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lovesculprit · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 11 - Virginity Loss with Kento Nanami

contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, pnv (protected), loss of virginity, oral (reader receiving), fingering, age gap (legal - reader is college age), soft nanami

˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 10k (bear with me here, it’s slow)

a/n: i apologise in advance for how soft this is, it is sickeningly sweet and a heads up, the writing style of this is a little different to some of the prior ones i've posted here...it's less horny smut in the way its written and more wordy? so if this one's not for you, it's all good, sometimes i just like to mix it up <333

The cool October air nipped at your bare skin as you stood out front of the crowded house, your angel wings from your costume rustling softly in the breeze. The party was fun, but it was getting late, and getting home was an issue.

The problem was, you couldn't call your dad. He'd have too many questions, too many concerns about why you were out so late. Besides, the revealing nature of your outfit wouldn't have gone unnoticed, and you weren't in the mood to listen to a lecture.

Your phone hovered in your hand, a name already highlighted. Nanami Kento. Your dad's best friend, a reliable, quiet man you'd known for a couple years. He was the safest option honestly and maybe a part of you was pleased with the notion of calling him, of seeing him after the night's festivities. There had always been something about the way Nanami carried himself-so composed, so controlled, it left you curious.

You took one deep breath before pressing the call button. It rang only twice before his smooth steady voice came through the line. "Are you alright?" he asked instantly, as though he'd sensed something was wrong, just from seeing your number at this time.

"I'm fine," you quickly assured him. "It's just. I'm at a party, and it's gotten late. I need a ride, and I really can't call my dad soo….”

There was a moment of silence, stretching the pause to its limits as he finally replied. "Text me the address. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Waiting around for fifteen minutes in the cold had your mind racing. All you could do was hope he wouldn't say too much about your outfit, a white dress a little too short, with wings fastened to your back and a halo precariously balanced on your head. It had drawn enough attention at the party already, though you'd shrugged it off with nervous laughter. Nanami was an altogether different story, though, and the thought of him looking at you like this made you feel nervous.

Sure enough, in exactly fifteen minutes, Nanami's black car pulled up in front of the house. You quickly headed towards it, heels clicking across the pavement. As soon as you opened the passenger door and slid inside, his eyes raked over you.

"Thanks for picking me up," you said softly, trying not to meet his gaze as you buckled yourself in.

But Nanami's silence was heavy, and you could almost feel the weight of his stare. He didn't say anything right away, eyes staying fixed on your outfit-the dress riding high on your thighs, the soft glow of your wings innocent. His jaw tightened slightly, a barely perceptible movement, but you noticed it.

"Of course," he finally replied, his voice gruffer than usual, with an edge to it. "But that's quite the costume."

You felt shy under his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "It's just a Halloween costume. You know, harmless fun."

"Harmless fun," he repeated, his eyes darting back to the road as he shifted the car into drive. But the way he said it-twisted something in your stomach, a tension building between you impossible to ignore.

Nanami didn't look away from the road, but his thoughts were far from innocent. He knew he shouldn't be looking at you like this, his best friend's daughter, in a dress that didn't leave much to his imagination. Yet, there was something outright magnetic in the way you looked tonight-the way soft fabric clung to your body, pure white of an angel costume contrasting sharply with the rising inferno inside him.

He gripped the wheel a little harder, his knuckles white. What was wrong with him? You were innocent, too young for him- but the way you moved, the way you shifted in your seat as if aware of how you were making him feel, it stirred something primal in him.

"Did you have fun?" he asked way too calmly, trying to distract himself.

You nodded. "Yeah, it was good. Just got too late, and well, you know."

He couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing along the smooth skin of your legs and then up to your face, lit up in a soft glow from the passing streetlights. He tried to keep a clear head, act like he wasn’t losing his mind over being this close in proximity to you. It didn't help that the scent of your perfume lingered in the air between you, sweet and inviting.

"Your dad doesn't know you're dressed like this," he said-half a question, half a statement of fact.

You shook your head. "No… he wouldn't exactly approve." There was a little, nervous laugh in your voice.

Nanami grunted in response. "He wouldn't."

The tension between you both grew thicker, heavy with unspoken emotion until it was almost palpable in the cramped interior of the car. Nanami couldn't clear his head. What would your father think if he knew how hard it was for Nanami to keep his thoughts pure? How hard it was to pretend the sight of you, in that tight little dress, hadn't set something off inside him?

You shifted in your seat again, the hem of your dress rose just a little higher on your thighs to catch Nanami's attention yet again as he had to adjust in his seat.

The car hummed on silently, but it was obvious that he was trying to keep his cool, trying to ignore the pull between you both, and for some reason, you decided not to make it easy for him.

You shifted a bit in your seat, letting your legs cross; the hem of your skirt inched up just a bit more. You caught the slightest tensing of Nanami's jaw out of the corner of your eye, though he kept his gaze firmly trained on the road.

You bit your lip to suppress a smile. "You know," you said softly, a teasing edge creeping into your tone, "I've never seen you this quiet. You always seem so assured."

Nanami's brow furrowed and he let out a short breath. "It's late," he replied; the words were clipped, strained as if he wanted to force the conversation into something normal.

You weren't buying it. His body language betrayed him-tension in the posture of his body spoke volumes his words never did. You knew with just a little more prodding-a test of the waters-he'd crack.

You lifted a casual hand to your head to adjust your halo headband, your fingers delving through your hair to do so, before you laid your hand on your thigh, letting the fingers linger as you shifted again, angling yourself slightly toward him.

"Thanks for picking me up," you said, your voice soft and laced with something a little too sweet, a little too insinuating. "I guess I could've called someone else, but… I wanted you to be the one."

Nanami's hold on the wheel stiffened further, and you could almost hear the battle raging inside him. His eyes flickered sideways to you, only for a moment, before snapping back to the road.

“Really?" he growled, almost inaudible, the tone low, a little threatening.

You nodded, biting your lip as you leaned closer, your hand lightly brushing his arm as you adjusted once more. "Yeah… I feel safe with you.”

There it was, the first gap in his well-considered armour. He said nothing for a moment. It was as if every unspoken word weighed the air inside the car down and pressed on both of you with its unspoken weight.

Then, wordlessly, instead of turning down the street that would lead to your house, he turned left and went in the opposite direction. You blinked once or twice, peering out of the window just to confirm that he wasn't actually getting onto your usual route.

"Um. my house is the other way," you said light, though curious.

Nanami remained silent for another beat as the car sped through the quiet, dimly lit streets. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice rougher than before.

"I know."

Your heart skipped a beat, and a shiver ran down your spine at the implication: He knew. He knew exactly what he was doing. And instead of taking you home, he was detouring off course on purpose. A decision he had made despite the battle that had raged in his brain.

"Where are we going?" you asked, though the answer was just starting to formulate in your mind.

"My place." Nanami replied in a low voice, very nearly too calm.

Of course his words only had one meaning, and you paused for a second, the situation settling into your consciousness. It wasn't a decision he had only just now considered. He had thought about this, about you—and the barrier he'd held up for so long was starting to crack.

A part of you knew this might have crossed the line, a line neither of you could come back from. In the silence of the car, though, that pull between you became impossible to ignore.

You swallowed as your heart raced in your chest, shifting slightly in your seat as his words sank in. "Your place… are you sure?"

Nanami's grip on the steering wheel loosened, but only for a moment as he let a slow, conscious breath escape. He cast a look in your direction then, something dark in his gaze-a warning, and yet, something deeper, something feral. "No," he admitted in a low voice with a trace of growl. "But I'm doing it anyway."

His place. He was taking you there, and implications that sent your tummy fluttering into somersaults of excitement and uncertainty when he said so. There was no going back once you crossed this threshold.

The time quickly passed and it wasn’t long before the soft hum of the engine stopped, and all that could be heard was your quickened breathing.

Nanami turned to you; his eyes locked with yours. In them was an unspoken question. He wasn't forcing you; this was something you had to step into on your own volition.

You nodded at him and he nodded slightly in return before moving to open the car door for you. His hand was soft and warm in yours as he guided you out. He took you inside and towards the lift. The silence between you was evident, but not uncomfortable. It was charged, alive with possibilities neither of you could deny any more.

As the lift opened onto his floor, Nanami escorted you down the silent hall to his apartment. His steps were sure, steady, but you could feel the tension emanating off of him like a coiled spring ready to snap. He hastily unlocked the door before gesturing you inside.

You stepped inside and the door clicked shut behind you, sealing the two of you into the quiet, dimly lit space. Nanami's apartment was sleek, minimalist, much like the man himself-clean lines, understated elegance. It was intimate, private, and the thought of being alone with him here made your skin tingle.

You turned toward him, soft light from the city filtering in through the windows and casting shadows across his face. He watched you once more, his eyes dark and intense. A silent war inside himself as he struggled to keep his restraint.

"You can still change your mind," he said, low and rough. "Sleep in the spare bedroom- and I won't push this any further."

Your eyes ran across his face, before meeting his gaze. Hal of you screamed to close the distance between the two of you, whilst the other half screamed to sleep in the spare bedroom and never look back on this moment.

But this wasn't about lust or desire; this was crossing a line, changing the dynamic between you both forever, but one you were ready to.

You leaned in towards him, your fingers brushing lightly against his chest. You took note of the quick rise and fall of his chest and the fast beating of his heart under your fingertips. His eyes darkened, his control slipping just that little bit more as he watched you.

"I'm not changing my mind," you whispered softly, resolutely. "I want this."

Nanami exhaled sharply, the last thread of restraint snapping as he closed the remaining distance between you. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch just as gentle as you’d expected.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin, as if giving you one final chance to pull away.

But you didn’t.

With a low growl, Nanami's lips finally crashed into yours. He kissed you passionately as if he had been holding back far too long. His hand slid around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as he pressed your body flush against his, trying to get as physically close to you as possible.

The kiss deepened, and all the tension and desire that had built between you finally exploded in a rush of heat and sensation. You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you succumbed to the moment, to him.

One of his hands had clutched your waist as he leaned you up against the wall, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth. It was quickly heating up; everything was going so fast. And though you'd expected it, you suddenly became nervous, not knowing what to do, so you couldn't help but blurt out…

“I’m a virgin-”

Nanami froze when you uttered those words, the revelation hanging in the air like a weight that neither of you could ignore. His lips lingered on yours, but the urgency that had driven his actions moments before seemed to vanish, replaced by a sudden stillness. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression torn, conflicted. You could feel the way his chest rose and fell unevenly, the tension coiling tighter inside him.

He should stop. He knows that.

"You're a virgin," he repeated softly, as if trying to ground himself in the reality of the situation. The responsibility of what this meant sank in, his protective instincts roaring louder than his desire. The weight of his role in your life—being your father's best friend, older, more experienced—should have been enough to make him back away, to put distance between you for your own good.

But it didn’t.

Despite everything, despite knowing he should be the responsible one and walk away, the pull he felt toward you was undeniable. His thumb gently traced the outline of your jaw, the conflict clear in his eyes as they searched yours. There was something about you—your trust, your innocence—that stirred something deep inside him, something he couldn’t easily shake off.

"I shouldn't.," he growled low and hoarse, yet with an edge, a residual hunger he could not hide. He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled sharply as if trying to draw himself back in.

But when he opened them again, his gaze darkened, the tension between you flaring back to life. You saw the conflict, the war between what he knew was right and what he wanted more than anything in that moment.

"I-” Nanami continued, his hands moving to cradle your face, his touch still gentle despite the storm raging within him. "This changes everything."

You could feel the restraint, the repression, but you could also feel the resolve slipping. He was a man who prided himself on control, on doing the right thing-but right now, you were making him question all of that.

"I know it does," you whispered, stepping closer, your body brushing against his in a way that made his breath hitch. "But I trust you. I want this… I want you."

Your words seemed to cut through to him, and for a long moment, the air between you crackled with something electric, something neither of you could deny any longer.

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. "If we do this," he said quietly, his voice low, serious, "There’s no going back. I need you to be sure. This is… not something I can take lightly."

His thumb brushed against your cheek, his eyes searching yours one last time, giving you the opportunity to pull away. But you didn’t. You met his gaze, your hand resting over his heart, feeling its rapid thrum beneath your palm.

"I'm sure," you whispered, your voice steady, filled with the weight of the decision you had already made.

The last bit of tension left Nanami’s shoulders as he closed the distance between you again, his lips finding yours with a renewed intensity. But this time, his kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if savouring every moment, every taste of you. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer, but there was no rush, no urgency. He was letting you lead, letting you set the pace.

As his hands moved over your body, exploring with careful restraint, it was clear he was holding back. Despite the fire between you, despite the overwhelming desire, he was still thinking of you, still making sure you felt safe, cherished, in this moment.

Nanami’s heart raced as he led you to his bedroom, the very act feeling surreal. Every step was imbued with a sense of gravity, as though the weight of the moment hung in the air around you, thickening with anticipation and vulnerability. He was acutely aware of the fabric of your outfit, how it hugged your curves and accentuated your delicate features, your halo headband adding to the angelic aura that surrounded you. It was intoxicating, and he felt the primal urge to claim you, to make you his.

The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing against the walls as the city lights filtered in through the curtains. Nanami could hardly breathe as he turned to face you, taking in the sight of you standing there—innocent yet undeniably alluring, a vision that pulled at the very edges of his sanity. You looked like something out of a dream, and he felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. The conflict within him raged on, and yet, as he looked at you—his angel—he couldn't shake the selfish longing that consumed him. Despite knowing he didn’t deserve to indulge in this, he found himself wanting you more than anything else in that moment.

As you stood there, your gaze unwavering, your confidence shining through your innocence, it was clear you were ready to embrace whatever was to come. Nanami took a deep breath, pushing the guilt aside. He didn’t want to be the one to hold back your desires. Not when you were offering him a chance to explore this connection.

"You’re so beautiful," he breathed, stepping closer, his hands reaching out to frame your face. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if committing the moment to memory. The softness of your skin beneath his touch sent a jolt of electricity through him.

"Breathtaking," he whispered again, almost reverently. The weight of those words held true as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing against yours. The hesitation melted away, and he captured your mouth with his again, deepening the kiss with a fervour that spoke of his hunger, of his desire to claim you in every way possible.

His hands roamed over your waist, trailing down to your hips, fingers digging in slightly as he pulled you closer. There was a desperation in his touch now, a need to feel every inch of you pressed against him. He wanted to memorise the way you felt, the way your body fit perfectly against his, like you were made for him.

When he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, there was a fire in his gaze that reflected the storm within him. "Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice a low rumble, though he knew what your answer would be. Deep down, he wanted to hear it, wanted the reassurance that you were truly ready to take this step with him.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you replied, your voice steady, filled with a confidence that both excited and terrified him.

With that, Nanami leaned in again, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of his longing into it. It was both gentle and consuming, a collision of desire and tenderness that left you breathless. The world outside faded away as he lost himself in the sensation of you—the taste of your lips, the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way your hands tangled in his hair, urging him on.

As he guided you back onto the bed, he felt the weight of his own insecurities creep back in. He was an older man, your father’s best friend, someone who was supposed to protect you, not take advantage of your trust. But looking at you, lost in the moment, an angel who was willing to give herself to him, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. This was a gift, a chance to experience something beautiful with you, and he would be damned if he let that go.

There was a sense of awe in him as he looked at you, your innocence and trust in him making him feel both powerful and vulnerable. This was different from anything he had ever experienced before, and it left him unsure of how to proceed.

He leaned over you, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek, his touch tender and gentle. "I promise to take care of you," he whispered, his voice low and filled with the sincerity of his intent.

You smiled up at him, your trust in him shining through your eyes. "I know," you replied, your voice soft and confident.

Nanami's breath hitched as he took in the sight of you lying beneath him, the white dress clinging to you. The fabric seemed to glow in the dim light of the room, accentuating your delicate features and the innocence that radiated from you. His heart swelled with a mix of desire and reverence, knowing that he was about to experience something truly special.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck, trailing soft kisses along your jawline, down to your collarbone. The taste of your skin, the subtle scent of your perfume, it all combined to create a heady sensation that made his head spin.

His hands roamed over your body, caressing you through the thin fabric of your dress, mapping out the contours of your figure. He could feel the heat of your skin beneath his touch, and it only served to fuel the fire burning within him.

"You're perfect," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "An angel, sent just for me."

You shivered at his touch, your body arching into his as you sought more of his attention. Your hands moved to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

Nanami chuckled softly, his breath warm against your neck. "Patience, sweetheart. Let me savour this moment."

He helped you with his shirt, shrugging it off and tossing it aside, revealing his toned chest and abs. The sight of his muscular form and you couldn't help but run your hands over his skin, marvelling at the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.

Nanami groaned at your exploration, his hips pressing against yours, the evidence of his desire evident in the way his erection strained against his pants, pressing deliciously against your thigh. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you.

His hands roamed over your body, caressing you. He resumed his kisses along your skin, his teeth grazing you skin ever so slightly. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, your body arching into his touch, craving more.

"I want to worship every inch of you." he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire.

His hands slid down to your thighs, bunching up the skirt of your dress, exposing more of your smooth skin. He took his time, savouring the feel of you, the way your body responded to his touch.

You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, the intensity of his desire, and it only served to fuel your own. Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles, the way his heart raced beneath your touch.

Nanami's lips found yours again, his kiss deep and passionate, pouring all of his longing into it. He rolled his hips against yours, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

"I want you," he breathed, his voice raw with need. "I want to make you mine, to claim you in every way possible."

He tugged at the fabric of your dress, his intentions clear, but something held him back. The thought of ruining the delicate garment, of marring your innocence, seemed sacrilegious.

Instead, he let his hands roam beneath it, his fingers teasing along your inner thighs, higher and higher, until he reached your panties. He could feel the heat from you, the dampness that betrayed your desire.

"Tell me you want this," he whispered, his fingers already circling your most clit through the cotton fabric. "Tell me you're ready for me."

Nanami's fingers continued to tease and explore, his touch both gentle and insistent. You could feel the pressure building within you, your body responding to his every caress, every brush of his lips against your skin. The heat between you was palpable, the air thick with the scent of your combined desire.

"I want this," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I want you, Nanami- Please, don't make me wait any longer."

His eyes darkened with hunger at your words, and he wasted no time in responding. He hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs, exposing you to his hungry gaze.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his fingers tracing the delicate folds, feeling the slickness that coated your skin. "So wet, so ready for me."

He leaned down, his breath hot against your skin, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. Slowly, teasingly, he trailed kisses up your leg, his stubble rasping against your sensitive skin, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. He couldn’t help but grin at every slight shuffle from you as he moved closer to your pussy, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy your shyness.

When he finally reached your core, he inhaled deeply, savouring the scent of your arousal. He looked up at you, his eyes locked with yours, before he leaned in and ran his tongue along your folds, tasting you for the first time.

You gasped at the sensation, your hips bucking involuntarily against his mouth. Nanami groaned in response, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you in place as he continued his exploration.

He lapped at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, before dipping lower to your entrance, tasting your essence. He alternated between licking and sucking, his movements slow and deliberate, building the tension within you with each pass of his tongue. “So fucking sweet-” he groaned.

Nanami's tongue continued its relentless assault on your most sensitive areas, licking and sucking, driving you closer to the edge with each pass. As your pleasure mounted, he slowly eased a finger into your tight heat, his touch gentle and patient.

Your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on. The pleasure was intense, building with each passing second, threatening to consume you entirely.

He worked you slowly, his finger pumping in and out, curling to hit that spot deep inside that made your toes curl. The sensation of his tongue and finger combined was almost too much to bear, and you could feel your walls beginning to flutter around him. “Such a good girl.”

He added a second finger, stretching you further, his pace increasing as he sensed your impending release. His fingers moved in tandem with his tongue, one hand working your clit while the other drove into you, stoking the fire that burned within you.

Your moans filled the room, your body writhing beneath his touch, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Nanami could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, your body tensing as you neared your peak. “Come on sweetheart, give it to me.”

As he felt your body tense beneath him, your thighs trembling, he knew you were close. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit, his fingers pumping harder, deeper, determined to bring you to the heights of ecstasy. The world narrowed down to the sensation of his mouth and hands on your body, the pleasure consuming you entirely.

Nanami’s voice was soft but commanding. “That’s it,” he murmured, his words vibrating through you as he flicked his tongue against your clit. “Let go, my angel. Give yourself to me.”

With a final thrust of his fingers, your body gave in. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body trembling beneath him as you cried out his name, lost in the intensity of the moment. He stayed with you through every pulse of pleasure, his mouth working you gently as your climax washed over you, prolonging the sensation by sucking on your clit until you could no longer take it.

As you came down from your high, your breathing ragged, Nanami slowly withdrew his fingers, placing soft kisses along your thigh before sitting up. His gaze was filled with adoration as he watched you recover, his eyes trailing over your body with reverence. “You’re beautiful when you come undone,” he said softly, his voice full of awe. “I could worship you like this for hours.”

Nanami leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, his hands cupping your face, thumbs brushing away the single tear that had escaped during your climax and he couldn’t stop his smirk, you were so sensitive and he’d barely even started. “Are you okay?” he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with care, “I want to make sure I don't push you too far.”

You nodded, overwhelmed with emotion, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes. "I just want you, Nanami," you whispered, your voice filled with longing.

His gaze softened as he reached for his belt, slowly undoing the buckle, his movements deliberate. He paused, searching your eyes for any hesitation, any uncertainty. But all he found was the same desire reflected back at him.

He smiled softly, leaning over to the bedside table and going through the drawer before retrieving a condom and some lube, ready to continue, but ensuring your comfort every step of the way.

Nanami’s hands moved with care as he opened the condom, his gaze still focused intently on you, as if each moment was something to be cherished. His heart raced, not just with the heat of desire, but with the overwhelming tenderness he felt for you. He wanted everything to be perfect—gentle, yet powerful in its intimacy.

The tension in the room was palpable, but it wasn’t just sexual. It was the weight of trust, the sacred bond forming between you as he prepared for what was to come. You felt it too, that sense of something so deeply meaningful, and it made your pulse quicken.

With the condom securely in place, Nanami applied a generous amount of lube as he soaked in the sight of your body beneath him, your silk dress still bunched around your waist. His eyes were filled with a mixture of admiration and reverence as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, full of love and passion.

“I need you to tell me if you’re okay, if anything feels wrong,” he whispered, his voice low but filled with concern. “Do you wanna’ be on top? It might be better for you.”

You felt a surge of warmth in your chest at Nanami’s question, his consideration only deepening the intimacy between you. His concern was genuine, and it made you feel cherished in a way you had never experienced before. The idea of being in control, of setting the pace, appealed to you, especially with the softness and care in his gaze.

You nodded, smiling up at him, the anticipation building in the pit of your stomach. “Yeah, I think I’d like that,” you replied softly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside of you.

Nanami’s eyes softened even further, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. With a gentle movement, he shifted positions, lying back on the bed, his strong arms helping you climb atop him. You straddled his hips, your hands resting on his chest for balance, feeling the heat of his body beneath your palms. The vulnerability of the moment didn’t make you feel exposed—it made you feel powerful, like you were in control, but still cradled in his unwavering support.

Nanami’s hands found your thighs, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your skin as he looked up at you with reverence. “Take your time,” he murmured, his voice deep and comforting. “There’s no rush.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you hovered just above his cock. You adjusted and the sensation of his hardness against your pussy sent a jolt of excitement through you, and you felt yourself growing even wetter, your body more than ready for him. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, the initial stretch making you gasp softly and you had to pause for a moment before taking a little more. Nanami’s grip on your thighs tightened just a fraction, his breath hitching in his throat as he felt you take him in, inch by inch.

You slowly took more of him in, feeling more of a stretch, a slight sting from a fullness that made your body tremble with a mixture of pleasure and anticipation. You could feel Nanami’s hands tightening their grip on your thighs, his silent encouragement pushing you forward, but never rushing you. His gaze was fixed on your face, filled with nothing but patience and reverence.

You glanced down, your eyes following the path of your own body as you straddled him, only to realise with a jolt that you weren’t fully there yet. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you noticed how much of him was still left to take. The realisation made your heart race, a mixture of awe and nervousness swirling inside you.

Nanami seemed to sense your hesitation, his hands moving from your thighs to your waist, steadying you. He lifted his head slightly, brushing a kiss against your collarbone, his warm breath soothing against your skin. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice gentle but reassuring. “You’re doing so well. Take your time. We don’t need to rush anything.”

His words grounded you, reminding you of the trust you shared, the connection that went beyond the physical. You let out a shaky breath, nodding as you slowly relaxed into him again, feeling his fingers gently massaging your waist. You could feel his restraint, the way his body tensed under yours, but he held back for you, waiting, letting you set the pace.

You lowered yourself further, feeling the stretch intensify, your body accommodating his size inch by inch. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you took him in completely, the fullness sending a wave of pleasure mixed with a slight sting through your core. You paused, breathless, your body adjusting to the sensation, the initial tightness making you shudder.

The feeling of fullness was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. A deep groan escaped Nanami’s lips, his hands now gripping your hips as he gazed up at you with pure desire, mixed with tenderness. You sat there for a moment, letting your body get used to the sensation, and Nanami’s hands continued their gentle, grounding movements on your skin.

His gaze was filled with concern and affection, watching your every reaction carefully, ensuring that you were okay. He let out a low groan, his chest rising and falling with deep, measured breaths as he fought to control his own desire, giving you the time you needed.

“Take all the time you need,” he murmured softly, his voice laced with restraint and tenderness. He leaned up slightly, brushing a gentle kiss against your temple, his lips lingering there, offering comfort and reassurance. “I’m here with you.”

You nodded, eyes closing as you focused on the feeling of him inside you, the stretch easing bit by bit as your body adjusted. The sting was still there, but it began to fade, replaced by a warm, overwhelming sense of connection. Your muscles relaxed, the tension in your body melting as you slowly started to get used to the fullness, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you like a protective cocoon.

Nanami’s thumbs brushed gentle circles over your hips, his voice a soothing balm. “You feel incredible,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

He was big, but the lube helped, and you allowed yourself to adjust comfortably. You could see the strain in his expression, the effort it took for him to hold back, to let you take the lead. It made you smile, knowing how much he wanted you but how much more he wanted to take care of you.

You began to move slowly, adjusting to the sensation of him inside you. With each shift of your hips, the initial tightness gave way to a deeper, more profound pleasure, but the fullness still made you pause every now and then, needing time to take it all in. Nanami’s hands caressed your skin, his touch comforting and grounding, encouraging you to move at your own pace.

As you lifted yourself up slightly, you felt a slight bit of discomfort that reminded you of the tenderness of the moment. Glancing down, you noticed a small spot of blood where your bodies met. Your breath hitched for a second, a wave of nervousness flickering through you, you weren’t worried, it was your first time, after all. Still, the sight made your heart race, if only for a brief moment.

Before you could say anything, Nanami’s hand moved to cup your cheek, his eyes soft and filled with concern. He had noticed your gaze and the subtle change in your expression. “Hey,” he whispered, his thumb brushing your cheek in slow, soothing circles. “It’s okay. That’s normal.”

His voice was calm, reassuring, like a gentle anchor pulling you back to the present. His eyes never wavered from yours, filled with nothing but tenderness and understanding. “If it’s too much, we can stop. You don’t have to push yourself, love.”

You shook your head softly, your chest swelling with affection for him, for the way he always prioritised your comfort. "No, it’s okay,” you murmured, your voice steady, despite the nerves that had briefly surfaced.

“You’re doing so well.” he murmured, his voice deep and strained with pleasure. His hands guided your hips in a slow rhythm, matching your pace.

Your confidence grew with each movement, the connection between you intensifying. The pleasure coursed through you like a steady pulse, and you couldn’t help but smile as you realised how much you enjoyed the feeling of being in control, of taking your time with him. Despite the initial discomfort, the intimacy was beyond anything you had imagined.

Nanami’s hands moved to your waist, guiding you but never forcing your pace. His eyes never left yours, watching you with a mix of adoration and hunger, as if he was committing every detail of this moment to memory. His quiet groans and whispered praises filled the room, encouraging you to move faster, to take what you needed from him.

The rhythm between you and Nanami deepened, each movement becoming a sacred dance of shared desire. As you rode him, the discomfort faded, replaced by waves of pleasure that seemed to ripple through your entire being. The connection you felt, the intimacy between you, was almost otherworldly—like something pure and divine. It was as if you were both part of something much larger than the physical act itself, something holy, like the intertwining of souls.

Nanami’s quiet groans echoed softly in your ears, blending with the sound of your own breathless moans. His eyes never wavered from yours, holding you in a gaze that felt reverent, as if he were worshipping you in this moment. His hands on your waist were not just guiding you—they were anchoring you to this present, sacred moment. The tenderness in his touch was a constant reminder that this wasn’t just about pleasure—it was about connection, trust, and love.

With each gentle rise and fall of your hips, you felt the tension between you building, a shared crescendo that felt like a prayer being offered to the heavens. The room seemed to glow, the soft light casting shadows that danced across your skin, making the moment feel almost ethereal. You could feel Nanami’s restraint, the way he held back, allowing you to lead, to take what you needed.

You glanced down again, noticing the faint trace of blood still lingering where your bodies met, but instead of worry, it felt like a symbol of something being born between the two of you. It was raw and beautiful in a way that made your heart swell.

Nanami’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, his words a low, reverent whisper. “You’re divine,” he Nanami's voice pulled you from your thoughts, his whispered words, "You're divine," he breathed, his hands squeezing your hips gently as you moved. "You feel so damn perfect."

Shivers ran across your skin at his praise. You had never felt so connected with another person-so enveloped in the pleasure, in the love radiating between you.

But with every shift it grew, not just from the physical, but it felt as though your very souls were craving for each other, entwining like a vine in a precious garden. Every word that came from Nanami was some sort of hallowed sound. His breath on your lips, hands against your skin...it was the kind of veneration one pays to something holy.

Nanami's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his touch soft and soothing. Soft kisses pressed against your forehead, your cheeks, your lips-each one another silent declaration of love to you.

As Nanami held you close, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin, a fleeting thought crossed his mind. You were his best friend's daughter. It came to him in a flash, momentarily pulling him out of the sacredness of the moment, but he shut it down, refusing to let it intrude.

He wasn't thinking about that now, not when you were here with him, your bodies connected in such a profound, intimate manner. The tenderness in his touch was real; the love he felt for you stronger than any sense of guilt or propriety. It wasn't about what anyone else might think. It was about you, about the trust and bond you'd built together.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to your temple, a silent reassurance, as if it was a sealing of his resolution. Nothing was going to mar this moment-not the past, not expectations, not the weight of responsibility. His fingers dug into your skin, not in a harmful manner but in one speaking volumes about his need to hold on to you, to keep you close. "I'm here," he whispered-a quiet affirmation, yet a promise to himself and you, all at once. "I’ll be all yours-"

The words spoke of everything unsaid, all he couldn't explain yet knew in his heart.

With every subtle rise and fall of your hips, every time your walls clenched around his cock, the tension of the moment surged between you-a crescendo of shared longing that tugged along your very veins like a heartbeat. But as you got lost in the rhythm, you felt the change in Nanami's energy. "Let me take over," he whispered, voice low and full of promise. You nodded, breathless, feeling the thrill of anticipation at the thought.

As you eased yourself off him, his hands guided you gently to the side, and he shifted his position with grace. You found yourself lying back against the soft sheets as your heart pounded in your chest.

As Nanami settled between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity in them making your heart race. There was something of the power in his eyes, a quiet confidence that coursed a thrill through you. You felt vulnerable yet cherished, knowing he was fully present, ready to guide you deeper into this moment.

Nanami lifted your ankles up, with a deliberate care, and laid them over his shoulders. The position opened you up to him; it heightened the sensation as he moved in closer. A soft gasp escaped you in a mix of surprise and delight flooding the senses because the positioning allowed for a completely new depth of connection.

"Just breathe," he whispered, his tone silky and soothing as he watched your reaction. His hands wrapped around your legs, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin as he gently pushed his cock inside again, sliding through with ease now. The angle was completely different, hitting all the right spots, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.

His thrusts were slow and deep, taking his time, wanting you to feel every inch of him inside you. "Kento," you gasped, body instinctively arching toward him as pleasure mounted inside of you. This position allowed him to explore you more fully, each thrust setting off a fire that coursed through your veins, racing your heart and quickening your breath.

He watched you intently, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and tenderness, as if he were committing to memory every reaction, every sigh escaping your lips. "You're incredible," he whispered, the admiration in his voice wrapping around you like a warm caress.

He quickened the pace with each thrust, and his motions grew urgent in his urge to take you higher. The tension coiled inside of you tighter and tighter with each stroke. Nanami pressed forward, his lips grazing your forehead before tracing soft kisses down the hollow of your neck, each one sending new waves coursing through your veins. "Let go," he whispered, the soft air of his voice dancing upon your skin. "Just feel.

