#( I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR THIS BUT IT IS WHAT IT IS LET'S GO MEET THE BABY!! )

[buckyalpine]

His Winter Flower

Modern Beauty and the Beast AU Winter soldier x f reader

Long awaited, I hope you all enjoy it as well.

Word count: 8.9k

Warnings: 18 + Angst, injuries, Fluff, All the sweet smut, Bucky is a sweetheart

"оставаться внизу" [Stay down] The soldier ordered, holding his gun to the targets forehead, his metal finger twitching against the trigger while the man cowered in front of him.

"Please" The man tried to plead but it was no use. He knew his fate was sealed the second he heard the thud of the boots entering his home. The whirring of metal. The ghost people spoke of but never saw until it was too late.

"тишина" [Silence] The soldiers rough voice growled behind the mask that covered his face. He pressed the barrel further into the man's head, freezing when he heard the soft patter of footsteps nearing the office he had broken into.

"Papa?" A soft voice called, the scent of roses and vanilla accompanying it, "Papa, where are y-

You gasped as you entered your father's study, your heart dropping to your stomach seeing him kneeling on the floor with his hands tied while the soldier towered above him.

So the rumors were true.

The silver of his arm was illuminated in the moonlight, the rest of him covered in Kevlar and black leather. Weapons were strapped to every bit of his body but the only one that worried you now was the one that was about to take your father's life.

"Don't hurt him!" It was a futile attempt to save your father, you knew this enough. The Winter Soldier didn't spare anyone, in fact for the longest time you wondered if he was nothing more than an urban legend. No one had actually seen him. Those that did didn't live to speak the tale. The soldier grunted in response, hardly sparing you a glance as he stared at the man before him.

A professor. A brilliant man. One who was quietly working with a group of researchers aiming to destroy the the longtime work of Arnim Zola from so many years ago. No more serums. No more soldiers.

Hydra wouldn't have that.

Not when those very serums created their best asset, the Winter Soldier himself.

"Он моя миссия" [He is my mission] Was the only response you were given. You didn't understand the words he said but it didn't matter; it was quite clear. He didn't intend on sparing the professor.

"Darling, please go, it's okay" Your father shook his head, ready to accept the consequences of his choices. He hoped to aid in the movement of making the world safer and if this was his end, he was prepared to meet it. Tears welled in his eyes with a sad smile on his face, "It'll be alright, go, hurry-

"No, please!" You pleaded with the soldier once again, all you could see were his blue eyes, void of emotion, cold and icy. "If-if you kill him, someone will take his place and then another. My father will no longer help with the government if you spare him and take me. Please just take me instead, it will put an end to all this. Please"

If you kill him, someone will take his place

The words rang through the soldiers mind.

It shouldn't be a problem. He'd killed plenty of people before but...

Then it would be another mission to carry.

And then another.

Another.

The innocent man trapped in his brain screamed to stop. A voice long forgotten, begging him to reconsider. To fight against the words that were causing him to do this. The solider flinched, fighting within himself, contemplating his next actions. The mission was to ensure Arnim Zola's work wouldn't be eradicated. The girl was offering herself to ensure the same work wouldn't continue. He wouldn't have more blood on his hands if he allowed the professor to live.

He shouldn't have cared but a part of him did.

He didn't want to kill another innocent man.

He never wanted to kill anyone.

Your father let out a sigh of relief feeling the weight of the gun pull away, only to have his greatest fear come alive; losing you.

"NO, darling you don't know what you're doing, I'll be fine-

It was too late. The soldier cut through the ropes that bound your father's wrists, taking you instead. Before your father could reach for you, the soldier grabbed and hauled you over his shoulder and strode away, ignoring the plea of the professor to spare his only daughter.

His mind was made up.

She was not his mission but now he had a new one.

If he killed the man, another would take his place.

He was risking repercussions listening to the trapped soul only his mind could hear.

He shouldn't have listened to her words.

He shouldn't have let the professor go.

Yet he agreed.

The gait of the soldier lulled you into a dreamless sleep; exhaustion consumed you as he wandered through a thicket of trees and into the woods far from home. You hadn't spoken a word nor let out a cry as he carried you off, after all, you agreed to be his prisoner as long as you father lived.

-

He brought you to a place he knew no one would find.

A place no one else knew of.

A place that was now his own.

He was once sent to take the life of a wealthy aristocrat, a man who had no one to leave his estate to. The place was deep in a forest, away from most of humanity; even when Hydra had sent him to finish the man, they were unable to give him a location. The soldier had located the target himself only to find the man had already passed from old age.

No questions were asked.

The mission was considered complete.

The body was disposed of and for quite some time, the soldier thought nothing of the castle like place that no one else knew of. It was a secret only he knew and he soon found himself seeking its solitude. A resting place between missions. A place to patch up. A place to hide when his mind was too loud, trying to escape from clutches he didn't understand.

It was the closest place he had to freedom.

The soldier pushed through the heavy wooden doors, entering the dark oak foyer. He stilled, torn between taking you down to the cellar or taking you to the rooms up in the master wing.

How could he chain something so soft.

How could he imprison something so delicate.

His feet began to move towards the large staircase before his mind could process anything, shifting to carry you in his arms as he made his way up to the west wing. He set you down gently onto the large bed with the soft sheets, careful not to stir you. He stared at your sleeping form, unmoving from his place as you softly snored, the choices of his actions beginning to plague his mind.

What was he to do with you now. Why hadn't he gotten rid of you.

He knew the rules; once his job was done, he was to return to the base but he hadn't completed the mission. He had been away for weeks and the longer he was away, the louder the screaming was. The voice of a young sergeant who fought bravely in the war. The pleading young man, scared like a child, trapped in the body of a killing machine. The cries of a little boy trying so hard to runaway from monsters that haunted him every single night. All trapped and begging to escape.

He'd let the professor live.

It was wrong of him.

He disobeyed his orders.

Or perhaps it was the right thing to do.

Though the soldier had been brainwashed, there were times he found himself caught in-between a state of control and chaos. His duties were to Hydra. He knew this was wrong. You shouldn't be here. His task was to continue their vision. He was their asset. He belonged to them.

His tourmiol continued. Why did he spare the professor. Why did he bring the girl and set her down on the softest bed out of all the rooms when he should have chained her in a cell. Exhaustion began to weigh on him but he didn't close his eyes. He didn't allow sleep to consume him. The soldier remained in place even as the sun rose. He watched as you stirred, soft sunlight streaming through the curtains, falling onto your face.

-

You blinked, rubbing sleep from your eyes, a fearful gasp escaping your lips when you saw him sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. A thousand thoughts began to run through your mind at once as you sat up, a part of you surprised to find your hands and legs free from binds. You were atop a plush mattress on a large bed, the room itself surprisingly warm and quaint. Had you not been in a state of terror, you would have taken some time to appreciate the olive green walls and fine paintings that decorated the space as well as the well kept antique furniture.

"Please don't hurt me" You whispered, still disoriented from the night before.

"я не буду" [I won't] He replied, aware you didn't understand him. His lips twitched, all the words of English he wanted to speak dying in his mouth. His mind wouldn't allow it.

It wasn't required for this mission.

You stayed frozen in place while he said nothing else, walking off and closing the door behind him. Tears welled in your eyes as dread began to set in. This was your life now. He could kill you at any moment without warning. In fact, you didn't understand why he hadn't. From the rumours, you knew the soldier never took prisoners. You didn't know why you were spared; the only sliver of joy you had was that your father was alive. You thought about your him as you gathered yourself out of bed, deciding to make the best of your circumstances with the faintest hope that one day you'd be reunited with him again.

You inspected the room the soldier had put you in. There was a vanity across the bed. A walk in closet that only contained a few old sheets. You gasped as you entered the en suite bathroom, white marble tiles covering the floor, a large clawfoot tub, brass and gold accents decorated the handles of the cupboards.

The room was enchanting.

After splashing some water onto your face, you crept into the hallway, padding down to the staircase, surprised again at the beauty of the place. High ceilings. Dark wood. Crystal albeit dusty chandeliers. French doors. Original paintings. It was the type of place you'd imagine when you read fairytales. It would have been the type of place you'd dream to live in; one you'd only imagine in your wildest fantasies where the princess finds her prince. Such stories were only found in books.

You quietly explored the main floor of the mansion and avoiding the rooms which were locked shut. You didn't dare touch a thing, quickly retreating back to your room once you'd seen everything, familiarizing yourself with it's layout. The kitchen. A study. A living room. The hauntinly beautiful hallways. A door to the grounds in the back. You hadn't seen the soldier which both relieved and scared you.

Where did he disappear to?

That night, there was a knock at your door and when you opened it, a plate of warm food was left on a tray. Boiled carrots. Potatoes. A dinner roll. You hadn't even heard his footsteps down the hall. As you peered out of your room, it was empty without the slightest hint that anyone had been there seconds ago.

Where had he gone?

You hadn't realized how hungry you were until you took the first bite, scarfing down the rest in haste, placing the tray back in the hall. The next day was the same. You woke up to find a simple spread of breakfast outside of your room; toast and jam.

The soldier was a man of his word; if you were to be his captive, he had to keep you alive.

At least until he knew what to do with you...

Days had passed and you'd managed to avoid him, keeping to yourself and staying out of his way but you weren't able to avoid him forever.

-

The soldier had already heard you coming, pausing his cleaning as he waited for you to enter. The sight of your trembling form evoked something inside him.

You were scared. He didn't like it.

His mask remained on his face while his blue eyes peered at you, waiting for you to speak.

"I-I need clothes" Your voice was hardly a whisper, body shaking as you approached him, finding him in the study room, parts of his gun in hand. There was nothing wrong with the simple cotton dress you had on though it certainly wasn't comfortable to sleep in every night and you weren't able to wash and it dry within the same day. You needed at least one other set of something to wear. "Please"

He nodded without a word, resuming his cleaning while you retreated to your room. His brows furrowed as he thought about what you'd need. Perhaps it would be easier to return you and finish off the professor or get rid of you both-

No.

No.

He didn't want more blood on his hands.

The foods he stole were already a risk....where would he go for clothes?

-

The next morning, you found a fresh set of clothes left beside your tray of breakfast. You lifted the pile and brought it to your room, munching on the toast that had come with honey instead of jam for a change.

There was a red Henley and some sweatpants. A black t shirt and joggers. A few other basics for you to wear comfortably around the house. You couldn't help but giggle at the very large leather jacket he'd also left in case you felt cold even though there were already plenty of warm blankets. They were very clearly his own clothes but they were all washed and perfectly clean. You couldn't expect him to go shopping for you.

You threw off your dress, taking a long bath before drying off and slipping on the Henley and sweats. They were warm and soft, fitting loosely on your smaller frame, his soft scent of something distinctly him clinging onto the material. It was strange that it didn't bother you. Quite the opposite. It was pleasant, almost comforting.

You wondered about the man behind the mask and who he was. Such a dangerous man who was giving you the clothes off his back, feeding you and keeping you alive even though he'd killed hundreds of others. He was dangerous and yet he looked at you with such softness, you couldn't understand how he'd be capable of hurting anyone.

What was his story?

He hadn't chained you to the bed.

He hadn't locked you in your room.

You were free to go about where you liked.

Surely he wasn't all evil?

As you grew more accustomed to your living arrangement, you decided to inspect more of the kitchen. You hadn't been told you couldn't cook; even if the soldier didn't kill you, boredom eventually would. You needed something to pass the time and he had disappeared yet again.

You opened the fridge and pantries surprised to find a few fruits and vegetables stocked up. An untouched sack of flour and bag of sugar sat at the bottom of the shelves. Who knew the winter soldier enjoyed plums so much? There were a few pots and pans as well as basic kitchen utensils. You didn't need much to make a simple meal, careful not to make a mess as you began to peel some carrots.

-

The soldier blinked as he entered the house, the smell of food wafting throughout, a smell he hadn't come across in a long time.

Home.

There was a pot of stew left on the stove along with a pie left to cool on the counter. His eyes widened at the way his stomach grumbled; it had been years since he'd truly felt hunger. He ate for sustenance. Raw, uncooked, at most boiled food to keep him going. When he was with Hydra, he was fed with a tube.

Just basic nutrients to keep him alive.

He hadn't had a home cooked meal in years.

-

You woke up the next morning to find a pastry at your door instead of toast. When you wandered into the kitchen, you smiled at the tiny crumbs left pie tin and the now empty pot of stew. There were also newly stocked ingredients waiting for you; berries, potatoes, somehow even a whole chicken. You got to work, deciding to try something new each time; each night a warm meal awaited the soldier along with something sweet at the end.

He continued to bring you breakfast but there were only so many different pastries and cakes he could nick, besides they didn't compare to yours.

It wasn't enough. The soldier frowned at the strange feelings he had within himself.

He wanted to do something for you.

He wasn't sure what. He smuggled a handful of cookies you'd baked that morning into his room before removing his mask and savoring each once. He didn't leave a crumb behind, licking the remnants of chocolate off his lips while his mind wandered. You didn't have to cook for him. In fact you had every right to try and escape from him but you never did. He recalled the number of bookshelves that lined your home, after all he'd taken note of every detail as part of his mission.

You liked to read.

-

You sat up when you heard a knock at your door, the soldier waiting on the other side. He looked at you with a softness you hadn't seen previously, turning around and walking down the hall, hoping you'd follow him.

You stayed a few feet behind, trailing after him as he led you to the living room, leading you to the large bookshelf. He wordlessly stood by it, the strange sensation of nervousness and anxiety bubbling within him when you looked at what he wanted to show you.

Would you like it? You looked so unsure, scared. Perhaps you wanted to be free, you wanted to leave, you-

"M-May I?"

He blinked hearing your voice, nodding, watching your eyes light up as you scanned the various book titles. Gasps of joy and little squeals of delight escaped your lips as you came across stories you adored.

That wasn't the only thing that made his heart beat faster. Seeing you in his clothes stirred something in him. You were dressed in his red Henley, the hem reaching mid thigh. He was pulled away from admiring you as you squeaked, seeing one of your favorite books from when you were a little girl, a first edition no less.

"How did you get all these" You were in absolute awe, lost in your own world while he pondered how he came to own such treasures. Perhaps he was always a soldier gone rogue. His missions came with a side of thievery when he'd see something that would catch his eye. Something that would spark a memory of sorts, such as an old book he'd seen as he passed an vintage bookstore. Soon, the shelves of the mansion were filled with books and trinkets he'd collected. A part of his brain would nearly break itself to try and connect to the things he'd collect, only for the memories to fail to fall into place.

His mind felt like a pile of shreds from different cloths; pieces that would never fit together again. His little treasures were the closest he'd ever get to remembering, a few sparks from the past that would forever be disconnected.

-

Ever since the soldier had shown you the shelves of books, you'd left your room more often, spending more time reading after cooking. In a strange way you also began to trust the very masked man who had taken you away. You didn't worry about him hurting you. You no longer worried about running into him. He hardly spoke, nothing more than a few words of Russian. He hadn't demanded you stay locked in your room, so why did you?

You picked up one of your favorite books, deciding to read outside in the garden, in need of some fresh air. You hadn't taken much time to look at the outside of the house, pausing as you opened the doors that entered the grounds. It was strangely beautiful, especially considering the assassin who resided in it. For such a dark soul, nature still continued to flourish around it. Tall, overgrown hedge fences surrounded the backyard while weeping willows and bushes of flowers shaded the stone paths that led to a fountain in the very center. You found a comfortable spot under the tree, settling onto the cool grass, the scent of spring calming you as you turned to the first page.

-

The soldier trudged through the doorway, surprised at the way his appetite had grown since you'd started cooking. His body which was used to sustaining itself on the bare minimum now rumbled through the day. He'd find his mind wandering to your pies and craving the comfort of the soup you'd make. The food was set in the kitchen but you were nowhere to be found. He walked past your room, knocking on the door, only to be met with silence.

Where did you go? Did you run away?

He knew something was wrong when he felt his heart sink because he couldn't find you. He couldn't remember the last time his heart felt anything other than emptiness. It was more than just you escaping.

He was worried about you.

He took longer strides as he searched for you with purpose, fingers already itching to reach towards his gun, deciding to first check the grounds in the back. His heart settled when he saw the doors to the garden left ajar, finding you nestled in the shade, curled up in the grass with a book.

You were safe. You hadn't run away.

Again he was left stunned and unable to move. You were the final piece in the puzzle of the garden; you fit there like the perfect flower. He'd seen the garden 100 times before and it had never looked so beautiful.

Not until now.

Roses and daisies grew in abundance but you were the prettiest thing there. You were meant to be there; a soft, delicate, flower.

"цветок"

You set down the book you were reading, looking up to see the soldier peering down at you. You hadn't heard him coming as he appeared before you with the silence of a ghost.

"цветок" He repeated, gazing at you before looking towards a daisy. He kneeled, plucking one and handing it to you, "цветок. мягкий, как ты" [Flower. Soft, like you]. You felt your cheeks heat up as he looked at you intently, blinking with an innocence you hadn't seen before. He looked almost...shy?

"Thank you" You whispered, stroking the petal of the flower he gave you. You didn't understand why you longed for him to stay as he went back inside, your curiosity about him growing with each passing day.

It went on like this.

Most days, you would spend your time exploring the trinkets the soldier collected, staying out of his way while he disappeared into the forest to do things you didn't pry into. Each night you knew he would return, hearing the heavy creak of the doors open during the darkest hours. You'd hear the quiet sound of clinking cutlery and then the soft sound of his bedroom door shut.

Except tonight.

You set down your book hearing the sound of heavy boots dragging down the hall, quite different from the silence the soldier usually moved with. A sense of dread washed over you as you debated on staying put, something telling you to lock the door, hide, something-

"What do we have here" The click of your door opening sent shivers down your spine, your blood running cold as a man strode in, a metal mask covering his face showing nothing but his eyes. You wanted to scream but your voice was stuck in your throat, you felt safe with the soldier, this man was not the same, he lunged towards you, knife in hand, the blade swiping towards your neck, "The soldiers little pet"-

"DON'T TOUCH HER" A growl shook the window as you hugged your knees to yourself waiting for the knife to plunge but it never came. You gasped as the man was ripped away, the flash of silver gleaming as the soldier grabbed him and hauled him away, shutting the door behind him.

"You're weak. You were supposed to kill him"

"So this is what's been keeping you"

"Kill her and come back to us. That's an order"

"Rumlow-

"Kill her. They're nothing more than collateral damage, end them, желание-

You didn't dare move, tears spilling down your cheeks as you heard the sounds of a struggle growing further and further away, eventually melting into silence.

He saved you.

You heard him return, still frozen in fear but the sound of a pained whimper pulled you out of bed. You peered into the hall, eyes widening in horror seeing a trail of blood staining the floors leading to his room, streaks of crimson smeared onto the wall. You didn't think twice as you dashed out of your room to his, your body moving faster than your mind could comprehend as you let yourself in.

Your heart continued to race seeing the blood lead to the washroom where he stood with a needle in hand, beginning to sew a gash on his side across his ribs. His bloodied tactical gear was thrown on the floor though his mask still remained hoping to silence himself as he attempted to take care of himself.

He hissed in pain, piercing his skin while his head began to spin, multiple wounds needing attention, the blood loss starting to take its toll.

"Let me" you hesitated to touch him, going against your better judgement when you wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand away. The soldier shook his head, fighting the way his body craved for something more gentle, more caring, more loving than the jagged and painful stitches he was giving himself.

"I won't hurt you, soldat" you looked in his eyes with such sincerity, for a moment he thought he'd ask you to be his girl.

Such a doll...

One he'd take dancing...

Call you darlin' with that Brooklyn drawl...

He blinked at the fleeting memory, a whimper escaping his lips when you dabbed his gash with an alcohol soaked cotton ball. You blew across the cut to soothe the pain before taking the needle and carefully stitching him up with a feather light touch.

"There" You whispered after taking care of the awful injuries that littered his body, leading out of the bathroom to lie down so he could rest. You didn't dare ask what had happened as you looked around the room; though there was a large bed with the softest sheets and finest materials but the makeshift pallet on the floor was clearly where he chose to sleep at night. He collapsed from exhaustion, falling into a deep sleep while you remained by his side.

You watched the rise and fall of his chest, occasionally glancing over the dressings you'd put to see if blood had seeped through. You couldn't bring yourself to leave him alone, only getting up to see if you could find a sheet to drape cover yourself with in the cold room. As you removed the blanket that covered the bed, something caught your eye in the mostly untouched room.

A wooden box, carefully tucked away in the furthest corner of the room. There wasn't any dust on it, compared to the other pieces of furniture that were never used. It was something he very clearly wanted to keep a secret. His other treasures that were out in the open on the shelf were different from this.

Even the soldier had secrets.

Your curiosity got the best of you as you made your way to the corner, lifting the box as silently as you could so you didn't wake him, inspecting its contents.

Newspaper articles, some decades old.

Old photographs.

One of a young man.

The eyes.

Those blue eyes you'd become so familiar with.

James Buchanan Barnes.

A brave soldier who fought in the war. A young man, no, a boy, drafted to war, his life ripped away from him, leaving him for dead in an icy forest. You blinked back tears at the innocence the young Sergeants eyes held, bright and heroic, hoping to help in a fight that wasn't his. Scribbles on scrap pieces of paper read "I am James Buchanan Barnes" repeatedly.

Your could feel your heart break into tiny little fragments as you pieced together what happened to the boy from Brooklyn, he had his whole life ahead of him but-

A pained scream tore from his lungs, his eyes squeezed shut as you knelt by his side again, brows furrowed together. You looked over his injuries, everything was still in place but he sounded like he was being tortured. He tossed around, his screams melting into sobs, pleading for someone to stop.

