#I just think it's very easy to get lost in your head; I live alone I work remotely most of the time

[notbecauseofvictories]

I won't make any grand, sweeping statements about it, but I do think taking public transit has and continues to make me a better person than I would be otherwise.

[formulaonecrumbs]

hi!! i’ve just like binge read all of your stuff and it’s so beautifully written

do you think you could do a charles fic with the co-parenting to lovers trope? like their kid helps them get together or like he flys out to see their kid and realizes that life is so much better with them? i have a whole like plot im sorry 😭

stay a little longer 🕯️

Charles Leclerc x ex(?)!reader

summary: co-parenting finally turns into something more when their daughter decides it’s time for a date.

warnings: co-parenting to lovers, kid matchmaker, suggestive content, kissing, car makeout, implied smut, love confessions, second chances

A/N: thank u anon for the requuessttt!!! i feel like i still don’t write charles very well 😭 like yes i believe the guy is romantic but i think i made that his whole personality in this WHOOPS. random but i love when drivers have girlfriends cuz now i got sm material for the mood-boards. i hope u enjoy it and as always love u ❤️

༻ ❤︎︎ ༺

you never expected him to show up.

not like this, not without warning, not with that soft look in his eyes and a suitcase in his hand.

it’s been almost six months since you saw charles leclerc in person. six months since he kissed your cheek at the airport and promised he’d try to visit more. six months of facetime calls with your daughter holding your phone too close to her face, grinning with her tiny teeth and telling him she lost another one. six months of you pretending that you were completely fine raising her mostly alone while he chased podiums around the world.

but now he’s standing on your porch like it’s nothing. like he’s not the father of your child and also the person who once broke your heart in the softest, most unintentional way.

“hi,” he says.

you blink. “charles? what—what are you doing here?”

he looks down at his shoes. he’s wearing sneakers that used to live in your hallway. the ones your daughter would trip over every time she tried to run to the door. “i had a week off. i wanted to see her.”

you let him in because you always do. because she misses him even when she doesn’t say it, and because you’ve never been able to fully close the door on him.

your daughter screams ‘daddy!’ the second she hears him. he drops his bag and catches her mid-run, spinning her around in the tiny living room you’ve made your home. you watch from the kitchen, hands still on the mug you were making, heart doing something stupid and warm and dangerous in your chest.

“you’re not leaving tonight, are you?” she asks him, small hands on his cheeks.

he shakes his head. “not tonight. not for a few days, actually.”

and you swear, you see her little face light up with something more than excitement. something like hope.

it’s not supposed to be easy, but it is.

charles fits back into your space like he never left. he sleeps on the couch and does the dishes after dinner. he drives her to school in the mornings and makes up silly songs about brushing her teeth. he folds laundry while you’re at work and lets her paint his nails on the weekends.

and you keep waiting for it to feel like a mistake. to feel like a tease, like you’re slipping back into something that already ended.

but instead, it feels like healing.

like late nights where he sits across from you, whispering stories about races she’s too young to hear. like laughing over wine after she’s gone to bed, both of you tipsy on nostalgia and something heavier. something that tastes like maybe.

he doesn’t flirt. not really. but sometimes, he looks at you like he remembers every moment you ever shared. and sometimes, when he thinks you’re not paying attention, he stares at you like you hung the stars.

it happens on a tuesday.

you’re rushing to get out the door for work. your daughter can’t find her other shoe and you’ve already yelled twice, which always makes you feel like a terrible mother. charles is standing in the kitchen, packing her lunch like he’s done it every morning for the past year instead of the last five days.

and then she says it.

“daddy, are you staying forever now?”

you freeze. so does he.

“because i think you should,” she continues, completely unaware of the tension she’s stirred up. “you make mommy laugh again. and you’re really good at pancakes.”

charles doesn’t look at you. he kneels down and kisses her forehead. “i love you, chérie,” he says quietly.

you don’t talk about it.

not until later, when she’s asleep and you’re both sitting on the back steps with a blanket around your shoulders and the sky full of stars.

“she wants us to be a family,” you whisper.

charles’s voice is soft. “i do too.”

your chest tightens. “charles…”

“i know,” he says. “i know i left. i know i haven’t been here like i should have. and i’m not trying to ask you to just forget it. but i want to be here now. not just for her. for you, too.”

you stare at your hands. your heart. the little cracks that never quite healed after he left.

“why now?” you ask.

he takes a breath. “because every time i see her smile, i see you. and every time i talk to her, i wish you were beside me. and because… i thought i was doing the right thing. giving you space. letting you live your life without the mess of mine. but i’ve never been more wrong.”

you look at him. really look. and he looks scared. vulnerable in a way he never is behind the wheel. and you realize, in this quiet moment under the stars, that maybe you’ve been scared too.

you don’t say anything. you just reach out, take his hand, and let your fingers intertwine like they never stopped knowing how to.

he moves in slowly.

a toothbrush at first. then a drawer. then he’s picking her up from school without you asking, buying groceries like he knows the list by heart. you fall back into love like it’s muscle memory. slow, steady, familiar. this time, without the fear.

your daughter starts calling you her “mommy and daddy house.” she draws pictures of the three of you holding hands, all smiling with the sun in the corner.

one night, she asks if you and daddy are married again.

charles chuckles. “not yet, chérie.”

you shoot him a look. “not funny.”

he leans in, his voice low against your ear. “it could be.”

and you feel it again—that dangerous, stupid hope that maybe this time, it’s real.

because he came back. because he stayed. because your little girl believed in love enough to put it back together. and because this time, you’re ready to believe in it too.