With his words still echoing in your mind, you succumbed to the moment and the pleasure heaving upon you like a tidal wave. Anything less would make the connection between the two all-consuming; every thrust pulls you deeper into the bliss of shared intimacy.

As he drove deeper, instinctively, your body coiled around him, pulling him in closer, urging him on. You heard the quiet, breathless groans escaping from his lips, each a testament to the overwhelming pleasure being felt together.

"Just like that-" you encouraged, your voice trembling with need as you lost yourself in the rhythm, each thrust sending you spiralling further into ecstasy. Everything else around you disappeared but the two of you entwined in a dance of passion, a sacred union of body and soul.

He was taken aback by just how beautiful you looked, lying there.

“You really do look angelic," he breathed, staring at the way the dress clung to you. It was surreal to him-how someone so beautiful, so vibrant, could be here, completely vulnerable and open, just for him. The mere thought shot a surge of possessiveness rushing through him, igniting something deep within his core.

"I can’t believe I’m the only one that gets to see you like this," he said, his voice low and husky. The unspoken implication hung in the air, heavy with meaning. A fierce pride swelled inside of him, a protective instinct that raced his heart faster. You were his, and no one else had the privilege to know you this way.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses against your legs, savouring it. "Knowing I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this-to feel you and see you… it drives me wild," he confessed, words tumbling from his lips in an fervour that even caught him off guard. It was not merely in the act itself but in the depth of your connection, the trust that you had in one another. He couldn’t deny this had sparked up a desire of possession in him for you.

As you moved your hips to meet his thrusts, he groaned, burying his head against your shoulder, almost bending you in half from the angle he had your legs now. The deeper he thrust, the more the feeling of you wrapped around him intensified. Every thrust reminded him of the privilege he held, and he never wanted to forget the feeling of being inside you.

It wasn't one of those moments that would come and go but a promise of what was yet to be, an opportunity to get to know the inside of your relationship in that way-in ways more than physical. And in that realisation, a surge of determination overcame him to always cherish you, protect you, and make you aware of how well loved you were.

The rhythm between you picked up, Nanami holding you close as he thrust deeper, pushing you toward the edge of ecstasy. Your reactions to him-the gasps and moans falling from your lips-caused his heart to race even faster, firing up a flame of desire that threatened to consume him whole.

“I don't think I'm gonna let you go now," he murmured, his voice thick with affection. You felt shivers run down your spine at the conviction he drew behind the statement, a delicious thrill coursing through you. It sounded like a promise, a validation of this moment being more than just a one night thing.

With every thrust, it was like he testified to the fact that he knew you were meant to be together this way, bound by something more real than lust. "If you’ll have more of me, I swear I’ll treat you right" he whispered low, truthfulness in his voice raw and palpable.

As he continued to move, the pace becoming more insistent, the heat rose between you. The way you surrendered to him, trusting him implicitly, made his resolve even stronger. He wanted to protect you, to preserve this connection with every part of his being.

“I want you in my life…properly" he breathed, his voice breaking slightly, his emotions spilling over. "I want to be your person.”

Your eyes met and everything just felt so right. You could see the honesty in his eyes-the fierce protectiveness wrapping around you like a warm hug. This wasn't about desire; it was about love, wanting to be together in every sense.

He continued to move, each thrust a declaration, each moment together a step deeper into the bond you were forging. "You're mine," he repeated, his voice firm and unwavering, punctuating each word with a slow, deliberate movement. "And I'm yours, now and always."

He was putting every ounce into you, feeding the fire that was bursting to last between the two-this moment in the engraving of your hearts forever. Everything else faded around you, and it came down to just the two of you, entwined together in a dance as old as time, bound by passion and an unbreakable connection that seemed to be written across the stars.

With every thrust, the intensity between you became all too much. Nanami began to move with greater urgency, his grip upon you tightening as he urged you toward the brink.

It was as if you could feel the pressure build up in you, spiralling tighter and tighter every time his cock hit that sweet spot inside you. The room echoed with the sounds of your shared breathing, the soft slapping of skin to skin, and the sweet symphony of pleasure mingled together.

“I’m not holding back,” he growled, urgency creeping into his tone. “I want you to feel everything. I want you to remember this.” With that, he quickened his pace, thrusting deeper, harder, pushing you both closer to the edge. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, overwhelming your senses, and you could feel the tightness coiling in your core.

��Kento,” you gasped, the sound slipping from your lips unbidden. The tension was unbearable, a sweet torment that made your heart race. You could feel your body responding instinctively, tightening around him, urging him on, begging for release.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, even as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. “Let go for me.” His words ignited a spark within you, and you felt the wave building higher, ready to crash over you both.

With one final thrust, everything aligned—the heat, the pressure, the connection—and you felt yourself spiralling over the edge. Your body trembled as waves of pleasure washed over you, crashing through you with an intensity that left you breathless. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the space between you, as ecstasy enveloped you completely.

You held onto him as you gushed around his cock, the way you clenched around him drew him deeper into the bliss and he followed closely, his own climax hitting him like a tidal wave, surging right through him. “Oh God,” he groaned, the sound raw and primal, his own body responding instinctively to the way you embraced him.

He savoured the aftershocks of the moment, thankful in this moment that he’d worn a condom. And as the waves of pleasure began to recede, you were breathless and spent.

Nanami gently lowered your legs from his shoulders, his touch tender and deliberate. He cradled your ankles in his hands, mindful of the way the position had pulled and stretched your muscles. His fingers began to massage softly, kneading the tension away with a skillful touch that made you sigh in contentment.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and warm, a blend of concern and affection. He looked at you with those deep eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort. The intimacy of the moment enveloped you both like a soft blanket, grounding you in the reality of what you’d just shared.

You nodded, a smile spreading across your lips as you felt his gentle hands work their magic. “I’m perfect,” you breathed, your heart swelling with warmth as you took in the sight of him—the way he focused on you, the care he put into every movement. “Thank you.”

Nanami’s lips curved into a satisfied smile at your words, and he leaned down, placing soft kisses along your ankles and up your calves, each press of his mouth sending a shiver of delight through your body. It felt like a sacred ritual, a way for him to honour the experience you had just shared. He continued to massage your legs, his fingers moving with deliberate care, ensuring you felt cherished and adored.

“I want to take my time with you” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and tantalising. As he kissed his way back up to your thighs, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of mischief and sincerity.

“You have me,” you replied, your voice soft but full of promise. “All of me.”

Nanami’s gaze turned serious for a moment, a flicker of something profound passing between you. “I don’t take that lightly,” he said, sincerity lacing his tone. “You mean a lot to me.”

He paused, taking in the moment, the connection that thrummed between you. He quickly discarded the condom before leaning in, capturing your lips with his in a slow, tender kiss that ignited another spark within you. The world around you faded, and all that existed was the taste of him, the warmth of his body, and the way he made you feel—safe, cherished, and completely desired.

“Let’s stay like this for a while,” Nanami whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours, creating a heady sensation that made you smile. You nodded, content to linger in this cocoon of warmth and affection, feeling utterly adored in the aftermath of your shared bliss.

The world outside ceased to exist as you both lost yourselves in each other, the echoes of your passion fading into soft whispers, leaving only the sweet sound of your hearts beating in perfect harmony.

taglist:

@l0v3m3-p13as3 @hishearttohave @crybabysiri

@jays-adventure3 @nctislifue @eeveedvck @needtoloveoutloud @yowumi

@sweetpo1son @betelgeuse420 @yuhig-blog @psychedellyc @char-35

@kaeyeahsworld @sukunadckrider @ladyackermanisdead

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andivmg · 10 months ago

Text

My experience with Luke (Punz)

CW: toxic relationship, racism, dubious consent

I know in the past i said that i would no longer speak about him publicly, and when talking about my experiences with abuse and emotional mistreatment i begged to keep it anonymous but after reflecting on this for a week and seeing so many incredibly smart and strong women tell their stories. they have given me the strength to say his name.

this is really scary to talk about because of the copious levels of harassment i have received from his fans in the past so if this spreads or gets out of hand i will simply log off.

If you read my last post, i nicknamed him 1.

So aside from everything i said there, there were a lot of things i didn’t include because they would’ve made it obvious that it was him and it could potentially backfire on me so, i’m very afraid to post this. but i’m going to do it scared anyway, because it’s not fair that he gets to just go and live his life worry-free as if he didn’t practically ruin mine.

Because I already made a very lengthy post about him, i won’t include everything i said last time to avoid being redundant but if i repeat myself, please bear with me.

In our year long relationship i had to endure emotional neglect, gaslighting, verbal abuse, one instance where there was dubious consent, and much more.

Starting off at the beginning of our relationship, that’s when i was getting copious amounts of hate and harassment from his fan base (warranted or not), he decided that our relationship must be kept private. he said it was to “protect” me from his fanbase when in reality it was to protect himself. it was so he wouldn’t get all the backlash i was getting. this is funny because one of the things i got called out for was saying the B slur (derogatory term used against mexicans/latinos). I won’t get into the nuances of if i could say it or not as a puertorican because that’s discourse that does not pertain to this specific situation. But you know who definitely can’t say it? A white boy from Massachusetts. When i was getting cancelled for this and getting thousands of tweets calling me names, he decided that was the perfect time to say “I mean you are a b***** aren’t you? my little b*****.” Now, he said this completely unprompted. I was in the process of writing my apology and he just said that. I tell you this because i immediately shut him down and told him that there was no universe in which it was okay for him to say that word and especially not one where he could just call me that. While i was reprimanding him, he was smiling and laughing. he apparently found it amusing to call me a slur. regardless, he gave me a half-assed apology and said he wouldn’t do it again. and he didn’t. but this wasn’t the only time he was weirdly racist to me. this was my first time being in an interracial relationship so i was led to believe that this was normal by all the white people around me at the time. But, sometimes my spanish accent would come out and he would make fun of me and the way i pronounced some words. He also refused to visit me in Puerto Rico when i lived there or come meet my family when i really wanted him to because he “didn’t like the heat” or “it’s dangerous there isn’t it?”. Once, while we were watching season 2 of Bridgerton, he implied that the Sharma sisters were “too dark” for him to be attracted to them. This hurt me because they are brown skinned girls. I am a brown skinned girl. Then this, combined with the fact that he told me once he wasn’t attracted to me made me feel like my skin color was unattractive. These are only a few examples i can think of at the moment, but i’m sure there were more. Our relationship ended in 2022 so some of my memory is a bit hazy. But, I do remember feeling inferior to him throughout the relationship because he was white and I was not. I chalk that up to all the micro aggressions i had to deal with because i had never felt that way around white people before.

Another thing i had to endure was him constantly making me feel like he was embarrassed to be with me. Because i was cancelled, he didn’t want to associate with me too much. He did defend me on multiple occasions, I’ll give him that. But, he only did it because his name was getting dragged in the mud along with mine. Excusing my actions made him look better for being around me. In reality he didn’t really care. Because he was such a big content creator and someone i looked up to professionally, I took his advice as law. He told me to tone down my personality, to keep a low profile, to change things about myself to be more palatable to his audience. The same audience that spoke about me like “The pussy can’t be that good punz please stop defending her”. So i changed a lot of things about myself and my content to better suit what his audience liked. He made me feel like if his audience liked me, he would be public about our relationship and stop hiding it. He told me the reason why he wanted to keep our relationship a secret was because he didn’t want to get hate for it. But this wasn’t true. On my 20th birthday he went to Las Vegas for a twitch rivals event. That night i asked to facetime him to say goodnight and he refused because he was at a hotel room with his friends and he didn’t want them to know that we were together. It was as if my mere presence or the utterance of my name was a source of embarrassment for him. And he didn’t let me forget it. It wasn’t just a public thing at that point. He didn’t want people to know we were together, period. This was devastating to me because I would talk to all my friends about him. I was so proud to be with him and I was just one more problem to him. He made me feel so small and insignificant just because his fans didn’t like me.

He would berate me a lot. Not just due to getting heat online, although he did do that a lot. But in general whenever we would get into an argument or a disagreement he would always call me names like annoying or weird or stupid. He would raise his voice at me if i did something he didn’t like and call me an idiot. And that really hurt, i felt like i couldn’t bring up anything or do anything without getting insulted. If I hadn’t seen him in a few days because he was too busy streaming and i asked to hang out he would call me needy, clingy, and annoying. Granted, he might not have been wrong, but that is not something you say to someone you claim to love. He also insulted me when i was in depressive episodes. I have BPD and at the time i was not being treated properly for it. So, I was all over the place emotionally and he was what i clung to for validation, reassurance, and love. I talked to him when we first started dating about my disorder and told him that if it seemed like something he couldn’t handle that he could opt out of the relationship. I guess he didn’t think it was that bad or something idk because whenever i had really bad depressive episodes, he would tell me I was too sad to hang out with. He said that my sadness was a burden to him. Which would be fair. But, once my mother had a conversation with him about me. She told him that i am someone who needs a lot of love and caring. She said that if he wasn’t willing to put in that kind of effort into a relationship to just leave me alone. He reassured her that he would be there for me no matter what. He told my mother that he would protect me and my heart. He did not. He took all the warnings I gave him and ignored them and then made me feel like I was the problem. And even worse, he would say that i was pretending to be sad to get his attention when he would neglect for days at a time.

There were also some smaller things like the fact that he made me feel really guilty whenever he would spend money on me. Also, he would be really mean about my eating habits. For context, i used to suffer from an eating disorder. I was anorexic and had a really unhealthy relationship with food during high school and my first year of uni. This relationship began when i was recovering from my ED. For me, eating was really hard. So i had certain comfort foods that, while sometimes unhealthy, at least it was something to eat when i didn’t feel like eating anything. He knew this. Yet, whenever i would crave some of these foods he would call me fat. Constantly told me I’d gain weight from eating all that junk food. Saying that to someone with an eating disorder is crazy. Other smaller things were that whenever I would post tiktoks where i was lip syncing or just looking good he would yell at me and say i was looking for attention. Same with Instagram or Twitter whenever i would post photos where I looked hot. He never planned out a single date for us. I would beg him to get me flowers and he did maybe once but i’ll get into that in a bit. He would make fun of me in front of his friends to make himself look better. He let his friends say really degrading things about me in his presence. For example, once when i was showering, i overheard him on a discord call with George and Sapnap and i heard George say “if you don’t go in the shower and have sex with Andi, i will”. Once, when i was really struggling with my legs (for those of you who don’t know, i have arthritis and it’s very painful. at the time i wasn’t diagnosed but i was in a lot of pain) I literally could not walk. I had to beg him to take me to the ER because i didn’t know what was wrong with me. He didn’t want to take me but eventually i convinced him, and while we were there all he did was complain about how long it was taking and that he would have rather been at home streaming. Whenever I would talk about my interests that i was excited about like shows or books he would be incredibly uninterested and say that those things were stupid and he didn’t want to hear about them. I know all of these seem very silly or superficial but cumulatively it was awful.

Now for arguably the most serious thing i’m going to talk about. I want to preface this by saying i am just telling my side of what happened. You can come to your own conclusions about this.

On April 25, 2022 it was our one year anniversary, and i had made a dinner reservation for us. I expected him to plan something throughout the day for us to do. He told me he was going to spend the whole day playing Valorant so I got upset and cancelled the reservation. After a very heated argument, we calmed down and i asked him to come over. He came over about an hour later with flowers and drinks (I was 20 at the time so I couldn’t buy the drinks myself). He brought Smirnoffs and Trulys. For context, I am a lightweight. I always have been. I literally get tipsy on half a cocktail. And that day, I hadn’t eaten anything because i was in distress over our argument. So we get to talking and drinking. I blacked out after my second Smirnoff. Apparently I drank 3 but I genuinely cannot remember anything after finishing the second one. The next morning i woke up naked in my bed. I woke him up and asked him “Luke, why am I naked?” and he said “Because you didn’t want to put your clothes back on.” When I clarified to him that that was not what I meant, he got defensive and said that he didn’t realize how drunk I was. He proceeded to tell me that I initiated sex with him and that i was very enthusiastic about it. He said he didn’t know i could black out on three smirnoffs. He made fun of me for being a lightweight and continued to make light of the situation. Then he mentioned that i fell off the bed at some point in the night and that it was funny how drunk I was. I then questioned him. Because if he thought that me tripping and falling off the bed because i was so drunk was funny, how did he not know that i was too drunk? He responded by saying that i fell off the bed only after we were done. That day I broke up with him. I’m still really confused about what happened that night. I don’t remember anything and all I have to go on is what he said to me. We were in a relationship at the time and he says he didn’t know how drunk I was so I’m not sure what to call what happened. A while after that day, his friend that hmu while we were broken up and I started talking again and i confided in him about that night. He told me to be careful saying things like that because they could get me into trouble. I spoke to some of our other friends about it and they told me it was no big deal and that it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know how drunk I really was. Because I don’t remember, I have been led to believe that this is not a serious matter. You can think what you want, come to whatever conclusions you want. That is just my side of the story.

I want to add that I’m not proud of how I acted after the relationship ended. I felt really angry at all the shit he put me through and I guess a part of me wanted him to hurt even a quarter of how I did. So I started talking to his friend and got involved with him. This backfired on me because his friend ended up really hurting me too so ig i got my karma. But the thing that hurt the most is that because of what I did, some of our friends took his side in the break up. I was told that I did something terrible by getting involved with his friend that he was already insecure about and that he didn’t deserve that. These are the same friends who were witness to the dumpster fire of a relationship we had and all the things he did to me. They turned their backs on me because of this one thing I did. But stood by and watched as he treated me like garbage for over a year.

I will conclude this by saying that while this relationship has been “over and done with” for almost two years now, I carry a lot of trauma from it still. I still talk about him in therapy and have had to put in a lot of work to heal from what he did and i still cannot say that i am okay. I am very blessed to now have a patient and understanding partner who has helped me heal from that trauma and i just want to quickly thank him for that. Nobody deserves to go through what I did. While yes, it was a toxic relationship, and I had a part in that, it does not excuse all the awful things he said and did to me. This is my truth, thank you for taking the time to read it.

#sorry if the formatting is all over the place

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soup-spoonn · 5 months ago

Text

The weight of the world

A certain scene taken from this post by @medusas-graveyard

(Kinda a long part, no TWs :3)

Danny had been living with the Wayne’s for about two months now, and they have long since found out about his Ghost King status.

He’s been exhausted, what with his king responsibilities, batfam responsibilities, and the Wayne kid responsibilities.

King responsibilities are the worst of them all though.

He started down the hall, hearing Dick say, “where’s Danny at?”

“Alfred replied with, “young master Daniel is still resting, and will be with us shortly.”

Then Damian chimed in begrudgingly, “he acts like the most fatigued person here.”

He opened the door to the dining room saying, “convincing actual gods not to destroy humanity is fatiguing, Dames, give me a break.” He ruffled Damian’s hair, who slapped his hand away, not quite registering Danny’s words.

“Danny, what?!” Dick asked incredulously.

“Nuthin’ important,” he said, yawning and stretching widely, his sharp canines bearing for a moment.

He then dug into the plate of food Alfred brought him, ignoring the concerned looks shared around the table.

“So, Danny, wanna talk about what you said earlier? At breakfast?” Dick asked, being the fourth person to today.

“Mmm… no.” He said, for the fourth time today.

“Uhm, well what you said was… concerning to say the least.” He said, trying to convince him to talk.

“Mmm… no.” He repeated shortly.

He wanted to tell them about it, but he knows how his newfound family gets.

When something bad could happen, they all jump to conclusions and start worrying and checking in and spying on you.

It’s sweet really, but unhealthy as hell.

Not to mention annoying.

Nope, Danny is not up for the weeks of stalking. Damn his sleep deprived brain.

“Danny, we need to talk.”

Lovely. Bruce himself is asking to talk.

“Mmm… no, thank you.” He was more polite, as he literally owes this man his life and afterlife.

“Danny.” He said, and Danny stopped in his tracks at the seriousness in his voice.

His heart literally stopped.

“I’m sorry, but I already said all that’s important! There’s nothing else to be said.”

“Maybe, but you should’ve said something. Is that why you’ve been getting home late the past week?”

“Uh… yeah. Sorry, B.”

“It’s not your fault, but you’re too young to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“Who isn’t though? And anyway, I’m used to it! You know, one time I brought the entirety of my hometown back from the ghost zone? Not without help, but still!”

Bruce looked taken aback, and replied with, “that’s not a good thing to be used to, Danny.”

“There’s no turning back time. Except for Clockwork, but he can’t change this timeline.” He said with a shrug.

Bruce shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Danny, you should probably talk to your siblings, they’re very concerned.”

Danny heaved a sigh, “think I could just tell Dick? He’s the most approachable. And he likes gossiping, thinks he’s sneaky. It’s hilarious.”

“Yeah, that should suffice.” Bruce responded with a sigh, walking away afterwards.

An hour later, Danny told Dick about the thing with the gods and all that, and Dick looked ponderous, and asked, “how do you convince them? And which gods are they?”

Danny turned pink and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I showed them my memories of you guys… they’re sometimes super nice, and they need a reminder of humanity and their kindness at times… you know?”

Dick looked like he was gonna cry.

“You! Use memories of us! To save the world?!”

“… yeah…” Danny replied, still pink.

“Awwe! I’m gonna tell everyone!”

Danny let out a sigh as Dick skipped off happily, then he continued to his bedroom and closed the door.

He sat in his room at his computer until dinner, then afterwards he returned.

Until it was dark out.

One thing Danny really doesn’t like about Gotham is the fact that the smog over the city makes it so he can’t see the stars at night.

Sometimes he just… goes ghost and flies to above the city, above the smog, and the death, and the pain and misery the city harbors.

He doesn’t tell his family, but he’s ninety percent sure Jason already knows.

He sat in his airy sanctuary, gazing up into the stars longingly, feeling his core vibrate happily.

The stars are so incredibly beautiful and bright.

Danny smiled softly as he felt another presence floating over to him.

Superman.

He turned to the large man, who often joined him in his stargazing, to talk about life.

He’s probably told Superman more than he has Bruce.

About GIW, his responsibilities as Ghost King, his parents and Jazz…

He misses Jazz so dearly.

The two sat in silence for about two minutes, until Superman spoke first, “how’s life going, kid?”

“…I miss my sister.” He said calmly, still staring blankly at the stars.

Superman didn’t share much with Danny, as he likes just helping the boy with his troubles.

He knows of his family, who attacked him three months ago when he told them his secret.

He then traveled toward Gotham, to try to escape the GIW and his parents.

Jason then found him in Crime Alley, about to be attacked by a gang, and took him to Bruce to keep him safe.

Clark knows now that the boy lost everything he loved, and was hoping to be ended by the gang, so he could go back to the stars. (As he said)

Bruce and his family gave him something to live for, and he took a while to trust again after the two very people who raised him tried to hurt him out of- what, fear? Rage? Curiosity? It baffles Clark what their reasoning was for attacking their son.

“I know son, and I bet she misses you too.” He said, offering him the smoothie he brought for him.

Danny accepted gratefully, sipping on the smoothie- ooo strawberry!- as Superman smiled, and his Justice League communication device vibrated, disguised as a watch, and he sighed, looking at the message sent by Batman.

“Sorry, Danny, I have to go, you know, Justice League stuff.” He waved and started toward the closest zeta beam.

Danny sighed, supposing that he might as well go home and to bed, as he hadn’t brought his phone this time.

“Danny’s not in his room?” Tim asked, “ where is he?”

“I don’t know, he left his phone here!” Dick replied, panicked.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?”

“Danny! You startled me! Where were you?!” Dick asked, spinning around to look at him.

“I went on a walk.” He said calmly.

“We’re in Gotham, you can’t just go on a walk.” Jason replied flatly.

“I… I do that sometimes.”

“Whatever…” Jason said, defeated.

“Anyway, we’re gonna play mario kart, wanna join?” Tim piped up.

“Sure!”

Danny and Tim walked off toward the game room together happily.

After Jason kicked everyone’s asses at two games, then teamed up with Dick for the third, everyone was too bummed or pissed to play another round and went to bed.

Dick stayed, as he said he wanted to have a conversation with Danny. He was nervous, but complied.

I will probably continue this but idk :Þ

#dpxdc #dc x dp #danny fenton #✨trauma✨#dick grayson #batman #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #danny phantom #teehee #i tried

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hp-hcs · 11 months ago

Note

i see your theo and mattheo are bottoms post so i ask of you BOTTOM 👏🏻 YANDERE 👏🏻 FICS 👏🏻 i'd go feral if you dropped any plsplspls 😭‼️

• smut • hook up boyfriend — yandere! switch! theodore nott x male! switch! toxic! reader

look at this little bottom bitch he’s mine back off

so, my boyfriend proofreads most of my works on here, and i gave him my rough draft for this ask. he then said, and i quote, "jesus christ, [hp-hcs]. you write smut like a nun." and then he took my phone from me. so basically, this is a long winded way of saying that my boyfriend helped me write all the smexy stuff. tell me if I should let him keep helping me or if he's a god awful smut writer who should not be allowed within a hundred feet of my tumblr, mkay?

INCREDIBLY TOXIC READER JFC WHYD I MAKE YOU SUCH A MANIPULATIVE BASTARD IDK

WARNINGS: SMUT MDNI, amab reader, switch reader, implied unprotected sex w/ multiple sexual partners (you’re not magic irl. wrap it before you tap it.), lot of power dynamic changes—traditional top dom/bottom sub but also some top sub/bottom dom stuff as well, toxic shit in general, lot of manipulation, pretty mild yandere from theo, degradation, praise

i’m of the opinion that theo would be a bottom/dom just so that he could save face for posterity

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“What do you mean I can’t hook up with him?”

“Because you’re already hooking up with me!”

“So? We’re not exclusive, Theodore.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Friends with benefits. That’s it. I’m not beholden to give you my loyalty and undivided attention, dipshit.”

Theo growls and runs a hand through his hair while he paces around his dorm. You lay back on his bed, watching him with a bored expression.

“But he’s my best friend, Y/n!”

“Mhm. He’s also a damn good fuck.”

“I don’t need to know that!”

“Why not? You seem to enjoy fucking your friends, no?” You shrug, stretching out across his bed without a single care. “Maybe you ought to add Matty to your hook up rotation.”

“Matty?”

“Yeah? I’ve got nicknames for all my partners, Teddy-Bear.”

“All?!” Theo splutters. “Well- well, tell me this. Does he even satisfy you? Do you ever think of me when he’s fucking you?”

“He’s the bottom, actually.”

“Wh- huh?”

“He’s the bottom,” you repeat. “Why are you shocked? You’re well aware I’m a switch, Theo. And everyone knows that Mattheo is a Bottom-with-a-capital-B.”

A flame of white-hot jealousy heats up Theo’s skin. He grits his teeth in barely-restrained anger; it’s as if just saying the wrong thing right now would cause him to snap and go hunt down Riddle to put his head on a pike.

“I could be your Bottom-with-a-capital-B. You don’t need Riddle. You’re mine, and I’m yours. Got that?”

You snort. “No offense, Teddy, but I couldn’t see you bottoming in a million years. You’re my top hook up. I’ve got bottom hook ups so that you don’t have to do that.”

He stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, maybe it’s high time you teach me how to bottom then. I don’t want you seeing other people. Especially if it’s just because they give you something I’m too chicken to.”

You blink. “Huh. That’s some weirdly endearing possessive dedication, love.”

“I aim to please,” he says dryly, those unnervingly dead eyes of his seeming like they could see inside your soul when he stares at you.

You consider the offer before a wicked grin slowly spreads across your face. “I bet you do, darling.”

~~~

"Sh-shit! Fuck! Y-Y/n, I-"

“You gonna cum, pretty boy? Hm? Already?” He whimpers and nods frantically, his fingers scrabbling for hold on your shoulders and leaving stinging nail-bitten marks across your back.

Your teasing relents a bit at the sight of his blissed-out expression. Theo’s mouth hangs open in ecstasy, his eyes shut tightly and his back arching up from the mattress.

You groan at the sight of him splayed out under you. You grip his cock, reveling in his whimpers, and quickly start jacking him off in time to your thrusts. “C’mon, baby. You can do it. Be a good boy for me.”

His entire body stiffens as he cums with a moan that would make even a Muggle porn star blush.

You groan and start to slow down, but before you can fully pull out, he locks his knees around your hips to keep you in place.

"D-don't you fucking dare. More.”

“More?” You tease gently, hesitant to continue despite his request. “What a fucking slut you are, Teddy-Bear. Insatiable.”

He growls at your hesitance, far too impatient for that kind of bullshit.

He grips your shoulders, his knees tightening around your hips again as he uses all of that hot boy quidditch strength to roll you both over.

You let out a tiny yelp of surprise as he flips you onto your back. He whimpers loudly and moans at the shift in position, having to tuck his face into your neck for a moment while he collects himself.

Your hand moves up to comb your fingers through his hair, but he knocks it away before you can.

He sits up, supporting his weight with his hands flat on your chest, and takes a shaky breath at the shift of positions. “Want you t’ cum too.”

Your hands find his hips and grip them firmly, your breath becoming uneven as he starts to grind back and forth.

You help him raise himself up then lower his body again, listening to his sweet moans. As he finds a steady rhythm, you watch as his thighs begin to tremble.

“Merlin- I’ll never complain about you getting tired while riding me ever again. This is a fucking workout.”

“You’ll be fine. You’re not on the quidditch team for nothing.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

His face darkens.

Maybe he just doesn’t like me bringing up his teammates while we’re literally fucking, you consider. Maybe he-

“How good of a fuck is Riddle anyways, huh? Could he ever ride you like this?”

Ah.

Fuck.

Mattheo’s on the quidditch team as well.

Theo starts moving with passion, roughly slamming down on you. “I asked you a question.”

“G-god- Theo!” You gasp, caught off guard by the sudden influx of sensations.

“Answer me.”

You whine and scratch your short fingernails over his abs, marveling at the pink and red lines that bloom at the surface a half-second later. “C-could never be as good as you, love. Shit- you’re perfect.”

He shivers at the sensation and grins slyly. “Perfect, huh?”

“Perfect,” you repeat, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him in for a slow kiss.

He sighs against your lips, returning the kiss. The sweet moment is cut off by you suddenly jerking your hips up into him and cursing loudly.

“Fuck- you feel so fucking good, babe-”

He gasps and his fingers claw frantically at your shoulders for any kind of support. “Merlin- I’m gonna-”

You watch as Theo’s second orgasm hits him and he goes practically boneless, slumping over on top of you.

He’s spasming around you like mad, and you can’t help but moan loudly when you cum just seconds later.

You both lay there in silence for a moment, trying to catch your breaths. Theo slowly eases himself off of your dick and rolls over to lay beside you.

“What‘s the final verdict?” You grin cheekily after a moment. “You a pillow prince now or nah?”

“Mmm…nah. I think I can settle for the label of switch though.”

“Aha! Welcome to the dark side!”

“Yeah, yeah. Shush. Now, roll over, I’m on top this time.”

~~~

“I heard you’re going steady with someone now.”

“Mm…mhm,” Theo hums an affirmative around the cigarette in his mouth, one hand cupped around the flame of his lighter as he lit it.

“Who’s the lucky fella?”

“Your ex-fuckbuddy.”

“Which one?”

“Y/n.”

Mattheo’s brow furrows. “Y/n? Y/n and I have never slept together.”

Theo suddenly launches into a coughing fit as he chokes on his lungful of smoke. “What?”

“Now, don’t get me wrong. I’d hit that in a heartbeat if he offered. But, I’m also like ninety percent sure that you’d kill me if I did that, and I rather enjoy being not-murdered, believe it or not. He is incredibly hot though.”

Theo just stared, his mouth hanging open.

You never slept with Mattheo?

What?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

• standalone!! •

i will not be writing a part two!!

#harry potter #hp #fuck jkr #hp x male reader #x male reader #x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott smut #theo nott x reader #yandere theodore nott #slytherin boys smut #hp smut #male reader #male reader smut #theodore nott x male reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month ago

Note

So... twst anime—

I feel I should be much more excited than I actually am. Don't get me wrong- I am excited ( for Leona animated content ) to see how they'll handle some things- but apart from the worries you listed, I just... I know this sounds a little gatekeepy but an anime will mean more ppl will know and talk about the story and I fear that they won't go into the game/other content and thus have a limited opinion on characters/events and misunderstand them. Basically I fear that characters will be even more mischaracterized than they already ( sometimes ) are by the current fandom 😭 ( specially Leona- gunshots )

[Referencing this post!]