"James?" You hesitated to use his real name, your hushed voice made him flinch in his sleep but it wasn't enough to pull him as he begged for the painto end. He didn't want to lose his memories again. He wanted to remember. Please?

"You're alright James" You cooed softly, running your fingers through his locks while tears continued to stream down his face, lost in a nightmare. "You're not alone"

You were careful not to scared him awake, your gentle ministrations soothing him, his cries coming to a stop. You wiped away the remnants of tears that fell against his cheek, some slipping beneath the mask he refused to remove. You didn't have in you to take it off, not without asking him first. His soft snores filled the room once again as the sun began to rise.

-

He stirred feeling a strange warmth surrounding his body blinking in confusion when he found soft sheets draped over him. The usual sting he'd feel after stitching himself up was nearly non existent. He ran his fingers along the gash, the neat little sutures still in place, covered with a bandage to protect the area. Bits and pieces of the night came to him in waves.

Running into his captors. Evading them. Escaping. The bloodshed. The weapons. The injuries. The pain.

However, there was also softness. Such tenderness. The touch of an angel he'd only be able to imagine in his wildest dreams that would never come true. Not for someone like him. Such sweetness. God, he'd missed it. He missed what such love and care felt like. It was so foreign to him. He was so used to the cold. Razor sharp, jagged edges. He'd forgotten so many things but the longer he kept to himself, the more that came back to him.

You called him by his name. He was sure of it. In the muddled fog of nightmares, he was sure he heard an angel call.

He knew he was in no condition to move or get you breakfast but the delicious smell of your cooking wafted through the halls letting him know it was okay for him to rest. He closed his eyes, flinching at the few prickles of pain he felt in his head.

You were there.

You'd take care of him.

He couldn't remember everything just yet but surely the puzzle pieces would fall into place soon.

-

"NO" The sound of the soldiers pained cry made you drop the book you were reading in your room, running off to find him. He'd fallen asleep after eating what you made for him that evening; you were sure he was getting better. He knelt on the floor, sweat covering his body as he gripped his hair, pulling from the roots. He felt another sharp piercing pain in his head, fleeting memories of things he didn't understand all flooding back at once.

You rushed to his side, taking his hands into yours to keep him from hurting himself. His eyes shot up, tears threatening to spill over, all the things he thought were lost forever coming back together.

He was a Sergeant.

A soldier.

A young man.

One who loved to go dancing.

One who wanted to help others.

Hydra turned him into a beast but you brought him back.

There was always something about you.

His sweet flower.

He relaxed feeling your soft fingers trace against his palms in hopes of grounding him, giving both his flesh and metal hands equal affection. He gently pulled his right hand away to remove the mask, letting you see all of him.

"Soldat?" You whispered, hesitantly brining your hand up to his scruffy cheek. He pressed his hand against yours, leaning into the warmth of your touch, he never wanted it to end.

"цветок" [flower] he whispered back, your eyes widening hearing the precious name he had just for you, "It's me, flower"

"James?" You knew it was no longer the soldier speaking, this was the little boy from Brooklyn, his piercing blue eyes now full of warmth and light.

"Your father, I have to take you home, flower I'm so sorry-" dread began to consume him as he realized how long he'd taken you for, trading one life for another, how could he-

"James, breathe" You held his face in your hands, wiping away the tears that began to fall, your hand coming down the rest against his erratic heart, "It wasn't your fault, I-I read what happened to you, you were taken, it was never you, you're a good person" You soothed his aching heart but it didn't ease how heavy it felt. Every part of him wanted to beg for you to run away, so far away from him so you could be home again yet his arms moved on their own, wrapping you up and holding you close, you fit so perfectly with him.

"I'm still a broken man, цветок" Bucky whispered with a sad smile, holding you with such care as you curled up in his lap. "I don't think I deserve to hold something as sweet as you"

"You're not broken, you deserve this and more" You cooed, inhaling his soft scent, your nose brushing against the column of his neck.

"You took care of me, flower" Bucky held you tighter, hiding his face into the crook of your neck, feeling safe for the first time in years, home had never felt closer.

"And you took care of me" Your fingers moved to card through his hair, pulling his face away so he'd look at you.

"I took you with me, doll" He couldn't shake the fact that he'd taken you from your father, first intending to kill him and then taking you in his place. "I didn't give you a choice, you should be home" The guilt ate him from the inside, if he'd been himself, he would have never-

"And you still protected me with your life" You whispered, your forehead resting against his.

"And I always will" Bucky promised, his lips brushing against yours. He meant it from the bottom of his soul, he'd always protect you no matter where you were. It didn't matter that he didn't want you to leave, that he wished you could stay, he knew you belonged elsewhere. He'd still always make sure you were safe. Exhaustion began to pull at him, his eyes growing heavy as his body continued to fight what Hydra wanted him to do and the man he really was.

"Sleep, Jamie" You pulled him down to lay on your chest, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead and for the first time in years, he slept soundly without a nightmare.

Over the next few days, you continued to nurse the soldier back to health, hushing him each time he plead for you to go, insisting he'd be okay to manage on his own.

"My body will heal, I promise, you don't have to do all this for me, let me take you home-

"Once you're all better. I'll write to him so he knows I'm safe" You pressed a finger to his pink lips before going back to tucking him in bed. It was true that the cuts had all cleared up exceptionally quicker than normal but you could see the mental exhaustion that plagued him each day.

He found a way to get in touch with your father without alerting anyone in Hydra from finding him and while your father graciously forgave him with understanding, nothing felt easier. He promised to return you home as soon as it was safe but the longer he spent with you, the more he selfishly wished for it to last forever. He promised your father he'd take care of you in every way possible but he knew it was truly you taking care of him.

He'd sleep soundly when you were near, falling asleep quickly when you'd read to him, sometimes softly playing with his hair so he'd relax. The few times he'd been alone, the awful memories would come flooding back leaving him confused and disoriented. It broke your heart hearing him cry, the soldier who was nothing but a killing machine truly an innocent man on the inside, a prisoner of his own mind.

You'd comfort him every single time, every moment more intimate than the next. It started with your soothing voice, sitting by his bed where you'd call his name, your fingers caressing the scruff of his beard, wiping away his tears. Then the nights came where you crawled into bed with him, helping him fall asleep with his head on your lap only to wake up with your limbs tangled together.

Then he started to hold you before he was asleep. He held you tightly while telling you stories about things he could remember. Things that made him smile. That his nickname was Bucky. You would do the same. You told him about all the things your father taught you. He'd start to kiss you goodnight. Innocently with a peck to the top of your head.

Sometimes your cheek.

He so badly wanted to kiss your lips, stopping himself when he felt his stomach stir, especially when your sweet doe eyes looked up at him. When he cuddled you, his arms would wrap around your body, his hands finding their way to the hem of the Henley you wore. His henley. His fingers would slip up to feel your skin, knowing such an angel was real grounded him. You'd do the same, tracing over his scars, neither of you openly talking about the growing tension between you both each day.

-

"Will you read to me?" Bucky asked, wrapping his arms around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder while you stirred some honey into the tea you were making. You giggled at his needy cuddles, his much larger form practically engulfing you from behind. "Please"

"Who'd have thought such a strong, scary soldier would want bedtime stories" you cooed, letting him carry you away to his room, making a stop at the bookshelf first to pick out a new story.

He settled against the headboard with you tucked in his lap, relaxing at you made yourself comfy between his thighs. Your words had an affect on him he couldn't describe, no longer paying attention to what you were saying and instead watching the movement of your lips. Your eyes darting across the pages. Your body pressed against his.

The butterflies started again.

His stomach stirred.

He tried to adjust himself, pulling you into a hug to calm himself down, ignoring the way he wished he could have more.

"You alright, Jamie?" you asked, feeling his squirming, his eyes growing wide as if he'd been caught red handed. He shook his head, insisting you continue reading, God he didn't know what to do with himself.

He fidgeted again, this time trying to keep you off the tightness growing more and more, you made it so difficult for him-

"Are you sure you're okay bub?"

"I don't remember much but-I-I know I want you closer, flower" His voice was shy, his adams apple nervously bobbing in his neck as he shifted, unable to hide the hardness between his legs. His mind was a mess, fragments of love and intimacy struggling to piece themselves together yet he knew enough to want to hold you close.

He wanted to feel your soft skin on his.

He wanted to kiss you in places that would make your cheeks warm.

Where you'd want to cover yourself but let him have you, just him.

He wanted to feel your hands touch him everywhere. He wouldn't flinch at your delicate ministrations, he'd give all of himself to you. He'd trust you in his most vulnerable state, feeling things he hadn't for years, so heavy between his legs.

"How much closer, Jamie" you couldn't meet his eyes, gripping onto his t-shirt instead, setting the book on the nightstand, now all your attention on him.

"You know, angel" He let his nose bury into your hair, the blush on his cheeks travelling to his neck. He couldn't bring himself to actually say what he wanted, hesitantly moving his hands to your hips instead, slipping up your shirt to hold your waist. "Can-can I kiss you?"

He could hardly recognize himself, nervous beyond comprehension, his heart racing when you nodded, cupping his cheek to look at you. He leaned down to press his lips to yours.

"More" You let your body melt into his, his tongue lacing with yours, deepening the kiss. He didn't pull away until he desperately needed air, no longer able to contain his arousal.

"M'sorry angel, s'been so long, my body's not the same-

"Don't. Don't you dare, I adore you just like this Sergeant" He sucked in a breath as you toyed with the hem of his shirt, nodding after a moment letting you take it off. You kissed every scar on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder where metal met flesh, "You're the most handsome, beautiful man," You kissed his neck making him hiss, your tummy jumping at the feeling of his erection now pressed right against you, "You deserve all of this"

"Can I see you, please?" He undressed you with such care as if he was unwrapping the most precious present, first laying you down before slipping your top off. You wordlessly undressed each other until there was nothing left to take off going right back to wrapping your body with his.

"You're the softest thing I've ever touched" He whispered, loving how you felt, your thigh hitched over his hip, your breasts pressed against his bare chest, your soft tummy against the hard planes of his abs, your hands rubbing up and down his spine, oh God your silky most sacred parts absolutely soaking his length. His body moved on its own, rutting up to chase more, his cock slotting so perfectly with his flushed tip rubbing against your clit.

The desperate moan he let out made you gush, seeing how lost he was in chasing how good you felt with the stutter of his hips.

"M'so hard" He whined, hugging you tightly, "Please angel, do something" It was the most delicious torture. You pulled away from his hold wanting to give him every bit of loving he deserved, giving his body the pleasure it had been deprived of. You shuffled to kneel between his legs, his eyes growing wide, your face so dangerously close to where he was achingly hard. There was no way, you weren't going to- your lips pressed a gently kiss to his frenulum and the tears started, you wouldn't give him more than this-

"Baby, oh God, no, no, I can't angel, oh God-OHH" He cried, his body splayed wide for you, bach arching off the bed as you took his swollen cockhead into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his circles, licking every bit of his essence that dripped out. Your face was between his legs, his cock was in your mouth, you were suckling off his most sensitive parts, how could he not spread his thighs apart further for you. He'd never been so open or vulnerable, letting you play and toy with his cock, his tears soaking the pillow at his balls started to pull towards his body, it couldn't be over so soon-

"Sweet baby, please, please-" He pulled you off his cock, bringing you up to smash his lips against yours, his thick length slapping against his tummy. He could have sworn he was close to cumming just tasting himself on your tongue. "Can-please I want to-" He scrambled to lay you against the pillows as you squeaked at the way he manhandled you in desperation, "please"

He was between your thighs, sighing with heart eyes as he carefully spread your folds with his fingers, taking his time smearing around your slick, your throbbing clit begging for his mouth. He latched on like a baby, nursing with the most needy gurgles, your gasp melting into a moan making his eyes roll back.

He couldn't believe he had his mouth on his pretty angel, his tongue toying with the precious parts between her legs, letting him taste her, drinking up her nectar, feeding him in the best way possible.

"I-oh-slow down baby, please, M'gonna- You gasped, feeling surges of pleasure already pulsing as he flicked his tongue with precision, his arms wrapping around your thighs, tossing them over his wide shoulders.

"Mph, cum" he whined before diving in for more, greedily humping and grinding against the mattress, how was he supposed to last like this.

"Want-want to feel you, please" You begged, needing him inside you, giving you something thick and hard to cum on. He didn't waste a second, shakily clambering back on top of you, nervously positioning himself at your entrance.

"You sure, sweet girl? I-it's been so long"

"I trust you" You pulled him down to kiss his reddened nose making him blush, letting out the breath he was holding as he started to push. You both moaned together as he buried himself all the way, stilling once he was flush against you, his orgasm already so close to shooting at the base of his cock.

"Hng, I needed this angel" He didn't move and you didn't need him to, just the feeling of him stretching and filling you fulfilling something you couldn't describe. You loved the feeling of you both being connected in the most intimate way, joined as one, it felt so right like he was finally where he was meant to be. Like he'd found his everything.

Your thighs moved to hug his waist, your arms around his shoulders. He drew his hips back and thrusted forward gentle, the gasp escaping your lips urging him to keep going. He started to move at a steady pace, bringing his hands to lace with yours, pinning them against the bed.

"I love you-even if I have no right, I love you so much" Bucky lost himself to you, his hips moving at a slow grind, letting every inch of his cock fill and caress your walls, "You showed me love when I least deserved it"

"Fuck, I love you too!" You cried out, the curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, sending you higher and higher. "Oh, James!"

"My God, the way you say my name when m'inside you, say it again baby, please" He started to move faster on his own accord, primal urges starting to take over as he began to chase his pleasure and yours.

"Please, James, feels-feels so good"

"Gonna make me cum so hard, the things y'do to me baby, drives me crazy, wanna be like this for the rest of my life, making love to you and nothing else, swear this is all I want"

"James, gonna-gonna cum"

"Cum with me angel, all over my cock baby, cum on it, wanna feel it, please give it to me, I need it. Need your sweet cream all over me, fuck-yeah-jus like that-" You clenched around his cunt, his name dripping from your lips as your orgasm crashed over you. That was all it took as he tucked his face right against your neck, holding you tight as he trembled, it was so much,

"M'cumming!!" His sob was muffled as his cock throbbed, warm streams of his cum pumping you full, his ass stuttering with each jerk of his hips. "So-so much for you, s'all for you angel"

Bucky made love to you everywhere, not one place left without him taking you apart to his heart's content, including the garden. The story you were reading was long forgotten as he took you under the shade of the tree, the long wispy branches of the willow tree hiding you from the rest of the world.

The summer sun cocooned you in a blanket of warmth as clothes were all tossed aside leaving you both bare on the sheet you'd spread on the grass, the sounds of the breeze, the rustle of the bushes and your moans blending in so perfectly with his rhythmic thrusts.

"Beautiful" he whispered against your cheek, pulling away so he could look at every bit of you, "So beautiful for me like this"

"Jamie, stop" You grew bashful, you knew no one could see you in your secluded spot so deep in the forest but you still felt so vulnerable, spread out naked with just his body covering you, shamelessly taking his cock while the afternoon sun hung in the sky.

"S'just us baby, just you and me, don't worry" He purred, bringing your arms up, holding your wrists in his metal arm while his flesh hand came down to caress your face. "We're not doing anything wrong darling, m'showing you how much I love you, how good you make me feel, yeah?"

"Yeaah" Your voice melted into a breathy whine as he started to move with more purpose, his warm breath fanning against your face.

"Lookit how pretty you are sweet girl, my pretty flower, you were meant to be here baby, feels so right, just like this"

Out of all the stories and poetry you'd read to him, this was what Bucky saw as true art. He'd seen the finest paintings around the world in the richest houses, guarded by the highest security. He'd seen nature's most incredible wonders with the tallest trees, the sweetest flora and nothing, absolutely nothing, would top how gorgeous you were, bare, on the grass, him filling you up, it was euproic.

The image was etched in his brain, he'd treasure it forever. Your shy moans. The clench of your cunt. The way he filled you up and kept his cock in you even after it was soft. The way you cuddled and kissed in a post sex haze, listening to the sounds of the forest. He could have cried at the way you fell asleep in his arms, so trusting for him to keep you safe.

This was all he needed.

He took care of you, keeping you protected while he did his best to eradicate Hydra with you to patch him up each time he came home. As soon as it was safe, he took you right home and under the care of your father, he healed from the words that held him captive.

It didn't take long for your home to be filled with the sounds of tiny feet mixed with the sounds of science experiments gone wrong; your little babies, their daddy and their papa getting up to mischief at all hours.

"Careful, flower" Bucky shook his head, running towards you as you waddled into the living room with an expression of concern on your face, cocking an eyebrow when you saw your son looking up at you with bug eyed goggles matching his papa.

Bucky came to steady you, his hands coming to wrap around your growing belly while your father and son continued to tinker away at a new creation.

"How are my princesses" He cooed while you huffed, still wondering what they were doing.

"We're both wondering what you're going here James"

"Papa's building me a rocket-

"A bicycle! Just a bicycle darling, go sit, son why don't you take her for a walk" You father ushered you and Bucky out, sending a wink to his grandson.

"A bicycle my foot" You shook your head while Bucky took you to the kitchen, setting a pot of water, ready to dote on you as usual.

"He gets that side of him from you, love" Bucky chuckled, coming down to kiss your belly, resting his head there. "Just wait until she's here too"

"You're a menace, Sergeant"

"You married me, darling" Bucky pouted making you giggle, cupping his face to kiss his jutting lips.

"and I love every bit of you"

"I love you more, pretty girl"

You would always be his flower.

[retiredteabag]

Wishful Thinking

arranged marriage with nanami… a continuation

pt. 1 - pt. 2

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

The silence that permeates the car you were shuffled into with your husband is suffocating.

Your life partner had let go of your hand the moment he had reached to buckle you into your seat. You strain your fingers now, hoping the sweat on your palms hadn't been noticeable.

A driver from your clan's estate had been tasked with dropping you and your husband off at your newly arranged space. You knew this man, the man who was seated directly to your left, was not affiliated with any clan, this meant you had no idea where you were headed.

Several shipments of your belongings had been retrieved over the weeks since the higher-up's declaration of marriage for you had been in place. A steady and simple move-in awaited you. Something you weren't particularly happy about.

You thought through a list of things to occupy yourself with instead of awkwardly standing in this stranger mans presence.

As curious as you were about your future arrangements, you truly could not ignore the silence in this vehicle much longer. Had you married any of the expected bachelors, you were sure your ear would be talked off at this point, yet, you did not even know this mans name.

You took in a deep breath, preparing to speak, the blonde fellow, (your literal husband) turned to meet your eyes, likely having expected you to say something. His eyes shock you, and you turn away once more to stare out the window.

You strain your hand into a fist and work up the courage. Turning with an inhale once more, you force out words before you can change your mind, "Terribly sorry..." You start, looking him in the eyes, "Could you remind me of your name?"

You had never been given it to begin with. Perhaps the officiant at your wedding had recited it in his speech, but you had been a little distracted at the time.

"I'm sorry?" He strains his neck in your direction, eyebrows raised.

"Your name? Sorry... I think I ought to know it, right?"

"You don't know my name?" His head shakes a little as he speaks, incredulous.

You hesitate, "...No? I wasn't paying the most attention for it during the ceremony..." You mumble the last bit, waiting for him to cut you off, but he just stares at you.

"I'm sorry-" His hand hovers mid-air, "You weren't given my name?"

Oh no, you've offended him.

"Oh! It's not like that! My family is....very fond of you! And the higher-ups speak very well of you as well! I...well...I erm..." How do you fix this? Stroke his ego?

His hand is firmly on his forehead now. "That is not what I meant. I'm asking you - you were not informed of my name? Who I am? Were you even aware you were to be wed?"

You fumble a bit with the skirt of your dress, "Of course! Yes, I just... well, I didn't know who, but the marriage bit was no surprise."

"But the rest, that is all true? You had no idea you would be marrying me?" He looks frustrated, to say the least. You had no idea this would come as shocking news, someone should have informed you.

He is peeking at you through his hand, "Well...no, but-" He cuts you off now, but he seems to not be speaking to you.

"No wonder you looked so ill up there..."

Okay ouch.

"When did you agree to this marriage? Was this simply... decided for you?

You weren't sure what to say. Had this not been decided for him as well? Speaking frankly, you were not entirely sure of why he had been chosen as your partner, he had no duty to his name. Even so, he looked repulsed at the realization, eyes shot wide.

"Well... it was-" Were you supposed to be talking about this? Should you say this to your husband? "Umm... Well, I'm sure you know the higher-ups are involved with the clans..."

He shifted in his seat to face you fully now, "You...were forced?" He almost looks frighted at the concept. You want to laugh.

Of course, you were. How else did he think marriage worked?

Despite your thoughts, all you said was, "No, it was a mutual understanding that I would be married."

"Yet you know nothing about me." He looks forward at the road.

Was that what this was about? "I'm a quick learner, if you're concerned about that."

He sighs and smacks a hand to his face again. "No...No that is not what concerns me."

You have a litany of responses ranging from, 'I see...' to 'what does concern you then?' but you say none of them. You just sit forward and stare at your palms.

Oddly enough, it does not take long for the silence to be broken once more.

"Nanami." He says.

"I'm sorry?" You hadn't expected him to speak, eyes wide, you turn to him again.

"Nanami Kento. That's-" He sighs, as if it's a real chore to introduce himself, "my name is Nanami Kento."

You look to one another for a moment before you quickly break the connection, gazing out your window, deigning to not look again until you arrived.

"Mmm...thank you." You finally say.

--

Although you knew the house was not terribly far from your family estate, it felt like hours had passed before you allowed yourself to move once more.

Mr. Nanami had climbed from his seat once the car had halted.

Eager to be away from me it seems.

Only, he had seemed surprised as you climbed from your door as well, having walked around to greet you.

"Allow me," He had said, reaching for the small train case in the back of the car, it had been filled with small wedding gifts and your husband insisted on carrying it for you.

I wonder how long he will keep up this act. You found yourself thinking. Your new residence was sizable. Nice, in an uncomfortably clean way. Perhaps that is how your husband liked it.

As you stepped over the threshold, moving out of "the man of the house's" way. You took it in.

This place must have been chosen by the higher-ups. Your father would not have bought you a home, nor did you expect a man without clan connections to have been able to purchase such a plot of land.

It was only mid-afternoon. Yet your life was impossibly different than it had been only a few hours prior. You had expected the driver to stay and discuss the honeymoon with the two of you but it seemed he had not been instructed with that information.

As many frightening realizations occurred to you, you were able to resign yourself to acceptance, putting aside the...bedding...situation... the concern that stuck with you was dinner plans.

Were you expected to have that prepared? You didn't know what he preferred though....

Thoughts of your...marital duties swam in your head while Nanami was making his way towards the living room.

"Of course," He was saying, "You're free to use whatever you like, these things are as much yours as they are mine..." He had rounded through the sitting area and around the kitchen into the master bedroom, never once turning to look at you.

It was clear that people had come to prepare the area for you two. On his bedside table, you see a comfortable pair of plaid pajama pants and a loose grey shirt. You had not been presented with such. No, on the bed, strewn out for the both of you to see was a... sordid... set of black lacy lingerie.

You stood in silence. A resigned look on your face. Your husband on the other hand, had coughed, spun around, and fully walked from the room in moments.

What was he doing? Was he sickened by you? Did he expect you to appreciate his apprehension? If you were being honest, you would like for him to get this act over with as quickly as possible.

Looking at your marital bed, you were once again reminded of your mother's sobs only this morning. You looked down at the gown that clung to your waist. You had felt pretty today, despite the occasion. You knew you would not feel beautiful in that raunchy piece of string.

How long do I have? You wondered.

Finally moving yourself, you come before the undergarments, sit next to them, and run your hand along the bed's silky duvet.

You sat in silence for longer than you expected to be given. You finally reached your hand up your spine. Unzipping the dress, unbuttoning the clasp at your neck.

You slid it off your body. Walking around the room near-nude to lay the dress along the ladder of a bookcase. It was nice, actually. Maybe you wouldn't mind it here.

You did not rush to dress in the sexy, frilly, underthings. You might not have been perfectly comfortable in your body, but that didn't matter. Not when you had knowledge of the intentions behind your wedding for years.

It was a bit of a challenge to get it on. You weren't sure how to get your arms through at first, and then you swapped them around when you couldn't figure out the neck bit.

What did it matter, it would be coming off anyway.

After dressing, you sat in the same spot on the bed for a while, staring at your hands. You wondered if he was expecting to eat first. Seeing as he had left you alone, however, you figured he would return eventually.

It was cold like this, you hopped he would hurry.

Just as you were beginning to consider moving to look at the bookcase, (panty clad and all) your spine snapped into place when you heard him calling for you. When had you given him your name? You weren't sure.

He was speaking loudly so you might hear through the wall, but not in a frustrated manner, "The kitchen staff is arranging something for us to eat-" He had slowly began to open the door, when his eyes landed on you. Not a moment passed before he dropped whatever he had in his hands. It loudly clattered to the floor and he slammed the door shut. The noise echoed in the room.

"What-??!" He stuttered, "What are you doing?!!"

Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish. What were you doing? What did he mean? And how exactly do you respond?

"I... uhh-" You looked down at yourself in the ridiculous lace.

You had not been trained in much regarding sex, having been told that the man you would marry would be well aware of how to educate you when it came to your actions. Suddenly self-conscious, you wondered if you had done something wrong.

Nanami calls your name from outside your new bedroom, then repeats it. Firm and unmoving. "What-are-you-doing?"

Your hands flounce around. Stuttering for a response, "I- I don't know!?" You finally force out, the tone coming off a little too questioning for an answer.

After a moment there is a dull *bonk* against the door. You hear no response for a long while. The room is so silent, you can hear your heart pounding. It was so painfully uncomfortable, you reached a hand to your chest to try and calm it. Finally, he clears his throat and calls out to you from behind the door again.

He speaks your name gently, as if calling to a child, "I'm going to come in now, okay?"

You sit upon the bed once more, back straight. "Alright." You nod to yourself.

Unsure of what to expect, you watch the door handle tilt to allow for your husbands entry, but your eyes narrow as he shifts into the room, avoiding your gaze - in fact - avoiding your presence completely.

His arm is shaking off his nicely tailored suit jacket. Still turned to look at the closet, he comes before you, jacket in hand, and reaches out for your shoulders. You almost want to shrink back from this odd behavior but remain still as he wraps you up in his clothing.

After a few awkward seconds, he turns to look at you. "What are you doing?" He repeats, low and calm.

You raise your brows, "What... are you doing?" You reach up to feel the jacket covering your collar and torso, instantly, he drops his hands from your shoulders.

He shakes his head, a hand tugging at his loose blond hair. "I don't... understand." He is no longer looking in your vicinity. His voice shakes and all the air leaves his lungs.

"I'm sorry." You wrap yourself tighter in his jacket, shifting to stare at him, "Was this not... expected?" His apprehension certainly came as a surprise to you.

Suddenly he's back, fully facing you, "Expected?" He raises his brows, "What is this? You're... what? Doing what is expected of you?". Despite the severity of the moment, it is now that you recognize how expressive his features are. His neck, up to his cheeks, up to even his ears are a warm pink. It wouldn't be improbable to assume his chest is a rosy shade right about now as well.

You decide to push the boundary, share your frustration. Why is he upset? If he does not want you, he should just say. It's not as if you desire him in that way. This has been an incredibly stressful and tense day, at least he knew who you were before all of this, you did not have that liberty. If anything, you should be upset with him!

"Is it not?" You speak up, "Forgive me, but I was under the impression that...this" You pull your arm out from under his jacket to motion between you two, "was how this worked."

He makes a face. Revolted.

"You are- we-" He cuts himself off, waving his hands before himself, then covers his face, "no." He gets out, "This is not how this works."

"Well." Now you're flushing, embarrassed. You straighten yourself, balling his suit jacket in your firsts. "What... would you like for me to do? I told you in the car that I learn quickly, if thats-"

"Stop." He spits out, voice suddenly higher than before, "Just...stop."

You swallow. What does he want from you? "Okay." You whisper.

He calls for you gently, and motions for you to stand. He turns away from the bathroom now and shifts in the other direction, looking at your wedding gown strewn across the bookcase ladder. He purses his lips. "Please.... dress yourself." He swallows, motions towards the wardrobes along the wall. "Something comfortable in there. I was... going to ask your preferences, for a meal-for dinner. Let me-"

He clears his throat, moving away now toward the bedroom door, he drops to the floor and picks up what must be his phone, having been dropped earlier, he rubs the screen on his pant leg. "What would you like?"

You stare at him, straight-faced. "Anything you like." You're not a picky eater.

He sighs, looking up at the ceiling, "No. What do you like to eat?

You shrug, "Anything. I don't mind." You shake your head at him and he just looks you up and down. The stupidly large jacket comes mid-thigh.

He takes a deep breath. Then exhales dramatically. Nods. And he's gone. This time, when closing the door, he makes an effort to do so gently.

--

You had found a soft cotton pajama set in one of the dresser drawers. Having long since removed your previous attire, you wonder what your husband is thinking of as he silently serves two plates of Chinese food.

You wonder what your father would say if he saw Mr. Nanami serving up dinner for his wife as you sat on the living room couch.

You're taken from your thoughts as Nanami places a large wooden tray on the couch, he places the food on it.

It seems you will very much be eating together.

"I hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you don't." He murmurs, seating himself near you in the dimly lit room.

In no world would you complain about the food your husband served you. Even if you disposed it, luckily, you liked Chinese cuisine. Before you can even get out a word of appreciation he is speaking again, "I think we should talk."

You sit up straight. "Alright."

He motions for you to eat, "Feel free. I think we ought to have an open discussion."

You grab your utensils but don't reach for anything until after he takes a bite. Awaiting his words.

"Well... I believe we ought to be on the same page about this. I had been under the impression that we were... but as I can see, that is not the case." He stares at you intently.

He is not speaking down to you, but rather, making space for an open conversation. You set down your chopsticks, and await further explanation.

"I suppose I should know what exactly the higher-ups asked of you."

You raise your brows, "Sorry?"

An apology has become a common synonym for many of your reactions.

"Earlier, you asked me for my name. And just then-" He flushes a little, motioning to the bedroom, "well- you mentioned expectations and I feel I ought to ask you what is is that has been requested of you."

Is this man daft? Is he playing with you?

Before you respond, you test the waters, "What did the higher-ups demand of you?"

The man sighs.

"I am terribly sorry," he calls your name again like its easy, a habit that makes your stomach flip, "It seems that people have not been honest with you, you deserve an explanation. I just expected you to be aware of this before our union."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes watch you and the chopsticks laying on the wooden tray.

Ah.

You reach to take a bite. It's good, and oddly puts the man before you at ease.

"Before this, I was intending to leave sorcery."

He states it as if it is nothing. Your eyes bug out and he pauses, allowing for you to ensure you heard correctly.

"The higher-ups have a large amount of sway in Tokyo, I'm not sure about Kyoto, but they were not fond of this plan."

I can't imagine why that would be. You thought as you recalled the moment you had first seen this Nanami Kento.

It had been an annual meeting between the Kyoto and Tokyo branches. You had heard him refer to sorcery as "a pain". Had he been considering retirement even then?

You simply nod, listening quietly. "It was their intention to find me...a wife." He huffs, "Maintaining a life in sorcery was highly important to them."

Oh, you see. Perhaps he wasn't so different from you after all.

The higher-ups have only had one expectation for you, even since showing promise in the world of sorcery, even after moving up the ranks at Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College. Your job was plain and simple.

To have babies.

Sorcerer babies.

Had they been so afraid of losing one sorcerer to the regular world that he was cornered into loveless marriage? All to keep him from departure? Was that why Gakuganji had been so immediate with his instatement of your husband?

"I see..." You nod once more.

"I would like to know your experience as well. What was it that they asked of you?" He had both hands laid flat on the makeshift table between the pair of you.

You consider what to say. "I...have known-" you try again, "My duty has been laid out for some time now." You tilt your head, he's squinting at you.

"Please. Just tell me. They... forced you - to - to do that?" He points his head in the direction of your room once more.

Now you're confused. You want to speak in a way that doesn't insult his intelligence but he's making is difficult for you. "Did you not... marry me for children?"

He chokes.

Coughing to clear his throat, he wipes his mouth. "That is not- eugh-" he tries again, "They cannot ask that of you. I will not do anything that you are not explicitly requesting of me." He pauses effecting a moment of silence before, "Do you understand?"

But you don't. "Mr. Nanami, are you... not expected to produce children? Is that not why you were chosen to be in this situation?"

He responds quickly and with precision, "I did not marry you for what you could give me. No."

You can't hold in your confused laugh, "Then...why?"

"Was it not the easiest for the both of us?" He smirks at you, his shoulders have eased only slightly after hearing your laugh, "I was informed that your other options were not the most savory."

"You knew you would be marrying me?" You ask, ignoring his reference to your suitors and flummoxed by how easy it is to speak comfortably with a man you had been so recently adverse to.

"Yes. I... cannot believe you were not provided the same..." He pauses, "I was under the impression that this was a mutual decision..."

"Oh." It's all you can say.

Nanami takes in a deep breath from across the couch cushions. "I'm sorry." And you really believe that he means it. "I would not have agreed if I knew." He forms a flat line with his lips.

"I think you're right, though..." He looks at you, addled, so you continue, “This was the easiest choice. I think so too." You're unsure of how else to conclude.

Your wedding dinner had not been what you would have expected and the night, unlike anything you could have predicted.

Nanami Kento, no matter how you denied and tried to shuffle from the bedroom, had sworn himself to a guestroom after collecting the night clothes laid out for him on the bedside table.

He had gently grabbed your shoulders, maneuvering you towards the bed and away from the exit. Pleading with you to remain in the master bedroom. Claiming that he had intended to sleep in a separate bedroom since the beginning.

Though you pulled at his arms to try and swap your standing, telling him adamantly to take the bigger of the bed options, he simply drew close to you, shifted farther from the door and blocked your sights. He lead you softly to the bed, and when you attempted to side step him and make your way to the guestroom, he took one arm, catching you by the waist, and swiftly lifted you from the floor.

"Please. Do not ask me again. Sleep here, alright? All of your things are here. I will be very comfortable in the guestroom."

And before you could get out any complaint, he had you placed upon the duvet. His hands were off you in an instant, but he remained looking in your direction as he backed to the door you had been fighting over.

"Do sleep well." His long strides had brought him to the rooms entrance with no delay, you were still caught up with the fact that he had lifted you like a sack of potatoes, with one arm no less. "We will likely have to arrange the...trip tomorrow."

The honeymoon, that's right.

He said it in a way that sounded like, 'just to warn you' or 'you should know'. But all you could reply with was, "Right."

"Right." He echo's, turning to walk through the door, and looks to you once more. "Sleep well." And there's your name again, leaving his lips as though you are long time friends.

"You too."

But the door has been silently shut.

His touch lingers on your waist from where he had lifted you. Not in the way your fathers hand would linger after he drug you to and from meetings, not the way his fingers would remain painfully on your neck after he would steer you into conference rooms. But rather, in an almost ticklish way.

You shiver.

And run your hands over your new duvet.

When you had made up your childhood bed and left this morning, you had listened to your mothers cries, sure that last night would be the last time you would have the peace of your own bed. Your heart swelled with the knowledge that you had been wrong.

Your fingers traced the stitching on the comforter. Swung your legs from the mattress, and almost-almost grinned.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

tag list @longlivegojo @kitkatlover015 @l0v3rgirl-owo @smailaway (if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged. I think it’s either bc your blog is new/blank/empty or you need to check your privacy settings)

[seeingivy]

girl i've always been

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my dream girl fic

previous part linked here

songs mentioned: girl i've always been by olivia rodrigo and state of grace by taylor swift

--

--

sukuna very desperately wishes that he had a better sense of judgment. about three things specifically. 

first and foremost – he wished that he hadn’t let you walk off the night prior. he was filled with irritation, because he should have been smart enough to ask for your number. or question you farther to parse out where you were going to be next so he could meet you there. 

second – he wished that he had made a more productive use of the night that followed. that instead of listening to your entire discography and watching every interview he could find, he should have slept through the night. 

the pursuit only made him more irritated with every interview he watched, because he grew more curious the more he found out. 

there were a few things that were obvious to him. that you never went down without a fight, that your fans weren’t short of support for you, that you were cemented as someone who made major moves in the industry – without the help of previous connections like most people. 

but other things were entirely lost to him. like the fact that you used to be so close with kim and aimee at one point but they had never brought you up. that you never stood down to a fight, despite losing greatly at times. that there was some part of the image that you put out that he didn’t necessarily understand. 

yet. 

and third – he wished he hadn’t forgotten that one of his biggest pr interviews was going to be the next day. 

he was at almost zero energy and the cameras littered around the bar of the coffee shop were starting to stress him out. only because this was the last interview that he wanted to tweak out at. 

sukuna cracks his knuckles three, four times.

it’s only two hours. and drinks that he had made hundreds of times. 

“are you good?” yuuji asks. 

“yeah. just slept late last night.” sukuna responds. 

yuuji squints his eyes at him. 

“yeah i heard you. what were you doing?” yuuji asks. 

“just listening to music. was finding it hard to fall asleep.” sukuna responds. 

“mijo, you never change, do you?” 

sukuna turns the corner to find the source of the voice, only to find alina with a hand propped up on her hip, the features of her face all scrunched up and prepared to scold him, and freddie lingering behind trying not to laugh. 

if there was one thing that freddie hated, it was getting scolded by his mother. by proxy, watching someone else be the aim of her wrath filled him with the utmost joy. 

sukuna worked three jobs in high school. he got fired from the first two (a car garage where he assisted the mechanics and a dishwasher at a high end restaurant) and got very close to it with the third, which was being a barista at alina’s coffee shop, play coffee. 

he’s not sure what it was that kept alina from firing him – something he was convinced was a mix of pity and the soft spot she seemed to have for him – because he most certainly deserved to be fired. 

he couldn’t make the most popular drink, the lavender matcha, during rush hour and seemed to make things worse just by being around. he was less of an asset and more of a problem that persisted. 

but somehow, he’d spent the last ten years of his life keeping the coffee shop running by helping her make drinks (the ones he could actually make) or watching freddie in the back room when he was younger. 

more notably, he’d saved them from getting evicted from the building with the first paycheck he got from his acting job. 

it was only when he claimed that it was an investment that she gave in to such a hefty favor, which was followed by her cementing his name on the wall with yuuji’s as one of the co-owners. 

that and the fact that she had to give in, because yuuji and sukuna had already paid it behind her back. she thought it was too much. but to sukuna, he was just repaying a long standing favor. 

a true investment it was because sukuna was dedicated to getting the name out and bringing in more business whenever he could. which included today – an interview that he was doing for vanity fair while covering the morning rush at the coffee shop as part of the pr before the premiere of the show. 

“someone has to keep you on your toes, alina.” sukuna responds. 

it earns him a snort from freddie, who gets a consequent glare from alina, before she turns back to him and crosses her arms over her chest. 

“keep me on my toes? more like keeping me ten feet from my deathbed. do you know how much you stress me out?” alina asks. 

sukuna shrugs, ignoring the question, because he knows that he would hate the answer. he hated giving her more stress than she needed.

he makes his best efforts to divert away from that conversation, only because he knows he’s not even awake enough to deal with getting read to filth so early in the morning. 

“do you happen to know the dates for your graduation yet freddie?” sukuna asks. 

freddie glares at him. 

it makes his stomach lurch, thinking about him wearing a dark blue high school graduation gown and going to college a few months from now, when all he can remember is freddie biting him when he was trying to rangle him out of the car for the first day of third grade. 

“it’s september, dude. how would i know the dates already?” he responds, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

sukuna glares right back. he was getting just as snippy as alina. like mother like son he supposed. 

“okay fine. i’ll just retract the car i was planning on buying for you.” 

freddie’s eyes widen. he can already sense the immediate switch up. 

“you were going to buy me a car?” freddie asks. 

“going to. but you’ve got such a shit attitude that i’m reconsidering it.” sukuna responds. 

“cuidado con tus palabras! fuiste criado por lobos?” alina scolds. 

alina scuttles away to the other end of the bar to arrange the cups, as sukuna and freddie stifle down a laugh. 

“wolves? that means wolves right?” yuuji whispers. 

freddie shakes his head. 

“she gets more dramatic as time goes on. me wanting to move to new york doesn’t help either.” freddie responds. 

freddie was in the process of applying to colleges. three weeks ago, sukuna got an hour long run down from yuuji – that alina and freddie were in the midst of a big fight about him wanting to apply to colleges on the east coast and on the east coast only. 

safe to say that alina didn’t take it well. at all. he could feel the animosity lingering in the air from the way that they were glaring at one another. 

alina shortly returns and gives the two of them a look, before passing one of the freshly baked scones over to yuuji. it was a long standing tradition, to taste test the pastries for the day before the shop opened, and alina always showed her bias by letting yuuji take the first one. 

“none for us?” sukuna asks, wrapping his free arm around freddie’s shoulder. 

“maybe if you earned it.” alina responds. 

“and what did yuuji do to earn a scone? he’s been sitting on his ass all day.” freddie responds. 

alina shakes her head, before reaching forward to pinch yuuji’s cheek. 

“amor de mi vida, he’s always so sweet. the two of you should be taking notes. talking about staying up all night and sueños de new york.” alina responds, before walking away again. 

sukuna and freddie parse a glare for yuuji, who only smiles at the two of them gloatingly. 

“i can give lessons. you two have a lot to learn.” yuuji responds. 

“hilarious.” sukuna responds. 

“by the way, you don’t have to worry about the car. he’s just pulling your leg, we already bought it for your birthday.” yuuji responds. 

freddie widens her eyes, an excited smile spreading across his face as she looks up at sukuna, waiting for confirmation. he all but rolls his eyes, before yanking the key from his pocket. 

“did you really buy me a car?” he asks. 

“have to give it to you early since we’ll be in new york for premiere stuff next week.” yuuji responds. 

“senior year and all. have to drive there and go hang out with all your little friends, don’t you?” sukuna asks. 

freddie wraps him in a harsh hug, almost borderline painful, before scuttling over to yuuji’s side and doing the same. sukuna presses the key into his hand, letting yuuji show him the pictures on his phone, before shuffling over to the other side of the bar to where alina’s arranging the cups, to do some damage control. 

“you don’t have to worry about me. or freddie and his new car. you should worry about yuuji. and how hopeless he is.” sukuna jokes. 

sukuna can tell that she doesn’t find it funny. that freddie’s immediate excitement is something that worries her. 

“i should worry. about all of you. you can’t even put your shirt on the right way. you’d walk face first into the street if i didn’t worry about you.” she responds, tugging on the back of his shirt. 

sukuna lifts his hand to the back of his shirt, feeling the tag, as he feels his cheeks warm at being called out. he pulls the shirt over his head, readjusting it to the right way as she continues rambling. 