I feel like there's for sure been mixed reactions to the recent anime news. The general consensus is excitement, but occasionally I've also seen skepticism or worries that the anime won't be as good as the long period since the initial announcement would have had us believe. That's to be expected; we won't know the quality of the anime until we watch it ourselves.

Mmm, there's that age-old sentiment again 😅 The thought of, "More people will be exposed to Twst because of this; I'm worried they will misunderstand the story/characters." It always seems to make a comeback whenever a new major piece of Twst media is announced... It happened when the official EN localization was announced too. People were jumping to conclusions and worrying that the influx of "EN-only" folks and/or a sub-par localization would lead to newer fans not seeing the story and characters the same way as the JP side did. I'll repeat what I said back then (as I think the same logic applies), along with a few additional points/expansions, as are relevant:

As you've said, mischaracterization happens, even now. This is normal in fandom, and it doesn't necessarily make fandom a "bad" space. Variation in thought is a normal human thing in general and I don't think it should be discouraged. If everyone thought the exact same way, life would be boring and we would have a limited number of ideas circulating.

This thinking sort of presupposes that the Twst fandom is currently without issues (or has few of them) and that it is the growth of the fandom that will cause problems. From experience, I can tell you that fandoms always have their toxic pockets. Fandoms growing larger just exposes more of those pockets because, statistically speaking, with more bodies present, there's a higher chance something will come to light, be it a personal squabble, a cultural difference, actually serious allegations, etc. It's a natural part of a fandom's lifecycle.

How other people interpret the story/characters should have limited or no bearing whatsoever on your own enjoyment. It does not erase your own views on the story/characters either. If you find that your concerns about others are becoming overwhelming, I'd encourage you to take a step back and think about what in this fandom makes you happy.

I feel that the mentality I mentioned earlier stems from an "us versus them" mindset. We're viewing current Twsties as the "in" group and everyone else as the "out" group... when, really, I think it might be healthier to perceive the "out" group as potential Twsties. Like... instead of fearing them as strangers coming in to "taint" the fandom, let's try to think of them as "friends we haven't met yet". After all, these anime-first or anime-only Twsties could end up being your next buddy, someone cool you meet at an event, a Twst content creator you enjoy, etc. Try to reframe your thinking!

Lastly!! We have no idea how the anime will go. They might not make it solely the main story just because it’s a manga adaptation. The team might have weaved in vignettes/event stories or bonus content exclusive to the anime which helps flesh out the characters.

I think that about wraps up my thoughts. I hope that helps alleviate some of your concerns. Hang tight, keep an open mind, and pray that the L*ona content in the anime is good 🤡

#disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst en #twisted wonderland anime #twst anime #twisted wonderland en #notes from the writing raven #advice

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simplyraeblue · 22 days ago

Text

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, drinking, use of "princess", still decently tame, sukuna rides a motorcycle, eventual smut warning tho of course ( • ᴗ - ) A/N: as I said, I had three parts already written for this before I even posted part one (ᵕ—ᴗ—) so, enjoy ya filthy animals

index part one | part three

part three word count : 3,437

you couldn’t quite figure out how or why Sukuna kept ending up at the bar as you, at the same time, every day since your first encounter. yet, like clockwork, you found yourself leaving work and heading to that bar – the one where you’d first crossed paths. maybe it was a subconscious decision, a quiet hope that he’d be there again, just like he had been the last time, and the time before that.

each encountered felt like a dance. you couldn’t even recall the last time you’d ordered a drink for yourself. Sukuna always had two waiting – one for him, one for you. he seemed to know you’d show up, his confidence practically radiating. it had to be his cockiness that convinced him of your arrival each day.

but Sukuna wasn’t oblivious. he’d pieced together that the bar was just around the corner from your workplace, and with a little persistence and some well-placed tips to the bartender, he gained the little slice of knowledge that you were a regular. your resistance intrigued him, even if it grated on his nerves. how had you managed to keep him at arm’s length this long? this game was new territory for him; women usually threw themselves at him, eagerly falling into bed. but you? you were different – a challenge he hadn’t enjoyed in ages.

“are you an alcoholic, or what?” you teased, smirking as you approached him from behind. right on time. Sukuna didn’t bother answering. instead, he slid a pint across the bar to the stool next to him and patted the seat, silently inviting you to take your place. beside him.

you scoffed, half in disbelief. you weren’t sure if his behavior was bordering on stalker territory or if he was just that determined to win whatever strange game he’d started two weeks ago. and yet, despite your better judgment, you took the open seat.

over time, those two post-work hours with him each night had become a strange sort of routine. little by little, you’d pried bits of personal information from him. he had two brother and was the oldest. he worked as a tattoo artist – a quick internet search confirmed he was quite popular locally – and he wanted to eventually open his own shop someday.

and then there was the breakup. he’d mentioned it briefly, almost casually, as if it wasn’t any true trouble to him. but the details? those he left vague.

“while I don’t mind doing this every day, when are you going to let me take you out on a real date?” Sukuna asked, his devilish smirk firmly in place as he watched you take a sip of your drink.

“I don’t know.” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “it’s been pretty entertaining coming here after work and find your raggedy ass sitting in the same spot every time.” you grinned over the rim of your glass, already bracing yourself for his comeback. something wicked flickered in his eyes, and you knew you’d poked the bear.

“raggedy ass?” Sukuna repeated, arching a brow with an amused grin. “you and my little brother would get along way too well.”

“probably.” you shot back. “I’ve only had to tolerate you for two weeks, but he’s already my hero for dealing with you his whole life.”

Sukuna laughed – a deep, booming sound that felt like it reverberated through your chest. it wasn’t something you’d intended, but you found yourself liking the sound: loud, unapologetic, and enough to draw attention from others in the bar. you were pretty sure if anyone dared to complain, they’d shut up instantly with a remark from his sharp tongue.

when his laughter subsided, Sukuna rested his chin in his hand, gaze fixed on you. “how about we play a little game?” he asked, his tone low and teasing.

“aren’t we already playing one?” you replied, shooting him a pointed look.

“this one’s simple.” his smirk widened. “I’ll be here, same time as usual tomorrow. if you show up again, I’ll take that as a yes to a date with me. a proper date, not just sitting in a bar down the street from your work.

you averted your gaze, aware of the heat rising in your cheeks. a real date? you’d gotten so comfortable here, trading playful insults and talking with him so casually every evening. would a date change things?

Sukuna studied your face while you thought in silence, the corner of his mouth twitching in satisfaction. he knew he’d caught you off guard. he thought you look so cute, brows furrowed and cheeks flushed, unable to meet his gaze. flustered – that’s what it was. and he liked you that way far more than he cared to admit.

“not sure you’d survive a real date with me,” you said, finally meeting his eyes, your voice steady despite the slight flutter in your chest.

Sukuna’s grin deepened, revealing the faintest hint of sharp canines. “oh, sweetheart, I’d survive just fine. the real question is, could you handle it?”

there it was—that cocky, self-assured attitude that was both infuriating and magnetic. you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “bold of you to assume I even want to.”

“I don’t assume,” he replied smoothly, leaning closer. “I know. you wouldn’t keep showing up here if you didn’t enjoy my company.” his voice dipped lower, like a secret meant only for you. “I can see it in the way you’re smiling right now, no matter how much you try to hide it.”

your smile faltered for a second, but the smug look on his face spurred you to regain your footing. “or maybe I just like the free drinks,” you teased, taking a long sip from your glass.

Sukuna barked out another laugh, drawing more curious glances from around the bar. he didn’t care. “fair enough. but tomorrow? no drinks, no games—just you and me. that is, if you show up.” he gave you a look that was both a challenge and an invitation. “think you’re brave enough?”

brave enough? the audacity.

“you’re really not going to drop this, are you?” you asked, setting your glass down and crossing your arms.

“not a chance,” Sukuna replied, leaning back with an air of triumph. “but hey, if you’re too scared, just say so.”

you glared at him, lips twitching as you tried not to laugh. “I’m not scared.”

“good,” he said, standing up suddenly and throwing a few bills on the counter. “then I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.” he grabbed his leather jacket, slinging it over his shoulder as he looked down at you one last time. “and don’t be late, princess.”

with that, Sukuna turned and walked out, leaving you sitting there, torn between frustration and attraction. you hated how much his confidence got under your skin, and yet you couldn’t deny the thrill that came with every interaction.

you sighed, finishing the rest of your drink. tomorrow, huh? you weren’t sure if you’d go—but the thought of skipping out and letting him win so easily? that didn’t sit right with you either.

as you left the bar that night, one thing was clear: Sukuna had officially gotten under your skin, and you weren’t entirely sure how to shake him. or if you even wanted to.

the next evening, you found yourself lingering outside the bar longer than usual. it wasn’t hesitation keeping you there—not entirely. maybe it was nerves, though you hated to admit that Sukuna had gotten into your head like this.

the thought of his smug grin waiting for you inside was both infuriating and... exciting. you sighed, steeling yourself, and pushed the door open.

as always, Sukuna was there, seated in his usual spot, leaning back against the bar like he owned the damn place. he didn’t even look up when the door creaked open. instead, he glanced at his watch, his grin forming before he turned to you. “right on time, princess,” he drawled, eyes raking over you with a lazy confidence that set your nerves alight. “knew you couldn’t resist.”

you rolled your eyes, brushing past a couple of patrons on your way to his side. “don’t get too full of yourself, ass. you know I was already in the area.”

“oh, yeah?” he said, sliding a fresh drink in your direction without missing a beat. “and I suppose it’s just a coincidence that you didn’t choose another bar?”

you took the drink—not because he offered, of course, but because it was easier than engaging with his nonsense right away. “you’re awfully cocky for someone who still hasn’t gotten a yes,” you retorted, sipping slowly and watching his reaction.

Sukuna laughed, the deep, familiar sound somehow settling your nerves even as it annoyed you. “you showing up is all the ‘yes’ I need,” he said, turning to face you fully now, his arm resting casually on the back of your chair. “so, what’s it gonna be? you gonna let me sweep you off your feet tonight?”

you raised an eyebrow. “sweep me off my feet? that’s ambitious. I’m not that easily impressed.”

“challenge accepted,” he replied without hesitation. he leaned in just slightly, close enough for his voice to drop into that low, taunting tone he seemed to know got under your skin. “I’ve been playing nice, but maybe it’s time I stepped up my game.”

you tilted your head, meeting his gaze head-on. “oh, this was you playing nice?”

“careful,” he warned, smirking. “keep testing me, and you might find out what happens when I stop.”

the tension between you crackled like static, a silent standoff as neither of you broke eye contact. it was exhilarating, maddening, and far too entertaining for you to even think about leaving now. you couldn’t deny the heat you felt wash over your body, from your head to your toes you were… bothered to say the least.

finally, Sukuna leaned back, breaking the moment with a smug chuckle. “finish your drink, sweetheart. we’ve got a reservation.”

you blinked. “a reservation? you made plans?”

“don’t sound so surprised,” he said, standing and tossing a few bills on the bar. “I told you, tonight’s a proper date. you coming, or are you chickening out?”

you didn’t move right away, deliberately taking another sip of your drink just to make him wait. but as much as you hated giving him the satisfaction, the curiosity was too strong to ignore.

setting your glass down, you stood and grabbed your coat. “alright, Sukuna,” you said, brushing past him toward the door. “show me what you’ve got.”

his grin widened as he followed, the thrill of the chase sparking in his eyes.

the cool evening air brushed against your skin as you stepped out of the bar, Sukuna following close behind. “so,” you started, glancing back at him. “where’s this ‘proper date’ happening? let me guess—a hole in the wall with sticky floors and loud music?”

“cute,” Sukuna replied, his smirk firmly in place. “but no. I’m classier than that.”

“sure you are,” you muttered, half teasing. “alright, then. impress me.”

“don’t worry, princess,” he said, leading you down the sidewalk. “I will.”

your steps slowed as you spotted a sleek, black motorcycle parked just ahead, a matching black helmet tied to the handlebar. Sukuna stopped next to it and turned to you with a grin that could only be described as wicked.

“seriously?” you asked, gesturing toward the bike. “this is how you’re taking me on a proper date?”

“what? you don’t trust me?” he teased, pulling a spare helmet from the back and tossing it to you.

you caught it, arching a brow. “not sure trust is the word I’d use. what is this, your bad-boy routine?”

he laughed. “sweetheart, this is the routine. now, are you getting on, or are you too scared?”

your jaw clenched at the challenge in his tone. no way were you letting him think you’d back down. you placed the helmet on your head, snapping it into place as he watched with obvious amusement.

“let’s get this over with,” you said, climbing onto the bike behind him.

Sukuna smiled as he mounted the motorcycle, his hands gripping the handlebars with ease. “hold on tight, princess,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

you hesitated for half a second before wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling the warmth of his body beneath his jacket – god above even the muscles in his abdomen that your arms pressed themselves into. he revved the engine, and before you could overthink it, the bike took off.

the rush of the wind was exhilarating, the world blurring as Sukuna navigated through the city streets. you clung to him, your earlier nerves replaced by something close to excitement. it wasn’t long before he slowed, pulling into a quiet side street lined with warm lights and the soft hum of activity.

when he finally stopped outside a small, cutesy restaurant, you climbed off the bike and removed your helmet, smoothing down your hair. “this is it?” you asked, eyeing the sign above the door and noticing the patio with fairy lights out back. “didn’t peg you as this type.”

“guess I’m full of surprises,” Sukuna said, smirking as he stowed the helmets.

you rolled your eyes, but the faint smile tugging at your lips betrayed your curiosity. Sukuna held the door open for you, and as you stepped inside, the cozy atmosphere of the restaurant wrapped around you.

“you’re really going all out, huh?” you said, glancing back at him.

he leaned down slightly, just enough for his words to feel like a private joke. “when I do something, I do it right.”

you cast a glance over your shoulder as Sukuna followed you in, his imposing figure drawing a few curious looks from the other customers. it wasn’t hard to see why. even here, dressed in his leather jacket and with his strong presence, Sukuna looked like he belonged in the chaos of a fight, not the quiet comfort of a place like this. yet somehow, he seemed perfectly at ease.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or suspicious,” you said, crossing your arms. “how’d you even get us a table here on short notice?”

he smirked, casually slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. “let’s just say I know how to get what I want.”

“of course you do,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

the host appeared, guiding you to a corner table that offered a little privacy from the rest of the customer. Sukuna pulled out your chair, a surprising gesture that earned a skeptical look from you.

“since when are you the gentleman type?” you asked, sitting down cautiously.

“since now,” he replied smoothly, taking his seat across from you. “don’t get used to it.”

the two of you read over the menu in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken tension. it wasn’t awkward, though – more like another game you were both quietly playing, testing each other’s patience and resolve.

when the waiter came, Sukuna ordered with casual confidence, even surprising you with his knowledge of the wine list. as the waiter walked away, you leaned forward, narrowing your eyes.

“okay, what’s the deal?” you asked. “this doesn’t seem like your usual scene.”

he leaned back in his chair, his smirk never wavering. “what, you think I spend all my time in bars and back alleys?”

“well, yeah,” you said bluntly, earning a low chuckle from him.

“trust me,” he said, resting his forearms on the table, “I know how to handle myself in places like this. just because I like to keep things casual doesn’t mean I can’t step it up when I need to.”

you tilted your head, studying him. he was a contradiction—a mix of rough edges and sharp wit, seeming to be someone who thrived on chaos yet could navigate moments like this with unsettling ease.

as you racked your brain to try and put the pieces of the puzzle that is Sukuna together, he gazed at you. your cocked head, pursed lips and eyebrows, all of it gave him feelings he didn’t know he could feel. he wanted to pinch your cheeks and take a bite out of you all in the same move.

sure, originally, he had considered his efforts to be a fun little game – something he’d become an expert at. but this time it wasn’t a game he wanted to get a metaphorical trophy for at the end. he wanted to win, and keep winning over and over again. Sukuna’s end goal wasn’t to get you into bed, although he’d already spent much time thinking about what it would be like, but he wanted you to like him. want him. need him.

“so what’s your game, Sukuna?” you asked, deciding to drop the pretense. “you don’t strike me as the ‘dinner date’ type.”

he grinned, leaning in slightly. “maybe I’m just curious.”

“about what?”

“about you.” his tone was teasing, but his crimson eyes betrayed a flicker of something more serious, more genuine. “you don’t make it easy, and I like that.”

you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, but you refused to look away. “curious, huh? that’s a dangerous game to play.”

“good,” Sukuna said, his grin widening. “danger’s where I’m most comfortable.”

though you’d never admit it to him, you were starting to like the way he made you feel: a little off-balance, a little reckless, and very, very alive.

As Sukuna watched you across the table, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. You were trying hard to keep your composure, but he’d already noticed the small tells—how your fingers fidgeted slightly with the edge of your napkin, how you avoided meeting his eyes for too long. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to feed his ego.

Sukuna had always been good at reading people—what made them tick, what made them crumble. With most, it was laughably easy. Flash a smirk, lean in close, say the right thing, and they’d melt like butter. But you? You weren’t impressed by his confidence or his looks. You pushed back, called him out, and never let him feel like he had the upper hand for long.

It was infuriating.

And, strangely enough, addictive.

He watched as your brow furrowed slightly as you studied him. That curious little look you always got when you thought he wasn’t paying attention – it was becoming one of his favorite expressions on you.

“What?” you asked, catching him staring.

“Nothing,” Sukuna said, smirking as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Just wondering what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “If you think flattery’s going to get you anywhere, you’re wasting your time.”

“Who says I’m wasting it?” he shot back, enjoying the way you stiffened slightly. “I’ve got nowhere else I’d rather be.”

And that, to his surprise, was true.

He’d spent years chasing thrills—fights, chaos, women who came and went without leaving so much as a mark. But this? Sitting across from you, trading sharp words and stolen glances, felt different. It wasn’t just the chase that drew him to you. It was the fact that you didn’t back down.

You weren’t scared of him.

You intrigued him in ways he hadn’t expected, and for the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt the thrill of not knowing how something would end.

As the meal went on, he found himself talking more than he usually did, letting slip bits and pieces of himself he hadn’t planned on sharing. He didn’t know why he bothered – maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the way you actually listened, meeting his words with equal parts curiosity and suspicion.

When the plates were cleared and the bill paid, Sukuna stood, offering you his hand. You stared at it for a moment, and he couldn’t help but smirk. “Relax, princess. I don’t bite.” although he wanted to.

an inappropriate response almost slipped past your lips, almost asking him to do just that. “Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered, but you took his hand anyway, letting him pull you to your feet.

As you stepped outside, Sukuna handed you the helmet once more, watching as you adjusted it with that same fiery determination that had hooked him from the start.

Maybe this was dangerous. Maybe you’d be his undoing.

But Sukuna had never been one to back down from a challenge—and you, he realized, were one he didn’t want to win too quickly.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @mangiswig@aldebrana@ravester@marie-is-in-the-dark@makingtimemine @sorahatake @osohchoso @csolya @clp-84 @chosokamoluvr . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna smut

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mryoyo000 · 5 days ago

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Wicked book and musical: on Glinda (SPOILERS)

I waited a bit to write this until hopefully the Discourse™️ has settled a bit but I wanted to say something about Glinda in the novel “Wicked” vs. the musical/movie.

SPOILERS

One thing I’ve seen people talking about regarding the book vs. the show is expressing disappointment regarding Glinda as Maguire depicts her, versus how she is changed for the show. Glinda in the musical follows a fairly typical kind of character arc, beginning as the archetype of a superficial, popularity-obsessed rich girl, who grows in depth and maturity over the course of her life (kickstarted by her relationship with Elphaba) and by the end has become, if not the primary heroine of the musical (which is Elphaba), a character who we see has earned her title as the Good Witch.

I said this in my precious post, but again it bears repeating that “Wicked” the book and “Wicked” the movie have not only completely different target audiences but also completely different goals as stories. I’m not trying to criticize anyone who saw the show or movie first, and felt disappointed by the novel—or really anyone who didn’t care for the novel in general—but I think that some of the criticism the book has gotten recently, after the movie came out, doesn’t take into account that in many ways, the book and the musical are completely different works with the same character names and broad plot outline.

So I’ve seen some people expressing disappointment that in the book, Glinda “regresses”, that she’s racist, that she’s not actually a good person, etc. And I can definitely understand how this rubs people the wrong way—whether in comparison to the show or even just to the Oz books or the 1939 movie in general. Glinda in pop culture is about as synonymous with good as the Wicked Witch of the West is with evil, and seeing her depicted in such an unflattering way is probably not what a lot of people anticipate or necessarily enjoy reading.

(In my previous post I already addressed a different criticism, which is Glinda’s comparative lack of presence in the novel—she’s the POV during Elphaba’s time at Shiz and then largely fades out of the story before a final confrontation. I maintain my stance this is what works for the book, which saves Elphaba’s perspective for the end after showing us all of the people she’s lost first.)

But it is true that in the Maguire book, Glinda’s “goodness” is a cynical punchline for a character who, in her reunion with Elphaba, has become this:

[Glinda speaking] “‘Yes, I had been at an orphanage on the shores of Mossmere, and for a lark I thought I’d go to the game park—they have dragons there now, and I’d never seen a dragon—so I was scarcely a dozen miles away when the storm hit. We had terrible winds even there; I cannot imagine how a ceremony could have been in progress in Center Munch. In Mossmere there were whole sections of the park closed to visitors due to the fear of falling trees and escaping Animals—’ ‘Oh, so they call it a game park, with Animals?’ said the Witch. ‘You must go, dear, it’s a lark…’”

and this

“Glinda turned yellow-pink. ‘My dear,’ she said, ‘I was fond of Fiyero and he was a good man and a fine statesman. But among other things, you will remember he was dark-skinned…’”

Knowing about Elphaba’s history with Dr. Dillamond and general involvement with the cause of Animals makes Glinda’s casual mentions of Animals in game parks that she visits even more unpleasant. And while it is definitely indicated that Glinda was in love with Elphaba, I don’t think her comments about Fiyero here are some sort of deflection to hide her feelings about Elphaba—this would be overly convoluted and anyways Glinda could have denied the suggestion of an affair without making a racist comment.

Glinda here is an archetype that I think many people are familiar with especially in current discussions about society and politics: the idea of the supposedly “benevolent” elite, doing lots of public charity and good PR, while actually aligned with the forces of oppression out of convenience and material benefit. Elphaba explicitly calls her out on this:

“‘You are working in collusion with the Wizard to render Munchkinland ready for annexation,’ said the Witch. ‘You have no agenda of charity, Glinda. At least don’t fool yourself. Or are you really under some rusty spell of Madame Morrible, after all this time?’”

Glinda’s “goodness” in Maguire’s telling is the exact opposite of Elphaba’s “wickedness”—one is rewarded and praised for her participation in the Wizard’s regime where the other is ostracized and eventually treated as a criminal for her attempts to rebel and resist. The book “Wicked” is in some ways a story about failure, and while Elphaba’s lifelong failures are the focus of the story, Glinda adds to that thematic focus—she is yet another disappointment in Elphaba’s life (in addition to Nessarose, and Boq, and her father, and so on) and one that stings in particular because she could have been better. She was better, at one point. And Glinda has failed herself, too.

In the quote above, there is a nod to the suggestion that Glinda and Elphaba’s fate and even their actions as adults may have been influenced by Madame Morrible’s spell. But Glinda herself says to Elphaba: “‘I’m no pawn…you do have some choice.’” In that very same scene, in fact.

I can’t blame people who dislike the novel for being quite cynical and pessimistic in its outlook of humanity, but at the same time that cynicism is what drives a lot of the characterization. Glinda in the novel is not the friend to Elphaba or hero that she is in the musical, and she isn’t meant to be. Viewing the book primarily as a political satire, Glinda fits in well as a parody of a particular kind of figure, and it’s both intriguing (in my opinion) and controversial that Maguire uses a character so strongly associated with goodness to make that point.

#wicked the life and times of the wicked witch of the west #wicked #wicked the musical #wicked the book #wicked spoilers #wicked musical #wicked movie #wicked galinda #galinda #glinda #galinda upland #elphaba #elphaba thropp #overthinking #gregory maguire

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foreverisntenough · 2 months ago

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+ another anon <3

--------- My tiny one shot short below for you 🤍

'Tiny Pink Cakes'

2.9 k words | Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader

↳ Your daughter Teddy Alexander-Arnold comes with you to Trent's England national team game against France in Paris. Your best friend Lauren brings Teddy a sweet treat and she is desperate post match for Trent to get her more.

---------

The stadium lights were still glowing, the energy from the England France game was buzzing in the air. You stood in a suite tucked away in the Parc de Princes with Teddy, waiting for Trent to come up to meet you both after the final whistle. Teddy, full of excitement, couldn’t contain herself any longer. As soon as she spotted daddy, she bolted toward him, her little legs moving as fast as they could.

“Dada!” she yelled, her voice ringing out clear through the noise of the post-game crowd. Trent, spotting his little girl, crouched down, arms open, ready to catch her. He beamed at her as she practically launched herself into his arms.

“C’mere my baby bear,” he greeted warmly, his eyes sparkling with joy at seeing her after the intense match. She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, her face lighting up in a huge grin.

“Dada, want tiny pink cakes, tay?” Before he could say anything else, she pulled back explaining immediately what she wanted. Trent chuckled, raising an eyebrow playfully as he stood up with her still clinging to him.

“Oh, is that all I get? No ‘Hi, Dada, good game?’” he teased. “I thought I did alright tonight, but you're just jumping right into wanting sweets, huh?” He teased. She wasn’t following the sarcasm but she liked the tone and his smile so Teddy giggled at his teasing, squeezing her arms tighter around his neck.

“Tiny pink cakes, dada!” she insisted, completely missing the joke but adamant at what she wanted. Trent let out a groan, pretending to be overly sore from the game as he shifted her weight in his arms.

“Alright, alright, tiny cakes,” he sighed, still teasing her but with a smile that said he was absolutely wrapped around her little finger. “What kind of tiny cakes are we talking about, baby?” She pulled back just enough to give him a serious look, brows furrowed like he should already know.

“Tiny. Pink. Cakes, dada.” she repeated slowly, her tone exasperated that he hadn’t understood the first time. You couldn’t help but laugh, watching this little exchange. Trent gave you a mildly confused look, not entirely understanding what Teddy was on about.

“Oh sorry, baby. So tiny pink cake, huh?” He asked not really following what was going on. You smiled sympathetically at him. Your best friend Lauren had brought some macaroons for Teddy before the game, and she had devoured them. Lauren was from Paris and knew all the best spots and new from her own experience just how much little girls loved these sweets. She did growing up and she wasn’t going to have her niece not experience the joy of French pastries.

“She means macarons, T,” you explained with a grin, stepping closer to the two of them. “Auntie Laur spoiled this greedy girl, and now she wants even more. Been asking all of daddy's game, hmm?” You teasingly cooed tickling Teddy’s tummy. She giggled, going all bashful in an adorable way. Trent nodded confirming.

“Ahhh, macarons. Now I get it,” he said, beginning to tickle Teddy with you lightly, making her squirm and giggle in his arms. “That was so nice of auntie, huh? Were they so yummy, Ted?” He asked her. Teddy’s face lit up at the memory of the pink macarons, her excitement spilling over as she began to babble, stumbling over her words, trying to explain just how incredible the tiny cakes were.

“Dada, most yummy, tay? They so um… um yummy, daddy! They pink and sweet, and—and—like clouds and yummy!” She exclaimed, waving her little hands in the air trying to really get him to properly understand the hype. Trent chuckled, amused by her enthusiasm. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted less than a sweet post match but he’d entertain the craving for her.

“Really? That good, huh?” he teased. “Well, if they were so yummy, how come you didn’t save any for daddy?” He asked her with a sly smirk. Teddy froze, her face falling as the realization hit her. Her tiny, pouty lips parted in a silent gasp, her big eyes widening with guilt. For a moment, she just stared at him, clearly crushed by the thought that she hadn’t saved him any.

“Oh… I sorry, daddy…” she whispered, her little voice barely audible. “But… they were most yummy,” she frowned, feeling disappointed with herself. Not sharing with daddy seemed wrong but the tiny pink cakes were just so good. Trent could hardly hold back his laughter at the way she was so genuinely upset. Before he could comfort her, she quickly perked up, her big eyes gleaming with a new idea. “But! But dada! We get more now?” she asked, her tone hopeful as she tugged at his sleeve. This would be mutually beneficial she got more and daddy wouldn’t be left out. “We get lots and lots! And I give some this time, I pwomise!” He couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head fondly.

“Alright, alright, I guess we’ll have to get more then,” he said, tucking a stay curl behind her ear. “You promise you'll at least give me a bite this time?” He asked her. Teddy beamed, her smile back in full force, and she hugged him tightly around the neck and nodded.

“Tanks Daddy!” she squealed. “You can have lots of bites, tay?” Trent smiled and kissed the top of her head.

“I’ll hold you to that, baby bear. Alright, tiny cakes, let’s go where we can find some more.” Teddy squealed in delight, squirming with excitement. As Trent leaned down to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Mummy’s coming too, right? I’ll need help with this one,” he joked, shifting Teddy on his hip as she kept babbling on about her cakes.

“Of course,” you replied with a smile. “Wouldn’t miss more tiny cakes for the world. Someone didn’t share the yummy sweets with mummy either.” You teased punching at Teddy. Trent dramatically gasped. Teddy giggled cheekily. Trent asked Teddy where she got these beloved cakes but she didn’t know. They just appeared for her from Lauren so Trent asked her if she could be a big girl and go ask her. She nodded determined to get more sweets. He watched as Teddy sprinted across the room, her little legs moving quickly with uncontainable excitement.

“Hey, Teddy girl,” he called after her, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he watched his little girl navigate by herself. She whipped her head around to look back at him impatiently. “Be a good girl and ask Lauren politely please!” He smiled but he was serious about the reminder. Teddy barely registered his words though, her eyes returning to lock onto Lauren, who was chatting with someone. She tugged on Lauren’s jeans, her tiny fingers grasping for attention, practically bouncing on her feet.

“Lawen! Lawen!” she interrupted, her voice bubbling with eagerness. Trent's reminder completely lost. “Where I get tiny pink cakes?!” She asked. Lauren paused mid-conversation, her expression shifting to one of amusement. She looked down at Teddy, who was practically vibrating with impatience.

“Erm… hello to you too sweet girl!” she laughed teasingly, bending down to scoop Teddy up into her arms. “You want more tiny pink cakes? Remember I told you they are called macarons? How about you say ‘macaron’ for me and I’ll tell you, Ted.” She asked Teddy kissing her cheek. Teddy furrowed her brow, a bit confused but excited to play whatever game Lauren was offering if it meant more cakes.

“Maca…macrooni?” Teddy asked confused what the world was.

“Macaron.” Lauren repeated, enunciating clearly, her smile encouraging. Her french accent flowing beautiful. Teddy’s little girl scouse not fully able to keep up.

“Ma-Macaron!” Teddy echoed, her little face scrunching up in concentration as she attempted to mimic the unfamiliar word. She got there.. kind of.

“Very good Ted! incroyable!” Lauren cheered, giving her a playful squeeze. “Now, can you say it again? With a little more French flair for me?” Lauren asked her just dragging this out because it was cute not because Teddy needed to.

“Macaroni!” Teddy exclaimed, her enthusiasm unwavering, though her pronunciation was still a off, maybe getting it slightly confused with the pasta but it’d do for now. She got better and then worse but it was adorable nevertheless.

“Close enough!” Lauren grinned laughing. Teddy giggled, the sound infectious, Teddy whispered under her breath another effort of the word, this time much better than her last. “Parfaite, smart girl!” Lauren said, her eyes sparkling. And so Lauren told Teddy about that little pâtisserie with all the tiny pink cakes she could dream of. Teddy nodded eagerly, her excitement renewed as she hugged Lauren with appreciation.

“Daddy I know nows!” She turned to yell to Trent, glancing back towards you two, her little heart set on getting those cakes. Trent chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief at her persistence. Teddy beamed, her cheeks flushed with delight. “Cakes!” she squealed, ready for more sweets disregarding her lessons in french from Lauren. As Lauren set her down, Teddy rushed back to Trent, her tiny hands tugging on his sleeve. “Daddy, we plebs go now?” She begged.

As Trent held Teddy’s small hand, he guided her carefully up the step into the cafe, making sure she felt steady on her feet. Teddy’s eyes widened as soon as she stepped inside, her little mouth falling open in sheer delight at the sight before her. The display case was filled with a vibrant rainbow of macarons—pinks, blues, greens, yellows, and purples all arranged in perfect rows, gleaming under the café lights. The smell alone was incredible.

“Daddy!” she squealed, her voice a high-pitched burst of excitement, and without thinking, she let go of Trent’s hand to dash toward the counter. He laughed, the sound light and joyful, as he quickly followed her. Her warm tiny hands pressing onto the cool glass.