“yuuji is hopeless when it comes to love. pero, at least he’s sensible in the ways that matter. you and freddie, you think too much with your hearts. get a little reckless, too excited. yo pienso que you love him but he’s not responsible enough to take care of a car! and i’m going to call whoever is paying you because you should be more responsible with your money instead of buying him whatever he wants!” 

sukuna heaves a sigh. 

“creo que estas atacando porque no quieres que se mueva.” sukuna mutters. 

alina pinches her eyes shut. 

“of course i don’t want him to move away! do you know how far new york is?” 

“i’ll buy you a private jet. you can go see him whenever you want.” sukuna responds. 

alina reaches for the closest towel and smacks him with it. 

“you’re not funny. and he’s too young to move out there on her own. and you….you have some nerve saying yuuji’s hopeless in love. you’re even worse! don’t think i didn’t see what they were saying about you on the news two days ago.” she responds. 

sukuna rolls his eyes, before reaching forward and placing his hands on both of her shoulders. he squeezes hard, noting the stressed wrinkles that are imprinted into her forehead at this point, as he shoots her a smile. 

it’s moments like this where he feels bad for being reckless. when he’s reminded of the fact that he’s not the only one affected by his actions. 

“you should take things one day at a time. taking on so much does nothing for you, mi amor.” sukuna responds, mimicking her voice. 

“don’t repeat my words back to me.” she responds. 

“it’s good advice. you should take it. maybe worry less about freddie and new york and just focus on making sure he takes good care of the car and learns some responsibility. and yuuji is my responsibility, so i’m working on that.” sukuna responds. 

alina rolls her eyes. 

“and who’s going to work on you? you need some serious help too.” 

“i have to keep you in a job, one way or another.” he responds. 

sukuna hears the bell against the door ringing, accompanied by loud voices that he can instantly recognize. he watches as satoru, suguru, shoko, megumi, and nobara all stand at the front of the cash register, animated hands moving as they talk to yuuji and eye all the cameras. 

“which one is the boy?” 

“spiky hair.” yuuji responds. 

alina tilts her head to the side. 

“really? esto?” 

“trust me. he’s just as hopeless as yuuji. i think they’re made for each other.” sukuna whispers. 

sukuna pushes up off the counter and joins them at the register, trying to catch the end of their conversation. 

“sukuna and i have to sit out but we’d love to come.” yuuji states. 

“you’re no fun. it’s going to be such a great performance.” gojo whines. 

“plus, she’s like way more famous than all of us combined. it would be a good look for the show if we all go together.” shoko adds. 

“sit out of what?” sukuna asks. 

nobara turns over to him, a hand popped up on her hip. 

“megumi invited us to go watch y/n’s tiny desk performance with him. she told him that he could bring whoever he wanted since she knows about promotion for the show and all that and we’re all going so we can watch gojo shit his pants from excitement.” 

sukuna can feel his heart hammering in his chest. like it’s fate. 

like the stars are aligning in his favor, a clear cut sign from the universe that something was going to happen. that things were going to go his way. 

he looks back over at gojo, noting the tour merchandise shirts that he had seen on your website only hours prior, and feels his stomach lurch with excitement. 

at the opportunity. 

“i’m going.” sukuna responds. 

“what?” yuuji asks. 

sukuna shakes his head, almost too adamantly, as he reaches to unlock the cash register, now ready to speed through the interview and run over there right now. 

“we’re going.” sukuna repeats. 

“what about freddie’s car?” yuuji states. 

“we’ll drive it over afterwards. but pr is important and you know people will talk, so we should go.” sukuna whispers. 

yuuji narrows his eyes at him. 

“shouldn’t you be lying low? what if shoyo gets mad?” yuuji whispers. 

sukuna almost gets mad. at the thought of being stamped out of the opportunity in front of him. it’s why he responds so harshly. 

“you’re acting like i’m going to give an interview while i’m there. we’re just going to listen to her sing and leave.” sukuna seethes, convinced that the urgent tone is almost giving him away entirely. 

yuuji shrugs. but at the end, he gives in. and there’s a newfound energy as sukuna prepares to make drinks for the next two hours. 

--

--

the rest of the day, right up until he’s sitting in the front row seat waiting for you to come out, feels like a blur. he can barely remember the drive over, when his interview at the coffee shop ended, whatever it was that satoru was blabbing about in the car, because the sheer anticipation of possibility of a conversation was driving him insane. 

sukuna hadn’t exactly noted it yet, but he was too attached to the plan that he had dreamt up when he met you the night prior. maybe even obsessed with it, but that felt like it was a little on the nose. 

there was something extremely tantalizing and intoxicating about the thought – about getting revenge on aimee for tainting his good name so close to his show without having to do it himself, by getting a group of fans ready to rally behind him in the efforts that were being made to smear his name, and most importantly, getting to be around you and your snippy retorts you had offered him the night prior. 

it was making him sick to his stomach, thinking of all the different ways he could approach the prospect. singling out the best way to present it to you. thinking of all the mouthy responses that you’d give him in response. 

how does he get your phone number? he has to make sure that he finds out where you’re going next to make sure that if today doesn’t work out in his favor, he gets another chance to talk to you again. 

would he rub salt in the wound by bringing up your past with kim and aimee? or would that push your right over the edge into agreeing with him? there was clearly some vitriol there, if they were able to digress from dragging him under the bus to do it to you instead. 

and most importantly.

is his plan even viable? is it insulting for him to propose that you write fake songs about him to help his public image? surely there was nothing that you would gain from it, so was it even a legitimate thing for him to ask? 

the hours of research that he had done last night made it feel like he had a crystal clear image of what he needed to do. but the courage and bravery that he was feeling last night was dwindling close to almost nothing when he knew that you were only a few walls away, that he was subject to your mercy when it came to this entire thing. 

he thinks that the lack of sleep, coupled with the slight delusions that he’s entertaining at the current moment, are going to bite him in the ass.  

it’s right at that moment when he hears a clapping as you walk out onto the set, a purple guitar in your hand as you take a seat at the main stage. he can hear his heart beating in his ears, automatically stretching up in his seat as he watches you tuck your hair behind your ears and wave at the crowd in front of you. 

“hi guys! how are we doing today?” you ask, leaning into the microphone. 

there’s a resounding sound of cheers, one that you give a big smile to, as you press your hands to your chest to stop the beating. 

the facts are running through sukuna’s head. the purple guitar is the same one that you use on your tour. when you tour. the silver ring on your pointer finger is one that a fan gifted to you in lisbon. you learned how to play piano when you were five. 

“for those of you who are new here, i’m y/n. i’m so so flattered that npr invited me here to sing a few songs for you. i’m so excited to show you some of the new stuff i’ve been working on and play some old ones while i’m ahead. but yeah –” 

sukuna watches as you pause mid-sentence. he watches as you pause, almost in confusion, to the point where you stop talking. 

correction. 

sukuna watches as you pause mid-sentence at the exact moment that the two of you make eye contact. that you’re confused at his presence, that you recognize him, that it’s enough to warrant a pause. 

it sends a wave of elation through sukuna as he lifts his hand, giving you a polite wave from his seat, one that he watches you graciously return, with a sweet smile, before looping the strap of your guitar over your neck. 

sukuna pretends that it doesn’t make his heart swell up in hope, that he had elicited a reaction from you. that you returned the wave that he offered you. that this could go his way, in the slightest. 

“well, right. this first song is a new one that i’ve been working on. i wrote it around a few days ago after i went to this stupid afterparty from one of the events that my studio was holding and it’s about some of the company i’ve kept. it’s called girl i’ve always been.” you state.

"Baby doll, you have changed" That's the thing you always say Cursin' me, trash my name I rained all over your parade Now you're on my couch, you're fightin' tears You say I'm cruel beyond my years And as I'm walkin' out that door Say you don't know me anymore

sukuna quickly realizes that there’s something about singing that does it for you. because your entire demeanor changes. you relax your shoulders from the tense position they’re usually in, swing your hips to the beat of the song, and make very expressive facial expressions that seem even more lively than the videos he had watched all night. 

you seem electric. 

Well, I have captors I call friends I got panic rooms inside my head And I get down with crooked men But I am the girl I've always been I got wrapped up in the game again And you woke up in an empty bed And I can't say I'm a perfect ten But I am the girl I've always been 

“holy shit. i know jake’s somewhere shitting his pants over this.” nobara murmurs. 

“that’s what that dumbass gets for airing out that she wouldn’t have sex with him. like that’s something he’s entitled to.” megumi responds back. 

“an idiot like that probably thinks that he’s entitled to everything.” nobara responds. 

sukuna can feel his ears burning. his chest heaving – because there’s too much information, because he doesn’t know what to do with all of it – but he knows that it's important. that he could use it the way he needed, if he worded it right. 

jake was the guy from last night. he was friends with aimee, maybe a little too close with aimee, who you clearly weren’t fond of either. and if there was one thing that aimee was, it was possessive. jealous. angry when she felt that things weren’t going her way. 

that’s why she was so pissed when he ended it with her, since he was the one who had the upper hand. clearly she’d be even more mad if he retreated to the place that she hated the most – right into your arms. 

it almost feels like time is moving too fast, that his thoughts are plaguing the current moment, because before he knows it there’s a resounding sound of clapping, coupled with you leaving through the door on the left. 

he hadn’t even solidified what he wanted to say yet. 

sukuna’s not sure what wills him to act so quickly, but without saying anything to the group of them, he darts behind you and enters through the door, only to be welcomed to a darkly lit hallway and no sign of you. 

there’s a confusing mix of signs that are littered on the wall, none of which give him any aid towards finding the direction you went in, as he takes a sharp left turn and starts speeding across the plastic tiled floors. 

how could you have disappeared so fast? did he even go in the right direction? 

sukuna counts his lucky stars, because not even four doors down, he finds a paper tacked to the room, your name embellished in sparkly letters and glittering graphics as he reaches for the handle and opens the door. 

this was his chance. to spill it all out. 

his heart pounds as he opens the door, but much to his dismay, he finds the room empty and sans your presence. 

what the hell was he supposed to do now? 

but he takes the quiet moments to stake his claim, only because he figures – he hopes – that you’ll return here at some point as he takes a seat in the chair at the side. and even if you don’t, your belongings might have to give him some clue. at the very least, he could leave his phone number in here and pray that someone would return it to you. 

he’s drawn first to the vanity, the one that he figures you were sitting at only hours prior when you were getting ready for the performance. there’s an array of makeup spread across the table, a handwritten note at the top of the box. 

you’re a doll! good luck on your performance - mimi

your producer. the one that he had seen in the interviews, that you stated was like your sister. he categorizes the thought in his mind, trying to commit it’s importance to his memory. 

the next thing that catches his attention is a picture that’s tacked to the mirror on the left. 

he steals it off the glass, treasuring the image in his fingers, as he looks at it up close. he can recognize everyone in the picture – eren, mikasa, and historia – your self proclaimed friends that you talked about in almost every interview and megumi attached to your side on the right. 

he figures that you must be younger here, only because you look so different. your hair longer than it was currently, the smile on your face smaller than he’s ever seen it. he flips it over, noting the handwriting in the back, in each of the four corners. 

you’re the best friend i’ve ever had - mikasa 

my idol, always - historia 

the one and only love of my life (derogatory) - megumi 

cheering you on forever, star girl! - eren 

it only confuses him more, the premise of each of the messages. star girl means that it had to be recent, because your album had only come out a few months ago. then how could you look so different only a little while back? unless the picture was older? 

why you would feel inclined to tack it to the glass if you were only going to be here for a few hours. what did megumi mean by his statement? 

sukuna can feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach as he hears the door swing open, coupled with the sight of you in the mirror, with a confused look plastered on your face. 

like a deer caught in headlights. 

“are you stalking me, princess bubblegum?” you ask. 

sukuna immediately drops the picture onto the vanity, turning around to find you standing there, a cup of iced coffee in your hand as you give him a sly smile. he lets out a nervous laugh, only at getting caught so blatantly.  

“just a very big fan, marceline.” he responds. 

you cross your hands over your chest, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“you weren’t even singing along.” you state. 

sukuna grins. 

“were you watching me?” 

“the pink hair is abhorrent. it’s almost hard not to.” you state. 

“most people are into the pink hair thing. it’s one of a kind, you know? and in my defense, two of those songs were new. i’m learning.” sukuna clarifies. 

you widen your eyes. he was too obvious. he was trying to be too obvious. 

“seems like someone’s been doing his homework.” you state. 

“i’m somewhat of an overachiever.” he responds. 

you push past him, taking a seat at the chair in the center of the vanity, and set the drink that megumi had got to you to the left. sukuna takes it as an invitation to invade your space, his hands braced against both of the armrests of his chair, his cheek lingering against your shoulder. 

“i made the drink for you, you know?” sukuna asks. 

“i have a sneaking suspicion that you didn’t know it was for me.” you state. 

“if i did, i would have written you a little note on the cup. i only do that for girls who are special, you know?” 

you roll your eyes. 

“and what did i do to gain such favor in your eyes?” 

sukuna smiles at you through the mirror. 

“i find you impressive. i’m entirely fascinated by how you work and i…i want to know more. i have a feeling that you and i could be very useful to each other.” 

you set the glass down on the vanity. 

“i’m guessing you didn’t just insist on showing up to my tiny desk, despite the fact that you were supposed to giving someone a car? for nothing. was there something you wanted from me? because i’d rather you be straightforward and say it to me instead of speaking in tongues.” you state. 

sukuna clicks his tongue in his cheek. megumi must have told you – surely you couldn’t be that good at predicting everything. 

“perceptive. are you always like this, princess?” sukuna asks. 

“does that bother you? it’s something you’ll have to get used to.” you ask. 

“quite the contrary. i enjoy a challenge.” 

you hum, twisting the plastic of the straw in your fingers. 

“really. what do you want?” you ask. 

sukuna nods, before crossing the way and leaning against the edge of your vanity at your side. 

“i think that you and i could be really useful to each other. i know that you’re not particularly fond of aimee, of jake and all of his bullshit, and i’m not either. that and the fact that she blocked you from getting the number one spot when you clearly had the better song.” 

sukuna watches your eye twitch. he’s found the soft spot. the thing that irritates you.

losing.

“your show is about to get tanked by whatever it is she has coming next.” you retort back. 

sukuna grins. he’s got you exactly where he wants you. you wouldn't get defensive if it didn't bother you.

“you know about my show? have you been stalking me?” 

you feel your cheeks burn. 

“because of megumi, sweetheart. nothing more nothing less.” 

sukuna feels his chest pang slightly, from the embarrassment. because of course you know about the show from megumi. 

“right, well. seriously. it would really piss them off if you started dating me, even if it was just for looks. what they don’t know won’t hurt them.” 

you sigh, pushing off the edge of your chair, as you stand close to him. and you’re able to smell it again, the minty musk, as you give him a smile. 

“i know that you know aimee. i don’t give a fuck about jake, but i do know that people who are as egotistical as that tend to get possessive. especially about things that aren’t theirs. and as scathing as your songs are, there’s one surefire way to piss them both off – to get two birds with one stone.” 

you ponder over the thought. and sink into your chair about how much he’s thought about this, caught off guard by the fact that he’s got it entirely on the nose. 

but you can’t. you need time to think. you don’t even know who he is. 

“i appreciate the offer. but, i’m not interested in getting tangled up with them again.” you state. 

“they started it already. you don’t want to bite back?” sukuna goads, leaning in closer to your cheek.  

“i’m not the type.” you respond. 

sukuna pauses. 

“from what i’ve seen, i don’t necessarily think that's true.” 

“do you think you’ve got me all figured out, sukuna?” you ask. 

he loves the way his mouth rolls off your tongue and the accusatory tone in your voice when you say it. like you’re trying to get him to take the bait, like the two of you are playing a game. 

and he leans closer, smiling down at you as he wraps he cups your cheek with his left hand, before pinching at your cheek. 

“i’m almost positive that i do.” he responds. 

and he’s quick with it, reaching forward and tucking the stray strands of your hair behind your ear, before reaching for your hand, and scribbling something onto your palm.

you only look down at your hand when he retreats, his phone number inked on your hand. 

“either way, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” he states, before slamming the door shut behind him. 

you think about it. think about it all night, the way his hand felt against your cheek, the warmth in his smile, why you even saved the number in the first place.

would it even make sense to help him? would they really be so mad the way that he anticipated?

the thoughts rumble through your mind , over and over, until something pushes you over the edge, right into his hand. 

[hisu]: SOS CHECK TWITTER 

[hisu]: WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP 

[hisu]: AIMEE STOLE YOUR SONG

--

--

next part linked here

an: anyways.

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @timmytimmytuckyy @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga @skunabby @meisque @hoseokslefteyebrow @thepurpleempath @shrimphutao4ever @monic19 @najaemism @haitanibros0007 @catobsessedlady @luvs4kim @ri-sa20 @thejujvtsupost @invisible-mori @satoruslipbalm @kyo-kyo1 @telepathicheartss @huhsthccvjh @sxnkuna @w31rdg1rl @lilalia3945 @multiplefandomthings @shotovhs @voids-universe @timetobegone @deeeeexx @livelovelaughisagiyochi @pelicanpizza @cowgirlikets @jeon-blue @phantomasmaniac @yoontaedotin @cowgirlikets @estrella-novella @theauthorunicorn @catastayy @ryumurin @kindadolly @th0tformikasa @r0ckst4rjk @you-always-made-me-blush @leave-rae-alone @lemonnotade @firelordazulaaaa

[butlervibesonly]

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 || Austin Butler

• Summary : Austin had a rough day filming, and Y/n wants him to feel better as he comes home. Dinner, and, welp, a hot bath that isn't just a hot bath...

• Pairing : Austin Butler x female! reader

• Warnings : fluff, kisses and little bit of spiciness by the end...

• Note : I wish, and I'm repeating, I wish, I could write spicy scenes and the more I wish is to be able to finish them (forgive me) 😭🥲

Being an actor is surely amazing thing. Although it could be also very exhausting, and it can be rough. And that's Austin's case. He texted you more than once saying how much he was looking forward to going home, that he had had a hard day and was tired.

After a grueling day on set, he finally steps through the door, exhaustion visible in his eyes and in the heavy slump of his shoulders. The moment Austin walks in, though, he’s greeted by the warm, savory aroma of his favorite food drifting from the kitchen.

“Hey, babe, I'm home,” he calls out softly, and you peek around the corner, giving him a warm smile. You can see just how drained he is, and without a word, you walk over and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Austin lets out a sigh, resting his head against yours, clinging to you as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I made your favorite,” you say softly, giving him a little smile. “I thought you might need a good meal after today.” His eyes soften, and he leans down to press a grateful kiss against your lips. And woah, how much he missed those lips. “You have no idea how much I needed this.”

You guide him to the table, where you’ve already set up everything—candles, his favorite dish, and even a little dessert. As Austin sits down, he looks around, visibly touched by the thought and care you’ve put into making this night special. You serve him, and as he takes his first bite, he lets out a satisfied hum, his eyes meeting yours with a grateful, softened expression.

"This. Is. Frickin'. Delicious." Austin said every word in the way to make you know this was what he craved for. "You're the best cook I know," he says, continuing to eat his food. "Well, thank you, dreamboat." you chuckle.

After dinner, you reach for Austin's hand, pulling him gently toward the bathroom. “I have one more surprise,” you say with a playful smile. He raises an eyebrow, curious, but lets you lead him inside, where you’ve already prepared a warm bubble bath. The room is softly lit with candles, the bath filled with bubbles and infused with his favorite soothing scents. He stares in awe for a second, then looks at you, clearly moved.

“I can’t believe you did all this…for me,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulls you in for another hug. “Of course I did,” you murmur, brushing a hand through his hair. “You do so much every day, and I just want you to relax tonight.”

He squeezes your hand and when he noticed that you actually also added rose petals, he can't help but laugh. "Do you know you should be the one who deserves such a romantic bath?" Austin jokes, making you smile. "You mean a rough man like you doesn't deserve a little tenderness?"

Austin laughs back at your humor, and starts to take off his clothes. As much as you fight the urge, you still watch his muscular body. He gets in, comfortable in the warm water, closes his eyes, the tension in his shoulders finally easing. "Wait a second," you managed to speak again, leaving him in the bathroom.

As you come back, you carry a glass of champagne with a strawberry in it. "There you go," you say, handing him the glass. Austin's smile widen, making him smirk. "You haven't forgotten anything, have you?" he said and took a sip. You follow him with your eyes, every move, every sigh he lets out. Even though he is tired, he is incredibly hot.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch?" Austin lets out, when he notices you standing there like a fool. "Join me, the tub is big enough." he smirks. How is even possible he can make you feel butterflies like some teenage girl?

After doubting for a moment, he nodded his head towards the bath to signal that there was plenty of room beside him. Finally, you agreed, taking your clothes off, too. His eyes don't leave you, capturing your every move. He holds out his hand, which is wet, covered in bubbles, to help you get inside.

You lay beside him, his arm around your shoulders as he press a kiss into your hair. You can feel the way his body reacts to your touch, making him hum. You then felt Austin kissing your neck, more intensively every time.

"I thought you were tired?" You smirked, looking at him. "I'm never too tired for you, doll," he says, his voice deep. Doll. That nickname is stuck with him since he played Elvis and you absolutely loved it. His hands started to roam around your body, and eventually flipped you, so you lay on the top of him.

You heard the water splash out when he did so. Gasping a little, he pressed his lips against yours. "You're so, so amazing. I can't get enough of you." Austin breathes fast as he continues pressing a small kisses all around your neck.

The original plan was for you to watch a movie together, but now it's clear that Mr. Butler has something much different planned...

[ravenstargames]

✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #13 | 11.11.24

Feels good to be back! This is our first post-Kickstarter devlog and I'm so excited to be writing it.