“Whoa okay! Relax, baby bear,” he teased, pinching her tummy playfully as he caught up to her. “Which color should we get, beautiful girl? Pink?” He cooed gently, squatting down next to her pressing the side of his cheek to hers.

“All of them Dadddyy!” Teddy shouted, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as she turned to look at him, beaming from ear to ear. Trent shook his head, a grin on his face.

“Greedy, greedy girl!” he said with a chuckle before planting a soft kiss on her cheek. She giggled, her happiness infectious, and her laughter echoing around the small cafe. In that moment, Teddy spun around and turned her big, wide eyes toward you.

“Mama! What macaroni you get?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity, her excitement still bubbling over. Even in her enthusiasm, there was that sweet thoughtfulness that you loved so much about her. She always wanted to make sure everyone was included and having fun. With a smile, you knelt down beside them, looking at the array of colors.

“Hmm, I think I might get a brown one. It matches my outfit” you replied, pretending to ponder the decision seriously but thinking your decision was sound in your tan knit jumper. “What do you think?” You asked her and her brow furrowed unimpressed, silently asking why you would want arguably the worst color there. You smirked being able to read your daughter. “Or what if I getttt.” You sang reinspecting the pastries. “Oooo what about blue, baby?” You giggled a little bit, hoping that might be a better choice for her.

“Blue? Ooooh! I wan a blue too, mama!” Teddy squealed, clapping her hands together. She leaned over the counter, her little fingers pointing eagerly at the colorful display. “Daddy, we get two blue, pleabs?”

“Alright, two blue for my girls.” Trent said, running his hand over her hair “Let’s get those for mummy and Teddy and maybe we try one of every other color too for daddy and Ted. What do you think?” Trent cooed and Teddy lit up, eyes wide with a squeal and a hug. You shook your head. She was so spoiled by him. Trent picked her up, Teddy not letting go of the greatest dad on earth. As they made their way to the counter, the excitement in the air was palpable. You watched as Trent and Teddy chat with the barista, pointing at various macarons, your heart swelling with warmth at the sight of them together. It was moments like these that made everything feel right, and you couldn’t help but smile.

And so, too many tiny cakes later you gently wiped a stray crumb from Teddy’s face, her small body leaning into yours as she dozed off, stomach full from the macaron feast. Her soft, warm breath brushed against your neck as you cradled her, your arms wrapped protectively around her. Her tiny pout was parted slightly, eyes fluttering with the drowsiness of someone in the depths of a sugar-induced nap. Trent sat across from you, watching the two of you with a tender smile, clearly savoring the peacefulness of the moment. You couldn’t resist leaning down to press a playful kiss to her chubby cheek, exaggerating the sound to make her giggle, but she barely stirred.

“Did you thank Daddy for your tiny pink cakes, baby?” you whispered, kissing her again, this time with a teasing little ‘nom’ sound like you were about to nibble her. She had inside but again wouldn't hurt. Teddy’s eyelids flickered open, her long lashes batting against her cheeks as she stared up at you in confusion, still half-asleep.

“Mama, they’re macaronis” She blinked a few times before correcting you in a tired but determined voice. You stifled a giggle, raising your eyebrows in mock surprise.

“Oh, right! Macarons. My mistake, smart girl” you said, laughing softly. Satisfied with your correction, Teddy, her little body still draped lazily in your arms, turned her sleepy gaze to Trent.

“Tanks, Daddy,” her voice a little more alert now, but still so sweet. She offered him a small but sincere thank you. Trent’s smile deepened, and he leaned forward, reaching out to stroke her cheek.

“You’re welcome, my baby bear,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. His eyes flicked to you, catching your gaze, and for a moment, you both shared a look of pure contentment, the kind that only comes with these rare, quiet family moments. “Ted, which one was your favorite?” he asked, his voice teasing but curious, knowing how much she had enjoyed the colorful display of macarons earlier. Teddy, still nestled comfortably in your arms, took a moment to respond, her sleepy mind working through the question.

“Pink… but too many, dada,” Finally, she answered in a soft, thoughtful voice. Her little hand splayed across her chubby tummy. Her tiny face scrunched up adorably, and you couldn’t help but smile at the honesty of her confession. Trent chuckled, shaking his head.

“Alright, no more macarons for my Teddy girl,” he teased with a tickle to her full tummy, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead. But before his lips could reach her, Teddy lifted her head just slightly, her eyes opening wider in protest.

“No more… just for a tiny bit,” she corrected, her voice serious as if she was striking a very important deal. You and Trent exchanged amused glances before laughing quietly together. Trent pressed a kiss to her forehead, this time successfully, his love for her evident in every gentle touch.

“Alright, alright, just for a tiny bit,” he agreed, his voice soft and indulgent, as though he’d give her the world if she asked for it. You felt your heart swell as you watched him with her, the tenderness between them radiating like sunlight. Moments like these were golden, fleeting but unforgettable, and you never wanted to forget the warmth that filled the air, the way Trent’s eyes lit up every time Teddy giggled or how his protective hand rested on your back as you all sat together. Still smiling, you kissed Teddy’s soft cheek once more, and as you did, she turned toward you, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck.

“I love you, Mama,” she whispered sleepily, her voice muffled as she buried her face in your shoulder.

“I love you too, baby,” you whispered back, holding her close. Trent watched the two of you, his heart full, and leaned in to kiss the top of your head.

“I love both my pretty girls,” he said softly, wrapping his arm around you and Teddy, pulling you both close. As the quiet moments settled, you rested your head against Trent’s shoulder, Teddy secure in your arms. Trent reached across Teddy for one of the leftover macarons, popping it into his mouth with a grin. As he chewed, his words came out muffled, “These are actually quite good you know,” his voice a little garbled through a mouthful of dessert. You couldn’t help but giggle, amused by his indulgence .

“They live up to the hype?” you asked teasing, watching as Teddy, still half-asleep in your arms, suddenly perked up. Trent hummed. She sat up, her eyes wide as she nodded along vigorously, agreeing with Trent.

“Dada, I told!” she declared, her voice still soft with lingering sleep but filled with pride. You smoothed your hand over her hair with a smile, the sight of both of them enjoying something as simple as macarons filling your heart. Trent’s playful wink in your direction made you chuckle again, as Teddy leaned over and pointed at the pink one in the box. “Pink best,” she said seriously, as if passing down a sacred secret. Trent chuckled, grabbing the pink one. she had singled out and without hesitation popped it into his mouth. Teddy giggled, her tiny hand resting on his arm as she watched him expectantly. As Trent chewed, his eyebrows lifted in mock surprise.

“Mmm wow, so yummy, Ted. You’re right, baby. Pink is the best.” He smiled, his voice playful but full of warmth. Teddy beamed at him, her tiredness momentarily forgotten as she hugged him tightly. You watched the two of them, your heart swelling with a sense of contentment. These little sweet moments—macarons, giggles, and shared glances—were the ones that mattered most. The two loves of your life as sweet as the tiny pink cakes.

⇨ Read other ForeverIsntEnough work here!

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagines

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littlemissmentallyunstable · 5 months ago

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title: look after my heart

pairing: nash hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: you and nash have been together for a long while now and you’re insanely in love, but circumstance forces you apart

warnings:

a/n: nash is so underrated 🤍🤍 thanks for reading

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @peterlcsingwendy @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77

We agreed to meet up at 10 o’clock but I was there at half past nine. I needed that time to put things into perspectives, the analyse all the what-if scenario is one by one. Nash was my everything. And my everything might be taken away from me. Nash was a Hawthorne, a grandson to a very rich and powerful man, an heir, if you will, to a fortune. And I was nothing in comparison. I was a normal girl, living in a pretty regular house, with nothing too special or extraordinary about her. You can see how it might’ve gone down when he revealed to his family that we were together. At 10 o’clock tonight everything would change. For better or for worse I didn’t know. And I wish I’d never have found out.

I noticed a figure approaching. I could tell by the way he walked that it was him right away. I stood up under the lamp post and waited until he reached me. He came into the light and I saw it in his face before he even opened his mouth. My heart slowly sank in my chest and the lump grew quickly in my throat.

“It’s okay,” I said softly, taking a step towards him.

I knew it was anything but okay. But I had to say something. He shook his head. He couldn’t meet my eye. I waited silently until he was ready. He looked at me, his hazel eyes full of the most gut-wrenching pain. I couldn’t bear to stare at them but I forced myself to. I had to be strong. For Nash.

“My grandfather made it you or my family,” he told me, his voice was hoarse and taut, it was unfamiliar for me to hear him like this, “I either run from it all with you and stay and never see you again.”

“It’s okay,” I repeated, taking his hands into mine. He grasped them so tightly, his knuckles went white and my hands filled with blood.

“I can’t leave my brothers, I can’t walk out and leave them with what I had to deal with,” he said, his voice breaking, “no one deserves to deal with that.”

I nodded, swallowing back the tears. I kept reminding myself the same few words. I had to stay strong. For Nash. If I cried then it would make it even harder and that just wasn’t fair. He didn’t need me to make this any harder than it already was.

“But I can’t leave you,” he choked out, “because I don’t think I’ve ever loved anything more than I love you. It would be like someone ripping a chunk of my heart out.”

“Oh Nash,” I murmured, my voice growing a little shaky.

“It’s an impossible decision,” he said, the strain in his voice tugging at my heartstrings.

“That’s why I’m making it for you,” I said, biting the inside of my cheek, “you need to stay with you brothers, you need to forget about me, let go and move on.”

“No,” he shook his head, glossy eyed, “no I’m finding another way.”

“We both know,” I murmured softly, “that there isn’t another way.”

There was a beat. The truth had been spoken and both of us hated it. But neither of us could change it.

“I can’t leave you,” he insisted, letting a single tear roll down his cheek, “I can’t.”

“You have to,” I sniff, my fingers trembling.

There was a deathly silence and each fraction of each moment killed me softly. Torturing my already wounded heart. I didn’t understand why the world was so cruel, who gave it the right? I didn’t understand why for once things couldn’t go my way. I finally had found someone who loved me like no one had ever loved me before and now it was being robbed from me too. Those thoughts made me feel so selfish, so conflicted, but how could I not be? My bones began to ache as the wind began to whistle and the silence was not so silent anymore.

“You’re not angry at me,” he said, “why aren’t you angry at me?”

“How could I be angry at something that’s out of your hands?” I asked him gently.

“I don’t want to do this but…” he trailed off, unable to carry on, his voice too unsteady, too broken.

“You have to, for the sake of your brothers, I know,” I attempted to comfort him.

“I-“ he went to say something but can’t get his words out. His face contorts into a look of agony and he began to sob. There were very few times I’d seen Nash cry and when he had it had never been like this. I wrapped my arms around his shaking body and guided him to where I’d previously been sitting. I held him closely and let him break down in my arms. That was the most heart breaking thing I’ve ever had to do. I couldn’t amend his agony because I was the cause.

It was like I felt his pain running through me. It hurt me to see him this hurt. Every time his body shook, my chest constricted. Tears freely now ran down my face. I had to be strong but this was what strong was at the moment. Sometimes letting yourself fall apart is strong.

“I understand Nash, really I do,” I whispered, playing with strands on his hair to distract my sorrowful mind.

He didn’t reply and I had a chance to wipe my eyes and pull myself together a little so Nash couldn’t see that if fallen apart too. After a few moments he sat up, tear stained face, eyes red and puffy. He looked so unlike the strong Nash I knew and yet I fell in love all over again in the same moment. My heart was tied to his.

“I never deserved you, not for a second,” he shook his head, eyes connected to mine.

“No,” I shook my head, my voice thick with emotion, “that’s not true.”

“I’m sorry, I wish there was a way,” he rasped.

“It’s not your fault,” I said. His eyes immediately hit the floor, guilty practically flooded out of him.

“Hey,” I snapped, “Nash. Look at me.”

His eyes met mine. Sparks ignited all the way through my body.

“It’s not your fault,” I told him firmly.

Nash blamed himself for most things, I knew that better than anyone. He needed someone to really drill it in to him for him to believe it. And even after that, more often than not he still would blame himself. It was the way that stupid grandfather of his had brought him up to believe. I often used to wonder how someone so kind hearted, so loving could have been raised by someone so cruel.

“I don’t want to do this to you,” he told me, cupping my face in his palms.

His touch is killing me and he doesn’t know it. I know he’s never going to touch me like this again. I know I’ll never feel the comfort of his gentle hands grazing my face. But I have to stay strong. For Nash.

“You don’t have that kind of choice and I know that,” I said, drawing soft spirals across his face

“He shouldn’t have this much power,” he practically growls, taking his hands from my face and throwing them down, clasping them anxiously within each other.

“But he does and neither of us can help that, there’s no point in getting angry over things we can’t control, okay?” I soothed, rubbing the top of his arms.

“Okay,” he blew a breath out, “…okay.”

He looked as if he wanted to stay something else but couldn’t quite get the words out. He attempted to pull himself together but I could see it broke him further. Silent tears rolled down his face, the lamplight making them glisten in a horribly beautiful way.

“You don’t need to find any more words,” I told him, “I promise you, I understand.”

I cupped his face in my hands and wiped away his tears gently with my thumb. He looks into my eyes, pain shining through his.

“I love you,” he whispered, his lips quivering a little.

“I love you too,” I replied.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I’m so awfully sorry.”

“Shhhh stop apologising, you dont need to apologise,” I smiled through my pain, placing a finger on his lips. They’re velvety soft as always. I took in the moment and memorised that feeling and held onto it in my heart.

He stood up, causing my hand to drop. He extended a hand and guided me up with him. His hands coiled around the small of my waist. And I think in that moment he was the only thing holding me together.

He kissed me softly. Tenderly. Passionately.

We both knew how sacred these last moments were. We’d have to leave on another soon. His lips were so natural on mine. I closed my eyes, making it last a long as I could. Painting a memory in my mind, and burning it into the side of my brain to be sure I would never forget. Never forget these feelings, these kisses… I didn’t want to stop. Ever. I could feel the love radiating off of us each time our lips touched.

“I will never forget you,” Nash mumbled between kisses.

I breathed out shakily and stopped the kissing for a second. I stared dead into his sparkling hazel eyes and told him, “one day you’re going to find another girl, someone who is so beautiful and sweet and funny who you love more than anything, and you’re going to marry her and she’ll have your babies and your grandfather won’t be able to keep you apart.”

“I thought that girl was you,” he choked, emotion ripping back through his voice.

“Not in this story,” I shook my head, biting my lip to stop the tears from falling.

“Then one day you’ll find a boy who can give you everything I couldn’t, who treats you like you’re his whole world and more,” he said to me, hands tightening on my waist.

“You already did that for me,” I whimpered, my bottom lip trying not to tremble and failing.

“If I had, then why are we here?” he asked.

“Unfortunate circumstance,” I explained, tears freely rolling down my cheeks. My strength was wavering, my agony was winning and I couldn’t hold my pain in anymore, “maybe we weren’t meant to be.”

“You don’t mean that,” Nash said.

He knew me too well.

“No I don’t,” I agreed, “but it’s more comforting to think of it like that.”

His pressed his forehead onto mine. Our eyes were glued to each other and I wished I could’ve paralysed time, like time paralysed my ability to love after that. I wished I could’ve frozen us there and then so nothing ever changed. But that was not possible.

“I will never stop loving you,” he said, raw passion in the back of his voice.

“I will never stop loving you too,” I told him.

“This is where we let go,” he murmured.

“This is where we let go,” I confirmed.

“Goodbye,” he whispered, placing one last kiss on my lips. The sweetest kiss, laced with salty tears.

“Goodbye,” I said, in barely a whisper. It was all I could muster, all I had left.

I nodded at him softly, telling him it was time and he slowly turned his back on me. He walked away into the darkness of the night, looking back over his shoulder at me just standing there. Every cell in my body screamed for me to run towards him, fling my arms around him and beg for him to stay. But I didn’t. Because that would’ve broken him even more than he’s already been broken. And he does not deserve that.

“Look after my heart Nash Westbrook Hawthorne,” I whispered into the nothingness, the wind carrying my forgotten words to some far off place, where they’d probably never be heard.

a/n: credit to @sister-lucifer for the divider

TIG masterlist

#bella writes 🤍#nash hawthorne x you #nash hawthorne #nash hawthorne x reader #nash tig #the inheritance games #tig #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #tgg #the grandest game #grayson hawthorne #the hawthorne legacy #love to write #writing

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maidragoste · 2 years ago

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Mistake

Age up!Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader (Daeron's twin sister)

Summary: Your encounter with Jacaerys has consequences and now you are pregnant with his bastard in the middle of the war.

Part two of “I miss you”

A/N: Honestly Jacaerys doesn't appear in this but I promise he will in the next part. The next part will probably be the last and I'll try not to take as long as it takes to post this one (I had most of these written months ago but every time I had to continue writing it made me sad for Reader). Finally, I hope you like it 🥰🥰💞💞

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

At first, you didn't find it strange when your moon blood didn't come. The truth has never been regular. It had happened to you before that it didn't come for a month and the other it did, that's why you didn't worry. But when another moon passed and your sheets were still clean, you began to fear that you were pregnant. Your fears were confirmed when you started having nausea and vomiting in the mornings. You didn't even have time to come up with a plan because your servants went to tell your mother about your condition and she soon appeared in your chambers with the maester.

"Princess, you are pregnant" the maestre confirmed what you already knew.

"Is there no chance of getting rid of the child?" Alicent asked, taking you by surprise.

"Mother!" you screamed in horror and with tears in your eyes. You knew your mother would be furious but it never occurred to you that she would force you to get rid of the baby.

"I'm afraid, your grace, that if we give her the moon tea there is a chance that the princess will not be able to have children in the future."

"Thank you, master. You may retire,” Alicent said and the man gave you a pitying look before leaving.

Once they were alone, you got on your knees and took your mother's hands "Sorry, mother" you apologized through tears, it hurt to see the disappointment on her face, she had never looked at you like that before "Sorry. Sorry, sorry ”you repeated trembling and kissed her hands. You expected some comfort, a caress on the cheek, or even a touch on the hair but nothing. She just kept looking at you. You would have always been the apple of her eye along with Helaena but now you were trouble.

You apologized for letting her down, and for failing her and your brother. You knew that you were an important piece in the war, you were a dragon rider and with your hand, they could win the support of some important house but now no one would marry you while you were pregnant nor could you go to fight in your condition. You apologized because you knew that if you could go back in time you would sleep with Jacaerys again, you were selfish, you loved him.

"Mother, please say something" you begged, unable to bear her silence anymore.

Alicent released her grip and moved away from you. You bit your lip to keep from letting out a sob. You weren't used to cold treatment from your mother. But for now, it would be the only thing you would receive. For a moment you thought about your father, how he would react if he were alive, he would probably be furious too but you thought that the moment he saw you cry he would take you in his arms and tell you that everything would be fine. He would surely have broken Baela and Jacaerys' engagement so that Jace would marry you.

"You will stay in your chambers until further notice" your mother informed you, taking you out of your imagination, and she left your chambers without bothering to look at you again.

Once you were alone you burst into tears and hugged yourself. You didn't know how long you had been crying, you felt that your throat was burning and your knees were starting to hurt so you should get up or the pain would be but you didn't care. You just wanted someone by your side, you didn't want to be alone, so when you heard the door open you couldn't help but look hopeful. They were your brothers. But you felt your heart drop at the sight of Aemond. In his eye, there was nothing but fury.

"He forced you? Did he force himself on you?" asked the prince taking you by the jaw. You shook your head while the tears came out non-stop from your eyes "Tell me!" you sobbed as he increased his strength.

"I slept with Jacaerys because I wanted to" you confessed between trembling and closing your eyes to avoid seeing your brother's face. You were scared, for the first time you had Aemond do something to you. He had never acted like this with you before, you always witnessed how another was the victim of his anger but this time you were the one who disappointed him.

"Aemond, let her go" you heard your older brother's voice "She's scared"

You felt like years passed until you felt Aemond loosen his grip on her "It's okay, sister" he kissed your forehead and stood up "The bastard will pay for bringing you this disgrace"

"Aemond, what will you do?" You asked scared and wanting to follow him but Aegon took you in his arms "Aemond!" you screamed with a broken voice when you saw him leave the room.

"Don't worry, sister" said the king while you cried and clung to him "Everything will be fine, I'm going to legitimize your son"

••••••

The following months were hell for you. You never left your room. Your family did not want anyone at court to know about your condition, much less for the news to reach the Blacks. So they kept you locked in your rooms, and the only company you had were the maids but they weren't great company because they barely entered your room just to feed you and also never spoke to you, they couldn't since none of them had a tongue. Your sanity hung by a thread, exactly on the maester's visits. He was the only person you could talk to, you knew that the old man felt sorry for you because sometimes he extended the visits just so that you could talk to someone. For a while Aegon had also come to visit you, he always consoled you and distracted you, he told you some story about his drunkenness or about some gossip that you had. It didn't matter how many times you asked him about what was happening with your family, the war and Jacaerys but he never answered you. You were afraid that your questions made him angry because one day he stopped showing up.

Sometimes you prayed that your baby would look like Jacaerys because you missed him so much and longed to see his eyes again. But other times you prayed to the gods that the baby would look like you, maybe if your child is born with your hair and Targaryen eyes then your family will forgive you and let you go. For that reason, you were anxious to give birth again but at the same time, you were afraid. You were afraid of doing this alone without Jacaerys, you were afraid that something would go wrong and you would never have had a chance to say goodbye to your lover. You were afraid of dying and leaving your child alone, you didn't know what your family would do with your baby, they could kill it and Jacaerys would never know that you two had a child.

Most nights you dreamed of Jacaerys and your son. You dreamed of an excited Jace choosing a dragon egg to put in front of her son's cradle. You dreamed of Jace singing to the baby to calm him down. You dreamed of him introducing Vermax to the baby. You dreamed of the first flight of the three together. You dreamed of Jace trying to teach his son how to say “kepa” and “muña” even though his High Valyrian is terrible. You wished more than anything that one of those dreams would come true one day. But after being locked up for months you didn't think it would ever happen. If you survive the birth, you would have to raise your child alone within the four walls of your chambers. That if your family allows you after all for them your baby is a mistake.

taglist: @pictureofcaroline @sidneyyyya @minaxcarter @targaryenmoony @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @lizlovecraft @natashaobo @krokietino @nyenye @savagemickey03 @missusnora @sabi127 @buckysmainhxe @impartinghades @papichulo120627 @bxdbxtxh15 @rebelliuna @fluffiy @lauufeysonnn @thanya-targaryen @nzygftoji @camy85 @misty-q @bellstwd @

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 8 months ago

Text

The Dangers of Hope Epilogue

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: None.

Word Count: 5,849

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: So this is it, the epilogue, the end. I'm so sad to say goodbye to this series. I've really loved writing it, even if it kicked my ass a couple of times. I know I've said this already, but it definitely bears repeating - I'm so unbelievably grateful for the love and support you've all shown this series. Thanks so much - and I hope you enjoy this little peak into Dean and Y/N's lives a decade later. This ended up about twice as long as I'd planned. Lol! Enjoy! ❤️

Main Master List || Series Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

Spring, 10 Years Later

The rumbling engine of the Impala was silenced as Dean pulled into the garage and parked Baby in her spot. The camp had eight cars now, so they'd had to expand the garage two summers before. The cars got shuffled around all the time, but Baby always kept her spot on the end. Everyone knew it was her spot.

The late afternoon sun shone in through the garage windows as Dean removed the keys from the ignition and pushed them back into his black, denim jacket pocket.

Sam was sitting beside him and shot him a questioning look when Dean didn't immediately jump out. “Dean?”

Dean nodded and then looked over at his little brother. “Do you think I did the right thing?”

Sam sighed. He'd already answered this question from his brother, in various forms, three or four times.

The Deerling Survivors Camp, a small camp located almost seventy miles away, had sent a message to Dean a week earlier, requesting a face-to-face meeting. Dean had asked Sam to come along and they'd stayed overnight at the fledgling camp. The pseudo-leader there, just a young kid who’d been thrust into the role, had asked them to let Deerling join Camp Chitaqua, and after seeing the shape of the camp, Dean had agreed on the spot.

Years earlier the four smaller camps surrounding Chitaqua had joined them, expanding the camp by miles and miles and raising the population by more than two hundred people. It had been a big decision, and Dean had consulted with the council for a couple days before agreeing to the expansion.

It was a very good decision in the end, since they now had enough land to plant six, four acre farm plots. They made sure to rotate crops, leaving one field fallow every season and using it for grazing pasture. But all that fertile land meant that the campers all had plenty of fresh vegetables. Their expanded size also allowed them to enlarge their barn, so they could now house and care for four cows and a bull, two horses, dozens of chickens, a rooster, two pigs, and eight sheep.

They'd bartered and traded with other camps for most of their animals or found them wandering around alone and unclaimed. But they bought their sheep from a farmer living in what used to be Iowa. A lot of farmers had started over there, scratching out a new life from the soil, now that the world had started turning once again.

Seven years ago they'd finally succeeded in producing a vaccine. It had taken a lot of hard work. For three years, every single person that worked on it did so with nothing more than a promise of a better tomorrow.

It had taken another two plus years to get the word and the vaccine out to people, but now most of the population was vaccinated. The vaccine had also been carried overseas. They couldn't be sure how things were going across the pond because communication was still very limited. But they'd heard rumors that it was going well.

Some infrastructure was up and running again; they had electricity in some places, and some cities had running water again. There were even some places that had phone lines connected - in and around the bigger cities where people were beginning to congregate.

Things seemed to be progressing quickly out west in the former California, where they'd reportedly started broadcasting some form of Television again. Not very many people had TVs anymore to watch, but it seemed comforting to people just to know something resembling their former lives was returning.

Not everything was perfect, of course. There was no centralized government, or structured, widespread laws. Most areas had variations of camps like Chitaqua with leaders in charge, or occasionally small, internally elected governments that ran the camp. Lawlessness still existed in a lot of places, but it was being beaten further back every day as groups banded together.

There were also still some areas that were uninhabitable because massive groups of Croats still roamed there. The researchers that had created the vaccine were working on a cure for those who’d already been infected, but thus far they’d proved unsuccessful. Croat attacks still happened sometimes, but the vaccine meant that people just had to deal with the bite itself, making sure it was healing properly - something that was becoming easier as medical stations were springing up in and around larger populations as well, as doctors went back to healing people as they’d been trained to do.

Chitaqua had a physician, Dr. Turner, who lived in the camp. The Medical Tent was no more and instead the doctor’s office and their cache of medical supplies were now housed in a big log structure that had been tiled inside to keep it as clean and sanitary as possible. Patrick was happy to be rid of guard duties these days, working alongside Dr. Turner to watch over the health and well-being of the campers.

There weren’t many tents left nowadays either. They had a bunch stored away in case the camp ended up with a big influx of new campers and temporary housing was needed. But most people lived in log cabins of varying sizes, dotted over the two and a half square miles of the camp. There were well over five hundred people in the camp now, since amalgamating the four other camps. They also had a reputation for being a prosperous, strong community, so people tended to migrate there as well - which continued to add to their numbers.

Now, after the meeting with the Deerling camp, they’d be adding another ninety-six people to their ranks, inflating their population to nearly seven hundred people. Dean was worried about the fact that he’d made the decision to absorb the smaller camp without consulting the council this time.

The council was a group made up of eight other people besides Dean. Sam and Y/N were on it, as well as Brandy, Risa, Dr. Turner, and three other campers who were there representing the hunters, the farmers and the builders.

Day-to day decisions were still handled by Dean, but he relied on the council for other bigger decisions - taking their thoughts, ideas and opinions into account before he ultimately made a decision. Agreeing to take in another flock of people and develop another thirty acres of land was definitely one of those big decisions he’d normally take to the council, which was why, Sam knew, Dean had been second guessing his unilateral decision to say yes to Deerling’s request.

Sam shook his head at his brother as he answered Dean’s worry again. “Dean, you acted out of generosity, the council will understand. I can vouch for the fact that those campers need a lot of help very quickly. Those kids were starving, you could see that.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I know, but I just brought the camp more strain on resources with no benefits.”

Sam shrugged. “Well, there’s the land.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, unfarmable land that’s separated from us by almost eighty miles. And Brisbane camp sits between us and Deerling, and they already think we’re trying to take them over. Joining with a group on the other side of them is gonna make them even more suspicious and possibly turn them unfriendly.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I should have consulted the council.”

“Dean, there’s no way the council would have opted to just let a bunch of kids and sick people die. They’re definitely going to agree with your decision, and this way you’ve simply ensured that we can get food and medicine out to them by tomorrow instead of making them wait days for it. Trust me, you made the right decision.”

Dean grunted his response, still unsure.

Sam slapped the back of his hand against Dean’s shoulder. “Now, I’m gonna go talk with the Doc about getting supplies together and coming out there with me tomorrow. Will you talk with Brandy later about food?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah.” A smile finally lit his face. “And then I’m goin’ home.”

Sam smiled and opened his door to climb out of the Impala. “Good plan. Give Y/N and the kids a kiss for me.”

Dean climbed out too and slammed his door behind him. He called Sam back as his brother began to walk away.

“We should also figure out a time and day to have a sit down with the new leader from Brisbane, talk with her about our intentions regarding Deerling. She’s tough, but she seems more approachable and level-headed than their last leader. Maybe we can convince her we’re not looking to take anything over.”

Sam nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

Dean frowned. “What’s her name again?”

“Eileen Leahy.”

Dean noticed his brother’s cheeks turn pink and he immediately turned back into an annoying big brother, his grin wide.

“Right, right, you met with her alone last time. She’s cute, huh? Something we should know? Maybe you should invite her over to our place for dinner next week. We can have our little sit down conversation then. What do you think?”

Sam had already turned and started walking away. “You’re an idiot!” He called back over his shoulder. But Dean made a mental note to tell Y/N all about it later.

With Y/N firmly in mind he started out across the camp. Their cabin was situated on top of a low hill in the Southwest section of the camp, not all that far from where their old red tent used to sit.

They’d built their cabin when they came back to Chitaqua eight years ago after helping to set up the research facility. The vaccine was still a year away, but they’d done all they could do and they were ecstatic that after two years of traveling back and forth from camp, gathering doctors, researchers and searching for other psychic kids, (they’d only found two others) and after Y/N had given gallons of her blood to science, they could finally come home for good.

Not long after returning home, Y/N realized she was pregnant and Dean became obsessed with building them a beautiful home. It was around that time that the camps had all joined together and building homes for everyone became a priority of the camp.

The builders grew in numbers as they took on apprentices and taught them the trade so that more people in the camp could join in the work. It took almost four years of constant building, but eventually all five hundred plus campers had permanent homes.

Gotta pull the tents out for the Deerling folks, Dean thought as he walked, his mind immediately occupied with figuring out the logistics of where the new campers could stay, and how they could join in the life of the camp, once they were all healthy.

He stopped by Food Storage and spoke with Brandy as Sam had requested. And just as his brother had suspected, when he explained the situation, Brandy was one council member who was very glad he’d made the decision he had. He felt more sure now that the others would feel the same.

As Dean wound his way through camp he got stopped quite a few times, people wanting to talk with him about one concern or another. He generally pointed them in the direction of the person or group in the camp that could help them. But he also got stopped by friends wanting to say hi and talk for a moment or two.

He was happy to talk, but anxious to get home to Y/N.

He looked out towards the large school building where Y/N still taught every day. The new building had been built on the site where the main cabin had been burned down. It was even bigger than the old cabin, with six rooms for the seven teachers that worked there now.

Y/N was also the principal of the school for all intents and purposes; she and the other teachers taught over two hundred kids from ages five to sixteen. Theresa had finished school and immediately joined the staff as a teacher, working with Y/N every day and loving it. Brandy was so proud.

But Dean wasn’t surprised to see the building empty now, however; he knew it was a day off. He picked up his pace, weaving through the buildings that resided where the old tents had taken up space.

They’d greatly expanded the food storage, and had an entirely different rations system now that fresh vegetables, fruit, fish and game made up the vast majority of their diet. Brandy was still in charge and was constantly innovating to make things easier and to stretch their food as far as they could in order to feed everyone.

The former tent area also housed three large storage sheds, a small building that worked as an office/meeting space for whatever group needed to use it, and a small mill where they processed the wheat they grew - that process had included a steep learning curve, but they’d eventually made it work.

There was also a small, open area where a kind of market had popped up organically as the campers traded amongst themselves for things like homemade jewelry, homemade clothes, and other non-essentials.

He walked behind the buildings and began climbing the gently rising path that led to their cabin at the top of the hill. About halfway home he heard loud barking and looked up to see their seven year old Bernese-Husky cross, Clifford, bounding towards him, the way he usually did when any of the family came home.

“Hey, boy.” Dean said softly, scratching him behind the ears. “Miss me?”

Clifford barked happily in answer and ran ahead and then back to where Dean stood, obviously urging him on towards home. Dean laughed and sped up, chasing after the big dog who sometimes still acted like a puppy.

As the path through the trees ended, opening up into their wide front yard, Dean sighed deeply. “Home sweet home.” He murmured.

Even though he'd been away less than two days, he was still so happy to be home. He felt the peace that filled him up every time he stepped around the last bend in the path and caught sight of their home in the distance.

The way smoke curled lazily from the chimney and the scent of something delicious wafted through the half open Dutch door, never failed to make him ache to get his arms around his wife and bask in her light. Dean shook his head at his sentimental thoughts, but hurried his pace to get inside.

As he drew closer however, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he turned his head to see his son walking East, coming out from behind the house. Dean figured he was heading over to his friend Freddie's, and he was about to continue on into the cabin, but then he noticed what his eight-year-old was holding in his hand.

“Gabriel Eric Winchester!”

Dean's voice bellowed out, freezing the young boy where he stood. Dean strode towards him, anger clear on his face. To the boy's credit, even when he turned and saw his father's anger, he still walked forward slowly, until he was standing directly in front of him.

The gun he held, however, was tucked just behind his back, as though he was hoping Dean hadn't noticed it.

Dean held his hand out. “Give that to me this second.”

Gabe's face fell and he brought the gun forward reluctantly, dropping it onto Dean's palm.

Dean immediately checked to make sure the small, .38 caliber, Smith and Wesson revolver was unloaded and when he saw it was, he held it in his fist, directly in front of Gabe's eyes.

“What the hell do you think you're doing with this?”

His son's eyes were wide and they got watery quickly.

He shrugged. “I was just gonna bring it to Freddie's. Josh said he could teach us to shoot.” He said, referring to his friend’s older brother. “Just cans on a fence.” He was quick to reassure Dean.

“And did you ask your mother if you could remove a gun from the weapons chest?” Dean asked, already well aware of the answer.

Gabe shook his head. “No.” He said quietly.

“How did you get it?” Dean asked brusquely.

Gabriel’s voice was still soft as he admitted what he’d done. “I grabbed it yesterday when mom took out a rifle to scare away some raccoons that were trying to get into the compost. Josh said he could teach us if we had guns. So when I saw it last night I just…” He trailed off as he looked up at Dean's face.

“So what you're telling me,” Dean said quietly, “is that while your mother's back was turned you STOLE a gun and planned to use it without asking either of us for permission.”

Gabe's tears spilled down his cheek at his father's disappointed tone and accurate words. He nodded and then sniffed.

“I'm sorry.” He said thickly.

Dean crouched down so he could look his son in the eye. “Gabe, a gun is not a toy. I thought you knew this. It's not something to mess around with or use on a whim. It is a weapon. It's incredibly dangerous. If you'd gone off and started shooting, even just at cans, you could have seriously hurt or killed yourself or your friends. Do you understand me?”

Gabe nodded but bit his lip. “But you carry a gun.” He said, pointing to the ever present gun strapped to Dean’s thigh. “And you started using guns when you were even younger than me. I heard you talking about it to mom before. And I…” He sniffled again. “I just wanted to be like you.”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Oh, buddy, I want you to be so much more than me. Your mom and I, we've worked really hard to make things better for you guys, to make the world safer so that when you grow up, hopefully you won’t have to walk around with a gun strapped to you at all times. It’s my job to protect the people in this camp. That’s why I carry a gun, and why I sometimes carry a rifle. But that’s not your job. Your job is to just be a little boy.”

Dean saw Gabriel pout a bit about being called a little boy. He smiled gently and squeezed his son’s shoulders. “Trust me, buddy, you should enjoy being a kid, don’t try to grow up too quickly.”

Gabe nodded begrudgingly and Dean pulled his son in for a hug. After a moment, he pulled back from him and stood up straight again, before nodding towards the cabin. “Go to your room now until supper, and when you come out, you’ll owe your mother an apology for going behind her back. Also, nothing but school and home for a week, do you understand?”

Gabe looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it when Dean gave him a stern look. “Yes, sir.” He said in acceptance and turned to run into the cabin.

“Gabriel!” Dean called. When his son turned back, the tear tracks on his grubby cheeks still visible, Dean spoke quietly but with conviction. “I love you and that’s why I know you can do better.”

Gabe’s face lost some of its forlorn look and he gave Dean a slightly awkward smile, lightly banging his fist against the side of his leg. “Love you too, Dad.” He said quickly before bolting for the house.

Dean shook his head and slipped the gun into his inside jacket pocket. He’d have to have a few more conversations with his son about gun safety and responsibility, but he was confident he could drill the dangers into him.

He walked up the stairs to the front door, more than ready to see Y/N and his girls. When he walked inside, however, he could hear voices coming from behind the kitchen door, and they didn’t sound very happy.

He pushed open the swinging door and saw Y/N and Emma inside. Y/N’s face lit up. “Dean!” She said happily as she saw him and crossed to the door to pull him down for a kiss.

“Ew.” Emma said.

It was the standard reaction from all of their kids when they kissed in front of them. Emma had a hand over her eyes as Dean finished the kiss and looked over to where she stood by the sideboard that held all their plates, cups and glasses.

“You can look now, kiddo, we’re all finished.” Dean told her with a grin. “For the moment.”

Emma rolled her eyes and made Dean chuckle. Y/N frowned up at him. “Did I hear you yelling at Gabe?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, gotta talk to you about that, but you guys sounded angry when I came in. Anything wrong?”

Y/N looked at Emma and shrugged. “I’ve been telling Emma that she needs to invite her new friend for dinner.”

Dean’s brow wrinkled as he looked at Emma. “You don’t want to bring your friend over for dinner?”

Emma looked at Y/N with frustration, clearly annoyed that she’d told Dean anything.

Dean tried again. “What’s going on kiddo, since when don’t you want us to meet your friends? Who is it, by the way? Didn’t realize any new kids had started at the school.”

Y/N shook her head. “Jeffrey’s not a new student, he’s just a new…friend.” She said meaningfully.

Dean caught on and his face immediately dissolved into a scowl. “Oh.” He said without enthusiasm, crossing his arms over his chest.

“See?” Emma barked out, pointing at Dean, but talking to Y/N. “I told you this is how he’d be!!”

“What?” Dean asked defensively. “What are you talking about?”

Emma folded her arms, her posture and scowl mirroring Dean’s. “You get like this every time I bring a boy home, even when he’s absolutely just a friend. You scare the shit out of them!”

“Emma!” Y/N said, reprimanding her for her language..

But Dean just scoffed. “I don’t know what you mean. How do I scare them?”

Emma glared at him. “You interrogate them, Daddy, you know you do.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, if they’re too freaked out to answer a few simple questions then-”

“Simple questions?” Emma interrupted with a humorless laugh. “When I invited Timothy Sutherland over here you forced him to sit down and answer a thousand questions about his family, his background, where he grew up, what his plans were when we finished school. He ran out of here and never looked back.”

Dean threw his arms out. “Do you really wanna date a loser like that anyway? Who can’t even answer a couple questions?”

“Ugh!” Emma stomped her foot and stormed out the back door.

Silence reigned for a moment when Emma left before Y/N turned towards Dean, giving him a tilted smile. “So, welcome home!” She said in a would-be cheerful voice..

Dean sighed as he pulled her back into his arms and kissed the top of her head. They enjoyed the simple peace of each other’s embrace for a few minutes before Y/N spoke.

“What happened with Gabe?” She asked.

“He stole a gun and was gonna go shoot cans with Josh and Freddie Young.”

“What?” Y/N shouted, pulling back to look into Dean’s face.

He nodded. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I handled it. He’s in his room till supper and he’s grounded for a week. And I talked to him about how dangerous guns were. I have more conversations planned around the subject for the near future.”

Y/N shook her head before laying it back on Dean’s chest. “Good lord.”

After a couple minutes Y/N pulled away and poured them each a cup of coffee. They settled beside each other at the wooden table and instinctively linked fingers.

Dean took a sip of coffee and sighed. “I don’t really interrogate all her boyfriends, do I?”

Y/N pursed her lips. “Well, she’s never actually had a real boyfriend. And I don’t think that's because boys don’t want to date her. She’s smart and kind, beautiful and well-liked. So…” She shrugged. “It seems probable that the boys who like her are just too intimidated by her father - you know, the legend who fought monsters, Croats, angels, and WON - the soldier that leads the camp, wears a gun, and asks scary questions, all while donning a very good mean-face.”

Dean exhaled loudly, but before he could respond, their youngest child came bouncing into the room. She was just six years old, and looked so much like Emma at that age that it sometimes caught Dean off guard.

But she was definitely her own little bundle of energy. Having never known hunger or hardship, she was all bright smiles and busy excitement. It seemed as though she’d been born smiling and simply hadn't stopped. Very little bothered her, and she was absolutely spoiled by the entire family, including their found family members in the camp.

Everyone loved Hope.

“Daddy, you’re home!” Hope shouted as she jumped into his lap.

“Oof.” He grunted as she landed hard on some sensitive places. “Hey sweetheart!” He said, slightly out of breath.

“I missed you. Mommy said you might not come home until tomorrow, but I said that you would come home quick because you like to be home and you don’t like to stay away. Right?”

He nodded, trying to keep up with her racing words. “Yeah, baby, I love to be home.”

Before his sentence was ended Hope was on to her next thought. “I saw Emmie running out the back door and I tried to talk to her, but she looked mad. She was sitting on the tree swing in the back and I wanted a turn, so I told her to push me, but she just helped me on the swing and then she left to walk through the front yard and leave. And when I tried to follow her, she told me not to leave the yard and to go inside and see you cause you were back. So, I did.” She paused for breath before asking, “Why was Emmie mad?”

Y/N answered. “It’s nothing sweet pea. Why don’t you help me make supper? You can shuck the corn.”

Hope clapped her hands. “Yes, I want to pull all the strings off.”

Y/N held her daughter’s hand as she hopped off of Dean’s lap, and then leaned forward to kiss Dean slowly.

“Ew.” Hope said, shielding her eyes as her sister had.

Y/N smiled against Dean’s lips and whispered to him. “Go talk to your daughter.”

Dean nodded and stood up, bending to kiss Hope’s shiny chestnut curls on the crown of her head. “Hey, promise me something short one.” He said, continuing when she looked up at him. “Promise you’ll take a really long time to grow up, okay?”

She smiled at him, cheeks round and rosy. “Okay, daddy.”

He winked at Y/N who smiled indulgently. “She promises.”

***

Dean instinctively knew where he’d find his oldest child. She coped with stress and frustration the same way he did, the way he’d taught her to.

He walked through the door of the garage and sure enough, there was Emma, wearing old, blue coveralls that were too big for her, and bent over the hood of the little Chevy hatchback that sat next to the Impala. He knew she heard him come in, but she didn’t say anything, just kept working.

Dean hopped up on Baby’s hood and waited for her to be ready to talk. Eventually, she caved and looked over at him, her face slightly shuttered and a little hard to read. “Hi.” She said simply.

He smiled at her. “Hey kiddo.” He nodded at the open hood she was under. “How are things looking? Still need a new oil pan?”

Emma shook her head. “No, I replaced that last week. Risa found me one in the back of the storage shed.”

“Good.” Dean said. They were both quiet as Emma leaned back in and continued working.

After a moment she cleared her throat. “Looks like I’m gonna need new brake pads though. Think we could go to Lowry’s and see what he’s got.” She asked, referring to a guy in Brisbane who collected car parts and often traded with them.

“Sure. I’ll be busy for the next day or so. But we can go after that. One day after school?” He asked.

Emma nodded and stood up, wiping her hands on the rag she had stuffed in her pocket. She was quiet as she slammed the hood closed and then stepped out of the coveralls and hung them up on the hook beside the door.

She wandered over to Baby and hoisted herself up beside Dean on the hood. After a moment she leaned her head onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Dad. I’m glad you’re home.”

Dean lifted his arm so she could snuggle closer, and then wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, squeezing her into his side.

“No, you don’t have to apologize, baby. Apparently I’ve been unconsciously scaring away the tons of boys who would otherwise be beating down our door. Though, if I’m being completely truthful, it probably wasn’t entirely unconscious. Cause I just know not a one of them is gonna be good enough for you.”

Emma chuckled. “I don’t think it’s tons of boys, Daddy. And I’m not interested in a bunch of boys. I’m interested in Jeffery. And I really do want you to meet him. I think if you give him a chance you’d like him. He’s really sweet and funny and just…” She sighed. “I just like him.”

Dean squeezed her again and felt his chest constrict with love and bittersweet memories, remembering how she used to crawl into his lap and let him read her to sleep. Those days were long gone, but she was still that little girl to him and she probably always would be. But he knew she was growing up and he needed to loosen his grip, at least a little.

So he sighed now and nodded. “Okay, kiddo. If you like him, I’m sure I’ll like him too. So, invite him over for dinner one evening and I swear to keep my questions to a minimum and be perfectly cordial.”

Emma laughed. “I don’t know if cordial is ever a word I’d use to describe you, Dad. Let’s just try to leave out the death stares.”

***

That evening after dinner, it was Gabe and Hope’s turn to do dishes. Gabriel washed and Hope dried with some assistance from Dean. As they were finishing up, Keisha and Julianne showed up on their doorstep asking if Emma was free to go for a walk around camp.

Y/N nodded when Emma looked to her for permission. “That’s fine. Be home before dark. Oh, here.” She said to the twins, grabbing a bag and passing it to them. “Take these home to your mom, it's the dress patterns she loaned me.”

Keisha went to take it, but Y/N pulled it back. “On second thought, nevermind. I’ll bring it to her tomorrow afternoon. Gives me a reason to visit and gossip.”

The girls all laughed and then waved as they headed out the door. Dean had to smile as they walked away, their high pitched voices and giggles floating back to them on a breeze. Some things hadn’t changed and he was grateful.

Gabe went to his room to read, since he was housebound for the next while. Hope played with some well loved and worn out dolls for a little bit before they took her to her room and put her to bed. They tucked Gabe in not long after, and then took their coffee cups out onto their little front porch and sat in one of the big Adirondack chairs that Dean and Sam had built three years ago.

Y/N settled happily into Dean’s lap, her hands cupped around her warm mug. The late spring air was soft and warm, and the sounds of the camp drifted up the hill towards them. They listened contentedly for a little while as Clifford came out of the house and flopped down on Dean’s feet.

They talked about the kids and they talked about the Deerling camp; they talked about Sam, and Y/N admonished Dean for teasing him about Eileen.

“Be nice.” She scolded. “I hope he will bring her to dinner. If he likes her, I mean.”

They talked about anything and everything, and as the sun began to set, Emma came up the path and smiled as she saw her parents cuddled together in one chair. As much as she rolled her eyes and hid her face when they started getting kissy, she loved how much they loved each other. And she knew she’d never settle for anything less than what they had together.

She told them goodnight and went inside, Clifford rising slowly to follow her and sleep at the end of her bed as he did every night.

Soon the fireflies were buzzing loudly and the camp was getting quiet, so Dean stood up with Y/N still in his arms, leaving their coffee cups to sit on the porch until morning. She laughed as her husband carried her effortlessly into their bedroom.

He set her on her feet and locked the door before he buried his hands in her hair and pulled her to him, crushing her lips beneath his own. Y/N moaned softly and immediately pulled off his flannel shirt and yanked his t-shirt over his head so she could spread her hands across the wide expanse of his still beautifully muscled torso.

“God I missed you.” She breathed, even though it had only been one night. “I hate when you go away.”

He smiled against her skin as he stripped her down to her bra and panties. “Missed you too, sweetheart. Promise not to go anywhere ever again.”

Y/N laughed at his impossible promise as he lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He continued kissing her as he crossed the room and lowered her to the bed. She wouldn’t let go of him and pulled him down on top of her.

Dean chuckled at her hold on him and then mouthed his way down her body, licking and nipping at her skin. Ten years later she still had the ability to make him instantly hard and aching for her.

They spent most of the night making up for the one they’d been apart. In the darkest part of the night they found light and life in each other’s arms and fell asleep knowing tomorrow would dawn bright and busy - filled with responsibilities, joy, love and most of all…

…hope.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#endverse!dean #endverse!dean x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #endverse!dean fan fic series #endverse

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ronearoundblindly · 9 months ago

Text

New Parent Panic (Ari's POV)

Ari Levinson x reader--best friends-to-lovers (now engaged w/a baby)

a Bedrock and Blueprints tale (see previous or series)

Summary: Little Rachel gets sick for the first time on a day that's not-quite convenient for her parents...

Warnings for eh...self-pity? dudeliness? sorta idiot Ari but he's relatable? very very fleeting mentions of sex. Mostly this is a web of hurt/comfort, much like its counterpart perspective. WC 2.5k 😣 This got out of hand... *You'll be surprised to learn that since I posted (technically this morning), I continue to not know much about babies, so yup, it's fiction.

He felt like crud yesterday, but he never said anything.

The cast only came off of his leg three weeks ago, and between getting back to work, taking physical therapy, and having a newborn at home, Ari is run fucking ragged.

He doesn't say anything though because you are just as worn down. You're in this together. He can manage.

Despite his best efforts, he got shit sleep last night. His thigh aches when the weather is colder, and the burning strain in his atrophied muscles won't let up since he diligently repeats his PT exercises whenever he can all day long.

He has no more sick leave--or at least, it seemed useless to take it when all he had was minor chills and a headache--so he leaves in the morning for the construction site where he is grounded. Until the strength in his legs is evened out again, he'll only work on the ground, but that's not resting. He actually moves around more than if he was climbing or balancing up on unfinished floors.

Ari focuses on not limping slightly when he's home around you, but he knows you can tell his recovery isn't done yet.

So yesterday he felt pretty rough, and whatever it was ruined his sleep, but he did all he promised he would do around the house before going to work and returned right after the shift ended.

He even strategically holds the house keys so they will make zero jingling noises, in case Rachel is asleep and not to be woken.

Ari can tell immediately that his girl is, of course, not asleep at all.

"Why's she crying?" he says, changing his bearings over from an intense day of helping the rather large project crew.

"Because she hates me."

He's pretty sure that's not true so walks over, not bothering to take off his shoes, saves time if he swings by the bedroom. He can do a lot more if he removes his stiff work layers and washes some grime off. He wouldn't say no to beer either...

If he's going to do a lap around the house, he may as well grab whatever helps you.

He asks if Rachel needs medicine, but it's not been enough time for another dose.

"Hungry?" He means both the baby and you, but before he can specify, you practically bite his head off.

No, I don't think you've starved our fucking child for your amusement, but I think you might be hangry...

"Calm down," Ari tries to soothe instead. "I'm just trying to help."

It clearly doesn't come out as soothing.

"Well then fucking help me," you cry, and he can tell now that it is crying.

As soon as he's dressed down a little, he'll do anything and everything you want, but either way, he'll have to take a minute to be ready, now or later. Now just seems easier because then you can pass Rachel off to him for good.

He simply has to use the bathroom.

Turns out so do you, and you've needed to for a long time.

Ari offers to let you go first. He figures he can set her in the basinet for the whopping minute it will take him to change clothes.

You say no. You already have her.

"Fine," he sighs, beelining for the bedroom, ready to strip and flip his body like an actor offstage. "I'll be right back."

"Take. Your. Time."

Ari turns around, unamused, biting his tongue and taking a breath before, as calmly as he can possibly manage, he says, "Kid, just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

His aching body, too-cold in some spots, too-warm in others, makes him twitchy. He can't stand still and he has to take the weight off his bad leg.

You don't answer. You just walk off to the kitchen

"I swear, woman..."

Ari does everything too fast.

He knocks down a few hangers in the closet grabbing a sweatshirt from the shelf. Toiletries do a half pike in the dip of the sink when he replaces the bottle of mouthwash. He uses the last of the toilet paper rolls but is a little scared to stay any longer before relieving you.

He's about to warn you to replace it, but you're on the phone, relaying Rach's fever and very few specific symptoms beyond that, other than constant crying.

He won't interrupt you in the middle of a conversation with your back turned to him, so he decides this is his chance to get a beer out and open, within arms reach once you're done and he can take over.

The call ends.

Rachel is shrieking now, and it's difficult to hear over the wailing.

He figures you have to relay a rundown of what she's eaten and when she can have meds again, so he won't yell over the din much and asks what he needs to do.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

He barely gets the baby balanced in his arms when there's a short break in the flailing yell.

You run out. He assumes you're making a break for the bathroom, but no, you go out--like out-out--of the house. He can't move fast enough to follow, and Rachel resumes crying within seconds of the front door shutting.

Ari hasn't locked the car yet (the beep could wake a precariously sleeping kiddo so he waits to see if it's safe), so he makes it to the living room window in time to see the van shift slightly with your weight inside.

He can't see you though. You aren't in the front seats.

"Well, lil' general," he mutters to a baby that not only cannot understand him but also cannot hear him over the noise she's making, "we have our orders."

He won't take the screaming child outside; that's rude to the nice neighbors. He gathered enough info from your phone call to know Rach probably needs fed again, and by the time that's done, it'll be meds--for him and the baby. He waits to take anything for his leg until close to bed, so it's effective, maybe allowing him a few decent hours a night.

He wets a washcloth and grabs a bottle.

Ari bounces. He wiggles. He shimmies. He groans when a momentary stab of pain races up his thigh. He is so fucking sick of being in pain. He hated being trapped in bed. He hated being trapped in a cast. He hates not being at 100%. He loathes using the pain as an excuse for not doing his part at home.

So he has mentioned it as little as humanly possible.

Finally, he arranges himself on the couch with that donut pillow thing to cradle Rachel's head while she eats, and Ari slaps the cool cloth on his own forehead, leaning his neck back at an awkward angle. He doesn't really care; this is about the best he's felt all day.

He isn't sure whether he expected you to come in by now or not. He can't blame you for wanting space, just any amount of it at all really, but it's cold outside. The car won't stay comfortable for long.

Rachel has, eh, sorta stopped crying by the time the bottle is empty. She kicks her chubby legs out and stares at Ari with huge eyes, snorting with each exhale. He does the suction thingy to clear her nose, just like you taught him, and then it's Daddy-Daughter drug time.

Diaper change is next, and then because Ari happened to put on his favorite navy blue sweatshirt, he pulls out Rachel's navy blue onesie. Sue him. It's cute to match his kid.

Her big eyes get heavier and heavier, so Ari takes his chance to go check on you before Rach is even fully asleep.

He slips his shoes back on without tying them.

He's happy the first words out of your mouth once he opens the car door aren't an apology. Goodness knows when he needs a minute, he needs a minute. There's nothing wrong with that.

Ari wishes it weren't his fault though.

"Is she okay?" you ask with a watery voice.

He rubs across your back, your body curling in on itself even more. Those hard plastic, all-weather mats must be murder on your bare feet and shins.

"Took a few ounces of a bottle and went down in her bunk."

He plans the best way to lift you with his weakened stance, adjusting you like a sad rag doll before hauling you into the house.

Honestly, he's looked forward to holding you all day. He thought maybe you'd share a hug when he got home or cuddle on the couch for a bit, but none of that happened obviously.

Instead, he sinks down in the front hall, keeping you on his lap while he kicks his boots over to the mat.

He kisses your temple.

Your forehead is sweaty but chilled from outside. He has no clue if you're sick, too, but if it's whatever he had yesterday, he knows it won't last very long.

One thing he knows for sure: he had no way of knowing this was how your day went.

"How many times I gotta tell ya to call me?" he whispers. The longer his skin is pressed to yours, the more he's convinced. "You know, you're warm, too."

You ignore yourself again, asking if he took Rachel's temperature.

He cradles you while explaining what he did, squeezing you tighter once there's nothing left but to focus on you, which you do in the absolutely worst way.

"I'm a bad mom," you breathe.

"What?" He smacks his head on the wall behind him. "What are you talking about?"

Not fucking today, kid. Don't do this.

"Bullshit," he seethes, his gut knotting at the thought of you wallowing in those thoughts, alone in the empty, cold car. "Don't you ever say that again."

Your evading his attempts to wrangle you into facing him.

"I shouldn't have--"

"Stop," he bites out.

"--you were--"

"Stop it."

"But I'm the one who wanted this, Ari!"

That's not fair and you know it. His heart is breaking open with yours.

"Me," you continue, choked by misplaced guilt. "I wanted kids. This whole time. I bitched about how Joanna's done--"

He fucking hates the idea of you comparing yourself to Joanna.

"--and I thought I could just...and I suck at it. Rach even likes you better!"

You're full-on blubbering now, and he won't say it, but you're adorably pathetic like this. His breaking heart swells a little.

"No, kid," he adds. "She was exhausted. I only got here at the right time."

"It's 'cause you're comfy and you smell good--"

Well, I do use my bathroom time wisely...

"--and she loves you."

You say that like it's a bad thing?? Ari snorts out a laugh at your lip quiver.

"She loves you, too. You're her mom." He tucks you in closer, stroking his hands over your restless form. "I love you. So much. So, so much."

Ari searches for your hand and the sapphire ring he put on it until he can spin the band gently on your finger. He knows you deserve a wedding, sooner rather than later, but he doesn't want to be in pain standing up with you in front of friends and family. He doesn't want to limp during your first dance. He certainly doesn't want to need painkillers to take you to bed that night (or any night really).

That's his guilt.

Yes, you were very pregnant when he fell and broke his leg. Yes, there would have been almost no way to have sex with his cast on, or properly maneuver you for any other positions and activities. Yes, you needed plenty of time to heal after giving birth. But come on!

If he had control of his body, or his muscle mass back, or less self-consciousness and disappointment, he would love nothing more than to be all over you--last night, this morning, when he walked in the door, in the kitchen, out in the car, or right here on the fucking floor.

Ari knows those are selfish thoughts. You need his comfort and words more than you need to feel like an object. Rachel--or, he guesses, a baby in general--makes everyone feel like they're just playing a roll, like they're there for one purpose only.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Ari rumbles near your ear. "You're my favorite."

You slump into his chest until your forehead braces his throat. You fit him so perfectly.

"Almost not fair, really. You've got a decade of brownie points, and she's managed to make me buy more pads for her than I've had to for y--"

You pinch at his side harshly, biting back a smile. He deserved that pinch. He earned that smile.

"Oh! And you can control your bladder for a whole day, which is downright impressive wh--hey now--" the assault on his ribs has him jumping around the floor "I'm just...being...honest," he chuckles.

"You're a jerk is what you are, old man."

He grabs both your arms and pins them together in front of him.

"Yeah, but I'm your jerk. Your old man, kid. I'm yours, okay? You are not alone here. You don't have to know how to do everything by yourself." He lowers his voice as well as his face to yours. "And you mean just as much to me as that little girl in there. You hear me?"

You only nod, so he gently knocks his forehead to yours.

"Please be okay. I could never do this without you. Any of it..."

You're settled in bed, watered, fed, and cleaned, but Ari notices Rachel starting to fuss again.

When he sweeps the thermometer over her head and ear, the reading says her temp has actually gone down slightly. He'll take that win.

He lets out a silent cheer and holds his hand up.

"High five?"

Those huge eyes just blink at him.

"No? It's fine. We'll work on that."

He lefts her out of the basinet and tries one more bottle, turning on the TV but getting lost watching his daughter's tiniest movements instead. While he's burping her, he runs through his PT routine, twice, since his mobility gets a little better once his meds kick in.

Lil' General is out cold almost instantly over his shoulder.

Ari grabs another wet cloth for your forehead before putting everyone to sleep.

He bounces his way closer to you in the bed. He wiggles and shimmies until you're resting against his chest. He smiles when he realizes you don't feel overly warm anymore, pulling the blanket higher, letting the static of Rach's white-noise machine take him under.

He felt like crud yesterday. Today, he helped his ladies feel better and goes to bed happy, holding you.

[Main Masterlist; Bedrock and Blueprints Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @rogersbarber

#ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #bedrock and blueprints #ari levinson x you #ari levinson angst #ari levinson fluff #hurt/comfort #best friend!reader #established relationship #ari levinson au

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odyssean-flower · 10 months ago

Text

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 11 - The Honeymoon (Part 3)

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: You and Neuvillette have a fun time in Merusea Village Warnings: None except for the fact that this story is 50% written based on vibes Note: This chapter is 13k words long so yeah, strap in Note 2: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette hanging out in Merusea Village

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“Madame, are you feeling alright? Please let me know if we need to stop the boat somewhere for a short rest.”

“I assure you, I’m fine. I stopped feeling nauseous a long time ago. The boat has been moving very smoothly so far.”

Despite your repeated assurances, Neuvillette still looked slightly doubtful. He was probably going to ask this question again later.

After lunch, Neuvillette took you to a small dock to the south of the willow tree, where there was a small, inconspicuous boat waiting to take you two to Elynas, where Merusea Village was located. The vishap had followed you and saw you off.

Queasiness took hold of you once you got onto this boat. It was probably because you just had lunch. Luckily, the boat wasn’t going too fast. You suspected that it was on purpose.

You glanced up at Neuvillette. Like the rowboat at the tree, this boat was smoothly cutting through the water of its own accord. You didn’t hear a motor, nor was there anyone at the wheel.

Leaning back against the cushions of the seat that Neuvillette made you sit on after you first mentioned your dizziness, you closed your eyes. The warm sunlight felt like a comforting blanket despite being filtered through clouds, and the refreshing sea breeze stroked the hair at your nape like gentle fingers. The boat’s steady rocking was soothing, almost hypnotic. Ah, this is heaven. I’ve been missing out.

The cry of a seabird near your ear caused you to open your eyes. You saw Neuvillette standing at the bow. His long snow-white hair was fluttering in the wind, along with his coat tails. He had his cup in his hand, no doubt filled with water. You couldn’t see his expression from here, but judging from the relaxed set of his shoulders, he was also enjoying himself.

In another life, Neuvillette would make a fine ship captain, you idly thought as you observed his stately, erect figure. He certainly had the bearing of one. Or what you imagined a captain would be like from the various novels and books you read.

Your fingers itched to paint him. You were already thinking about the composition and colors. This was strange. Usually, you didn’t really enjoy painting people. You didn’t even like doing self-portraits. Landscapes and buildings were more to your taste.

As though sensing your gaze, Neuvillette turned around and looked at you. “We will be reaching Elynas in about an hour or so. Please, relax until then, Madame. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“I am. Please stop asking,” you said firmly and resolutely fixed your gaze ahead. The sharp peaks of Elynas were still just a faint dot in the distance. You could see the shadows of ships gliding on the water. What would their passengers think if they saw the Chief Justice standing in this small, inconspicuous boat?

You turned your head back in the direction of Erinnyes. All you could see now was the shoreline and verdant trees. It was as though that giant willow tree and vishap never existed in the first place. Like it was all a dream.

The seat next to you sank down with Neuvillette’s weight. “Did you have fun at Erinnyes?”

“Oh, I did!” you turned to him with a broad smile. Perhaps it was just your imagination, but you thought his pupils dilated slightly. “It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been to. It’s so… so mystical. I wish we could have stayed longer.”

Neuvillette let out a little chuckle. He put his hand to his mouth, as though to hide his expression. “I’m very glad to hear that. I hope the vishap didn’t spoil your mood.”

“Not at all,” you shook your head. “I was a little scared at first, sure, but she was actually very gentle. I did assume there would be more vishaps around, though.”

“Most of them live underwater to hide from the sunlight and humans. I considered summoning them aboveground to introduce you to them, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

The thought of those large vishaps dwelling beneath the ground was somewhat disconcerting but thrilling at the same time. Erinnyes was supposed to have a complicated network of underground caverns. You supposed they lived there.

Another thought occurred to you just then. “You can speak their language,” you turned to him. “Are you related to them in some way? Like…their overseer or something?”

“Overseer…? Interesting choice of words,” Neuvillette stroked his chin, thinking your question over. “I would not call myself that, but I do watch over them, and they depend on me.”

“I see,” you said. It didn’t escape your notice that he didn’t answer your question about whether or not he was related to them. You stared at his slitted eyes again. They did resemble vishaps’ eyes quite a lot. Could Neuvillette turn into a vishap? You couldn’t quite imagine it. If he could transform into something, you’d imagine that it would be something more majestic and graceful, like…

Neuvillette cleared his throat. That was when you realized that you had been staring into his eyes for far too long. Hastily, you looked away, your gaze landing on the sparkling water.

“I…I didn’t know that the Chief Justice’s duties also extend to looking after the wild creatures of the land,” you said. You hoped that you didn’t sound too flustered. “I don’t know how you manage it.”