First of all— Lost in Limbo was successfully funded on September 20th, 2024! 🎉🎇

Yep, it has been almost two months, but it's still something to celebrate! Thanks to every single one of you for making this possible! We didn't meet all our stretch goals (there were a lot and taxes are a pain) but that doesn't mean we are giving up on those. More on that another time.

There's a lot of things we want to show y'all, so let's jump into it!

A sneak peak of Envy's postcard!

Raquel has been working hard on getting the "special postcards from your favorite LI" ready to send them to print ASAP! Initially we were going to use art we already had of the LIs, but we thought it was more exciting to offer y'all exclusive art pieces. After this, Raquel will focus exclusively on the rework of the sprites!

We hosted a few polls and got a lot of feedback. If you missed it, you can check it here!

Astro says hello :^)

As you know, the Extended Demo will feature more locations, including a glimpse of the MC's city, Faybourne! Astro is getting the main street ready for you and your bestie as you go on about your day. I've calculated around three / four different and new locations to properly pace the demo as we imagined it in the first place!

The writing deparment (me. i'm the department) has been focusing on the Extended Demo script. I have a lot of things to play with, like the flavor choices, the personality choices, and more. I want to create a proper balance because one of the things y'all asked for was more choices, and the pacing needed a bit of fixing, as we already knew!

The Extended Demo will actually introduce characters you've heard about, like your mom, your ominous grandmother, and your bestie. So no more talking about them, you'll actually get to meet them like we wanted to!

There will also be more time with the LIs, and hopefully the amount of time you spend with each one of them will feel more balanced, too.

Programming has been an adventure! Huge shoutout to Feniks for helping me figure out how to properly make a toggle for the timed choices as well as helping me polish the personality system. What a lifesaver!

So the timed choices toggle now works perfectly. That means you'll be able to turn them off if you'd like to play the game without being jumpscared by a timer—that doesn't mean you won't be able to mess up, though, on purpose or not :^) This is a dark game, after all!

The personality choice system lets you decide how the MC reacts to things including the nature of your romance with the LI. That means dialogue will automatically change in certain parts of the game to reflect the personality of your MC, some options will be locked, some unlocked, etc. There's three different personalities available.

For colorblind folks, the choices will have a different icon when you hover over them for you to know they're different!

Also, I've started coding some extra mini cgs Kayden's been working on! There'll be more in the Extended Demo to enhance the experience, so we hope you enjoy them! :^)

All the packaging stuff has arrived to our provisional headquarters (Raquel's home), and our business cards have been secured! Every backer with physical goodies will receive one for free :^) This month has been all about managing Backerkit, orders and merch, as well as preparing the Extended Demo. We hope we can receive everything very very soon and start shipping packages starting December!

For now, that's it! There's a lot of stuff going behind the scenes, a lot of things that need attention, and a lot of planning happening. Also the catastrophe the DANA has been on our cities is keeping me a bit on edge, but I'm trying to focus on work. This Saturday I'm going on a trip to Greece with my family, so I'll disconnect then! It's our first time traveling to a different country since I was like...seven years old? And we have been saving up and preparing a lot for the trip, so we are excited :^)

I hope everyone has been taking care and doing alright! Have a huge hug from the Ravenstar Team, and see you around!

[yaseraphinee]

astro observations 5 - appearance and vibes / Cancer rising men

Men used as examples in this post : Booba / Troye Sivan / Nekfeu / Bill Gates / The Weeknd / Salvador Dali / George Michael/ Pharrell Williams / John Cena / Cyril Hanouna

Physical appearance 

Weirdly enough, a lot of them have chad faces / the type to be labeled as a "professional moggers" or whatever it is called / probably the most objectively handsome men in my opinion / square jaws / soft watery eyes / smooth skin / irresistible and sweet smirk

When they get older, some of them end up having the Dilf/ Daddy type of looks with this softness still remaining that usually makes women melt (yes i used John Cena as a dilf example..sorry guys)

"There must have been an angel by my side"

The eyes and the jaw is huge here, they also are generally muscular -> the chest area is prominent in a way

They tend to look like cherubs. They have an angel-like appearance.

Really angelic and cute appearance. A little shy the first time you meet, get flustered easily, pink ears and cheeks

The eyes are really expressive and sparkly. It's like you can see stars being reflected in their eyes when you look at them. A really soft, poetic and deep gaze that can make you blush a bit. Their eyes from what I have seen are full of emotions. Really captivating but not in a intense scopionic sense, it's more magical kind of like bishonen, the standard face of male protagonists in shojos or just generally a lot of animes (think of Howl in the Ghibli movie Howl's moving castle)

Body : usually smaller than average. Twinks or buff dudes with a heart of gold. There is no in-between in my experiences.

If you know about Kibbe or Kitchener's body type and face type essences systems :

Kibbe body type :  Flamboyant gamine, or gamine , some could be soft classic even

Face type / essence : Gamine, Ingenue or more rarely Angelic (ethereal)

First impressions, vibes, general way of presenting themselves

Right off the bat, there is something significant about the way they speak and interact with people. They usually have really soft, deep and soothing voices. Talk in a really calm and composed manner. They take their time to speak. They take their time to pronounce each word.

Have a way with words that is usually really captivating. Really calming presence. Natural talent for poetry, play on words. They can be really good at voice acting. They usually have a really good diction too. Really good storytellers.

Appears really shy though. Can’t really hide their emotions, we can easily read right through them.

A lot of them are artistically inclined, really sensitive men. Women feel safe around them and they are often surrounded by women.

Really appreciated by women. The type of men little girls want to marry when they grow up.

They usually know how to keep people at ease by using humor too. They tend to be quite funny and have a really relatable humor. Usually really good at imitations too. Good at picking up on people’s emotions. 

Really caring and attentive to their loved ones.

Likes to call people by pet names/ cute nicknames like "darling", "angel" "sweatheart", etc ..from my experience. The type to say "let's go kids!" to their group of friends. Even if they are men, they are just usually really maternal.

Usually is quite expressive in their "face body language" and likes to make goofy facial expressions. Their emotions are just visible on their face.

Makes deep eye contact, nods at everything you say. The type to tell you " no no it's ok keep going 😆😅" when you're losing your train of thoughts.

If you accidentally overshare, and they obviously see you’re embarrassed, they will reassure you.

Killers on the Dancefloor ? : Something also quite random about them is that they all have these silly little dances and signature moves that they do. If you invite them to a party, be prepared to be impressed. It’s a bit silly and kind of cute but at same time they’re killing it.

You feel like you can cry in their arms vibes. They have this friendly energy.

A lot of them tend to create a community since they need it. Always in search of their soul family.

A lot of them tend to have groupies from what I have seen. Like they can become the main pillar that holds their friend group together. 

Generally really paternal/maternal, kind of like a reassuring parental figure. Just like Capricorn risings, they have this parental figure vibes to them. It's like you can count on them. However , Capricorn risings represent more the archetype of the Father, representing tough love and practicality. Cancer risings on the other hand represent the archetype of the Mother, focusing on emotional security and vulnerability.

When Capricorn risings look like they would give you great life advice and be a good mentor, Cancer risings look like you can be vulnerable and open up to them, like they can provide you emotional healing. Kind of like a therapist in a way.

The Devil hidden behind those angelic eyes : 

Smooth Operator - Sade : “his eyes are like angels but his heart is cold”

“No place for beginners or sensitive hearts

When sentiment is left to chance

“No place to be ending but somewhere to start”

“A license to love, insurance to hold

Melts all your memories and change into gold

His eyes are like angels but his heart is cold”

Despite all this potential to be an amazing, emotionally mature, sensitive and creative person a lot of them will fall in the shadows. Deception, emotional manipulation, victimization, gaslighting will be their driving force and fuel through life. Because of unresolved negative and destructive emotional patterns, they will become the most vile and manipulative creatures you’ll ever meet, all of this disguised behind a mask of sympathy and openness. They will trick you into thinking you can open up yourself to them, that they’ll understand you. You will not realize until it’s too late that you’ve been tricked by their sweet words and their skills to read right through people. They will project and consistently play victim. They will become professional actors. They will be the type of men Raye describes in her song named :  “Oscar Winning Tears.” She says that about the song : “This is about a man who put me through hell, and then proceeded to cry about it. I wanted to create a big dramatic classic feeling record with live strings to capture the audacity of his silly tears, to feel powerful whilst telling this story”

=> “Truly, I'm vulnerable, I love a sentiment

Quickly I opened up, I learned my lesson then

Thought I was safe again, thought he was innocent

I was so wrong”

“I can't deny

I thought you were the man, but you had a plan

The fuck you lying for? Fuck you crying for?

You did it again (yeah, ah-ah-ah)”

“So I'll take this front row seat

And baby, baby, you can go ahead

Cry those Oscar-winning tears

Popcorn and I scream

Baby, baby, you can go ahead

Cry those Oscar winning (tears) tears, baby”

The white lies will begin to be stained by red dots of blood. Their heightened intuition and sensitivity will not be used for good and will become a deadly weapon. A weapon that traps its victims in a sugar coated hell. Let’s not forget that their shadow (their 7th house sign) is Capricorn, represented by The Devil in Tarot.  The light of their angel-like charm will pull you in only to realize too late that you’ve fallen deep in the shadows, embraced by the hands of the devil. But it’s too late. You’ve already fallen too deep in the umbra to even see just a gleam.

Cancer risings sadly tend to be stuck in really toxic emotional cycles from what I have seen. 

A lot of them tend to be master manipulators. The type to guilt-trip and gaslight you. 

Real-life examples of this shadow side: 

Shane Dawson was extremely well-liked on the internet. He was infamous for his funny skits, was good at imitations and kind of created this relatable persona that people got attached to. Cancerian energy gave him this familiar and “sweet” guy vibes that made people admire his apparent transparency. Turns out he was extremely manipulative and problematic.

Nekfeu , In his songs, there is a scary amount of self-awareness regarding his toxic behaviors and the patterns he tends to repeat. This to me is the peak example of how thin the layer is between each signs’ light and shadow side. This hyper self-awareness towards their shadow side while simultaneously consciously repeating it describes really well those men. They don’t use their intuition for good.

Laughable loves / Ridiculous loves (risibles amours)

“And each time I care, I can't be myself

Why this need to hide everything ?

None of these girls matter, and I met you

You were different, it scared me, and I screwed up

We were part of a whole thing, we were high perched

If I lost her, I would have looked for it”

“My boy's envies/desires turn into a boring game

Relationships which lead me nowhere

Even if I'm trying to find the solution in this illusion of seduction

I've got the feeling that I only knew one woman

I know the risks of love but I'm still having a taste for the risk

the boy’s envies/ desires is to be understood in “my boyish desires”. He is rapping about the desires he has that are one of a boy, not  a man. He knows it, knows it is self-destructive. Throughout the entire song, he shows really obvious self-awareness.

=> It is really hard to find good/ perfect translations to his play on words since sometimes he uses french idioms that aren't easily translatable in english without losing the meaning. (i found the lyrics' translation here => https:/lyricstranslate.com/fr/risibles-amours-laughable-loves.html)

/!\ disclaimer - mention of domestic abuse /!\

When I made that post, it wasn’t known yet that one of  the main examples used here (Nekfeu / the guy in the two pictures in between The Weeknd holding his grammys and next to troye sivan in the "there must have been an angel by my side" part) recently got exposed for having “allegedly” physically, psychologically and sexually abused his ex-partner. (i put allegedly in quotations marks because girl there are much higher chances he did it then not. I will always stand with the victims. If you went through something similar know that : Victims we always believe you and we stand by you ! ). While preparing for the post, the news wasn't out yet so I had to change the way I portrayed him accordingly. I think a reminder is always needed because putting him here will unfortunatly make him have some "visibility". I don't want to present him in a positive light or to make him gain potential new fans. If I can use this post to raise awareness, I will do it gladly. Especially with the current state of the world, and how more and more women's rights are getting taken away.

The Weeknd , being a cancer rising with a capricorn stellium shows this duality really well. His lyrics are raw and confessional. He shows a lot of self-awareness regarding his terrible and toxic behaviors. He is absolutely aware that he is stuck in karmic cycles yet this awareness isn’t enough to get him out of those self-destructive cycles.

Cyril Hanouna, is a very controversial french radio host and TV host and producer. He is known for being extremely narcissistic and for always playing victim, saying people are trying to attack him unfairly. He is extremely manipulative and sly, and pretends it’s always other people’s fault.

+BONUS / Additional visual examples :

[starberry-cupcake]

oooohhhh boyyyyyyyy Stuff Happened you folks, this might be obnoxious because there was a lot of exposition, let's hope I can keep it decent. As always, sending you all positive vibes in these trying times ♥

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

CHAPTER 50

30 minutes for emperor destruction, prepare the champagne

gideon is being taken by yandere twin to meet doctor reverend emperor john

she isn't very into that idea, but doesn't have much of a choice

doctor reverend emperor john is having a very important conversation with someone in the room, so gideon and yandere twin hide to listen in

and the conversation is with non other than not!dulcinea

not!dulcinea is being possessed

by commander wake

I ASKED FOR THIS IN THE PREVIOUS ONE

why did you need harrow, then, you dramatic asshat?

so, basically, commander wake's name is actually a couple quotes and lyrics to eminem's song from 8 mile

her name isn't amanda, it's just awake, etc.

I'd take amanda over eminem but ok

they said they are words that date back thousands of years, so we're in the future

I considered this, but not due to book reasons, just because one time I was talking to @lady-harrowhark about one time a barbie of mine was stolen when I was a kid and it somehow related to tlt, this was A Long Time Ago but I thought "what, are the books in the future?"

I have no idea if my hollywood hair barbie had anything to do with the books directly or if it was just some fandom thing @lady-harrowhark knows and I don't, but that planted the idea in my head

if it's a spoiler, don't tell me

but I didn't pick up any clues from the book until eminem

emperor's last name is gaius, which I knew from an untagged non context dashboard post

doctor reverend emperor john gaius wants to know what commander wake was doing in the ninth, because she landed there on purpose

and also is impressed that she's been a revenant for nearly 20 years and doesn't know how she got there

I think it's the sword

so, in come augustine and mercygirl

because now we're having a party

dr reverend emperor john says "Am I in trouble?" because he's the most punchable asshole in the known universe

and introduces commander wake with an evanescence quote rather than an eminem quote

yes, ok, I much prefer that, thank you

thank you, Fallen by Evanescence (2003) you changed my life

so, turns out that commander wake was in cahoots with these two lyctors

but things turned south and gideon the first was sent to kill her

she went to the ninth to break into the tomb

it always comes down to the tomb

ice cube barbie is very popular

so, I was right when I said that gideon wasn't conceived Traditionally

the eggs were my clue on that bit, the eggs on the notes

they were supposed to 1) use dr reverend emperor john's genes to 2) create a baby with his blood to 3) break the blood ward to 4) open the tomb

CONVOLUTED LYCTOR PLANS

but the eggs didn't work, so commander wake decided to birth gideon herself

when I said gideon was a demigod and used hercules memes and when I compared her to superman or whatever

I was more correct than I thought

commander wake called gideon "bomb"

this song could go into the gideon playlist @lady-harrowhark and I were talking about

because we didn't have enough lyctors at this party, in comes gideon the first

from battling the beast, which is what everyone was supposed to be doing, btw, just putting that out there

gideon the first will receive a lot of very clever, funny and amazing nicknames by gideon that I can't even remotely compete with

I vow to you and your prowess for nicknames, queen

gideon the first comes in, removes gideon's glasses from harrow's body, and slides them on his face

commander wake me up before you go go looks at him with heart eyes

and he shoots her

gideon, things were so much easier when you didn't have a family, girl

this is too stressful

everyone is surprised that gideon the first fought the beast, the beast ran and gideon the first is alive

I am NOT SURPRISED because HE WAS FIGHTING ALONGSIDE MATI NONIUS

and ortus, and protozoa, and martita

BUT, MOST IMPORTANTLY, MATI NONIUS

well done team harrow!!!

so, basically, gideon the first didn't say anything about the whole commander wake situation because he thought gideon was his

which accounts for my doubts the other recap on how I thought gideon wasn't Conceived Traditionally but there were doubts from gideon the first's side

gideon prime, gideon zero, gideon senior (all gideon jokes, not mine) says he was with her for about two years

so augustine starts explaining how they got dr reverend emperor john's genetic material through god apate major

WHY AM I NOT SURPRISED

IT'S ALWAYS THE ORGIES, ISN'T IT?

man, I'd rather not know the details, thank you

gideon the first also doesn't want to know the details

the emperor's bolthole wasn't as inexorable as it was advertised to be, turns out

it's basically a revolving door

ANYWAY

the emperor goes "so you killed her and the baby, right?"

IN COMES GIDEON, INTRODUCING HERSELF

"I'm not fucking dead"

and the emperor goes "hi, not fucking dead, I'm dad"

CHAPTER 51

gideon starts remembering childhood things like suffering and fighting with harrow and telling harrow that maybe she is the daughter of someone important and they don't know it

"You remember how the fuck-off great aunts always used to say, suffer and learn? If they were right, Nonagesimus, how much more can we take until you and me achieve omniscience?"

man, this is rough

so, the thing about the eyes

gideon apparently has AL's eyes

whose name isn't only Annabel Lee

it's also Alecto

the alecto everyone keeps mentioning in the fandom

so, this explains why seeing gideon's eyes was like seeing a ghost to these lyctors

also why ice cube barbie had gideon's eyes

THERE ARE A LOT OF THREADS GOING ON IN THIS BOARD

GIDEON IS CONNECTED TO A LOT OF PEOPLE

NONE OF THEM GOOD

the lyctors bring back what teacher said in canaan au, about them asking dr reverend emperor john to kill AL aka Annabel Lee aka Alecto aka ice cube barbie

apparently all of them (except for gideon the first) hated her and were low key scared of her and high key scared of what might happen with her around

they think the beasts are coming partly because of her

and whatever dr reverend emperor john did to resurrect her

the emperor says he didn't kill her, he "switched her off"

not successfully, because she's been sort of roaming around

mercygirl and augustine say that everything about this is very sus because what if he didn't kill AL??? and what is going on with the origin of his power???

dr reverend emperor john goes "you both do tend to go overboard on the foreplay"

mercygirl and augustine figured out that harrow's true cavalier had AL's eyes

but it was impossible for a baby to be born with AL's genes

however, it was very probable that a baby had been born in the ninth with the emperor's genes

because they had been planning on that to happen

albeit in a different way, without the human intervention

so, if gideon has AL's eyes but the emperor's genes

it means AL's eyes aren't hers and the emperor's aren't his

the emperor's weird eyes are AL's and gideon's eyes are the emperor's

because.......

he achieved lyctorhood without having to slurp his cavalier aka AL

I'm very interested in this potential situation if we get gideon alive again

but everyone else is pissed off because they had to slurp their cavaliers unnecessarily

yandere twin also decides to join the chat after this

and, apparently, anastasia had figured it out too

the ninth necro who everyone said was the one who couldn't become a lyctor

the one with a room unused

until harrow

the emperor's version of events is that things went off the rails in the process and he had to kill them both

augustine tells dr reverend emperor john to just stop already with his plan of destroying everything

and the emperor says that the man before his resurrection would have hated him to say that

mercygirl then goes "I'll forgive you if you tell me you didn't mean to kill my cav"

and the emperor goes "yes, I'll do whatever"

so he hugs mercygirl

and mercygirl

FUCKING DECIMATES HIM

SHE WRECKS HIM

SHE MELTS HIM INTO NOTHINGNESS

gideon says she's an orphan again while I'm giving everyone a party hat and a piece of celebratory cake

I'M SORRY THIS WAS LONG but we're reaching the end of this book!!! See you next time!!!

[wuaxoi]

always

synopsis! you and your idol girlfriend finally got a chance to meet and spend some time together

IDOL! nigning x NON IDOL! reader GENRE! fluff, literally idiots in love TW! kissing, reader is blushing all the time lol, only using of ningning's real name, pet names ( baby ), non proofread, poor language(?) NOW IS PLAYING! . . . always by zerobaseone

“wanna grab some ice cream?” you turned your head to look at yizhuo. she just puts her phone back into her bag. she was on a call with her manager a few moments ago. yizhuo was always busy, even at her free days she needed to take care of something or wanted to practice more, saying she wasn't doing enough. that's the point of being an idol, that is so hard and you always need to be prepared, always need to be perfect. your girlfriend's comeback promotion ended and you finally got a chance to spend some time together, so now you were on a date.

“yeah, sure!” you nodded. you didn’t really care what you both gonna do or talk about, because the only thing that you wanted is spend time with your girlfriend. and she wanted that too.

yizhuo smiled in response. that was just a simple smile, but you felt like you were the most special person in the world because that smile was for you. this smile sent warmth through your whole body and you couldn't resist the urge to hug your beautiful girlfriend.

“what are you doing?” yizhuo chuckled softly, looking down at your hands wrapped around her waist. she looked at your face, pointing out at your slight rosy cheeks. “you're blushing~”

“because im so in love with you, is that a problem?” you whines annoyingly at her teasing tone. yizhuo smile grew wider, her arms reaching out to wrap around your shoulders. now she was hugging you back and even though you've already hugged like a hundred times since you started dating, it felt so special to you. you always loved cuddling with yizhuo after a long time without her, especially when she comes home from tour.

“so you're in love with me?” yizhuo teased again with a slight smirk and you rolled your eyes before pulling back and playfully pushing her shoulder.

“stop teasing! im trying to make you feel loved!”

“but i do feel loved already!” yizhuo laughs at your reaction and reached out to stroke your cheek before she could place a quick kiss on your lips. “i love you too. and i hope you feel the same way, hope you know that i love you too..”