“Well, those wild creatures, as you called them, are also citizens of Fontaine, so they are under my purview in that sense. And also, the role of Chief Justice isn’t the only role I play.”

You didn’t quite understand what he was talking about, and he didn’t seem to have any intention of elaborating. For a while, the two of you watched the neighboring shoreline move past you.

Eventually, the back of the Opera Epiclese came into view. And in the distance, the Court of Fontaine loomed over the waters. Looking at it from here, you once again appreciated just how big it was. When you first moved there, it had taken you weeks to find your way around without getting lost.

“What a great view of the city,” you said. “I’d love to take some pictures of it.”

“Why don’t you, then?”

“I’m afraid I’ll run out of film since I took so many pictures back at Erinnyes, so I want to save it for Merusea Village.”

“There’s no need to worry about that. I’ve brought several rolls of film with me,” Neuvillette patted his pocket.

“Oh, really! Don’t mind if I do, then.”

You went to the cabin to get the Kamera, then proceeded to take pictures of the city from several angles. It certainly looked imposing, with its tall ramparts and the lofty Mont Esus looming in the background, but it was simply too gaudy and contemporary for your liking. Maybe it’ll look better in a few hundred years, when it’s all ruins. You found yourself focusing on the half-sunken beams and pillars poking out from beneath the water instead. Are those from the last flood period? I wonder what used to be there?

You closed your eyes as you tried to recall what you read in The Divers’ Guide to Underwater Ruins. It had belonged to your old art teacher, a former adventurer, and you used to beg her to lend it to you after every lesson. I think that’s where the old Institute of Natural Philosophy used to be. How sad it is to think that so much research is forever lost.

Although, you also felt a bubbling excitement in the pit of your stomach, as you always did whenever you thought about old, crumbling, forgotten ruins.

“Madame, are you feeling ill?” Neuvillette’s voice snapped you out of your reverie. You opened your eyes and was met with lilac orbs filled with concern. You stepped back a little in surprise, not expecting his face to be so close to yours. You could smell the crisp scent of his cologne, although you weren’t expert enough to identify the ingredients. It was different from the one he wore at your wedding. It smells nice, though. Maybe I should start wearing perfume too.

“I apologize for startling you,” Neuvillette said as he saw the look of alarm on your face. “You closed your eyes and had an odd expression on your face, so I was worried.”

“Oh, it was nothing. I was simply lost in thought,” you waved your hands dismissively as you felt your heartbeat settle down to a normal rate. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable with being in close quarters with a man or anything. Neuvillette was still your husband, after all, so you should probably get used to it. It was simply that you were still coming to grips with the fact that you were on this little boat in the middle of the sea with the Chief Justice (who really did look quite resplendent. You should ask to take a picture of him. As a souvenir of this day, of course), and you couldn’t forget how different and warm and comforting it felt to be in his arms. That was all.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked. He stepped a little bit closer, like he was actually curious.

About old, crumbling, unexplored ruins and how the Court of Fontaine would look much better as a pile of rocks, you thought, but didn’t say it aloud. It was hardly a conversation topic for a date. And you were pretty sure you would be taken to the Fortress of Meropide for that second part.

“I was just spacing out. It’s really nothing,” you said dismissively.

Neuvillette nodded slowly and turned away. A shadow passed over him. It was cast by the aquabus railing, marking the halfway point of this journey.

By the time the boat emerged from the other side, gray clouds were gathering in the sky. Neuvillette was still turned away from you. You bit your lip, regretting your tone. You hadn’t meant for it to come off so bluntly. Your mother often criticized you for not speaking softly and gently enough for a lady. You wished you had Neuvillette’s quiet, soothing voice. It never failed to calm you.

Instead of researching honeymoon spots, I should have read more books on how to behave on a date, you inwardly lamented. You were not a charming, talkative person by nature. It took work on your part to pretend to be one. Probably because of this, your romantic history was non-existent.

If only you were your sister…she seemed to have a way of lighting up any situation.

It was funny. Mutually agreeing to be just friends was supposed to be make everything easier. Friendship was supposed to be easy and natural. There was no pretense between friends. Though you didn’t exactly have a large social circle back home, you did have a few close friends. But Neuvillette was nothing like your school friends or your old art teacher, by virtue of his position and status. And that wasn’t even mentioning the fact that you two were in a marriage of convenience.

If only Lady Furina hadn’t gotten involved, we could have lived together quietly and peacefully as just friends until the year’s end. You felt a stab of resentment towards the Archon. Because of her, Neuvillette—and you, by extension—was forced into this awkward situation. She must have really riled him up. Why can’t she just be happy that Neuvillette is getting a “taste of matrimonial happiness” or whatever and leave it at that? …Then again, we haven’t exactly acted like a proper married couple until now. And even now...

“Madame, here you are,” Neuvillette’s voice broke through your thoughts. He was holding a cup of water out to you. “Drinking water can ease seasickness.”

You haven’t been feeling sick for some time now. What sort of look did I have on my face? You wondered, but accepted the cup anyways. The water was crisp and refreshing. It cleared your mind.

There’s really no use in overthinking this, you concluded. The best thing I can do for Neuvillette is to go along with whatever he has planned for us and help keep the mood light and pleasant. I have no idea if Lady Furina is watching us or not, but one can never be sure.

You considered for a moment what you could do, then stood up with the Kamera.

Neuvillette’s eyes were fixed on the sea ahead. You remembered a story that Muirne, a Melusine who worked at the Palais Mermonia, told you about Neuvillette staring out at sea and causing a crowd of people to wonder if there was something going on out there. Looking at him now, you could understand how that happened. There was a magnetic intensity in his gaze that drew you to him. You had never seen that expression for yourself, though. Perhaps it was reserved for the sea.

There were many things you didn’t know about him. He was fathomless like the ocean itself. What you saw now was only the surface. You couldn’t hope to catch even a glimpse of his depths. The thought gave you a strange restlessness.

Just stop thinking, you told yourself firmly. Easy, casual. Remember that!

“Monsieur Neuvillette,” you addressed him. “May I take a few pictures of you?”

To your surprise, he readily agreed. You were under the impression that he didn’t like being photographed, considering the scarcity of his photos in the papers and his avoidance of being in public.

“Should I pose or, ah, smile?” he asked, fiddling with his fingers. Maybe he was like you, uncomfortable with being photographed.

“No. All you have to do is to stand and look as you usually do,” you said, even as you find yourself curious about what sorts of poses Neuvillette would make. “Just stand against the railing and look out at sea. That would be perfect.”

As you aimed the lens at Neuvillette and looked at him through the viewfinder, it struck you then that from an outsider’s point of view, you looked like a real couple, on a real date.

Embarrassingly, the thought made your heart flutter.

Except it wasn’t, really. It was a sham, all for show. It was like a play, almost, performed for an invisible audience. A farce for no one except the two of you (and the Hydro Archon).

But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re happy right now, a voice whispered in your mind. How long had it been since your heart felt so light?

You weren’t sure if that made you more pathetic or not.

You took a deep breath, clearing your mind of these errant thoughts, and concentrated on taking pictures of Neuvillette. He really is very photogenic, you thought. Though he does a look a bit stiff. You put on what you thought was an encouraging smile to help him relax, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Whoops?

After you were done, Neuvillette said, “I do hope the pictures will turn out well.”

“I’m sure they will,” you said, putting the Kamera back down and flopping back down onto the bench. “There is no finer pairing than a handsome man and beautiful scenery.”

Neuvillette made a choked noise. He blinked rapidly and shook his head, like he couldn’t believe what he just heard. “Pardon me?”

“‘There’s no finer pairing than a handsome man and beautiful scenery’?” you repeated your words, confused. Neuvillette still looked a bit stunned. You began to wonder if you had said something wrong. You meant it as an innocuous comment, but it could be taken the wrong way in the context of your relationship. Perhaps Neuvillette thought you meant something more by it. You should rectify things before a misunderstanding occurred.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Neuvillette beat you to the punch.

“You…consider me handsome?”

Now it was your turn to stare at him. “Of course I do?”

“I-I see,” Neuvillette said in a low voice. He seemed awfully caught off guard by your words. That was strange. Surely he was used to receiving compliments on his looks? Whenever he made a rare public appearance, the papers always made sure to describe his looks in loving detail, and it was well known that he had a legion of fangirls, some of whom had even been sent to the Fortress of Meropide for their extreme behavior.

“I mean, I consider you handsome in the same way that most Fontainians do, in an aesthetic sort of way. I don’t mean anything untoward, sir. Did you find what I said offensive?”

“No,” Neuvillette said, then cleared his throat. He was looking at anywhere but you. You could have sworn that the tips of his ears turned red. He almost seemed embarrassed. “No, I was simply…simply surprised, that’s all.”

“Surprised? Why?”

“Because you…ah, never acted in a way that suggested that you did…” Neuvillette struggled to find the words to finish his sentence. Poor man, you were embarrassing him to death. “Admire my looks, so I assumed that you…did not think of me in that way.”

You stared at him with your mouth agape, only to hastily close your mouth when you saw how flustered you were making him. So Neuvillette was aware of the effect that his looks had on people. “Wait, what about that time when I kept staring at you? That counts, right?”

“No, it was different. It felt more as though you were trying to analyze me,” he said. He must be so used to the amorous stares of his admirers that he was able to differentiate between the different types of gazes. His brow wrinkled, as though recalling unpleasant memories. Most likely related to the more extreme side of his fans. Poor man , you thought again.

“I see,” you nodded. “I am sorry if I caused any offence by never saying anything.”

“It isn’t something I care a whit about,” Neuvillette said quickly. If you didn’t know him, you would have thought he was trying to convince himself. “I find the fixation on appearances quite baffling and needless, honestly.”

“Really?” you gave him a once-over. He wasn’t wearing his usual judge’s garb, but he was still dressed much too formally for a casual outing like this. The afternoon sun gilded the edges of his white hair, which looked soft and silky to the touch. His hair care regimen must be intensive .

“Yes, really,” he nodded. “I only put up with such standards because of the demands of my position.”

Easy for someone as stunning as him to say, you thought, but felt no bitterness. Maybe it was because he sounded truly sincere.

Perhaps it was that sincerity that spurred you on to say what you said next.

“Even so, I think there’s nothing wrong with complimenting someone on their looks, especially when they look as radiant as you,” you struggled to find the right words. You were never much of a writer. “Looking at you…reminds me of the mountains near my home. I liked seeing them every day. They never fail to take my breath away.”

A thought popped into your head. Wait, a comparison to the sea would have been more apt here. But truth be told, you didn’t have any strong connection to the sea. Mountains, on the other hand, have been the constant backdrop for your childhood, so that was why they were the first thing that popped into your mind.

A thrill of elation shot through your heart. Back in your old ball-attending days, your family would advise you to compliment potential partners on their appearance and dress. You tried, but somehow it always seemed to not land correctly. Perhaps it was your tone or the way you spoke. With Neuvillette, you had put all your sincerity and goodwill into your words, and it seemed to have worked.

Neuvillette had always been nothing but courteous and gentlemanly towards you. It was time that you repaid the favor.

The loud cry of a sea bird at the front of the boat drew your attention, and you spun around, your back facing him. Elynas was just up ahead.

As you admired the white ridges of the mountains in your jubilation, you were completely ignorant of your husband’s intense, heated gaze aimed at the back of your head and the rapidly clearing clouds.

“Welcome to Merusea Village, Monsieur and Madame Neuvillette!”

A high-pitched chorus greeted you at the entrance of the underwater village.

You surveyed the crowd of Melusines before you, still reeling from the journey here and what happened on the boat. Your hand was still tingling.

The Melusines immediately surrounded the two of you, talking over each other.

“Your wife is so pretty, Monsieur Neuvillette!”

“I wish you invited us to the wedding!”

“Does this mean you’re our new mother?”

“When are you going to have a baby?”

The last two questions took by complete surprise. “P-Pardon me??” you spluttered.

Neuvillette, noticing how flustered you were, cleared his throat. “Everyone, I understand that you’re all excited to meet Madame Neuvillette, but you’re overwhelming her by coming up to her all at once.”

The Melusines looked sheepish. “Sorry, Madame,” they said in unison.

“There’s no need to apologize,” you said, although you were still not over the whole “mother” thing (your mind had automatically blocked out the baby question. You were still trying to wrap your head around the whole “being married” thing). You knew that the Melusines saw Neuvillette as their father and that he treated them as though they were his own daughters, but you hadn’t thought about how you factored into these relationships. I mean, in that sense, I guess I’m their stepmother…?

Having spent much time with the Melusines recently, you had begun to think of them as your little sisters.

A blue Melusine with brown hair stepped forward. “Monsieur Neuvillette is right, everyone,” she said in a tone that you immediately recognized to be that of a big sister. “We should all introduce ourselves to Madame one by one. I’ll go first. I’m Serene.”

The others followed her example and introduced themselves. You tried your best to remember them all. Cosanzeana, Iara, Sedile, Virda…

“Madame,” Sedene said. “Shall we give you a tour of the village?”

“Yes, please do,” you said. The Melusines happily grabbed your hands and led you to the opening of the cave.

You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as you laid eyes on the enchanting sight before you. The contrast between the gloomy and dangerous Elynas above and this cozy and adorable underwater village was incredible. You had seen pictures of the village, but they failed to completely capture its charm, from the cupcake-shaped stone houses to their bubbling chimneys. The gentle light cascading down from above bequeathed a mysterious air to the village that made your heart leap. It looked just like the fairy villages in the picture books you loved as a child.

You wasted no time in taking pictures. The Melusines were delighted by the presence of your Kamera and asked if you could take photos of them as well, which you happily agreed to. So, the tour became a rather sluggish one as the Melusines led you around the village, taking turns to point out which house belonged to who, pointing out all the interesting spots and showing you their little knickknacks. You dutifully complied with their picture-taking requests. It was an absorbing process. You almost fancied yourself as an anthropologist, documenting the culture of an unknown civilization.

Neuvillette seemed content to hang back and let the Melusines take over. He, like you, was also surrounded by a gaggle of the little creatures. Whenever you glanced back, he was always in the midst of patting their heads or picking them up in his arms. You could hear him inquiring about them and their eager answers.

The party made its way past a basin. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to call it a passageway, since it appeared to be bottomless. “This is how we go to the underwater part of the village,” a pink Melusine named Xana explained.

You peered down. You could just make out the blurry gray shapes of houses. It reminded you of the small pool that you arrived here from. Neuvillette told you that it was a secret shortcut that not many people knew about. It certainly lived up to its status as a shortcut, since you ended up at the bottom of the water in the blink of an eye, before you could even register the fact that Neuvillette had wrapped his arms around your waist and asked you to close your eyes and hold your breath for a few seconds as he dove into the water with you.

You felt your face turn slightly warm as you recalled the feeling of his arms around you and being pressed against his chest. He was more muscular than he looked, under all that loose-flowing fabric.

You stole another glance at him. He was in the middle of examining Xana’s collection of shiny things that she was proudly holding out to him. Sensing your gaze, he looked up and met your eyes.

Before you could look away, he walked up to you. “What is it, Madame?”

“Um…” you fumbled for something to say, something that wasn’t related to Neuvillette’s strong, comforting arms or his broad chest. “I was wondering if we could go visit the underwater part of the village.”

“Underwater?” Neuvillette repeated. The corners of his lips turned downward. “I would dearly love to, but I don’t believe you can hold your breath for that long.”

“Oh, I see,” you felt a little disappointed, but there was nothing you could do. You’ve always had a fascination with underwater structures and ruins and the like, but it seemed that you could only see them in pictures.

“Can you swim, Madame?” Xana asked.

“Yes, but not very well. I can only stick to shallow water,” you said. “Monsieur Neuvillette is a very good swimmer, though. We got all the way down here in seconds. It’s like he was born for it.”

The Melusines looked at each other and giggled, like they were sharing a secret.

The tour made its final stop at the entrance of a conjoining cavern. You spotted a small house some distance away. “That’s where Mamere lives,” Serene pointed at it. “She’s out of the village getting materials for her paints right now, though.”

“I was wondering where she was,” Neuvillette mused. “Is she still keeping to herself most of the time?”

“Yeah, I told her that she needed to stay in the village since today’s a special day, but you know how it is with that kid…” Serene let out a long-suffering sigh that you emphasized with as a fellow older sister. “She does whatever she wants.”

“Who’s Mamere?” you asked.

It was a Melusine named Topyas who answered. “She’s a painter like you, Madame! I don’t really get her paintings, though.”

“Yeah, what’s the word humans use again—abstract? Her paintings are very different from yours. Madame’s paintings are much easier to understand,” Xana said.

“Oh?” That surprised you. You never thought that the drawings you did for practice for make it this far across the nation. “You’ve seen my paintings? Did the Melusines from the city show them to you?”

“No, it was Monsieur Neuvillette. He showed them to us when he came here before.”

“He did?” you looked at him. He nodded. You thought he looked a bit bashful.

“I hope that is okay with you,” he said. “I wanted all the Melusines to see them.”

“Well…um, I have no problem with it,” you looked down at your feet. It was funny. You never had much attachment to your paintings and considered them to be adequate enough to be part of your portfolio, but having them shown around like this almost made you wonder if there was something in them Neuvillette and the Melusines saw that you didn’t see. “I’m just worried that they’re too boring for your tastes. They’re just landscapes of my hometown, after all.”

The Melusines disagreed vehemently. “But they’re so pretty. It feels like I’m right there when I’m looking at them,” Iara said, clapping her hands together.

“I really love the sunflowers,” Cosanzeana said wistfully. “I wish I could grow them down here, but they need the sun. You’re so lucky that you get to live in a place with so many flowers.”

“Is that so? I think you’re the lucky ones, getting to live in this beautiful village,” you gestured around. If you had the chance to live near the skeleton of a giant beast, you’d never leave. Of course, you did not say that out loud.

“Monsieur Neuvillette also said that you’re very modest, Madame,” Serene said.

“Oh, really?” you looked at Neuvillette again. He avoided your gaze this time. “What else did he say about me?”

“He told us that you’re—"

Neuvillette cleared his throat a bit too loudly. “Oh, that reminds me, we prepared a feast for you!” Serene said quickly. You could hear amusement in her voice. “Are you two hungry?”

“I’m not,” you said.

“Nor am I. Your sandwiches were very filling, Madame,” Neuvillette said.

“Madame made sandwiches for you, Monsieur?” a Melusine asked.

“She did, and they were delicious,” Neuvillette said, smiling at you. Really, this man… “I only wish she made more so we can share them with all of you.”

The Melusines looked at you with expectant eyes. Looks like you’ve just been volunteered for more sandwich-making duties in the near future. “How about this? Why don’t you all come to Monsieur Neuvillette’s house when the sunflowers are in full bloom? I’ll make plenty of sandwiches for all of you then. And Monsieur Neuvillette can entertain all of you while you’re there,” you gave him your sweetest smile. “If it’s okay with you, of course.”

Neuvillette looked a bit dazed as he stared at your face. Perhaps you had gone a bit too far. There were a lot of Melusines here, after all. But then he blinked and shook his head slightly, like he was awakened from a trance. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. We’ll send the invitations here when the time comes.”

Overjoyed by the invitation, the Melusines quickly began to chat amongst themselves over what to wear and what to bring. As it was still mid-afternoon and neither you nor Neuvillette were hungry yet, it was decided that you would spend your time leisurely until evening arrived.

So for the next few hours, you played and chatted with the Melusines. You had expected them to ask you endless questions about your marriage, but they didn’t. Perhaps Neuvillette had told them something beforehand, saving you the trouble of coming up with answers. Playing with the Melusines brought back fun memories of your days assisting at the schoolhouse back home. For some reason, they were infinitely fascinated by your life and hometown up above. You told them about the fields of wildflowers, the majestic mountains you played in when you were a child, and even a bit about your life in the city. They stroked their mitten-like hands along the fabric of your skirt and exclaimed over it like it was made of spun gold. They admired the flower in your hair and squealed over the fact that Neuvillette had a matching one in his hair.

Up until now, you had always considered your life to be drab and hopeless. It wasn’t even tragic, just lackluster. At home, you were overlooked in favor of your sister, and in high society, you were invisible. It wasn’t lost on you that your life could be much worse. However, as destined as you were for a life of quiet spinsterhood, it could still be amended. You could still have shreds of your childhood aspirations, molded into adult reality.

That was why you adopted an attitude of always looking forward and never dwelling on the past for too long. Staying too long in one spot would only trap you there forever. You’ve read all sorts of stories about old gods and heroes who met their downfall by clinging too much to the past. You were nowhere near their level, of course, but your old art teacher told you that all the most valuable lessons were learned from history, and you trusted her with all your heart.

But being with the Melusines—being with Neuvillette—was starting to make you see the color in your black-and-white life. You were beginning to see that there was something beyond the constrained life you were born into and destined for.

Don’t lose sight of your goal. Don’t forget who you are. The little voice in your head warned you. Thinking of your future plans always managed to clear your heart and refresh your mind. But now, it sounded strangely muffled compared to before.

Speaking of Neuvillette, you looked around for him. Currently, you were resting on a bench. He had wanted to stay with you, but you encouraged him to play with the Melusines. This was one of his rare visits, after all. You spotted him with some Melusines by the waterfall. Laume—the Melusine who wanted to be a journalist, if you remembered correctly—was holding the Kamera and instructing him to pose. You watched as he placed his hand on his hip and held up his hand in a peace sign. He really does indulge them. You knew that he had a soft, paternal side he showed only to the Melusines, but having it displayed before you like this was something else.

More Melusines came up to him, wanting to take pictures with him. He patted their heads with a fond smile. A lucky few even got the chance to ride on his shoulders. His affection for the Melusines was evident in his every expression and gesture. And it was clear that the Melusines reciprocated that love just as much.

“I hope you aren’t too tired out by the kids,” Serene said, sitting next to you. “They can be a handful.”

“It’s all right, I’ve done this kind of thing before,” you waved your hand. “I’m more worried about you. Shouldn’t you be playing with Monsieur Neuvillette like the others instead of running around taking care of everyone?”

You’ve learned that Serene was indeed the big sister of the Melusines here, the one who looked after everyone and sent reports to Neuvillette about the goings-on of the village. She really was a big sister.

“That’s my job, after all. I’ve got to take it seriously, just like how Monsieur Neuvillette always takes his job seriously,” Serene said matter-of-factly, but you could hear the admiration in her voice.

“But it’s good to take breaks sometimes. Even Monsieur Neuvillette does, like today.”

“Today…” Serene mused. Then she smiled. “You know, Madame, when we learned that he was bringing you with him to the village, we were so happy. We thought, ‘Finally, Monsieur Neuvillette has someone by his side.’”

“Someone by his side?” you repeated. “But he has all of you, doesn’t he?”

But even as you say it, you thought that you understood what Serene meant. You had the same thoughts before.

“What I mean is, someone who can share his worries and burdens. Someone he can be himself with. I don’t know much about how human marriages work, but I think that’s what it’s supposed to be, right? I’m so happy that Monsieur Neuvillette has finally found someone like that. You must be really special.”

You looked away from the Melusine, biting your lip. Serene didn’t know the circumstances surrounding this marriage, of course. She didn’t know that it was based on pity and self-interest. She didn’t know that you and him were simply wading in shallow water, never intending to go deeper than that. She didn’t know that even for this trip, it was an obligation handed down to him by the Archon, not something he did because he wanted to, or that there was something he was refusing to tell you for reasons you didn’t understand.

You didn’t say any of this out loud. Instead, you forced a smile. “I’m really not all that special,” you said.

“But Monsieur Neuvillette thinks you are, Madame! You should have heard how he talked about you. And his face! I’ve never seen him look like that before.”

“What did he say about me?” you asked, curious. You couldn’t imagine it.

“Oh…I shouldn’t. I don’t want to embarrass him,” Serene giggled. “But trust me, they were all good things. And he was right, you’re as wonderful and lovely as he described!”

Wonderful and lovely? Those were two words that better described your sister, not you. You almost wondered if Neuvillette had been talking about someone else.

Just then, a Melusine ran up to you. “Madame! Come take a picture with us!”

“Okay, I’m coming,” you answered, then took Serene’s hand. “Come on, let’s go take some pictures.”

The crowd of Melusines immediately made room for you to stand next to Neuvillette. You glanced up at him. Despite having to keep up with the Melusines’ seemingly boundless energy for so long, he didn’t look the slightest bit fatigued.

“Are you feeling more rested, Madame?” he whispered as you positioned yourself next to him. “Hungry yet?”

“Yes to the first question, and no, I’m not hungry yet,” you whispered back. “Are you?”

“I also am not hungry,” he answered. There was a short pause before he asked another question. “…Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Of course I am,” you said in surprise, for he sounded genuinely troubled. “Why do you ask?”

“It is just that…” Neuvillette trailed off, as though searching for the right words. “I couldn’t help but notice that you had a rather grave expression on your face when you were chatting with Serene.”

He could see your expression from all the way over here? You looked at the other side of the village, where the bench you had been sitting. His eyesight must be incredible.

“Oh, there’s nothing to worry about,” you said airily. “We were just chatting. And that’s how my face always looks. But why were you looking over at us, anyways, when you have all these charming young ladies around you?”

One of the Melusines in front of you giggled and turned around. “That’s because he was feeling lonely without you, Madame!” she chirped.

“Yeah, that’s why he keeps looking in your direction!” Another Melusine chimed in.

“Is that true, Monsieur Neuvillette?” you looked back at him. His face was kept carefully smooth and expressionless, but you could see spots of color in his cheeks. “Can you really not bear a single minute away from me?”

“I…” Neuvillette looked as though he wanted to take off and leave right there and then. But he ended up being saved from having to come up with an answer by Laume.

“Okay, everyone! I finally figured out how to use the timer!” she announced. “Now, we can all take a group picture together!”

Wow, I didn’t know Kameras from back then had timers, you thought as Laume directed the Melusines to cluster together as closely as possible so that they could all be captured by the Kamera’s lens. You and Neuvillette eventually ended up in a position where you were basically pressed against each other.

“Madame,” you heard him whisper into your ear. Despite this not even being the first time, your heart never failed to beat just a little faster. “May I put my arm around you?”

You looked up at him. His lilac eyes bored into your own, exerting an invisible force. You nodded, and he wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand resting just above your hip. You could feel the warmth of his hand seeping through the fabric and into your skin. The weight of it made you feel twitchy and lightheaded. It felt like every nerve in your body was concentrated there in that one spot.

“Get ready, everyone! The Kamera’s about to go off in five seconds! Smile!” Laume shouted. She proceeded to run back to the crowd. Just then, you felt him tighten his grip imperceptibly, drawing you towards him. Your head brushed against his shoulder.

The Kamera flashed, capturing this moment in time forever. With that, the crowd dispersed, and Neuvillette let go of your waist. You could still feel the shadow of his touch. You stared after him, wanting to say something, but didn’t know what.

A pink Melusine called out to him. “Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette, could we please play with your hair now?”

“Why, certainly,” Neuvillette said. The Melusines cheered.

“Madame, have you ever played with Monsieur Neuvillette’s hair before?” one of them asked.

“I haven’t,” you said, causing them to gasp in surprise.

They insisted that you be granted the honor of touching Neuvillette’s hair first, despite your protestations. As for the man in question, he had no problem with it, although his mind seemed to be somewhere else. And so was yours, for that matter. You just couldn’t figure him out, and it bothered you greatly. Were friendships supposed to be this complicated? You thought that once you and Neuvillette agreed to be friends, things would be so much easier between the two of you now. In some ways, it was, but it also wasn’t, as it was in this case.

Why am I feeling so strangely about this? You wondered to yourself. He just put his arm around me, that’s all. Why, just today, he carried me in his arms when we came down here and kissed the back of my hand because I complimented him (an overreaction, but I can understand the logic behind it). And I did run into his arms and cling to him (only because I was startled by the vishap)…I suppose the difference is that I can’t think of any conceivable reason that he would put his arm around me back there.

Stop overthinking, you told yourself once again. It’ll just give you a headache. Remember, easy and casual!

“Madame…Madame!” High-pitched voices pierced through your thoughts. Before you knew it, you were sitting on the stone bench again. Neuvillette was perched on the end, his back facing you. The ends of his tied hair were resting on the stone surface. His pure white locks reminded you of untrodden snow, too pristine to touch. You uneasily wondered if you should wash your hands first.

“I brought the hair things!” Cosanzeana announced, bringing over a box. It contained combs, brushes, ribbons, and various other hair ornaments. It seemed that this was a favorite activity of the Melusines. Neuvillette was evidently used to it as well, for he was sitting quietly with his back erect and his hands clasped in his lap.

It was somewhat unnerving to have an audience of bright, inhuman eyes watch you, but you got on with it. You slowly undid the black ribbon at the end of his hair and placed it by your side, then leaned forward to remove the feathered hairclip and Lamplight Lily tucked near his temple. You tried your best not to touch his skin, but he probably didn’t feel it.

His hair was even more stunning unbound. You couldn’t help but smile as you ran your fingers through the silky strands. You couldn’t lie to yourself—there were times when you were tempted to touch his beautiful hair, and now one of your secret dreams had come true.

“Monsieur Neuvillette’s hair is so lovely, isn’t it?” Serene said, beaming.

“It sure is,” you said. His hair had an awful tendency to get tangled and snagged in the smallest cracks and crevices, so you’ve always wondered why he didn’t cut it short for practicality’s sake. But honestly, if you had his hair, you would let it grow freely and run through the forest like a woodland creature, feeling your hair stream in the wind behind you. “I hope he never cuts it. It would be a tragedy for Fontaine when that happens.”

Your comment caused a horrified gasp to rise from the Melusines. “Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette, promise us that you’ll keep your hair as it is!” a few of them pleaded.

“I will not,” he assured them. “I prefer my hair the way it is as well.”

“They should pass a law that forbids scissors from being within three meters of Monsieur Neuvillette’s hair,” you said as you began to run the seashell comb through his hair.

“An interesting idea, though frivolous,” Neuvillette said. “I hardly think an edict like that would be much accepted among the people.”

“I think you’d be surprised at how many people are invested in your hair,” you said as you worked through a knot, trying to be as gentle as you could. You were thinking about an old classmate of yours who was obsessed with Neuvillette’s “luscious, pearlescent locks of moonlight” (the girl who coined that phrase would go on to write for the Steambird) and wondered what she would say if she saw you now. “And I don’t see how this law is any more frivolous than not being allowed to place fruit tarts on unheated trays or put unfinished Fonta in the middle of the road.”

“You’ve been reading up on the laws of Fontaine, Madame?” Neuvillette sounded genuinely surprised. “You never shown much interest in judicial affairs.”

“I am your wife, after all,” you said. And there’s not much else besides legal codices to read in your house, you added silently. A trip to the library was due. “It’s perfectly normal for a wife to take a little interest in her husband’s work, isn’t it? Some of it is actually quite interesting.”

You weren’t sure how much the Melusines knew about the truth of your marriage, but you thought you should at least put on the façade. Neuvillette didn’t say anything in response.

You tried to be as gentle as you could as you untangled the knots and snarls. Inwardly, you marvelled at how healthy and well-maintained his hair was. What is his haircare regimen? You once again wondered as you idly twirled a lock around your index finger. It even smelled nice. You had the urge to bury your face in his hair. I bet he’s the type who only uses soap to wash his hair. It must be a pain to brush it in the morning, though.

The long, blue ornaments were getting in the way. You grabbed them at the ends and pressed them down, but they bounced back up. Thinking that you should take them out, you looked for the place where they were clipped into his hair, only to find to your amazement that they were attached to his head.

You rubbed the ornaments between your fingers. They didn’t feel like they were made of synthetic materials. Were they…?

You heard a low grunt. “M-Madame…w-what are you doing?” Neuvillette sounded different. His voice was breathy, strained-sounding. Did you pull on his hair too hard?

“I wanted to move these blue hair ornaments, but…these aren’t ornaments, are they?”

“They are not.”

“Are they antennae, then? Or feelers?”

There was a brief silence. “They are horns ,” Neuvillette said at last. He sounded offended.

“Oh…” you looked at them again. What sort of creature would have such floppy horns, you thought, remembering how they fluttered about in the wind. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“You’ve never asked.”

“I see,” you said. “I’m sorry if I caused you pain.”

“You did not. It’s just that my horns are very…sensitive to touch, so please tell me beforehand if you are going to touch them.”

“Oh…okay,” You didn’t know what else to say. You hadn’t expected the conversation to go this way, and you were very glad that Neuvillette couldn’t see your face right now.

“Madame’s face is red!” a Melusine yelled. You turned and found a crowd of wide eyes flitting between you and Neuvillette.

You cleared your throat. “Who wants to help me braid Monsieur Neuvillette’s hair?” you said in an overly cheerful voice.