“i do know that! i know you love me and i know you cares about me, yizhuo. you don’t have to worry about that,” you leaned into her touch instinctively and looked at her. she was always so beautiful, her eyes were shining every time she was looking at you and that was one of the reasons why you always knew she loved you. you knew she felt the same way. “let’s go get that ice cream, hm?” you smiled slightly at her, taking her hand in yours and you both started walking towards that cute ice cream shop down the street.

yizhuo was talking about that place since it opened last year but you didn't have a chance to go there together until today, because of how busy her schedule was. you opened the door for her and you both came inside, looking around the spacious area. you noticed how quiet it were inside and only some boygroup song were playing at the back quietly. you turned your head to look at yizhuo and chuckled at her reaction: she was looking around with a pure excitement in her eyes, her mouth slightly opened. she was like a little kid who just got to disneyworld or something and that was so cute.

“you’re adorable..”

“this place is so cute!” yizhuo looked at you and smiled. you nodded and pointed at the menu on the nearest table.

“let’s sit there” together you walked towards the empty table, white furniture were covered in pink tablecloth and pillows that matched pastel blue and yellow interior of the shop. you sat next to yizhuo on the sofa and searched through the menu until one particular ice cream catches your eye. “i'll get this one!”

as you two ordered, you looked around the cafe once again. it was actually quite inside, the place itself was near the sea and you could see it from the window. it actually felt nice, just sitting in the quiet place with your girlfriend, chatting and enjoying the food. you missed those moments with her since she was so busy with all those schedules. sometimes you even felt left out because she spent so much time with her members, but not with you.

obviously those thoughts weren't permanent and you quickly reminded yourself that it was her job to spend time with her members and that she loved them almost as much as she love you. and she also enjoyed her work. and you were happy if she was happy. nothing else matters.

“you look pretty right now.” yizhuo suddenly spoke. your eyes widened a bit as you heard her unexpected words, you definitely did not know she was about to say that. even though you loved when she called you pretty or any other compliment. you just loved her, you could listen her talking about anything and would not get tired of it. because you loved her that much.

“thanks..” you felt your cheeks heating up, face turning slightly red. you couldn't help but feel fluttered and a bit shy every time your girlfriend was complimenting you.

“and you're even prettier when you're shy and all blushy like that,” yizhuo giggled.

“oh, can you stop?!” you whined in annoyance, covering your face with your hands. now you were embarrassed.

“no~” yizhuo leaned closer to you, her hand touching yours. the touch was so soft and gentle, you looked up at her. “because i looveee making you blush..” she smiled at you again. oh her smile. and the way she looked at you, her eyes full of adoration and love, her tone sweet.

“i love you.” those words came out your mouth and you couldn't stop it. that was literally the first thing that came to your mind when you saw her. not just now, every time you see your precious girlfriend your heart almost jumps out of your chest and you absolutely loved that feeling.

“i love you too, baby.”

author note: it took me SO LONG to finish this im so so sorry it turned out short too but anyway i think it's kinda cute… right?

[kazumist]

EPISODE 28 ✦ PLEASE LOVE ME AT MY WORST

LOVE, MAYBE — A CHILDE SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 1265.

fifteen minutes is almost up; am i about to die?

ajax thoughts wander to all sorts of places as he nervously checks and watches the time move on his wristwatch. as to why he agrees so easily to your request to talk to him—he doesn’t know either. it just felt… right to agree. 

he knows it would pain him to say no to you anyway.

perhaps it was just the small part of him that still hopes. that one little speck in him that hopes this “talk” would mend the rift that had formed between the two of you. it was probably stupid to have such expectations when he was pretty sure you were dead set on your answer to him before.

so it confuses him. why did you want to talk? did you want to just slap it in his face once again? no, you weren’t like that. you would never do something that mean. but that just leads him back to square one: why?

the sound of soft footsteps growing louder alerts ajax, and he takes a deep breath because he knows it’s you. yet he takes a glance to check anyway. there you were, standing before him as he gets the familiar feeling of being starstruck surging through him. keep it together, ajax. he warns himself. 

“hi…” you softly said. 

“hey.”

hey? who the hell says hey nowadays, ajax? get a grip! he mentally scolds himself, forcing him to pull out a tight smile to you instead to save him from his embarrassment. meanwhile, you thought otherwise of his reaction. oh god, he probably hates me. he never gives me that smile. it looks so forced. he probably just felt bad and forced himself to meet me out at this hour. your thoughts ran fast inside your mind as you fiddled with your fingers.

“uhm.. i wanted to talk—”

“so why did you want to meet—”

you both paused when you realized you both spoke at the same time. “you go first,” he insisted. but you gestured otherwise and told him, “oh, it’s fine. you can go.”

“i insist. ladies first?”

seeing as this would go nowhere if you just went back and forth like that, you took a deep breath. 

“i love you.”

for the whole day (and the additional fifteen minutes ajax gave you), you thought of many ways on how to approach childe with the topic of what happened before. yet none of those really started with “i love you." the best option you got after thinking so hard actually started with “i’m sorry.” the “i love you” part was supposed to be near the end of the whole monologue you had prepared inside your head.

ajax only stared at you, dumfounded at your words. “shit, sorry, i—that wasn’t how i wanted to start, uhm—” you let out a sigh, a slightly shaky one at that because of your mistake. don’t fuck up this one up and run away again, (name). you mentally took note. but then again, fuck that monologue you prepared beforehand. if you want to do this properly, then it’s better to do this as bare as your emotions could get, right?

taking another deep breath, you decided to speak up again before ajax could. “i’m going to be honest. i actually prepared some long speech that is supposedly transcribed inside my brain right now. but i definitely think i just forgot a good chunk of that speech now that i’m actually with you.” 

“i’m sorry, ajax. i let my fear get the best of me that day. i never wanted to tell you to go away; in fact, i know that i wanted nothing more than for you to hold me at that moment.” you let out a bitter chuckle at that. ajax watches you, listening to every word carefully. he takes in your appearance as well, and the slightly swollen and redness of your eyes were obvious enough for him to know your state as of late.

“i never wanted to push you away. and god, i feel so stupid and guilty for everything that i said that day. because i know none of those were true. well, i guess minus the part where i listed my flaws... because i know those were true in some sense—but i want to—no, nevermind that. i’m trying to change my ways.” you corrected yourself.

“i asked dehya and the others for some advice. and they were right when they said that you had a positive impact on my life and that i’ve never been this happy with someone else other than them. because i swear, you’re just a different case for me, ajax. you make me happy in ways i never thought anyone could bring me joy. when i thought i didn’t have anyone by my side, you were there for me.”

“and i feel so, so, so fucking stupid for shutting you away that day. because deep inside, i knew my heart wanted otherwise. my brain wanted you to leave me alone, but i knew my heart wanted for you to stay. for you to tell me that everything is alright.”

“i guess the main gist of everything that i’m saying is that i love you; i’m sorry. i love you, ajax. and i know i’m probably late, and that you probably hate me right now, and also how you probably just forced yourself outside just so you could meet up with me, but i love you. this whole thing is honestly still scary to me, considering this is the first time i have experienced this in my whole lifespan of eighteen years right now.”

“yet i still love you despite that. i’m sorry that it took me a while. and again, you don’t have to reciprocate it—i just wanted to let this all out. and like i said, you probably hate me—”

“am i allowed to speak now?” ajax.

“i—yeah, go ahead.”

“have i told you that i’m so proud of you?” he asks. you don’t know where he’s going with this. “you might’ve mentioned it once or twice in the past, yeah.” he chuckles at your reply. it feels like your walking on thin ice because you really have no idea if he’s about to drop a bomb right now about him rejecting you.

you don’t think you could handle that anyway.

“thank you, (name). i personally didn’t know what to expect with what you were going to say. but i  don’t hate you. i could never hate you. not now, not ever. hell, i knew that if i said no to your request of having a talk i would definitely regret it. and i’m proud of you that you managed to say all of that. learning how to communicate is a big step already, you know?”

ajax takes a step closer and you didn’t take a step back this time. you let him get close to you this time, fixing the distance that grew after you pushed him away. “and for the record, i love you too” he says, a bit more quietly, as if he really wants only you to hear those words coming from him. “that fact isn’t going to change anytime soon, silly.” 

“i’m sorry again. but i’m ready now. i’m prepared to take a risk in this whole thing they call love. so please love me at my worst, ajax.”

the night ends with ajax walking you home once again—but this time there wasn’t a single residue of the bitterness from before.

this time, it was filled with relief.

extra notes.

yayyyy!!! communication!!!!

i didn't expect for this episode to be so long. i was 700+ words in when i realized that it was going to be a bit lengthy.

taglist (open): @xianyoon @mitsvriii @kizakiss @kissingkzuha @aethion @phtogravi @ell1e2010 @esthelily @b4tm4nn @hcmay @ivvieene @morganadorodo @kaitfae @kentply @scaranthropy @kyon-cherri @kookiibun @kochothehoe @mekiiiii @ibyobi @iuspired @tetsuskei @kunikuzushis-darling @morgyyyyyyy @chluuvr @scaradooche @kissmiere @a1-ic3 @bubblegum-angelquartz @tiredjxnna @levlucs-kiru @angeilix @cerisescherries @saeskiss @a-talkative-corn @briluvspnk @kamisatoyato @bbysatoruuu @viviixoxosblog @bambisz @chemiru @eternal-dokja @bflyprincess @jamieexistss @monocerosei @enjisthings @jangyung @hahalame @cupid-spams @snzhrchy @ukinya @luciledreamz @bisatanica @bananasquash @almond-t0fu @thegalaxyisunfolding @jaguarthecat [1/2]

[helaenology]

i. lady grinning soul

sirius black/reader (no gendered pronouns, mentions of reader having 🍒)

shocking your friends, you bite the bullet and book a tattoo appointment with a new artist, turns out you have a lot more in common than thought before. or, you and tattooist!sirius bond over your shared love for David Bowie. (2.612k)

caution. modern au, tattoo needles, blood, slight nudity(?), i’ve never been tattooed before so the procedure might be inaccurate, reader is down bad for a man they just meet, pretty unprofessional work environment, crack ending. i’m new to the marauders fandom and have limited knowledge, sorry for any character inaccuracies.

IT’S exceedingly rare for you to shoot from the hip.

More often than not, the bullets stay lodged in the barrel of your metaphorical gun (in other words, your prefrontal cortex), where it’s safe and close to you.

Most of your close companions would consider you to be a level-headed individual, not the kind of person to go to when it comes to profound decisions.

Lily Evans knew this well, so it’s safe to assume that she was dumbfounded when you shared thoughts with her about your pivotal choice to get new ink.

“You’re cheating on McKinnon? She’s never going to forgive you.” She verbalised with an airy voice.

It was a joke; you weren’t cheating on Marlene—she’s done most of your tattoos, and she would forgive you. At least you think she would.

You snort at Lily’s statement, trying to focus on the tweezer in your hand and her russet-coloured eyebrows.

She sits on the small stool of her vanity, and you lean over her. It’s a position too close for comfort, but over the years you’ve known Lily, its no dilemma for either of you.

“If she hadn’t gone on that so-called platonic girls trip with that Meadowes girl, I wouldn’t have to cheat on her, and it’s not even cheating!”

The corner of Lily’s mouth had curled up at your comment on the topic, and you mirrored it. She eyes you playfully in silent agreement.

Marlene did try and write off this weekend getaway as a friendly affair between her and Dorcas, but you could see past her act effortlessly. She hadn’t been subtle, not when her eyes had lit up so brightly when she heard the doorbell ring.

Leaning back from where you were hunched over the red-headed girl, you try to assess your work done on her eyebrows.

As usual, they’re plucked to perfection. You smile and throw the tweezer aside; it clatters against the other beauty products situated on the surface of your vanity. Lily flinches at the noise and lightly punches your arm in retaliation with a shallow laugh.

“Where have you booked it? Is it local?” Lily questions, trailing after you as you walk away.

“A parlour in the city; wonder if Marl knows them.” You reply as you stride into the kitchen. Flicking on the kettle, you begin to prepare a cup of tea. Turning back to where Lily stands behind you, you shake the box of teabags in offering. She nods and moves to sit on the edge of the kitchen counter.

“Is it not like, sacrilege? What if they’re tattooist arch-enemies or something?”

“Then perhaps I’ll be the tattooed Judas.” It was a poor attempt at a joke on your part, but fortunately it lands and Lily lets out a snicker.

You ponder the thought for a moment while waiting on the kettle to boil. Is a fresh set of ink a symbol for the thirty pieces of silver? Is Marlene saintlike, and is it even worth betraying her? She’s always been a good friend, and you’d feel terrible if she actually was heartbroken over your actions.

As if she had a second sense for sniffing out negative reasoning, Lily sounds out a low whistle to gain your attention. It works, and you turn to look at her.

Her head is tilted to the left slightly, curls brushing against the countertop. She always had an unnatural ability for reading your body language like a book, now even more so. A small smile graces her features, one of tenderness she only sets aside for those closest to her—and probably stray cats.

“It’ll be fine; you can always hide it from her.” She murmurs, as if it were a secret.

“I’m getting it done on my ribs.”

Lily grimaces, and you don’t know if it’s out of the idea of the pain or how quickly her secretive plan was soiled.

A bell chime makes a racket when you open the front door of the tattoo parlour.

You wince at the noise and slowly close the door behind you. Inside the shop is an interior similar to what you had already imagined.

Tawny-coloured bricks line the back wall; it reminds you of Lily’s hair.

Framed pictures of artworks and musicians decorate the brickwork; you take note of the recurring portraits of your favourite classic rock stars, maybe this place won’t be too bad; maybe you were stressing for nothing.

There are five sets of tattoo stations, with one of them being occupied. A burly man lies against the leather of the chair as another, much slimmer man has a tattoo gun to his bicep. The man has deeply contorted facial features, most likely due to the pain.

It’s laughable, almost, seeing such a stout individual in such a situation.

You are broken out of your stupor by a figure that appears before you. Another man, with wide brown eyes hidden behind crimson-coloured glasses, stands in front of you. He has a bright-eyed look, one you recognise as the typical customer-service guise. Taking a brief moment, you admire the dark ink that lines his brown skin.

“Afternoon love, Did you have an appointment for today, or are you a walk-in?” He questioned, voice orotund to ensure you had heard him over the buzz of the tattoo gun in the corner of the room. He presses his upper body against the front desk to lean over it and grab a spiralled notebook.

You assume it’s a booking schedule, as Marlene has something similar in her flat, so you offer your name. He flips through the book before he lands on one page. He nods to himself and lets out a small noise of recognition.

“Well, it looks like you’re with Sirius today; I’ll go fetch him for you. Please make yourself comfortable.” He gestures to the small shag settee behind you before walking into a back room hidden behind a beaded curtain. You do as he says and perch yourself down on the crimson-coloured couch.

Toying at the textured fabric you sit upon, you return to admiring the decor of the shop. One poster in particular catches your eye.

A grayscale portrait of David Bowie sits behind a sky blue frame and sea foam glass. The blackened scratching of an autograph leaves you feeling a slight sense of jealousy.

A loud brush of the beaded curtains interrupts the fresh grudge you had formed on whoever it is that got a signed picture of the Goblin King.

Graced with the presence of yet another man, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the matter. Maybe you should’ve stuck with Marlene. This one’s just as pretty as the original guy you spoke to— alabaster skin and cropped jet black hair. He smiles softly when you stand to meet him halfway.

“Hi. You’re my canvas today?”

You nod, and he motions for you to follow him to a tattoo station. This man, Sirius, you recall, dons a frayed shirt with imagery of a black metal band you hardly recognise and navy blue wide leg jeans. He has two different coloured Converse shoes on; is it a fashion statement, or did he seem to displace the other half to both pairs? From what you can see when you walk behind him, his forearms are patterned with cluttered designs of tattoos.

You settle onto the tattoo bench as Sirius prepares his equipment.

He’s practically hovering over you now, eyeing the length of your body. Your face grows warm, and you pray that he can’t feel the heat. It’s clear he does though; a hint of a smile crawls up on his features. He really was quite pretty.

“Alright,” he says, “what are we doing today?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly set on a particular subject; I was hoping you might have some designs you’ve been wanting to try out.”

Sirius smiles much more softly now. He looks alluring like this. The sterile lighting would do nothing to help the beauty of others, but for some reason he looks otherworldly.

“Stunning, I can work with that.” You could too if he asked for it. “Is there a position in particular you were leaning towards?” He asks while pulling a beige Manila sleeve. You nod and gesture in the general direction of your upper rib cage. His face contorts as if he were experiencing the soon-to-come pain.

You spend the next few minutes with your head leaning awfully close to Sirius’ shoulder. Finally, you land on a particular design that you like the concept of and ask him to tweak some parts of the composition.

Having already been subjected to being a canvas for Marlene, you are already familiar with the spouts of pain experienced when being tattooed.

There are enough sweets and sugary drinks stuffed into the pocket of your bag to last you days; you can only hope that Sirius has the peace of mind to go easy on you. Spending the next several hours whining into his ear in pain seems less than charming.

“Cool. You can take your shirt off now.”

Just as you expected, he did not go easy on you. Fortunately, it had taken less than half an hour to finalise the exact location and composition of the piece. Normally, it would take yourself and Marlene several days to even figure out a basic idea. Perhaps it was the air of succour that Sirius gave off, or maybe you had just wanted to make an impression on him.

Either way, you find yourself with your back flat against the chair as Sirius holds the tattoo gun to your flesh. The pain is strong on the surface of your rib cage, and the buzz of the tattoo gun makes it feel like your ribs are rattling against one another.

Sirius has been heartwarmingly kind throughout this exchange, taking the time often to ask if you had wanted any other snacks to eat at or if you needed to take a break when he notices the contort of pain in your face. But obviously these are just standard business qualities; it’s best not to assume otherwise. The faint brush of his hand against your shin or the hushed praises under his breath are just common practices, right?

Bravely, you choose to ignore these thoughts that occupy your mind and instead focus on studying the dark lines embellished on Sirius’ forearms.

A mixture of bright and monochrome ink circulates his veins and stretch marks. It evokes an image of a summer’s breath of wind. Flower petals and leaves curling in the breeze.

A series of gentle pats against your shoulder rids you of your state of languor. He has terribly soft hands, yet callouses run deep all the same. You wonder what it would be like to hold his in your own.

“I think I’ll turn you over now. Just to make the tattooing a bit easier for you.” He began, urging you with a gentle tug on your bicep. “Is that alright, love?” You nod and string out a grumble of agreements.

He has you embraced a lot closely now that your on your side. His unoccupied hand grabs a flurry of paper towels from the dispenser behind you. He rests them and his hand between the juncture of hip and upper thigh. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume the new blush of red that he dawns on his face was derived from such proximity.

The insistent buzz of the tattoo gun continues, and you try to centre your mind on the noise. With your eyes closed, you cannot see the serpentine path formed by coffee brown eyes. As Sirius watches you, a lump forms in his throat.

It’s laughably notable that this is unprofessional, the way he’s been acting for the last several hours. Sirius is surprised that Remus hasn’t said anything to him as he types away on the front desk computer; has he even noticed? The all but necessary intimacy between the two of you was stark. If James was still clocked in, he’d be having a field day.

Your body language isn’t telling him that you’re uncomfortable, and he most definitely hasn’t pushed at any clear boundaries. He sees the way your chest rises and falls. You look content almost, which is odd given the fact that he is currently holding several needles in your skin.

Something catches Sirius’ eye, something he recognises all too well. He draws a sharp breath, and you flinch.

“Hey, we have matching tats!” He marvelled. With a flutter of blinks, you hum in question, clearly shocked by the sudden volume of his voice.

Sirius turns the tattoo gun off and moves it to the small side table to the right of you. He pulls up the fabric of his weathered shirt and points at a specific work on his lower stomach. It’s then that you make the connection and try not to redden at the reveal of his lean form, like a Victorian gentleman would at the slip of an ankle.

Nestled upon his waist is a red lightning bolt with blue shadowing. Aladdin Sane, 1973, David Bowie.

You have a matching David Bowie tattoo with one of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen.

You’re spiralling now; is the autographed photo his? Was he truly blessed with the presence of a musical genius before he passed on? You don’t know if you should break down in tears or kiss him.

The tattoo you have is much smaller and located on the side of your left breast. Normally it’s quite hard to see, hidden beneath your underclothes or your arm. It was one of your first, a drunken decision but you don’t regret it. Lily had cringed when you first showed it to her, criticising the rash, permanent commitment.

The following weekend, she did the same thing in an almost blackout haze. A set of lily flower petals rests on her shoulder.

“You a Bowie fan? What’s your top song?” The presence of Sirius once again breaks you out of your thoughts; he’s really good at that.

“Uh, probably The Prettiest Star.”

“Yeah. That’s a good one.”

The smile on his face is a coy one; you can’t help but feel left out of an untold joke. Sirius says nothing and returns to working on your skin. In your mind, you pray to whoever’s listening (hopefully Bowie) that this tattoo won’t take much longer. You are unsure of how much more you can take of this determined teasing.

Another hour passes before you’re finally done. Plastic wrapped like leftovers and a decent sum drained from your bank account. Safe to assume that leftovers are all you’ll be eating for the time being.

Sirius hands you a receipt and bids you a flirty goodbye. Breathless, you exit the parlour, though not before becoming flustered at the wink he gives you as you walk out the door.

You turn the crumpled invoice in your hand and stifle a shout of elation. A phone number, his personal one, you hope. Beside it is a scribbled sentence that reads: Text me and i’ll tell you all about my favourite songs. - S.