“Ooh, me, me!” the Melusines pressed forward eagerly. You inwardly let out a sigh of relief for diffusing the awkward situation, completely failing to notice the rosy flush that appeared on Neuvillette’s pale cheeks and the tensing of his neck.

With Neuvillette’s hair as the medium, you demonstrated various hairstyles—braids, ponytails, twin tails, and so on. It brought back fond memories of doing your sister’s hair. The Melusines happily helped with gathering flowers and ribbons to adorn Neuvillette’s hair. Much fun was had, and many pictures were taken. Neuvillette remained admirably composed upon seeing the monstrosities done to his hair in the mirror, but fortunately for him, no one else would ever see these sights.

Eventually, you felt hungry, and it was decided that dinner would be served shortly. As you were letting down Neuvillette’s hair, Topyas asked you a question. “Madame, why don’t you call Monsieur Neuvillette by just his name?”

“Well…” you had to think about it. Neuvillette, who had been shifting slightly, stilled. “It just feels a bit odd to not call him by his title. He’s such a great, accomplished man after all.”

“But aren’t you two married? I thought married couples call each other by their nicknames.”

“Everyone’s different,” you said, brushing Neuvillette’s hair. “Monsieur Neuvillette has always been Monsieur Neuvillette to me. He never calls me by my name either.”

“Huh, now that I think about it…” Topyas said, putting her hand on her chin. “That does make sense. It does feel a bit too formal, though.”

“Madame can call me whatever she feels most comfortable with,” Neuvillette said. “As I do with her.”

You tied the black ribbon to the end of his hair and returned the hair accessories to their original positions. You felt a complicated mix of emotions swirling within you.

Melusine cuisine was not what you expected. When the dishes were first served to you, you wondered if you were being poisoned. The meat was green and purple, and the dead eyes of the fish sticking out of the pie—it was called Poissonchant Pie, if you remembered correctly—briefly made you consider swearing off fish and pies for the rest of your life. And the scent was...stimulating, to say the least. Was this even edible , you wondered. You looked over at Neuvillette to see what he was going to eat.

“Why, this all looks delicious,” he said, surveying the dishes and smiling at the expectant crowd. “Thank you all for this wonderful meal.”

“Um...yes. Thank you, everyone,” you said.

Then, he elegantly brought a forkful of meat to his mouth, his eyes closed. In pleasure or resignation, you couldn’t tell. It didn’t seem to have any ill effects on him, but then again, he was not human, so it stood to reason that he had a stronger stomach than you.

Unfortunately, the sandwiches were all finished, and the Melusines were looking at you with their expectant bright eyes. You steeled yourself (and your stomach) and took a bite out of the oddly colored meat. Well, if I do get violently sick, at least Neuvillette is here. He can take me to the best doctors.

You forced yourself to chew and swallow. Surprisingly, the meat didn’t taste spoiled. In fact, it was quite good. You took another bite.

“Do you like my food, Madame?” the chef, Lutine, asked.

“Yes. It’s very good. You’re an excellent cook,” you said.

“Oh, I’m so happy to hear that!” she said with a sigh of relief. “Humans are put off by our dishes because of their appearances, so most of them don’t know how delicious our food actually is!”

“They’re definitely missing out,” you assured her, then sampled the pie. It was also very good, despite the eerie feeling that the fish were about to break into song. “There’s a lot of food here, though. I hope I can finish it all.”

“Monsieur Neuvillette only visits us here a few times a year, including his birthday,” Lutine explained. “So I make as many dishes as I could whenever he comes, so he can taste them all.”

“He only visits you a few times a year?” you repeated incredulously, looking at him. “Is he so busy?”

“Yes, he is. He almost never takes vacations,” it was Sedile, a Marechausee Phantom agent, who answered this time. “But now that he has you, Madame, maybe you can convince him to rest more.”

“Maybe,” you said vaguely, but you doubted you had that much influence on him. Next to you, Neuvillette continued to eat, not saying anything.

After the meal, you decided to take a private stroll in the side cavern where Mamere’s house was located. Neuvillette was being detained by the Melusines, so you slipped out when they weren’t looking.

Watching him and the Melusines made you feel a mix of emotions. It was gladdening to see him being surrounded by creatures who adored him so openly and unconditionally, but it also made you feel a bit lonely, like you were a star orbiting a sun on the outskirts of its gravitational field. He was much more relaxed with them as well, compared to when he was with you. It was almost as though you were seeing his real self.

It’s only natural, you thought to yourself. He and the Melusines have a long history together, and you’re just an outsider he didn’t even know existed until a few months ago. Besides, it’s hard to be so serious and formal with them.

There was no point in feeling gloomy. The sights here were far more interesting. You didn't have the Kamera with you, but that didn’t matter. You took enough pictures for one day. You just wanted to be alone with your thoughts and get some respite from all the bustle.

“Madame,” Neuvillette chose that moment to join you. “My apologies for leaving you all alone. But you mustn’t go off on your own like this. You can easily get lost in these caverns.”

“Don't worry about me,” you said. “I’ll stay close to the village. Please, feel free to go be with the Melusines. You’re their father, after all. I’ll join you later.”

“But we are on a date. It's highly ill-mannered of me to leave you alone.”

"Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette, there’s no need to keep up this pretense of a date. I do appreciate everything you’re doing and how seriously you’re taking this, but you should be concerned about your own relaxation more. You don’t visit Merusea Village as often as you would like, do you? You should make the most of your time here before we go back. I’ll be fine on my own. I’m used to it.”

You thought you sounded dependable and logical, but the look in Neuvillette’s eyes spoke otherwise. They were filled with alarm. His mouth moved, as though he wanted to say something, but no words came out. It was then that you knew that you had definitely said something wrong.

But before you could say anything, Neuvillette seemed to have finally found his words. “...Have I done something wrong?” His voice was a low whisper, but every word was transmitted to your ears clearly. It raised the hair on the back of your neck.

“W-What do you mean?” you frowned. “Of course not. You’ve been nothing but a perfect gentleman to me today.”

“What is it, then? Is this place not to your liking? Do you wish to go home now?” He took a step towards you, and you reflexively backed up. Neuvillette was looking down at you, his eyes piercing into your own. It didn’t strike you until then just how tall he was, and how intimidating he could be when he wanted to. Is this what criminals see? You thought even as your heartbeat hammered in your ears.

“No, not at all. I love this place and everyone here!” you shook your head vigorously. “I wish we could stay longer.”

“Then why are you pushing me away?” The usual silkiness in his voice was gone, replaced by something rougher and unfamiliar. You felt your heart beginning to beat quickly, your hands becoming slick with sweat. He took another step towards you. You stepped backwards once again and found yourself backed up against a pink wall.

“I-I’m not pushing you away! It’s just that I need a little bit of alone time to recover my energy after socializing with so many people, and there is no need for you to stick with me. It has nothing to do with you and the Melusines, and everything to do with me. I’m sure you understand that, don’t you, sir?”

“I do,” he said. “Indeed, I understand. But what I don’t understand is your insistence on there being no ‘need’ for me to stay by your side. If you ask it of me, I would be happy to accompany you in silence.”

“But I would not be,” you said. “Like I said before, this isn’t a real date, and we...aren’t a real couple. You don’t have to always be with me, especially since you don’t take a lot of personal holidays. I would rather you spend the free time you have with someone who isn’t as boring as me.”

You stated the last part matter-of-factly. It was simply the truth.

However, it seemed to have been the wrong thing to say.

Neuvillette stepped even closer to you. He bent down, his face so close to yours that your noses were practically touching.

“…Did Furina approach you?” he said, his voice as low as the bottom of the sea.

You stared at him blankly for a moment. Why was he bringing up Furina all of a sudden?

“She hasn’t,” you said after a pause.

Neuvillette’s intense gaze roved your face, as though to search for any signs of lying. You did your best to stare back at him. At last, he let out a breath and nodded slowly.

“Now,” you gritted out, putting all the force you could muster in your voice. “Could you please step away from me?”

At last, he seemed to realize that he was practically pinning you against the wall and quickly stepped back. A look of shame flashed across his face.

“My apologies,” he said at last. “I did not know what came over me.”

“Me neither,” you said curtly. “It’s very unlike you. Why did you ask me if Lady Furina approached me, anyways?”

Neuvillette did not answer, though you saw his jaw tense. His gaze flitted away from you. He seemed to have said something he shouldn’t have.

You pondered over it all. His question, his behavior over this past week, his fixation on being boring...it all clicked into place.

“Oh, it all makes sense now,” you said. Neuvillette’s face snapped back to yours. “Lady Furina called me boring and dull, didn’t she?”

Neuvillette’s silence was all the confirmation you needed.

“Is that all she said about me?”

“...Yes.”

“I see,” you nodded. It all made sense now. How ridiculous this whole situation was. It felt like a heavy load had been lightened. “So it was nothing, really.”

“You’re not offended?” Neuvillette looked so confused that you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. He flinched.

“Why would I be offended by the truth? It’s impressive how she was able to figure out my personality despite never meeting me. I suppose that’s to be expected of an Archon.”

“It is not true at all. She has no right to falsely disparage someone she has never met. You have every right to be angry. I will ask her to apologize to you.”

“There’s no need to go that far,” you exclaimed in shock. Furina was his superior, so you didn’t want to be the cause of conflict between the two of them, even though you doubted she would ever fire him. “Look, Monsieur Neuvillette, I know I’m not a very interesting person. Lady Furina isn’t the first person to call me boring. Plenty of others have before her as well. I’m used to it. It’s not the worst thing in the world, you know, to be called that. And—”

You broke off your sentence there, upon seeing the expression on his face. There was a deep furrow between his brows, and his jaw was clenched tightly. He looked...angry.

“Others have insulted you as well?” he said slowly. You found yourself suddenly fearing for the lives of those young ladies and gentlemen from so long ago.

“Well, I-I wouldn’t call it being insulted, e-exactly,” you stammered. Neuvillette’s eyes seemed to pin you in place. Grabbing onto whatever came to mind and vocalizing it was the only way to break the spell. “I-It’s just that my interests and hobbies aren’t what you call ‘in vogue,’ and you know, at balls, what most people want to talk about is the latest gossip and plays and fashion and things like that, all of which I’m woefully ignorant about. And, you know, I’m not beautiful, witty, or fashionable enough to make up for that, so really, it’s only natural for people to find me uninteresting. I don’t have much to offer.”

Oh, how wonderful. You hadn’t expected that your date would end up with you unearthing all your long-buried insecurities. A feeling of despair welled up within you. So much for maintaining a pleasant atmosphere. Of course, you would be the one to ruin this day.

“I don’t care anymore, though,” you hurriedly added, trying to salvage this in any way you could. “It’s all in the past now, when I was a teenager. In fact, I think having a plain personality is a benefit for the line of work I’ve chosen, so it all works out in the end. Like I said before, sir, being boring isn’t a crime and—”

“But you were hurt before,” Neuvillette interrupted. His eyes reminded you of rippling pools of water. You wanted to run away, but it was as though your legs had turned into stone. “And you are still hurt.”

“No, I told you, I’m completely over it! It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s nothing but petty teenage angst.”

“If you are over it, as you say, then why are you fixated on the idea that I would be bored with you. Even if it is in the past, it still occurred, and you continue to be affected by it. You have every right to be angry, to hold a grudge against those people.”

Now you recognized that additional emotion in his eyes. It was sadness. His eyes were rippling with unshed tears, and his lips were pressed tightly together.

He looked like he was about to cry.

You were utterly baffled. Why did he seem more upset than you about this? You had told him the truth. Those feelings of sadness, inferiority, and self-loathing were buried deep inside you long ago. You had made sure of it. Compared to the teenaged you from so long ago, you now felt lighter, as free as a bird.

“I...I don’t understand,” you whispered. Your voice came out a rasp. “Why do you care so much, sir? I’m sure you’ve seen people who suffered far worse than me."

“Why would I not care?” Neuvillette said. He placed his large, gloved hands on your shoulders. The gentle but firm weight of them made something within you unfurl. “You are someone dear to me. I cannot forgive anyone who has hurt you, even if they are the Archon herself. It does not matter how minor a slight it may be. Your feelings should be valued as much as anyone else’s. And...it pains me deeply when I hear you talk about yourself in such a way, that you believe them.”

Long buried memories resurrected themselves and flashed through your mind.

Of disinterested eyes sizing you up, then passing over you like you weren’t even there, landing on girls much more beautiful, girls you could never hope to be.

Of barely concealed bored looks, looking past you to someone much more interesting.

Of incredulous sneers and raised eyebrows upon hearing of your interest in pressing flowers and Remurian history, and quick switches to far worldlier topics, like overseas vacations or the latest plays at the Opera Epiclese. Conversations you couldn’t even hope to partake in, because you came from a family that could only afford to go to the opera house once a year. You didn’t even have the confidence to bluff your way through these things.

Balls, you had quickly learned, were like plays. You were either in a starring role, or you were a background actor without even a name.

It wasn’t as though anyone had ever publicly humiliated you or ganged up on you like something out of a cheap romance novel. You were too insignificant for that.

Eventually, you had learned to endure these little jabs, hardening your mind and heart. You were a poor baron’s daughter, someone with very little standing in the grand scheme of things. You couldn’t afford to offend your betters, anyways. There was nothing you could do except to shrug it off, to polish and improve yourself, and to make yourself worthy of being seen and chosen. Your parents had told you so as well. You couldn’t--shouldn’t--rely on them in such matters. They had their hands tied as well.

The only one you could rely on was yourself. If no one else was there to pick up the pieces, then you would have to be the one to do it. That was a philosophy you had lived by, and it worked out for you so far.

But now...

You stared at the distraught man in front of you. A man with too much empathy for someone who didn’t deserve it, especially compared to those who had gone through actual suffering.

You wanted to push him away again, to reassure him that there was nothing to be sad about, that it was wasted on you. You wanted to tell him to go be with someone happier, more cheerful, and to leave you be in your misery until you could recover yourself once more and go back to him with a smile.

But then you remembered that young girl crying into her pillow after a particularly difficult ball where she didn’t get asked to dance even once. The herbarium (as you had insisted on calling it) that you diligently maintained since you were a child, thrown away in the trash.

Even boring, dull girls had feelings to hurt.

You stepped towards him and wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, burrowing your face into his jacket.

“Madame...?” you heard his stunned voice above your head. But his arms wrapped around you tightly, bringing you deeper into his embrace. Hot tears prickled the back of your eyelids, but you let them flow. You could pay for his dry cleaning later.

“Thank you,” you mumbled into his clothes, then raised your head to look straight into his eyes. “Neuvillette. For always thinking of my feelings, far more than I do myself. It makes me...very happy.”

You really were a terrible friend. You thought you were putting him at ease by maintaining a respectable distance between the two of you, by dismissing his worries. But that had the opposite effect.

He coddled you, something you hated, but maybe it was okay to sink and give in sometimes.

“There is no need to thank me,” Neuvillette said. “I am only doing what I ought to do.”

“I know. And that’s what I love about you.”

Neuvillette’s eyes widened. You made no explanation for your words. He placed his hand on the back of your head and gently stroked it. You closed your eyes, wanting to engrave this warmth into your memories.

Suddenly, you heard gasps and giggles coming from the cavern’s entrance. Both you and Neuvillette whipped your heads in that direction. Small, colorful heads squealed and quickly hid behind a rock.

“It looks like we got an audience,” you said.

“Indeed. How troublesome,” Neuvillette said. Neither of you let go of each other.

One little Melusine poked her head out from the rock. “Kiss!” she shouted.

Several of her sisters joined her. “Monsieur Neuvillette, kiss her!”

The two of you looked at each other. Neuvillette’s face was a mixture of awkwardness, embarrassment, and affection. Your face mirrored his, you were sure.

"Neuvillette, can you bend down for me?” you whispered, then changed your mind and stood up on your tiptoes, then pressed your lips against his smooth, marble cheek. But unlike marble, it was soft and warm.

You heard a sharp inhalation from Neuvillette, which was quickly followed by a chorus of high-pitched squeals and cheers.

As you watched Neuvillette’s cheeks turn red and felt your own burn, you couldn’t help but think that Furina had been on the right track with this whole marriage business, even if you disagreed with the way she went about it.

Neuvillette deserved to have someone who loved him wholeheartedly and without hesitation. Someone who can serve as a comforting shelter for him, just like he did for you.

“Do you really have to leave so soon?”

You and Neuvillette were standing at the entrance to Merusea Village once more. The Melusines were gathered there to see you off.

“It is almost dusk. I must bring Madame home before it gets dark,” Neuvillette told them. The Melusines let out “Awws” of disappointment.

“I had a wonderful time with all of you. I’ll never forget it,” you assured them, patting your purse. As a parting gift, they had given you a heap of shiny components, which you gratefully accepted, although you wondered where you were going to put it all.

“Thank you all for being such good hosts for us,” Neuvillette said, patting their heads. You did the same.

As you looked at the rows of smiling faces, you thought that those who were loved by Neuvillette were the luckiest people in the world.

“Madame, when you visit us for Monsieur Neuvillette’s birthday, I’ll play a song I composed for you!” Topyas said.

“Neuvillette's birthday?” you repeated quizzically.

“That’s right! He visits us every year on his birthday. Lutine bakes a really tasty cake for him, too. You will come with him as well, right?”

Neuvillette’s birthday was at the end of the year, if you remembered correctly. Would you even be married to him by then?

But faced with such a shining, hopeful visage, you could do nothing except smile and nod.

“Madame, we’re above water now.”

Neuvillette said into your ear. He watched as your eyes opened slowly, the fluttering of your eyelashes reminding him of a butterfly’s wings. You let out your held breath, which caused the strands of his hair to flutter. His arm was under your knees, and your arms were circled around his neck. Your head was resting on his shoulder. A small part of him wished he delayed in telling you that you had emerged from the water.

He carefully set you down on the ground, steadying you by holding your elbow. You smiled up at him gratefully, then turned your head to the scenery in front of you.

“Oh, did it rain?” you looked around. Indeed, there were shallow puddles on the dirt path that led to this pool, and the grass was glistening with water droplets. The air had that pure, refreshing quality of a passed storm. “It’s good that we missed it.”

Neuvillette could only nod. There was something different here. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Shall we head back to the boat now? Oh, I hope it hasn’t gotten too drenched by the rain.”

The two of you began to walk back to the beach. Neuvillette offered his elbow to you, worried that you might slip on the wet, muddy ground, and you linked your arm through it, thanking him. As you strolled down the path, your arms brushing against each other, it hit him, suddenly, what was different.

The small space that you maintained between you and him had disappeared.

The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink. Little birds chirped in the trees. As you neared the beach, Neuvillette saw ships of all sizes, either sailing back to Fontaine or setting off to distant harbors.

Neither of you spoke much. Neuvillette was reminded of the calm and quiet after a storm, when everything was newly refreshed and washed clean.

The tension he had sensed from you ever since he met you remained, but it seemed to have been chipped away a little bit. He still wasn’t sure what happened, but he was glad of it.

All he knew was that he was a terrible judge of character.

He had assumed that being a quiet, mild-mannered woman, he wouldn’t have the issue of having to deal with being overwhelmed by extreme emotions, but he was wrong.

When he was with you, every emotion within him, from joy to sadness to anger, seemed magnified tenfold.

The boat was there, right where he had docked it. Neuvillette did not have many chances to go boating, and he always preferred to swim anyways. However, recalling how your hair blew in the wind and how your eyes sparkled as you gazed out at sea, he was beginning to see its charms.

“What a beautiful sunset!” he heard you exclaim. The orange sun was near the horizon, gilding the waves gold.

For a moment, the two of you simply stared at the sight. Had a sunset ever been this mesmerizing before?

“Neuvillette, let’s take a picture together with the sunset in the background. We never took a picture of just us together, have we?” you turned to him suddenly.

For a moment, Neuvillette didn’t register your words. His mind was too preoccupied with the sunset, trying to figure out what made this one so different from the thousands he viewed before. And then, it struck him lightning.

"You’re...calling my name without my title now.” That was the first thing that came out of his mouth. He inwardly cringed at his forwardness.

“Um...yes,” you said, looking a little bashful. “To be honest, it is a little silly of me to keep calling you Monsieur for so long, since we’re friends. Do you hate it?”

“No, not at all,” he shook his head vigorously. Hearing you call him by simply his name, even if it wasn’t his real name, sparked something in him. He felt like he was hearing his name for the first time when it came from your lips. “And yes, let us take a picture together.”

You fiddled with the Kamera and walked around to get the right position and to figure out the timer function. Once that was done, you ran back to him, having placed the device on a nearby tree stump. There was five seconds before the Kamera would go off. Before this moment would be captured forever.

“May I put my arm around your shoulders, Madame?” he asked. It felt wrong to just stand side by side.

“Yes,” you nodded, and just as he did so, the Kamera’s flash went off.

I hope I had a good expression on my face, he thought. Smiling on command was not an ability he possessed.

“Shall we go now?” you said after you retrieved the Kamera. “It’ll be getting dark soon.”

“Wait, there is one more thing I need,” he said. It was something he had been waiting for all day.

“What is it?” You looked up at him.

“Madame, do you remember how you said that you will give me feedback for the date? Would you allow me to receive it now?”

“Feedback?” you repeated, your expression incredulous. “Wait, you actually want it?”

“Yes, of course I do,” he said. “Your opinion means a great deal to me.”

“If that's the case...” you tilted your head slightly, frowning. “I must admit that I have very little experience with dates and other romantic things of that nature. I’m not sure if my opinion would be very valuable.”

“It does not matter. I want to know what you think.”

"Alright then, if you insist,” you cleared your throat dramatically. Neuvillette leaned forward a little unconsciously. “In all my days of existence, I have never enjoyed myself more than today. If I were to suddenly drop dead right now, then at least I’m dying happy.”

“Surely you exaggerate.” Neuvillette was never quite able to grasp your sense of humor.

“Maybe a little,” you admitted, letting out a small laugh. There was something bright in it that made his heart beat just a little faster. “It’s definitely in my top ten, though. After all, I was able to go to places I’ve never been before, meet new people, and experience new things. And best of all, I had a delightful companion by my side. What more can I ask for?”

“You truly think I’m a delightful companion?” It was rare for anyone to describe him that way.

“I do,” you said, conviction in your voice. “Better than I deserve, really.”

Neuvillette looked at you, taking you in. He felt a small amount of guilt upon hearing your words.

Truthfully, he had chosen the locations for today’s outing—the Weeping Willow of Erinnyes and Merusea Village—not only because he wished to take you to his favorite places.

He was driven by a selfish, vain desire to show himself in the best light to you by taking you to the places where he was most comfortable.

Entertaining guests was not his strong suit. Taking a young lady out on a date was even less so. He lacked ideas as to where to take you, so he defaulted to these remote locations, far from the human world that he had little interest in.

But as he looked at your content face, he felt something like a chasm within him. It was ever-widening, an inexplicable need to be filled.

Self-indulgence was dangerous. He was well-aware of that. It would be difficult to escape such a trap, no matter how sweetly it beckoned.

Perhaps his time in the human world had weakened his resolve.

“Let me take you to a restaurant next time,” the words came out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. “I am no expert on cuisine, but...”

“I’ll choose for us, then,” you said. “There are a few places I’ve been dying to try out.”

Neuvillette nodded. He silently pledged to savor whatever was served to him, no matter how dry it may be.

He reached out his hand to help you onto the boat, but you didn’t take it. Instead, you asked him a question.

“Did you have a good time today, Neuvillette?”

He was startled. “Why do you ask?”

“Because this is a date. It’s a collaboration between two people. It's not a good date if only one of us enjoyed ourselves.”

Neuvillette pondered your question. He thought of your look of wonder upon seeing the willow tree and Merusea Village, the sight of you playing and chatting with the dear Melusines, the little smiles you’d give him, the feel of you in his arms, the sensation of your hands in his hair and around his horns, the kiss...

How could one day feel so long and yet so short at the same time?

A rush of warmth surged through his body. He took your hand in his and raised it to his mouth. Then, before your astonished eyes, he brushed his lips against the back of your hand.

“This day will be engraved into my memories until the end of time,” he said solemnly, looking directly into your eyes. “I have no complaints about anything. You were absolutely perfect.”

He saw your cheeks becoming rosy. You looked away, but he didn’t miss the way your lips turned up in a smile. “And you say I exaggerate,” he heard you mumble.

The two of you went onboard the boat and sailed back home.

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thecapricunt1616 · 10 months ago

Text

The Bear & His Honey - Chapter 11

♡ Chapter Inspo: Song Lyrics; State Of Grace - Red(TV) TS "And I never saw you coming, and I'll never be the same"

♡♡》》𝟙𝟠+ 𝕆ℕ𝕃𝕐 𝔽𝕀ℂ! ℕ𝕆 𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕆ℝ𝕊 𝔸𝕃𝕃𝕆𝕎𝔼𝔻《《♡♡

♡ Summary: Carm goes to see Winnie after a long day at work, Winnie discovers that famous chefs like Carmy have fans & she introduces him to the world of fandom. They have a chat about BDSM and possibly exploring it more.

♡ W/C: 8,384

♡ Posted Date: 03/07/2024

♡ A/N: Helloooo all!! FIRST Just so y'all know for the story - Winnie is like 4'11 on a good day, Carmy/JAW is like 5'7/5'8 - so that's why Winnie seems so 'small' , they really have a normal height difference for a couple lol JAW is a short king. Anywho I saw a post abt. how there are actually fanfics for famous chefs and stuff and I looked it up- it is totally true!!! Loves it, So of course it inspired this chapter hehehe I feel like Carm would totally be an old man and not even KNOW what fanfic is but Winnie is a professional fangirl. Also - I am currently watching TS in Singapore & DBATCxBabe?!?!?!? IM SCREAMING!! Dead dead gone!! I predicted thissss heheheheh

♡ Warnings for BTC: Smutsmutsmut, BDSM talk, OH period sex (sowwy ik some people don't like that but u can skip and winniexcarm will be back next week with some fluffy goodness) getting lazy w these warnings but if you've made it this far in the fic nothing will trigger you i've already gotten most the triggering shit outta the way.

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱. 🍯

When I heard a light knock at my door, I giddily jumped up from my comfy nest in bed I’d created for myself and dashed over, opening the door right away and Carmy dropped his hand away from the peephole, smirking.

“And what if I was a killer this time, did you even look?” he stepped in the doorway, wrapping his arms around my waist and his hands sliding down to squeeze my bum gently.

I laughed a bit, wrapping my arms around his middle, crossing my fingers, and draping my arms around him lightly. “I guess I was so excited to see you I’d have been dead, kisses now” I puckered my lips up and closed my eyes expectantly.

“Mmm…I’m expecting my test to be aced next time I come over yeah?” he pecks my lips sweetly and I open my eyes, furrowing my brows a bit before giggling.

“Test” I repeated, “You’re testing me?” I rested my forehead against his, gazing into the blue eyes I’d missed so much even though it’d only been 8 hours since I’d seen him last.

“Y’can’t open up the door without checkin’, baby. This is a decent area- but Chicago is fuckin’ nuts” he nudged the door closed with his foot and tightened his grip on my waist slightly, the feeling of the calouses over his fingers causing goosebumps to rise over my flesh..

“Fine, but only cause I’m sooo obedient..for you” I pulled him into another kiss, wrapping my fingers in his frizzy curls and humming happily. I ran my tongue over his, enjoying the taste of tobacco and the minty gum he must have gotten rid of just before he got here. I feel his tense muscles relax slightly under my touch as I gently scratched my nails against his scalp. We made out for a few heavenly minutes, our noses bumping sweetly, him running his hands up my waist to my lower back, rubbing soft, soothing strokes back and forth.

He pulled away slightly, causing my eyes to flutter open and find his gaze. “Hm?” I questioned and he smiled a bit.

“I uh- I smell like work, I need to shower, honey” he kissed my forehead tenderly, his lips lingering for a sweet moment.

I buried my face in his neck, inhaling deep and dramatically, letting out a satisfied hum which made him laugh, his chest shaking with movement.. “Mmmm…you smell soo good I love the way you smell Carmy, a little kitcheny, but still you,” I mumble into his shirt and he rubs up my back, his nails brushing over my ribs..

“You are fuckin’ weird babe,” he said, causing me to giggle and look up at him, resting my chin where it met his sternum and gazing up at him with a cheeky grin.

“Better get used to it, go and shower, pretty-boy- I can give you a massage after and everything if ya want. And I promise I’ll control myself this time” I said, pulling away with a step back. “Maybe” I added and he chuckled, grabbing his backpack from where he dropped it on the floor and heading to the bathroom.

“We both know you have shown little self-control around me while shirtless” he nudged it open, zipping open his backpack and dropping his usual grey sweatpants and boxers on the bathroom counter before tossing the bag on the floor.

I gasp playfully at his accusation, “I’m Sorry- are you calling me thirsty?” I stood in the doorway, arms crossed with a playful grin.

He hummed and shrugged, turning on the shower and tugging his hoodie off, and undershirt as well. Of course, I watched- what male-attracted person wouldn’t watch him undress if given the chance?

He brushes his hair back from the ruffling of the fabric, turning to pull the shower curtain open and I got the stellar show of watching his toned muscles flex beneath his skin as he does so.

He reached down, unbuckling his belt, the metal buckle jingling as he pulled it off with one long tug, an action that had me readjusting my stance in the doorway to ease the now pulsing ache between my thighs.

He unbuttoned his jeans, pulling the zipper down casually, and stepped towards the door, breaking my trance. “Mmhm…thirsty” he said softly with a smirk, pecking my lips before shutting the door in my face.I scoffed, blinking a few times in surprise and my cheeks going hot at the very true accusation.

“Oh wow! Wow! A girl can’t enjoy free eye candy in her own damn house in which she pays the bills!?” I called through the door as I headed to my room with a smile, hearing him chuckle a bit.

I laid back on my bed, opening my phone and going back to my scrolling on Tik Tok. It was about 10 minutes of senseless scrolling while listening to the water run- before, for some strange reason, I had the urge to click the search button and type in Carmy’s name.

It felt…a little creepy. But- I pushed the shame off telling myself its normal to want to see someone you’re seeing’s social media, so I decided to feed that little voice in my mind telling me it was a good idea.

And boy was it a great idea.

The first 20 or so videos were absolute fan-cams of Carmen from different interviews he’d done for different events, award shows, etc. and the comments were absolutely filthy- and also spoke to my very soul for the way he made me feel..

‘Oh- I KNOW it’s big- FS fs!!’

‘I need him in a way thats concerning to feminism- like..strip my rights away’

‘He seems SO unhinged&crazy abt his craft…I NEED him’

‘Chef- more like DADDY’

‘You KNOW he's ripped, look at the armsss- and the HANDS?! NEED EM AROUND MY MF THROAT!!!’

Each comment i’d read I was giggling more, but then- an even better thought popped into my mind, if theres fancams… There has to be fanfiction.

I nearly sprained a thumb opening my Tumblr app and typing in his name in the search bar. I giggled maniacally as if I just struck gold about 5 minutes later of digging through reposts of photoshoots he’d done fore magazines that I was amazed he didnt post on his personal instagram- when I struck the first one.

Little gasps and giggles left my lips as I continued to read through the post. Being honest with myself, I wasn’t giggling at the people posting- I was giggling because I knew Carm doesn’t have a clue about this- and I can not wait to see the look on his face when I tell him about it.

I was so engulfed in the story of some fantasy someone had about Carm roughly fucking them in over the counter in the kitchen, giggling at the idea, that I hadn’t even heard the shower water cut off.

I wish we could do that in the kitchen after everything was closed - but truth be told, Carmy is way too shy for public stuff, at least right now. But damn- after he leaves me in the mornings? I should be reading up on his tumblr tag for ideas because holy fuck- these bitches are filthy whores in the best way.

The bathroom door clicks open and he flicked off the bathroom light. “What’s all the gigglin’ out here missy?” he asked amusedly, coming over to now his side of the bed. I looked up to see him shirtless, clad in the light grey sweatpants I’d come to love so much that hung low off of his toned hips.

“Uh-” I said, the meer view of him completely erasing all previous thoughts from my brain. Fuck his curls are so much more pronounced when they’re wet, it drives me nuts. No wonder his chest is so curly…

“TikTok?” he asks when I don’t reply, instead just admiring his frame, kneeling on the mattress and getting in bed next to me and he sees the Tumblr app open with a screen full of text. “Readin’ then, baby?” he asks now, and I realize I still hadn’t said anything, my focus on the little curly patch of hair that adorned the middle of his chest.

“Everyone wants to fuck you” I said the first thing that came to my mind, my eyes flickering to his finally, and he laughed. His head fell back on the headboard, eyes crinkling up in amusement adorably.