When you finally limp your way up the stairs to your flat, you are faced with the one thing you feared. Lily sits tense on the living room couch, with Marlene right beside her.

The red-headed girl turns to look at you with a frightened expression, she knows. You mentally brace yourself and tiptoe over to the two. Gazing meekly at the subject of your fears, her face is unreadable. Your breath turns heavy.

“So..” she starts, “You’re having an affair?”

[sbnslver]

Heaven ˚➶ ｡˚ Taehyun

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ boyfriend! Taehyun x fm!reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Summary: Who better to take care of you when your sick than your own boyfriend, well maybe if your boyfriend isn't Taehyun.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Fluff ! Warning! There is talk of pills (it's just cold medicine)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Author's note: Completely self indulgent since I have been sick for far too long. Also Over the Moon SOTY! (not proofread)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Masterlist

--

You wake up in the morning with a dull ache in your throat and the frustrating realization that you were struggling to breathe through a stuffy nose. You try to sit up, but as you move, your head begins to feel heavier, and every motion feels like it’s taking all of your effort. Every swallow makes your throat burn, and all you want to do is just burrow yourself under the covers.

The thought of getting out of bed seems nearly impossible now that the warmth of your bed is sucking you back into the land of sleep. You pull the covers up to your chin and close your eyes, hoping to sleep off the aches and feverish chill. Just as you're about to drift off, your eyes shoot open as you remember the day. You reach over to your bedside table and pick up your phone; it’s 11 a.m. You were supposed to be getting ready to go out with Taehyun. The both of you finally had a free day in your schedules, so you had planned a date. Just a picnic in the park, a way for both of you to relax and enjoy the outdoors. 

  You let out a groan of frustration. Of all the times to get sick, it just had to be now. You hold your phone in your hand, hesitating over the call button. You felt terrible about having to call Taehyun and cancel, especially since it was his idea in the first place; not only that, having to tell him you were sick was going to be a whole other mission on its own. 

Taehyun is the sweetest man on Earth; you love him with every fiber of your being. He’s kind, loving, and affectionate, and he always knows just what you need. However, he has just one minor flaw, and it’s turning into an overbearing, doting caretaker when you’re sick. It’s completely overbearing; refusing to leave your side, he insists on piling you up with blankets, spoon-feeding you endless bowls of soup, and not letting you skip a single dose of medicine. He even tries every home remedy he knows, fully determined to get you feeling better before the day ends. While you appreciate his caring nature, all you wanted to do right now was sleep in bed unbothered. 

With a sigh, you finally hit the call button, sitting up in your bed and breathing in quickly, trying to unclog your nose as much as possible and trying to sound as normal as you can. You clear your throat as you hear the sound of your lovely boyfriend on the other line. 

“Y/N? Is everything okay? We were supposed to be meeting up at 3, right?” Taehyun picks up a worried tone lacing his voice. 

"Yeah, I’m fine, Taehyun; it’s just..." You slowly drift off, hesitating to end your sentence. You let out a sigh and closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the worst. “I think I’m coming down with something. Nothing serious though, just, you know, a little cold.” You quickly add, “I think it just might be better for me to stay home. I don’t really want to get you sick.”

You hear shuffling on his end of the line and small grunts that you can only assume is Taehyun. “Baby, I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” He says hanging up the call without giving you any chance to reply.

"No, Taehyun its-” you hear the line beep. Defeated you sigh and put your phone back down on the nightstand to prepare yourself. 

–

As you're lying in bed fighting hard to keep your eyes open, you hear keys jingling from your front door, and not even ten seconds later, Taehyun is at your side, his cold hand on your warm forehead. 

“You’re not burning up yet, but just in case, lets get you bundled up, hm?” Taehyun grabs blankets from your closet piling them on top of you tucking you in tightly to your bed. 

“Baby, I can barely breathe,” you laugh watching him frantically try and tuck you in. You free one of your arms and grab him, steading him beside you preventing him from leaving to retrieve more blankets. “Tyunieee– I missed you…thank you for coming over here; you really didn’t have to though.”

“Nonsense, you really think I’d let you be here alone? Besides, I missed you too.” He beamed down at you and bent over to give you a shy kiss on your forehead. Just as quickly, he clears his throat and looks away from you, crossing his arms looking around nonchalantly. “Now anyway, back to business. I know you still have medicine here from the last time you were sick; where is it?”

You let out a giggle at his antics, “Behind the mirror in the bathroom.”

He nods curtly and makes his way over. Once he returns, his hands are full of different pills and liquids, all promoting to cure colds and fevers. “Alright, are you ready?”

“Taehyun, is this really necessary? I swear I'll be fine if I just get some rest; really, it’s not that bad.” You whine grimacing at all the medicine that he threw down on the bed. “You being here is enough.” All you get in return is a disapproving look. You sigh and pout.

Taehyun runs out of the room and returns moments later with a glass of water. He sits next to you and opens the first bottle pulling out two orange pills. He grabs your hand and places the pills in the center of your palm signaling for you to put them in your mouth. You grimace and put them in your mouth and he hands you the glass of water. You take it, fill your mouth, and altogether swallow the water and the two pills. Before you can place the water down next to you, he’s already placing a cup with purple liquid in your hand. You give him a questioning glance. 

“It’s for your throat, it should get rid of the soreness,” he explains, holding the small cup out to you.

“I thought only little kids took liquid medicine.” 

“Exactly,” he laughs, pinching your cheek.

You begrudgingly take the cup and shoot back the foul tasting liquid making a disgusted face as the flavor hits your tongue. “Ew, that's so gross no matter how many times I have it.” You look at Taehyun with a pout on your face. You raise your arms up towards him. “Cuddle me?” You ask giving him puppy dog eyes and jutting out your lower lip.

He looks at you, his face faltering for just a second before he quickly straightens up and says, “Nuh-uh, there is still more to do.” He races out of the room before you can protest. “I’m making you soup.” He yells from what you can only assume is the kitchen.

The pout on your face deepens and you let out a dramatically loud huff of air hoping that he can hear it and you cross your arms. “C’mon Taehyun just come cuddle me,” you whine “I’m feeling miserable the least you can do is cuddle with me.”

You hear footsteps getting closer to your room, anticipating Taehyun to enter You quickly turn on your side away from the door and close your eyes. You hear an exasperated sigh. “You are such a handful,” he laughs and you hear him set down the bowl of soup on the table next to you as the bed dips and you feel his hand against your forehead. “You feeling okay?”

You nod in response. “You love me though,” You smile, eyes still closed ignoring his presence.

“That I do, now c’mon sit up so you can eat.” He grabs your arms and hoists you to a sitting position moving your pillows so you have something to lean against. He grabs the bowl and lifts the spoon to your mouth. “Open up.”

You stare at the spoon and back at him, reluctantly opening your mouth allowing Taehyun to spoon feed you. “I’m not a child.”

“What are you talking about? You’re literally my baby,” he coos giggling and offering you another spoonful. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You respond, mouth full of soup.

“You can tell me to stop, you know?”

You choke on your soup. The sound of his words leaves you hurdling into a coughing fit, unable to catch your breath and your eyes watering. “What?!” You exclaim.

He pats your back soothing your coughing fit. “I just mean if it bothers you when I take care of you, just tell me to back off. I know I can probably be overbearing but I just love to take care of you,” He admits sheepishly. You notice his ears turning a light shade of  pink and you can’t help the sheepish smile that graces your lips. 

You reach for his hand and give it a small squeeze. "Taehyun, of course I love and appreciate that you take care of me and I know that it can’t be easy dealing with me being stubborn. I really do appreciate it.” You tilt your head to meet his gaze hoping he can see their warmth. “I just worry that you’ll get sick.”

“Well even if I do, I know you’ll take good care of me.” He laughs, tension dissipating from his body. Taehyun continues to spoon feed you until there is nothing left. “Well I’m going to go clean up okay?” He gets up from his spot from the bed bending down bowl in hand to give you a light kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be a right back cutie,” He winks.

“I don’t think I look very cute right now,” you're getting drowsy now, the medicine from earlier is finally working its magic. “You better come back soon mister.”

He just lets out a laugh before returning to the kitchen. You hear the sink begin to run as you imagine Taehyun is washing the dishes. As he’s gone you sink further and further under the covers, your eyelids feeling heavier as each moment passes. Not long after Taehyun returns, stopping in his tracks at your bedroom , noticing your sleeping figure. A small smile adjourns his lips as he takes light steps forward. 

He kneels down next to you and his cool hand settles against your forehead. You flinch slightly before returning back to your peaceful sleep breathing soft and even. He frowns slightly at the warmth, a pang of worry pulls at his chest, finger lingering as if his touch alone could somehow relieve you of the fever. Reluctantly he pulls his hand back and his gaze falls upon your features. He takes his hand against and lightly traces your face. Along your nose, eyelashes and eyebrows. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear eyebrows knitting them together in worry.

“Please get better soon…I hate seeing you like this,” he sighs. He gets up from the floor and moves to the other side of your bed quietly slipping in under the covers. He moves ever so slightly as to not wake you and slowly wraps his arms around your figure. Instinctively you move so that you nestle on his chest taking in his scent.

“I’m here… and I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, almost as if reassuring himself. “I’ll stay right here with you.”

Minutes pass, and he finds himself listening to the soft sounds of the night, the faint rustling of blankets as you nestle closer, his own heartbeat steadying as he holds you. He finds himself slowly drifting to sleep, his eyes growing heavy as the room fills with the warmth of your shared breaths.

Just as he’s about to fall asleep, he feels your hand shift slightly, curling into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to him even in sleep. A small smile forms on his lips, and he leans down to press another soft kiss to the top of your head, whispering, “Sleep well. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

[justme315]

Family 4/?

First part:

Previous part:

⚠️WARNING⚠️

Fear, mention of trauma, gore (in a memory!!), panic, curse words

-------------------------------

Mark sat there quietly, looking down at Lizzie, still thinking about her brother. It hurt him deeply to imagine a teen-, well barely a teen looking after his little sister all alone. Mark also had an younger sister and couldn't imagine the same scenario for himself.

James tried soft talking to Lizzie from the distance while making some food. He decided to prepare a salad, it sounded the most reasonable, since he didn't really know what Lizzie could eat - lettuce and some other light vegetables didn't sound like something that could harm the poor little girl. His head was filled with thoughts as well but he didn't want to make it obvious.

Lizzie didn't answer any of James words, as she held the plush toy tightly and raised her timid ocean blue eyes up to Mark from time to time, only to look away as soon as she cought eye contact with him.

She was really afraid of him. She liked James better.

She secretly prayed that her brother would come very soon to take her back home. Well, the humans didn't seem as bad as the stories made them look but she knew that must have been a trick! She was a big girl and she knew that she couldn't be fooled!

"Mark, please call my work and let them know I can't come today" James repeated his request to his husband.

"Oh, yeah, right" Mark mumbled as he was roused from his reverie. He stood up too quickly which triggered Lizzie and made her flinch and hug the toy elephant more tightly.

Marks eyes widden slightly and he looked down at the girl with pity.

"Sorry little one" he whispered in a soft voice. It sounded unnatural, he had such deep and masculine voice that when he tried to sound soft and gentle it just sounded so forced and.. fake.

Lizzies eyes never meet his, nor did she answer. He waited for a secound, hoping that she would acknowledge that it was okay or something but after a moment he realized that would never happen. He just looked at his husband, hoping for his support but James was too concerned on making the salad and didn't pay him much attention. It only made Marks heart sting more. The man left the room to go call his beloveds work and make up some lie about him being sick.

Lizzie held back tears as the bigger, taller, more scary looking (and sounding) man left. She didn't want the humans to see how scared she was. She was big and brave! She knew her brother would save her! Right..?

She couldn't help but let out a sob. She didn't like being anywhere without Cain. Where was he?! She was terrified of the humans and hoped that it was all a dream. Well, more likely a nightmare.

James whole body stiffen when he heard the incredibly quiet, tiniest sob. His heart shattered again. He turned around to look at Lizzie in less that a secound.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" He spoke in his usual sweet voice as he stepped closer to the table. Lizzie raised her tiny eyes filled with tears and looked up at him.

"Oh, honey.." he signed, as he sat down on the chair "It's alright, everything will be okay".

James tried to comfort her the best way he could but he had trouble doing so without wanting to reach out to her and hold her in his arms (or rather palms).

Lizzie felt so alone. So scared. So tiny. She just needed some comfort. Any comfort. Any at all.

James seemed friendly enough, she thought. He didn't seem like a monster. He was.. nice. And she needed to be comforted.

She reached her hands up like a toddler wanting to be held. She hoped James would understand the gesture.

He did.

James moved slowly, not wanting to startle her any more than she already was. His heart beat fasten as he reached down to the girl. She flinched once his hands touched her but she didn't back away. She stood still with the same gesture, obviously scared but non the less needing to be held and comforted.

The humans fingers slowly grabbed her small body and raised her up from the table. James mind was a mess, he was so scared that he would do something wrong, that Lizzie would be even more terrified, that he wouldn't be gentle enough and actually he could hurt her. It didn't change the fact of how happy he felt at that moment. He knew Lizzie was scared, he knew she thought of him and his husband as monsters and yet she trusted him enough to want to be held by him.

Lizzie tried not to let more cries out as she was raised from the table, being held tightly by fingers that were literally her size. She was scared to look down, the fear of falling growing inside of her. Her whole body trembled and she knew there was no point in hiding that - the giant must have also felt it. Her mind created scary scenerios, like from the stories Cain would tell her. She started to regret making the decision of asking to be held when-

James brought her to his chest, hugged and comforted.

"It's alright Lizzie, I've got you. You're going to be okay, I'm here" he spoke so softly that it was almost too nice sounding to be true. Lizzie remembered the same feeling, though she didn't remember where was it from. She remembered someone holding her just like that and singing her tunes. She snuggled closer into her fa- into James' chest and began to calm down. Before she knew it she was asleep.

James couldn't help but smile once he realized that Lizzie had fallen asleep on his chest. He was really happy that she trusted him enough and felt comfortable enough to let her guard down. He could have sat there, holding her for all the enternity. She was his little angel send from the heavens. She needed him. And now he was completely sure, since the first time he held her when he helped her get untangled - he needed her.

He was rushed from his thoughts when he heard Mark calling out for him.

"James! Help me!" Mark yelled form a different room just a secound after there was a bang.

"He broke the drawer again, didn't he?" James signed quietly with a tired expression. He stood up but soon realized that taking Lizzie with him would surely wake her up. He lowered her on the sofa. Once his fingers had to get away from her they felt empty. As if something, or rather someone was missing. James wouldn't have said that out loud but he started to care for the little girl way more than he should.

He left the room, going to help his husband.

Soon enough, this was Cain's chance.

The boy didn't really know what was happening outside, in the kitchen but he knew damn well that his sister was in danger. The human beans have left. This was probably his only chance at getting his baby sister back.

He rushed out from the walls and looked around, trying to spot Lizzie. As soon as he did his heart sank.

She was laying there, not moving, eyes closed on the sofa.

Cain's breath quickened, his hands trembled and his eyes widen with horror.

He immediately remembered the scene..

Little Cain and Lizzie were with their parents. They were happy.

"Take care of your little sister, while we go borrowing Cain" his father told him.

"We will be back soon" his mom said, while she hugged him.

"I will take care of her, I promise I won't dissapoint you daddy" Cain looked up at his dad with a smile. The man putted a hand on his sons head and messed his hair a little.

"That's my boy."

Hours passed. Mommy and daddy weren't coming back. Lizzie was crying from being hungry and tired. She never could fall asleep without her dada singing her tunes and without mommy's goodnight kiss.

Cain was starting to worry. Where were they? They never borrowed for such a long time. He didn't know how to handle Lizzie. He needed his parents!

Finally, when Lizzie was so tired that she fell asleep from exhaustion, Cain decided to go and check on his parents. It was still some time before sunrise, the human must have still been asleep.

Cain knew the tunnels. His daddy tough him already two times how to borrow! He was a big boy, after all. He needed the skill to help his parents.

He ran to the counter, but stopped as soon as he heard the humans voice.

"Fucking pests!" He yelled out angrily "If they weren't so damn struggling I could have sold them and now what?! I have to clean all this mess!"

Cain didn't understand what was happening. Why was the human up? What pests? There were no pests in the house. Where were his mommy and daddy? What the hell was this monster cleaning up after? WHERE WERE MOMMY AND DADDY?

The boy waited untill he heard the humans footsteps getting further away. His heart was racing, his eyes started to fill up with tears.

"Momma? Daddy?" He whispered, peaking out from the tunnel. What he had seen.. was undescribable.

The little boys eyes widen as he saw that the whole countertop was painted red. He knew that this wasn't no paint nor leftovers of some food. The countertop was stained with blood. His heart skipped a beat.

"Momma..? Daddy..? Where are you..?" He sobbed out. He thought he had already known the answer but he would have not accepted it. He had to find his parents. Lizzie needed them. He needed them.

He rushed to check if his parents were maybe hiding somewhere around the countertop. His body trembled and he almost puked once his shoes were stained with blood.

His parents were not there.

Finally, he went to the edge of the countertop. Maybe they hid on the floor? Away form.. whatever had happened there.

It was a mistake that he had looked down.

There was a giant trash bin just below him. It was filled with paper towels stained with blood. There was also..

"DADDY?!" Cain sobbed out as he was unable to hold back tears now.

"No, no, no, no, no!!" The little boy cried out as he looked at the crushed corpse of his father. The man was missing 3 of his limbs. His face was deformed. He was dead. Daddy was dead.

The scary part did not end there. Right next to the boys father there were parts of his mommy's body. It was not complete. Her head was missing. Her fucking head!! Her favourite sweater was all covered in blood and her own organs. I will spare you the terrifying and heartbreaking details.

Cain could have done nothing but puke and cry. How could that have happened?! How could they have been cought?! He needed them! They had to be alive! This had to be a nightmare! It had to be!

Looking at his daddy's, crushed, deformed, lifeless face he knew that it was all too real. That it was the humans that were responsible for.. this..

"I'm so-sorry d-daddy.. I won't d-diss-dissapoint you, I'll pro-protect Lizzie" he promised the corpse of his father, remembering their last conversation. Daddy was supposed to come back home. Mommy was supposed to come back with him.

The little boy heard the footsteps of a human reappearing into the kitchen.

"I l-lo-love you.. Goodbye m-mommy, goodbye daddy" he sobbed out the last time, looking at the devastated corpses, running away back into the tunnel.

He run as fast as he could back to Lizzie, crying, whimpering, occasionally vomiting. His shoes left red stains in the tunnel.

"I will protect Lizzie" he promised to his parents.

Cain stood there unmoving, his heart beating heavily as he started at Lizzies body, lying on the enourmous sofa. It couldn't have been too late. He needed to protect her. She had to be alright.

He rushed with his another hook onto the floor and run as fast as he could. He couldn't loose his sister. She was the only one he had left. He promised he would protect her. He fucking promised.

He was shaken. His head started to create scary scenerios as he ran. His eyes filled with tears but he couldn't loose hope.

He threw his hook onto the sofa and started climbing as fast as he could. He reached the top in no time. As soon as he did he ran to his sister.

When he saw that she was breathing a weight was lifted from his chest. He shook her to wake her up.

"Lizzie! Wake up! We need to get away from here!" He yelled out, scared that the giants could come back any moment.

Lizzie opened her eyes uncertainty and when she saw Cain she hugged him tight.

"You came!" She grabbed onto her brothers chest "I'm sorry I took your hook! I will never leave again!" She spoke.

Cain didn't have time for this nonsense now. He grabbed her onto his arms.

"Not now Lizzie. I'm not mad. Let's get outta here" he spoke to her, petting her head.

"Get on my back and hold on tight" he commanded.

As soon as James came back into the kitchen he knew something was definitely wrong. He didn't yet know what, but something was.. off.

Soon he figured out that it must have been two tiny children on a rope hanging from his sofa.

"Holy moly.." he whispered with wide open eyes. Lizzie looked at him for a second and them looked away with shame, while the bigger boy had fear and anger in his eyes. The borrowers got onto the floor before James could have had any reaction. They ran under the sofa.

Cain's heart was beating fast. That was close. They had no tunnels under the sofa. They had to get away quickly somehow! They had to get away before the humans get to them and they will spare their parents fate. He held his sister close to himself, trying not to show how frighten he actually was.

Soon enough Mark accompanied James in the kitchen door.

"Why are you standing like that? Where's Lizzie?" the bigger human asked his husband who was visibly shocked and stunned.

As Cain heard the humans voice under the sofa he looked at his sister with rage. His eyes showed her of how much he dissaproved of the humans knowing her name.

"She's.. under the sofa. With her brother, I suppose.." James answered his husband in almost a whisper, never taking his eyes away form the furniture.

"Then let's move the sofa and get them out form under it" Mark said, rushing to get closer to the sofa.

"Wait!" his partner had stopped him "Those are kids. They're hiding because they are scared. If we force them out we will only play into their fears more"

James' reasoning made Mark stop in his trucks.

"Yeah, your probably right.. So what's your plan?"

"You should go to work, I'll handle it, I promise" James kissed his husband's cheek, pointing out at the time. Mark was frustrated at the fact that he couldn't have an impact on how the story with the tiny kids continues untill 5 pm but he knew his husband was better with kids anyways.

"Love you" he said.

"I love you too" James answered.

James though for a couple of minutes before sitting down at the floor, still leaving plenty of space between himself and the sofa.

"Lizzie? Are you alright?" was his first question. He spoke in his soft voice, hoping that Lizzie trusted him enough to.. come back to him. Or at least answer.