“What?” he asked, poking my side playfully. “Who wants to fuck me? I haven’t gotten any offers as of late other than you, of course” he snorts and pushed his wet curls back off his forehead.

“N-no you’re like…famous, Carm, like- alot of people want to fuck famous chef’s.. I didn’t realize it before but it’s like..a kink? I guess? Like.. how I wanna fuck winged dudes, but some girls ultimate kink is a super sexy, awarded, top of the line chef ” I giggled and his eyebrows raised, a smirk forming on his lips.

“A kink?” he shakes his head amusedly, rolling his eyes lightly. “And who told you this baby. Sadie?” he asked and it was my turn to laugh.

“No! No, It was me, I figured it out… have- have you not looked yourself up on TikTok? People like, they make fancams with the interviews you’ve done at those um- the James Beard award things for the last few years? And the other interviews about how you’ve come up that you did back in New York..they’re like- people want you, Carm, really- like, you have these bitches pussys meowing.” I said with a giggle, smiling wide as a blush crept to his cheeks.

“The fuck is a fancam?” he asks, causing me to giggle.

“You are such an old man sometimes, you know that right?” I pecked his lips and he squeezed my cheeks when I try to pull away, smushing my lips into a dramatic pout.

“I’m only three years older than you, you know that right?” he said and kissed my lips once more before letting me go.

I laugh at his firmness on the matter. “Three years closer to 30, mister 27 and 24, 2 very different check points” I teased and went back to my tik tok likes. His eyebrows raised as he leaned in, wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me closer when he saw my last 13 likes in the previews contained his face.

“Should I be scared?” He mumbled into my neck with a soft chuckle, his minty breath hitting my senses.

“Mmm…Knowing you you’re gonna be all flustered, especially by the comments” I said, clicking on the first one. I smiled as I watched, “Look at that sexy little chef” I teased and he pinched my waist playfully as ‘Serpentine’ by The Gorillaz played in the background.

“S’what- people just like, look at me with music? Wait- why-why does it keep cutting to pictures of my hands from that article?” he questions, causing me to laugh and bury my face in the pillow at his pure obliviousness. “Hey! Tell me do I have weird hands?” he asks causing me to giggle harder.

“Carmen oh my god!” I catch my breath. “You are so oblivious to your hotness, its adorable. No babe, no. Everyone is turned on by your hands, your hands are like…girlporn.” I explained, and his eyebrows raised in confusion, his cheeks bright pink.

“Girlporn.” he repeats, and I nodded enthusiastically with an amused smile.

“I don’t believe that- I think y’re all makin’ fun of my hands, open the comments” he said and I roll my eyes playfully, obliging and reading some of my favorites out loud.

“Wow- these girls get me, Carm. ‘I know its big’ , ‘I need those hands around my neck-oops.’, ‘do you think he’s as passionate in bed as he is about the kitchen?’ oooo- I wanna reply and say yes to that one” I giggle and he takes my phone from my hand, scrolling. The light on his face accentuated his blush and he bit his lip in concentration as he scrolls.

“Who are all these people” he muttered to himself, causing me to laugh a bit.

“Your fanclub baby, I told you - people love you, and they love what you do and the passion you have for it” I kiss his shoulder gently. “You haven't even read the fanfiction yet” I giggled into his skin and he looks down at me, offering the phone back quickly.

“Show” he ordered, and I laughed. “Seriously, honey! Show! I’m frankly a little freaked out.” he said and I took the phone, going back to Tumblr.

“Babe, its nothing to be afraid of, they’re just horny 20-somethings like we are. And you’re like- mega famous? You’re like….Like- the Harry Styles of chefs! Of course like every bitch in culinary school is gonna be after your dick” I said, causing him to laugh.

“Oh my god- you really are something. C’mon, Read to me, about me- er how people think I am?” he chuckled and got comfy in bed, wrapping his arms around my waist and snuggling me into his chest.

“Mmm so I’m your personal book slash fanfiction reader now?” I said teasingly, resting my head back against his chest and he kissed the top of my head sweetly.

“Mhmm, and we can stay up as late as we want, I have tomorrow off” he said and I gasped happily, looking up at him with stars of pure joy in my eyes.

“You are?” I squeak with a broad smile and he beamed at my excitement, kissing my lips tenderly and resting his forehead on mine.

“Mmmhmm, all y’rs t’morrow babygirl, you workin’?” he asked and I withered a bit, realizing I did, in fact, have obligations tomorrow.

“No- well…kinda, I have therapy at 1, and then I have the rest of the day, but my sessions are 3 hours.” I said my eyes fluttering to his lips before meeting his again.

“Good girl” he said softly before kissing my lips dearly. My tummy flutters, and I feel warmth rush to my core at the name. He doesn’t know how much praise like that does to me.

I delicately run my fingers through his damp curls, opening my mouth for him and humming in satisfaction at the minty taste that flares across my tongue almost instantly. I looped a curl around my finger absentmindedly, relishing in the taste of him.

I interlaced our legs together, so every bit of possible flesh was being touched by him, soothingly running my calf along his. He huffs a small laugh into my mouth before pulling away.

“Are we close enough now baby?” He kissed my jaw gently and nuzzled his face in my neck. I smiled wide, interlocking the fingers of my free hand with his.

“Nope” I respond jokingly. Abruptly, I was being rolled over on top of him with one swift motion, only needing one of his arms to flip me like a ragdoll. I squeak in surprise, catching myself by straddling his hips with my thighs tightly and wrapping my arms around his middle, my phone lost someplace in the mass disarray of the blankets.

“There we go angel, can’t be closer.” he said, pleased at his work. He wrapped his arms around my back and tucked his hands under my shirt, rubbing long strokes over my skin.

“Mmm” I said happily, comfortably tucking my icy hands between his warm muscular back and the mattress “sooo warm” I said, giggling a bit when I sense him shiver slightly at the contact.

“Jesus babe. Why the fuck are y’r hands so cold” he murmured, gently grazing my back with his short nails causing my eyes to flutter shut in ecstasy

I sighed softly in appreciation “keep doin’ that bear, it feels really good” I expressed, nuzzling my face in the crook of his neck comfortably.

“Course babygirl” he said tranquily, causing a small smile to form on my lips.

“I love it when you call me names…” I said calmly into his skin, gently kissing his neck.

“I love it when you call me Bear” he replied lightly, squeezing my hip with the free hand that wasn’t doing the scratching.

“Good cause I love calling you Bear, it fits you, baby.” I kissed his jaw adoringly before sitting up slightly, resting my hands on his chest for support.

“Alexa, lights out bitch.” I said loud enough for the speaker to pick up, before laying back down.

“Okay, lights out, bitch.” The speaker replied before my tv shut off, as well as my lamps, the only glow in the room being my soft fairy lights. I feel Carms chuckle beneath me and I look down at him.

“I can’t with you..Y’re not gettin’ out of reading that to me, y’know. I wanna know what people think I’m like” he said and I roll my eyes with a smile.

“Fine- but I was only sparing you, a lot of the stuff they wrote is really filthy and I know you’re kinda shy” I settle back on his chest, holding my phone to the right of his shoulder where I could see.

“Now I’m really interested” he snorts and I roll my eyes.

“This one, is called Yes, Chef” I whispered the title in his ear seductively and nibbled at his earlobe, giggling when I felt his palm come down on my ass in a gentle spank.

“Cut it with the theatrics and read, honey” he said with a smile

“Okay! Ok fine. Here’s the summary; ‘Valerie is a 20 year old college student, who got a summer job as a food runner at Chicagos finest restaurant- The Bear, with world famous chef prodigy Carmen Berzatto, things got hot and heavy on her first day in the kitchen.’ ”

I read and he snorts a laugh. “Wow ok so firstly- she can’t even drink, way too young for me, and second- her first day?! Jesus people must think I’m a fuckin’ douchebag. The prodigy thing was a nice touch though.” he said simply and I giggled.

“Just wait. It’s not supposed to be like…realistic. It’s only a fantasy.” I explained and started reading. A few paragraphs in when it started to hit the plot point, he interrupts.

“Okay- what?” He laughs and I look up at him, an amused smile on his lips.

“Have you ever seen me wear rings in the kitchen? Ever?” He questions, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh my godddd” I groaned dramatically, giggling into his chest. “Carmy! Fantasy. The rings have purpose, just wait.” I said and he rolled his eyes, leaning down and kissing the top of my head.

“Fine. Continue, but this isn’t realistic. Rings are so unsanitary baby I’d never wear them in the kitchen” he rubs over my back gently.

I continued on getting through a few more paragraphs before my sneaky eyes betrayed me, reading slightly ahead “ooo this is where it gets really good babe. ‘I could barely reply, and he must’ve known that because he lets out an almost mocking laugh, and growls in my ear “like that mm? Little slut loves getting filled out by her boss on her first day?” he spanks me so hard the sound bounces off the walls, and I’m sure there will be a bruise-“

“Okay woah- I’d never hit you that hard what the fuck” he said, a bit shocked causing me to giggle.

“Why not?” I look up at him and his eyebrows furrow in concern.

“You want me to hit you during sex?” He questioned, his hands going still on my back. I shrug a bit, thinking it over.

“I’m more of a praise person, but if degradation like that gets you off- I think it’s hot. But…scenes like that where it’s all rough- it’s pretty emotionally draining. I’d just need more aftercare.” I said softly, gently tracing over the triangle on his chest with my forefinger absentmindedly as I spoke.

“Like…BDSM? You’re into that?” He asked and I put my phone down, nodding a bit.

“Yeah..I mean- yeah. You aren’t?” I asked, slightly anxious for the answer.

It didn’t bother me if Carm only wanted to have the same vanilla-esc sex we’d been having, but I would be much more fulfilled sexually if he would try more daring things out with me.

“I-I’ve never um…done it. Like- not…not anything real like- spanking, sure- but I’ve heard it’s like a whole…culture of stuff, and I don’t- I don’t really understand it.” He said quietly, his cheeks going pink.

I smiled a bit, leaning in and kissing his lips tenderly, gently cupping his cheeks and rubbing my thumbs along his stubble. Had he even went home, or did he come straight back here? My heart fluttered at the idea of him being so excited to get back to me, he didn’t even bother stopping at home.

“We can learn what you like, together baby.” I said softly when I pulled away, gently stroking his cheekbone with my thumb.

“What do you like?” He asked, equally as quiet as he gazed into my eyes. I could see all the curiosity behind his icy blues, and it almost made me giddy that I was the one who got to properly introduce him to this world.

“The part of BDSM I like, is more psychological control than physical. I do like bondage, I love breath play, impact play is a maybe. I like being spanked, I’ve thought about belt play for sure - but I do not want you to slap me across the face or shove me around in like… a mean way. But what really turns me on is the dom-sub dynamic outside the bedroom. I’ve never had like- a real dom but I’ve wanted one. A soft dom... But I don’t do like…hookups, or friends with benefits. I want it intertwined in to my actual romantic life..which can be kinda hard to find. But…I could see you being really good at the soft dom thing.” I expressed, playing with his curls gently as I talked with my cheek flush to his chest.

“I know what Dom and sub is..but what’s soft Dom? Like- a Dom that isn’t good enough er- like.. Strong enough to be a full dominant?” He questions and I sit up from his chest, my gaze meeting his one more quickly.

“Baby, no…no. Absolutely not. You are fucking amazing. A soft dom is a preference. Just like I said how I love praises, soft doms use rewards more then punishments. Instead of demanding something out of a sub, like- forcing it out of them, they’ll give an order a precise order, and patiently wait for their submissive to follow it, and then they reward their sub, instead of punishing because they were made to wait or something... That’s an attitude I think you’d take on really effortlessly, just cause of your job and the tolerance it requires” I explained and he nodded a bit, his hands once more continuing to rub soothing strokes along my skin.

“So…you like being told what to do, but in a nice way?” He questioned, and I nodded with a smile.

“Exactly. And I love praises when I’m doing something you like. Soft dom’s aren’t about humiliation or degradation, which I don’t think you are. Just from what we’ve done…but- do you like degrading?” I asked and he bit his lip for a moment as he thought.

“No…no- I dunno…I don’t wanna hurt your feelings baby, isn’t the point of sex to feel good?” He questioned and I gently stroke his cheek, my heart turning to goop at his honesty in the question.

“Mmhmm, some people feel good when they’re being mean like that though. It’s all consensual, I think if I was into that it would be because I want to take back control, y’know? In a way, being slapped around as a woman- I guess in a situation that you’re controlling it can help us feel…safer?” I shrug a bit “but you aren’t a sadist Carm, we don’t have to do that.” I rest my cheek back on his chest, continuing to rub my fingers over the little curly patch of hair in the middle of his pecs.

“Well t’me it would just feel…wrong? Like..to call you a slut or something.” I giggled a bit, resting my chin on his chest again to look at him.

“You can do it in a nice way y’know? I’m talking about like- for instance ‘all you’re good for is being a slut’ I don’t like that. But if you were like ‘That’s it my good little slut you’re doing such a great job for me’ I’d probably love it. Because to me it’s like- If I’m your slut, if I belong to you.. it’s different than being just a slut- I guess I probably have a bit of an ownership kink.” I giggled and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Where’d you learn how to talk like that Jesus” he muttered, his hands sliding down and squeezing my ass firmly. “I…” he trails off for a moment.

“What baby? Tell me” I said encouragingly.

“I think..” he clears his throat. “I think I like praise too?” He said his cheeks going flaming red at the admission. “I-is that normal f’r guys t’like that?” He asked quietly, clearly anxious that he’d possibly said something wrong.

“Yes, yes baby, thank you for telling me, what kind of praise do you like?” I asked, gently tracing the veins along his neck with a feather-light touch.

He swallows thickly, goosebumps covering his skin. “Um..I- I dunno…but it- I-I guess the idea sounds nice? C-can you give me some examples..maybe?” He asked nervously, his thumbs rubbing circles into the flesh of my bum that he was still holding on to firmly.

“Mm..well it’s not so much of an example as it is a real thought I just haven’t said out loud.. when we were in the shower and you were all bossy telling me to bend over, that was so fucking hot. I think about it all the time when I’m getting off, it always gets me there.” I smirk, gently playing with his chain between my fingers, tugging lightly.

His pupils dilated, drinking in my words and I could see that he was contemplating something behind his gaze. “So…you like it when I give you orders like that? Like..Bossin’ you around? I honestly felt kinda bad after” he said softly and I nodded.

“I love it. Also when you praised me for how well I take your huge cock, that was so good baby.” I kiss his neck, gently nipping the sweet spot below his pulse point and he groans softly, his grip on my ass tightening.

“Fine… Then get on your back.” He said lowly, his voice husky with lust. Without a second thought, I plop on my back, spreading my legs to make space for him.

“As you wish.” I said with a satisfied smile and he straddled me, his weight pushing me into the bed and he held himself up by his muscular arms on either side of me, caging me in. His chain dangled in front of my face teasingly, and I took it between my teeth.

“Fuck you look so hot like that baby” he said softly, causing my proud smile to grow.

I dropped it from my teeth “I want you to own me Carmy” I said softly, my hands trailing up his muscled chest.

“Ye’ baby? You wanna be mine?” He kissed my neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. My eyes fluttered shut, my stomach full of a swarm of butterflies, and my core on fire. I gasp in pleasure as he nips the spot on my neck that drives me wild, my chest arching up and becoming flush with his.

Suddenly, I’m reminded of my current situation.

“Wait” I said softly and he immediately stopped, pulling away and sitting up slightly.

“Did I do something?” He asked nervously, carefully pulling down my shirt that had been pushed up in the heat of the moment.

“No…it’s…” I blushed, covering my face in embarrassment. “It’s my fault- We can’t t’night I’m sorry,” I said shame lacing my voice. I feel his hand around my wrist, gently tugging.

“Honey, look at me- what’s wrong?” He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

“I’m- I’m on my period and…I don’t wanna disgust you so- so no.” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest, staring at the ceiling more annoyed with myself than anything.

“If it’s a me thing baby- I don’t care. I’ll wear a condom if you want, we can put down a towel. I’m definitely not afraid of a little blood.” He said sweetly, gently resting his hands on my hips and squeezing affirmingly.

I felt a hard lump in my throat, and tears began pooling at the back of my eyes as my lip begins to quiver. He noticed and his lips curled into a small frown “we- we don’t have to angel, I’m just telling you that I don’t care if you’re bleeding- It’s- it’s fine, princess, we can just cuddle” he said gently and I nodded.

“I know-“ I whisper, the tears making their way to my lash line and threatening to spill over.

“Then why’re you cryin’, pretty girl?” He gently swipes his thumb under my eye, collecting the tears that had gathered.

“Cause” I sniffled. “Cause you’re perfect Carmen.” I cup his cheeks and pull him into a deep kiss, my eyes squeezing shut and more tears falling down my cheeks.

He pulled away gently “don’t cry Angel, please don’t cry” he whispers, brushing away my residual tears and kissing my damp cheeks before resting his forehead on mine. “Do you want to? I want to, baby. But what I want more is what you want.” He whispered, looking in to my eyes honestly.

I smiled a bit, nodding slightly against him. “Yes” I whisper. “But I just feel…all mushy now- and…I don’t wanna fuck” I said and I saw the disappointment behind his eyes, but of course he didn’t let it show otherwise.

“I want you to make love to me.” I whispered, kissing his jaw tenderly in a line up to his lips. He smiled softly against my lips, humming softly.

“Anything you want, princess.” He said softly before kissing my forehead tenderly.

I smile warmly, my hands trailing up his sides, “let me go get a towel..” I said softly, and he shifted onto his side of the bed, sitting up against the headboard. I sit up and looked at him before getting up, grabbing his hand and squeezing gently.

“Promise if you get grossed out- we’ll stop? A-and…and that you won’t see me differently.” I said meekly, in frantic need of reassurance.

“I told you, honey, you could never gross me out, and being intimate while you’re on your cycle won’t change my feelings for you. I love being close to you, nothing could change that” he conveyed sincerely, before bringing my fingers to his lips and kissing gently.

I nod, “ok,” I said quietly. I got up and padded off to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I used the restroom quickly and prepared myself by wiping down with some baby wipes, even though I’d just showered a few hours prior (you could never be too careful) - and washed my hands before grabbing an old towel from the bathroom closet. I took a deep breath to settle my nerves before opening up the door again.

“I just- don’t um…finger me. You can touch me but- no- no fingers..please” I said shyly and sat on the bed, plopping the folded towel on the edge.

“You got it, honey, thanks f’r tellin’ me- now c’mere” he patted his lap gently. I shuffle over on my knees, straddling him and sitting on his thighs gently.

“Can we…can we turn off the lights?” I ask softly and he nodded.

“Whatever will make you most comfortable baby, I’m fine with whatever you want.” He kissed my jaw sweetly.

I leaned down and kissed his neck gently, leaving soft, lingering kisses down and around his throat, trailing down, grazing my teeth along his skin as I did so and kissing his collarbones gently. “You have such a nice chest Carmy” I said softly, kissing the base of his throat sweetly.

“I could say the same thing about you, can I take this off honey?” He tugged the hem of my shirt gently, and in response I sit up and lifted my arms. He slips the fabric off, throwing it somewhere on the floor and sat back, eyes racking over my frame causing my cheeks to heat.

“So fuckin’ perfect.” He mutters, his large hands cupping my breasts and thumbs rubbing over my nipples causing them to perk up almost immediately.

“Do you like my piercings?” I asked softly, one of my hands coming up and cupping his gently. He looked at me as if he was shocked I'd even ask the question.

“Babe- y’re so fuckin’ hot. You have the nicest tits I’ve ever seen. I’m obsessed with these” he squeezes them together for emphasis, causing me to giggle and I felt all of my tension and insecurity melt away.

“Yeah? What do you like about ‘em?” I asked with a smirk, amused at his boyish affinity for breasts, running my hand down his forearm and squeezing gently.

“Fuck yes. So many things. I love how they’re the perfect handful for me, like they fit fuckin’ perfect in my hands honey. And they’re so soft, and so perky, and fuckin’ bouncy- c’mere I need ‘em” he pulls me to him, kissing over my flesh with hot, wet smooches before taking one of my nipples in his mouth and suckling gently, his tongue playing with my jewelry causing me to moan out loudly in pleasure.

I’d never been ravished this time of the month before- and to be quite honest, it was slightly overwhelming just how sensitive I was.

I gasped slightly at the feeling of his teeth gazing at the sensitive bud, my chest arching into him and pathetic whimpers falling from my lips. “Carmy - fuck I love your mouth s’much” I grind my hips into his, feeling his length already rock hard beneath me. He moaned slightly into my skin, the vibrations against my nipple sending a crashing wave of pleasure to my core that caused my hips to buck into his and my hand to fall flat to his chest to try and ground myself, his thumping heart resting beneath my palm.

“Fuck - take these off” I said, tugging at his sweatpants. “I- I don’t wanna ruin them with a stain they’re my favorites” I breathe out, pulling at the waistband more. He chuckles into my skin, pulling away from my nipple with a pop and gazing up at me with dark, lust filled eyes, the blue almost completely swallowed by the black saucers of his pupils.

“How do you want me angel?” He asked, resting his chin on my breast and not breaking my gaze. His lips were puffy and swollen from the assault on my nipple, glistening with saliva.

“I-“ I felt my cheeks heat, my stomach flipping with anxiety at the realization of the intimacy I really wanted. I swallowed thickly before continuing. “I- I want you to be on top of me…like…like earlier? When you were pressing me into the bed it…it made me feel safe” I brushed a hand through his curls.

A small blush heated his cheeks and he smiled a bit. “Yeah princess? Ok..I liked that too. I wanna see y’re pretty face” he said softly, brushing my fringe away from where it had hidden my eyes slightly.

I kissed his lips tenderly before grabbing the towel, laying it down on my side and smoothing it out. I realized, without the glow of the moonlight pouring in that was cut off by the curtains, it was pitch black on my half of the bed. “Can you- um…open the shade a little?” I ask him when he got up to slip his sweatpants off.

“Course baby, no one can see us right?” He joked, going over and pulling open the curtain and soft moonlight flooded the whole room, just enough.

“I think it’s dark enough in here for no one to get a free show” I giggled, laying back and making sure my hips were fully on the towel so I wouldn’t stain my silk sheets. I sat up a bit, pushing my hair behind me so I or he wouldn’t pull it by accident before settling back down, spreading my legs once more for him.

He stood at the end of the bed, like me, in nothing but his underwear. His large hands curled over his hips as he admired my frame. I blushed, suddenly feeling as naked as I was, and I resisted the urge to cover up my breasts with my hands. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful, Winnie” he said softly, kneeling on the bed and coming up to me, wrapping my thighs around his middle and kissing up from my navel to my neck in long, open mouth kisses, marking me with his saliva. The chill of the air conditioning after each kiss eventually brought on a small shiver that turned into raised goosebumps.

“You make me feel so beautiful” I said softly, my eyes fluttering shut and head falling back to the pillow in bliss as he ravished me with adoring kisses over every inch of bare skin.

“Mm well that’s because you are, you’re the most captivating girl I’ve ever seen” he whispered in my ear gently, his voice laced with a certainty that he believed what he was telling me.

I swallowed thickly, my breath hitching when he bites down on my neck gently, sucking on the sensitive skin. “I want to be yours Carm. Only yours- please” I breathe out, my arms curling around his back and fingers drawing little patterns over his muscles lightly. He bit down on my skin harder, sucking roughly.

There will surely be a bruise.

I moaned softly, one of my hands trailing up to wrap in his soft curls and play with them between my fingers. “Yeah?” He mumbled into my skin, peppering kisses down my jaw “Y’want me to own you, baby? Mmm? Y’want everyone to know that you belong t’me?” He asked gently in my ear, his hot breath and husky voice laced with desire hurling waves of warmth to my core.

“Please-please own me Carmy. Make love to me” I begged quietly, my voice trembling with want and anticipation. He rested his forehead on mine, nuzzling the tip of his nose against mine sweetly.

“You’re the only person I’d ever want to make love to, honey” he whispered into my lips before kissing me hungrily. I moan at his words, opening my mouth for him and dragging my tongue across his, needing more of him.

I lifted my hips when I feel hip pat my bum, and he pulls my panties down to my knees, breaking our kiss to trail kisses up my leg before he drapes it over his side to peel off the barely-there fabric, flinging it to the floor before wrapping my leg securely back around his waist.

“I need you” I voiced softly, my fingers trailing down his chest to his happy trail, delicately hooking my fingers in his waistband and pulling him free. His length eagerly pops out and slaps against his stomach, making me smile proudly.

“Do you need me?” I ask quietly, wrapping my fist around his length and stroking him gently, giving him the firm tug he loved.

He groans, his head falling back slightly and eyes fluttering shut as I run my thumb over his slit, spreading the precum all over his rosy head. “Fuck baby- so bad. I miss your pussy so fuckin much” he breathes out, whimpering and grabbing my wrist when I started massaging his tip firmly with my thumb.

“Ah-ah-mmm-baby” he whines, gripping my wrist tighter “fuuck- shit Y’re gonna make me cum, s-stop- please- I-I still wanna fuck you” he whimpered and I gently lowered my hand, continuing to do slow languid strokes over the bottom half of his length and I see his muscles relax as if I’d just taken him right off the edge.

“That’s how it feels when you rub my clit- more or less.” I said and he gently pushes me to lay back, causing me to lose my grip on him.

“I’d say less considering-“ he spread my lips with his ring and forefinger, dragging his middle finger just barely brushing over my clit causing my hips to buck into his palm and a soft moan to escape my lips. “Takes barely anything t’get you worked up baby, you were chokin my cock- not a fair comparison” he teased with a smirk, leaning in and kissing me warmly.

I cry out in his mouth when he flicks his finger over the extremely sensitive bud, “see baby? Y’re already so worked up… I love those sexy little noises you make” he hums in my ear, rubbing me in achingly slow circles.

“Oh- fuck yes- yes-yes Carmy just like that” I whine out, tightening my heels in his back to pull myself closer. He adds more pressure and I gasp out, grinding my hips against his hand, so aching for more friction he barely had to move his fingers to get me off at this point.

“That’s it honey” he leans down, taking my nipple back in his mouth and my core clenches around nothing which he feels beneath his hand causing him to smile lightly, his tongue flicking over the nipple.

I let out a breathy “ahh” at the wave of pleasure that washes over my core at the action.

“Mmm you’re humpin’ my hand like a horny little bunny right now baby, it’s adorable” he mutters into my skin and I smiled lazily, opening my eyes to look at him.

“Not my fault your hands are better at the job then mine are” I circled my hips, and he took back over, rubbing quicker but lighter circles into my heat that made my stomach tighten and head fall back on the pillow with a breathy “oh”. My breathing quickens, my core tightening, that familiar building beginning to wash over me and my eyes twisting shut, nose scruching in focus.

“Y’gonna cum f’me, bunny? Mmm? I know that adorable face baby, you close? Y’gonna cum f’me angel?” He cooed teasingly, kissing my collar bones and nipping gently. I whimper at the use of the new name, my eyebrows furrowed together in pleasure.

“Ah! mm-mmhmm” I managed to ramble out, my mind going blank other than the overwhelming tightness in every muscle.

“Hey, hey, lemme see those pretty eyes, princess” he kisses the corner of my mouth sweetly. “Mm? Please Baby? Can I see those pretty eyes while you cum for me?” my eyes fluttered open and met his, seeing him smiling sweetly. “Oh you are such a mess and we’ve barely started angel, such a good girl- my good girl” he said, and with that- I was thrown over the edge into my orgasm full force.

My hips bucked up, my clit pulsing, warmth flooding every inch of my body as the pleasure overtook me. “Yesyesyesyes” was all that I could manage to get out of my mouth, my breathing ragged. I pulled him to me, kissing him feverishly, the sound of lips the only audible while I rode out my high.

“I need you” I mumbled between hot, wet kisses. “I need you inside me,” I said, before kissing him again.

He adjusted my hips, pulling away briefly and ripping open a condom with his teeth that he blindly grabbed from my nightstand he’d left out for us a while ago, and rolled the latex over his throbbing member. “Ribbed huh?” He raised his eyebrows teasingly and I giggled.

“More fun f’me- especially with a huge cock like yours” I pull him back to me with my legs and chuckled as he lines himself up, holding himself up with one arm.

“I’m honestly surprised you can take all of it.” He said, nudging his tip in and I moaned, dropping my head back and eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck” he grunted, pushing in deeper. “Y’re fuckin tight babe- are you sure y’re ok?” He looks up at me and in response I nod, my jaw dropped wide in pleasure and eyes shut lightly, breathing heavy.

“Fuck- oh my god please- please- more” I begged him, grabbing his hand and interlacing our fingers. He gently kissed my forehead as he pushed himself into me to the point our pelvises were flush and I let out a loud whiny cry at the sudden pressure.

“Yes fuck- I feel so full-s’good” I whine out. He moaned softly as he thrusts out to the tip before going all the way back in, the ribbed tip of his cock brushing right up against my g-spot in a way that makes my hips jerk and I let out a soft “ah”, stars forming behind my eyes. He wrapped his forearms around my thighs, pulling me higher up in his lap and wrapping his arms around my back, holding me over the bed with his hands on my shoulderblades as he started a quick snap of his hips, moaning out as his head fell back.

“Fuckkk baby. Y’re so fuckin’ good t’me letting me have you like this- shiiit- s’fuckin’ tight baby y’re swallowing my fuckin’ cock right now” he grunted out in absolute ecstasy.

But it fell on deaf ears because this new position he had us in had me swimming through an ocean of pleasure and I couldn’t think of anything other then how deep he was, and how he was hitting spots I’d yet to discover myself or with any other partner. I could feel him in my stomach - and I’d have thought before now, someone so big would hurt, but it was as if we were molded for each other's bodies, he filled me up like a fucking puzzle piece.

“Mm? How’s it feel baby? You ok?” He slows down his movements, breaking me from my trance and I cupped his cheeks, resting my forehead on his.

“Carmen” I whisper, my hands trembling with pleasure.

“What? What- baby, am I hurting you?” He asks his voice laced with worry.

“No- no. I need you- I- I need you to keep fucking going. Don’t stop. Unless I tell you. To stop. Understand me? I’ve never felt so fucking amazing- I can’t even think baby- I can’t even fucking cum right now- i’m trying to process this level of pleasure, you’re fucking me dumb right now- please, please don’t fuckin’ stop.” I rambled out and stroke his jaw gently and he continues his slow pace. “F-Faster, and harder. Please” I said, kissing him deeply and moaning into his mouth when he did so.

I pulled away, gasping in pleasure as he thrusted into my gspot, my hand gripping his shoulder and the nails digging in to the skin, causing half moon shapes “there” I squeaked, my eyes screwing shut. He rested my back against the headboard for support, before snapping his hips faste straight into that spot. The only sounds in the room were now his soft satisfied grunts, wet sounds of him drilling into me, the clapping of skin, and short sweet little ‘ah…ah…ah…’ noises spilling from my lips unintentionally at the force of his every thrust.

Before I could even warn him, my walls are pulsing and fluttering around him wildly as one of the most intense orgasms of my life crashed over me like a tsunami, my hips bucking wildly and thighs quivering uncontrollably. I cry out, my back arching up and my fists white from grabbing the sheets so hard. I could have sworn I felt one of my nails crack under the pressure of my grip.

“Mmmm- cumming- cumming!!” I muttered urgently between heaving breaths when I could finally get a coherent word out, causing him to whimper softly as he continued on the same pace to his release.

He grips my hips tight enough to bruise, his head falling forward as he chases his own release “fuck- gah- me too babe- ah” he grunted as he spilled into the condom, laying me on the bed gentle as he could in his exhaustion and limply collapsing over my frame as he catches his own breath.

He lets out a breathy moan as my walls continue pulsing around him as I come down from my own release “holy fuck babe.” He breathes in to my skin, “fuuuuck” he sits up slightly, pulling me in to a heated kiss. I hum softly, my mind still fuzzy but happy he didn’t pull out right away.

Once he pulled away from the kiss I smiled lazily, utterly fucked out from one round. “That was so amazing Carmy. I’ve never came like that before- like- that was a round three kinda orgasm, you did sooo good Bear, thank you” I said sweetly, playing with his chain gently and adjusting the pendant.

“It was perfect honey, ‘took me so well” he kisses down my jaw and neck, I hummed in satisfaction.

“Don’t pull out yet, I wanna stay like this, please” I said softly, running my fingers over his back. He chuckled softly into my skin

“Okay babygirl, whatever you need” he gently brushed my hair out of my face and cups my cheek. “I like it when we get to be so close like that…when we have sex” he said quietly, bringing a smile to my lips. “Me too” I whispered, leaning in and kissing him tenderly.

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

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