Cain listened carefully to all the humans words before, but emotions blurred most of them out. He held his sister close as they stood next to the wall, hiding. He was still mad that the humans knew his sister's name. Once he realized that one of them left he signed with a little bit of relief. It was easier to get away from one human rather than two, but it still was a unfair fight.

As he heard the human speak directly to Lizzie his blood boiled. The human was cruel enough to joke about caring about the little girls well being. As if he wasn't a freaking monster.

Cain gestured to his sister that she can not answer.

James sat there quietly for a moment, knowing that it would be a hard day for him.

Winning childrens trust is a unfair battle.

"It'll be a long day" James signed.

---------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading and waiting for this part! After over a year, you get the promised update. I hope you enjoyed it and can't wait for the future parts!! Love ya 💙 (especially those who really waited for this for a long time (sorry for that))

[zanethegayboii]

Pt.1:

*ੈ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"Relaxation"

A Stanford Pines x FtM!Reader one shot +18

Pt.2

*ੈ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

After talking more about your day, you two had finished eating. “Oh! I had almost forgotten!” Ford stands up from the table taking your plate and heads to the fridge. “I hope you like ice cream cake!” He turns around grinning ear to ear with a small ice cream cake that has the words ‘Relax’ on top.

“Oh my goodness, Ford!” You almost yell out while laughing at the surprise. “I will take that as a yes.” He puffs his chest out in pride. He takes the cake to the counter and cuts two pieces out of it. Placing them on a plate, you grab two forks from the drawer next to the fridge.

Ford starts to walk out of the kitchen with the plate. “Hey! Where are you going? Table’s over here?” You asked him curious. “O-Oh! Sorry I should've said something! There is a meteor shower tonight!” He gestures to the gift shop door.

“Oh yeah! I remember now you've talked about that all week. I can't believe I forgot!” You rub your neck in embarrassment and walk towards the gift shop door with Ford. He speeds up to properly open the door for you to go first.

“Little gentleman~” You wink at him, praising his actions. Ford's eyes go a bit wide at the praise and his cheeks flush a bit as you walk through the door. He follows right behind you and takes a seat on the musty, mildew ridden couch that sat on the porch.

You plopped down next to Ford making him bounce up a bit from the sudden movement. “Heh! It's so nice out tonight! I thought it was gonna be cloudy.” You cuddled up next to Ford as he unbuttoned a button from his suit to be able to sit a bit more comfortably.

“I thought so as well, I’m glad it cleared up!” He seemed to beam excitement and anxiousness as you two waited for the celestial event to start.

As you two start to dig into the cakes you see a glimpse of the meteor shower before Ford points and exclaims “It's starting!” He's staring off into the night sky; eyes widened with awe. It’s beautiful.

You look back down to see Ford staring back at you, his face lights up and he smiles. He's beautiful you think to yourself. You take your hand that had previously been wrapped around Ford's shoulder and brought it to his face.

You rub your thumb into his cheek; feeling the slight stubble on his face. It's soft and prickly at the same time. Smiling back, you bring your face closer to his. “It's beautiful, but not as beautiful as you are, Stanford Pines~” Your lips meet.

Ford hums into the kiss, his lips relaxed and he lets out a relaxed sigh. Melting into the kiss it felt so comfortable, so easy to kiss him. Almost like breathing, which you forgot how to do as you were kissing him.

Breaking the kiss your breath is heavy and you rest your forehead on Ford's. “Wow.. heh” Ford breathes heavily as he speaks. You look back at him, his eyes full of admiration and a hint of desire. “I love you, Stanford.”

Something switched in Ford's brain after you stated you loved him. He takes the fork out of your other hand and sets the plate and utensils down on the couch. Ford then takes your hand and lifts you to stand up, he then reaches around to your legs.

He picks you up with a huff, his back begins to ache from the weight of carrying another human being, but he is determined. “F-Ford what are you-?!” You stammer not expecting this 60 year old man to just pick you up like he did.

“I'm taking you to my lab.” His voice was low and a bit gruff. “For what?! I thought we were watching the meteor shower?” As you squirm, Ford has a smug grin on his face. “You'll see, Love~” For some reason that simple statement made your face really hot.

(pt.3 will be more 18+, so be prepared :3)

[dandadangy]

Jiji was nervous, but at the same time he was confident. he was waiting for you on the rooftop, hiding a huge bouquet of roses behind his back, as well as a box of chocolates and some handmade gifts. he had asked you to come here at 12, after your class. you made your way up here, a bit nervous. it was unusual for him to ask you to come alone, as you usually were with your group. when you arrived on the rooftop, the wind gently blowing on you, he was waiting here, in the middle of it.

"Hi lovely.." he said with a sweet smile, looking you up and down quickly. when you came up in front of him, having to raise your gaze to meet his own, he stopped hiding what he had prepared for you. he handed you all the gifts, a dorky smile on his face as he watched for your reaction. you couldn’t help but be taken aback, not immediately realizing what it meant. but he didn’t loose more time, grabbing your hand with his free one.

"You know, I’ve been thinking about this for a while.. and I’ve been thinking about you a lot.. would you.. want to be my girlfriend?" he blurted out, his eyes searching for a specific emotion in your own. you stayed there, still, for some seconds, before stuttering some sort of sounds out. took you some more moments to make understandable words, and gently grab the bouquet.

"J-Jiji.. I.. S-Sure!.." you answered. he immediately smirked while letting out the breath he had been holding. he was confident you’d say yes, but he was still a bit nervous. he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, walking towards the exit.

"Let’s go back with the others lovely, they’re probably waiting for us." he said as he planted a kiss on the top of your head, his proud smirk still plastered on his blushing face.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Curtis Everett

Summary: Curtis decides to take the next step and ask if you're willing to meet offline.

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Meeting someone from online, Mentions of past bad experiences. Please let me know if I missed any.

Previous

Series Masterlist

"So, what all has been going on with your computer? Did you bring it with you?" Curtis tries to keep his tone calm. He's been eager to meet you in person for months but has worked hard to make sure you feel safe to do so and that means not pushing you into it. He tries to keep his excited fidgeting to a minimum but he's worried it just makes him look even more suspicious. He's so used to keeping his features schooled into a scowl, but that's the last thing he wants to do to you.

"Basically it'll go for a while but then start freezing, stuttering and I have to force it to shut down before I can do anything else," you answer while sipping your coffee. You can't believe his eyes are as blue as the photo he sent. "I tried to see if it was because I was running some heavy duty games and maybe I was using too much RAM. I cleaned up so many programs, uninstalled a bunch of games I don't play anymore, but it just keeps happening."

Curtis rubs his beard as he thinks. "It might be a hardware issue. It's not my strong suit, but I can still take a look. At the very least I can ask my buddy, Mace, for help. He's a whiz with the hardware and could probably get you a good deal if any upgrades are needed."

"Oh yeah, you've talked about him before," you reassure yourself. Having him mention another stranger worried you but Mace has been brought up several times before, especially when Curtis mentioned getting upgraded tech.

"You definitely don't have to meet him," Curtis affirms. "He can be a real grump. And coming from me, that's saying something." He gives a light chuckle as he sips his coffee.

"Snow, I work at a hospital," you counter. "Ain't no kind of grump I haven't had to deal with before." You give Curtis a look that says 'I'm stronger than you'.

Curtis smiles fully, "absolutely fair, Heart." He struggles a little bit to not turn shy. That look, that strength, that self-assured smile has him weak in the knees. "Still," he coughs, trying to regain control of himself. "Still, uh, when...did you bring the computer with you? Would this be an okay time to take a look at it?"

"Friend of mine at the library is keeping an eye on it for me." Best to let him know you've got allies nearby. He hasn't really given anything to make you worry about, but his reactions to your safety protocols could be telling. Of course, if you were expecting him to look scared or upset at this news, Curtis happily defied those expectations as his eyes lit up.

"Oh, that's really smart! We can borrow one of their laptops to run some tests. That way my laptop's settings won't mess with your computer."

You smile, genuinely, for the first time all day. Curtis is very different and you couldn't be happier about it.

"Don't you need your diagnostic software?"

"If it's called for, sure. The basic versions are free to download and they'll help me pick up if it's actually a software issue. Plus, the libraries regularly wipe downloads after use, right?"

"Okay, everything's plugged in so let's get this running and see what happens."

After looking over the hardware Curtis had found no obvious reasons for the failure so you had gone to your friend and loaned out one of the laptops. Curtis's computer bag had an impressive collection of tools, wires and connectors. You always appreciate when a person is prepared.

He works in relative silence and it gives you the chance to really look at him. He's definitely handsome, as Cassandra pointed out when she loaned you laptop. You weren't normally one for lip piercings but it seemed to work well on him, even though it was partially hidden by his beard.

The quiet between you two isn't so uncomfortable. It's how you spent a lot of time when you started gaming together. Talking over comms almost always resulted in a bunch of idiots either hitting on you, calling you a 'fake gamer,' lobbing insults at you, or all three at the same time. Snowpiercer was one of the few gamers who didn't care that you were a girl gamer. For him it was about how well you worked together. Given that the two of you could get high scores without having to talk over comms, it was no wonder the two of you started playing together more and more.

Even after you'd started voice chatting while playing, there was always a level of respect. Something you hadn't gotten from Chase.

Curtis gets out of the chair and gets a closer look at each of the fans, stopping at the one closest to the heat sink. "There it is," he intones. "This fan is dying. It's easy to miss because, by the time you know something's wrong, the whole computer's shut down and all the fans are stopped."

"Well, at least it's an easy fix," you comment. "Thanks for taking a look at it."

"Not a problem at all," he assures. "I'm happy to help."

You smile, "are you always this nice?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Definitely not. I'm not an ass, but I'm definitely not this nice to everyone."

"I'm honored."

He chuckles at that. "Like I said, I'm happy to help you out. You're the best teammate I've ever had and it just isn't as fun paying without you."

"I appreciate that, Curtis. So, what do I owe you?"

"Nothing."

"Don't do that to me, Snow. You know how I feel about owing people." It was a wound from Chase that had yet to heal. His use of favors as manipulation made you wary of anyone who said you don't owe anything.

Curtis sighs and nods. "Tell you what, there are some pastries at that coffee shop we were at that I avoided because I didn't want you to see me covered in crumbs. Wouldn't make for a good first impression." You smile at the thought. "Just get me a couple of those while I shut everything down here and return the laptop?"

"Deal." You stand to get moving but turn to him before you leave, "and thank you, again. Not just for the computer fix, but for...for respecting the boundaries."

He looks at you with those gorgeous blue eyes, "not a problem."

Next

Series Masterlist

Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @peyton-warren @ronearoundblindly; @stellar-solar-flare

[cyarikaplease]

imagineeeee consummating your marriage with din

smut under the cut ↓ ↓ ↓

“Din Djarin, repeat after me,” the Amorer says, “Mhi solus tome. Mhi solus dar’tome. Mhi me’dinui an. Mhi ba’juri verde.”

You watch as your sweet, nervous Mandalorian grabs your hands, trembling a little. For Mandalorians, weddings are usually no big deal. They’re very casual about it, no extra frills. You’re literally standing in front of the forge, the Armorer in between you two. It’s all so informal, no hoards of people watching you profess your undying love for one another.

And yet, Din’s hands still shake like a leaf in a rainstorm as he repeats the vows to you. He’s nervous because this is not just anyone he’s marrying. He’s marrying you, someone who makes him feel complete, desired, and seen, even under all the beskar. He never thought he’d be the type of guy to get married until you came along, understanding his needs and his wants. You’re so patient with him, understanding of all his customs and traditions. Even when he told you he couldn’t have sex until he married you, you waited. When he told you he couldn’t show you his face until you were married, you waited. Even when your friends on Nevarro told you you were crazy for agreeing to this, you just ignored them. And right there that’s when Din knew you were the one for him.

You smile at him, a soft smile reassuring him that there’s nothing to be nervous about. The Armorer asks you to repeat the vows and you do, squeezing Din’s hands a little tighter.

“And now I pronounce you two as riduurs. Let the festivities begin!” the Armorer says, leading you and Din to the rest of the Mandalorians. A loud cheer erupts from the crowd as you and Din stand side by side, officially riduurs now. A mixture of smiling faces and visors of helmets stare back at you. It’s a stark contrast from the intimate ceremony you just had moments ago. You’re excited to celebrate but you also just want quality time alone with your riduur.

And so you mentally prepare yourself for the many congratulations you’re about to receive, but also… probing questions. Such as…

Are you two going to… do it tonight?

Well, the answer is yes. It’s weird that people would ask you that. However, Mandalorians are very open and nonchalant about these types of topics.

Regardless, you’re excited to see your riduur’s face and have sex with him, two firsts in the same night. Your stomach is swirling with excitement, anxious to see what he looks like; what he feels like.

You can tell he’s getting a little antsy, anxious even, by the way, he clings to your side. His hand graces the small on your back, a sign he’s ready to go. He’s not one for grand public displays of affection. You look at him and his visor meets your gaze, trying to imagine what expression he’s wearing under there. You imagine his eyes are pleading with yours, trying to tell you to get out here and spend some alone time together.

You take the hint, starting to bid your goodbyes to the others. A few of them who aren’t wearing their helmets shoot you suggestive smirks and a few eyebrow raises, insinuating what’s about to happen the second you’re alone. Regardless of the sex or the helmet coming off, you’re just excited to be alone with him in general, something that’s so rare for you two lately, especially with Grogu around. But Bo-Katan has offered to watch him for the night, saying something about how the newlyweds need time to be just that, newlyweds.

With that, you bid your last goodbye to the party and head to your and Din’s house; a simple one made of stone. The Mandalorians constructed a small village once they got settled in. You’re just excited you don’t have to sleep in the cramped cot of the Razor Crest.

You burst through the door and head to your bedroom. He follows you in, standing in front of you silently and awkwardly. He’s so nervous. You can tell by his body language. You close the gap in between you two, grabbing his hand and wrapping your other arm around him.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” you reassure him.

“I know, I just…”

“What is it?”

“Can I keep the helmet on?”

Oh. You can’t lie, your stomach just sank a little.

“Of course. I never want you to do something you’re uncomfortable with.”

“I’m just worried you’ll hate the way I look.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Well regardless of how you look, regardless if you want to keep the helmet on, I love you.”

“Thank you,” he says, letting go of your hand to caress your cheek, “But I still want to do the other stuff.”

“Oh yeah?” you say suggestively, your mouth curving into a smirk.

“Yes, I do,” he says, his hand trailing down to your ass, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this? How much I thought about you underneath me?”

For a virgin, his dirty talk is damn good. You feel your cheeks heat up and your knees buckle. If he keeps talking like this in that low, sultry tone you’re going to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“Show me,” you tease, taking off your clothes one by one.

He pushes you down on the bed, pulling off his gloves and tossing them on the floor. He takes off his cape but he can’t be bothered to take off anything else. He’s too eager to explore your body and find out what makes you squirm. He kneels down beside you on the bed, pulling your legs apart and trailing two fingers up and down your cunt.

“So wet for me,” he coos.

“For my riduur,” you add.

He brings his fingers to your mouth, coaxing it open. You moisten them, prepping them to be inserted inside you. You wonder where he got this idea from and you figure that… he probably watched porn to prepare. The thought gives you the urge to giggle but you resist, not wanting him to feel bad.

He slides a finger in your cunt and you wish you could see the reaction on his face when he feels just how warm and wet you are.

“You’re so…”

“Wet?” you chuckle.

“Yeah, how-”

“I’ve wanted this for a long time, Din.”

“Really?” he says, his visor not leaving his finger in your cunt.

“I married you, didn’t I?” you chuckle again.

A sharp gasp cuts you off. He slides another finger in without warning. That bastard. But it feels so good. He curls them against your walls, pressing them up against your g-spot. You weren’t expecting to be at the edge so fast. Your walls tense up around his fingers in anticipation of release. And with one last come here motion of his fingers, you’re coming, cunt clenching and unclenching erratically.

“Did you just-”

“Yeah,” you respond, blissed out and a little breathless.

He pulls his hand from your cunt, looking at the mess you made on his fingers, holding them up in front of his helmet.

“Wow,” he says softly, admiring the slickness in between his fingers.

He just has to have you already. He takes his already hard cock out of his flight suit, pre-cum gathered at the head and gives it a few strokes. You’ve never seen his cock before so you rest on your elbows, propping yourself up a bit to get a good look. He’s intimidatingly large and it’s almost a crime he kept it locked up all the time. You spread your legs apart even farther to accommodate how broad he is.

“You ready, riduur?” he asks, moving to situate himself between your thighs.

He thrusts into you, feeling his cock split you open. And at first, he stays still for a moment, taking the time to feel you, to appreciate this.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” he says, just as he begins thrusting in and out of you.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” you repeat, your voice jumping an octave.

He leans down so he’s face to face with you, resting his elbows on either side of your head. This is all you’ve ever wanted, on your back with Din inside you, exploring your walls. Even if he won’t remove his helmet just yet you’re still ecstatic that you’re together.

But then something happens…

He cums. Before you did. It was bound to happen though. Losing your virginity isn’t some magical moment like people make it out to be. His warm release spills inside you and he’s silent.

“Din?” you ask. He’s still inside you, completely frozen, and his visor not meeting your face.

“...Din?” you ask again, “Say something. Please.”

“I… finished,” he says, his cock softening inside you.

He pulls out and lies down beside you on the bed. He’s as stiff as a board, arms rigid and resting at his side.

“I know, but it’s okay,” you say, rolling on your side and placing a hand on his chest.

“It’s not. You didn’t cum,” he says, his voice stiff and robotic almost, like he’s trying to mask how he feels.

“It was your first time. It was bound to happen,” you reassure him.

He falls silent again so you take it upon yourself to straddle him, resting your hands on his chest.

You bring your hands to the edge of his helmet, pausing to ask, “May I?”

“Yes,” he says softly.

You lift his helmet off his head to reveal his face, brown eyes filled with worry, brows furrowed, curls matted by the helmet, and a slight pout to his lips… his lips. You lean forward and kiss him, hands caressing either side of his face, and your thumbs brushing his facial hair.

“We can always go again,” you say, pulling back and looking deep into his eyes.

“I know… I just thought it would be different.”

“Can I suggest something?”

“What’s that?”

“What about taking off the armor? You know… get naked with me. It might help.”

“Okay,” he says, with a shaky breath. You move off of him, letting him stand up to take everything off. He removes each piece meticulously, setting them in a neat pile on the floor before taking off his boots and his flight suit. You watch as he does so, taking in his completely bare form. Scars, freckles, tattoos– all gracing his skin perfectly. Thick, black tribal-style lines encircle his forearms up to his biceps, some of the ink disrupted by scars. He has a tattoo of the mythosaur signet on his left pectoral, some of the ink faded and blown out with time. Somehow you knew he wasn’t bare under all that armor. To put it simply, he’s beautiful, everything about him is. Your eyes move down to his cock, already hard and sticking straight out again.

“Let me try something, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, still very nervous.

“Lie down for me,” you say, scooching over for him.

He lies down on the bed and you move to straddle him again. But instead of sinking down onto his cock, you mark his body with your mouth, nipping and biting at his skin. He shudders at the contact of your teeth on his skin as you move across his body, starting at his groin and working your way upwards. As you scooch forward, your cunt rests on his cock, the head just grazing your wetness. He lets out a small whimper at the teasing touch, prompting you to poke your head up from the mark you’re leaving on his chest.

“Be patient,” you giggle.

“But what’s all this for?” he pants.

“Just showing you how much I adore you.”

“R-Really?” he says. Poor thing is so nervous, so sweet.

“Mhm. You’re beautiful, Din. This couldn’t have worked out better for me,” you say, before returning your mouth to his skin.

He groans at the feeling of you biting, licking, and kissing his skin, moving from his chest to his collarbone. His breath hitches as you inch your way closer to his neck, eliciting a deep moan from him when your teeth graze a certain spot. That must be the spot. The spot that makes him melt into putty in your hands.

“Cyar’ika, please,” he whines.

“What’s that?” you ask teasingly.

“I’m ready again,” he whimpers.

“Okay, okay. You’ve been patient,” you chuckle, moving so you’re resting directly over his cock. You lower yourself down onto him, taking his full length inside you in one swift motion. You rest your hands on his chest as you rock your hips back and forth, feeling his cock etch itself deeper and deeper in your cunt.

“You feel so good, riduur, so wet,” he moans, hands moving to squeeze your waist.

“You feel so good, too, Din– Ah!” you say, the pitch of your voice getting higher as his cock hits that spot inside you.

His hands squeeze your waist even harder, blissed out while he’s encapsulated by your warmth; your wetness.

“Din, I’m gonna cum,” you moan, grinding yourself even harder against him.

“Yeah??” he asks excitedly.

You don’t even get to answer, your orgasm interrupting you. Your walls flutter around his cock and the look on Din’s face when he realizes his cock made you cum. Pleasure erupts from your core and spreads outwards, stars dancing in your vision. Your orgasm triggers his and you’re filled with the feeling of his cum spilling inside you once again. Except this orgasm is different for him. It’s louder, more intense, more visceral. His body glistens with sweat while he repeatedly blinks, coming down from his high. You feel him go soft inside you and pull yourself off of him, resting your head on his chest.

“Thanks for being patient with me,” he says after a moment of silence.

“Anything for you, riduur,” you say, smirking at the last word.

“What?” he chuckles, “You are my riduur.”

“It still doesn’t feel real, I suppose,” you say, inching closer to kiss him.

“I guess it doesn’t. I don’t want to ever get used to it, though.”

“Me neither,” you respond, resting back down on his chest.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” he whispers.

You repeat the phrase back to him, entangled in the arms of your riduur, falling asleep peacefully.