༻ ❤︎︎ ༺

she catches you holding his hand in the kitchen.

it’s not a big deal, really. just fingers brushing as you pass him the milk. but charles catches your pinky with his, gives it a gentle squeeze, and you smile in that way you only ever do with him.

your daughter sees it all from her seat at the table, eating cereal like it’s the most important meal of her life.

“are you guys in love again?” she asks, spoon halfway to her mouth.

charles pauses, milk almost spilling over the edge of his glass. “what?”

“you heard me,” she says, chewing dramatically.

you shoot charles a look. he shrugs, trying not to laugh.

“i think you are,” she continues, totally unfazed. “you look at each other like the people in mommy’s movies. and you sleep on the couch together sometimes. and daddy made you pancakes in a heart shape.”

you can’t even deny that one. he really did.

“okay,” she says, pushing her bowl away. “it’s time.”

“time for what?” you ask, even though you already know.

“you’re going on a date.”

charles raises an eyebrow. “we are?”

she nods. “yes. i’ll stay with mamie. and you two can go somewhere fancy. with candles and music. and then you’ll kiss.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “what is it with you and kissing lately?”

she grins. “uncle pierre says it’s how people fall in love.”

charles makes a face. “i’m going to block his number.”

you get ready while she helps charles pick out a shirt. you hear her scolding him for choosing the boring grey one and insisting he wears the one with the tiny flowers because “mommy likes when you look like a soft boy.”

you come out in a dress that hasn’t seen the light of day in years and charles just stands there, looking like he forgot how to breathe.

“wow,” he says softly. “you look…”

you raise a brow. “like a soft girl?”

he laughs. “like the girl i’ve been in love with since before i even knew it.”

you blink.

he smiles, nervous and sweet and very charles. “too much?”

“no,” you say, cheeks warm. “just enough.”

you drive to a little italian restaurant tucked away in the quieter part of town. it’s dimly lit, with fairy lights above the patio and old music playing inside. it’s romantic in a kind of unintentional way. the kind of place that doesn’t try too hard because it doesn’t need to.

charles pulls your chair out for you and keeps glancing across the table like he’s still trying to figure out if this is real.

“this feels weird,” you say, sipping your wine. “in a good way. but weird.”

he nods. “like we’re pretending we’re not already a family.”

you smile. “yeah.”

“but i want this too,” he adds, eyes soft. “the dating part. the butterflies.”

you meet his gaze. “you still get butterflies?”

he reaches across the table, lacing your fingers with his. “every time you look at me like this.”

and god, you feel it too. that flutter. that full-body warmth that only ever comes when you’re really, really falling.

after dinner, he takes your hand and suggests a walk. it’s chilly but not cold, and the stars are out like someone painted them just for tonight.

“this is the part where we kiss under the moonlight,” you joke, bumping your shoulder into his.

charles stops walking.

“what?” you ask, turning.

he steps closer. “i was waiting for the right moment.”

your breath catches. “is this it?”

he nods, eyes flicking to your mouth. “yeah. i think it is.”

and when he kisses you, it’s slow and soft and everything you’ve been missing for years. it’s full of promises and apologies and second chances. it tastes like wine and laughter and home.

you stay like that for a long time, under the stars and the streetlamp, kissing like you’re twenty and just discovering how good it feels to be wanted.

when you get home, the lights are low and the house is quiet. your daughter is asleep, curled up in her bed with her stuffed giraffe and the nightlight glowing faintly beside her.

charles shuts the door gently behind you.

you turn to him, heart racing, still a little breathless from the night.

“so…” you whisper.

he walks toward you, slow, eyes locked on yours. “so.”

“was this the part where we’re supposed to kiss again?”

he nods, grinning. “definitely.”

he backs you into the couch and kisses you until you’re both laughing and gasping and tangled in each other. his hands in your hair, your arms around his neck, the world spinning just slightly off its axis in the best way.

“we probably shouldn’t wake her,” you mumble against his mouth.

“then we’ll be quiet,” he whispers back, kissing down your neck.

you end up in the car—because it’s late and you can’t quite make it upstairs, and also because there’s something wildly thrilling about being wrapped around each other in the dark leather seats, trying not to fog up the windows too much.

his hands on your thighs, your lips tracing every freckle on his collarbone, his voice low and hoarse as he says your name like a prayer.

after, you sit in the front seat, legs curled into his lap, his hand resting gently on your bare knee.

“we should do this again,” you say, grinning against his shoulder.

charles kisses your temple. “i plan on it.”

and you believe him. completely.

because this time, he’s not just here for the night. this time, he’s here to stay.

THE END :>

[adragonprinceswhore]

Soft & Hard

Aemond Targaryen x Ex Girlfriend

Summary: How do you forget about Aemond Targaryen when he’s everywhere you look?

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, emotional infidelity, descriptions of self-hatred, situationship, intoxication, smut, heavy petting, drunk sex, P in V, (some) size kink

Word Count: 4000

A/N: This has been plaguing my mind for weeks now, so I really needed to get it out of me and into the world. This can be read as a continuation of my Hockey player Aemond drabble, but can also be read as a standalone. Aemond is a hockey player in this modern AU! 🩵

You prop your feet up to rest on the sides of your bathtub, angling the shower head just right so it hits that spot that sends pleasurable shivers rippling through your body.

Your eyes are closed, and you’re desperately trying to visualise the hot guy from the TV series you’d just binged; mind racing through any arousing scenario you can come up with.

It’s not an easy task; keeping yourself occupied enough to not drift towards the very man you’ve vainly tried to erase from your memory. 

You don’t want to think about him. 

Thinking about him always leads to missing him. 

It leads to longing for him. 

No matter how badly he hurt you. No matter how much you rationalise your reasons for leaving, your stupid heart yearns to fill the hole he’s left behind. 

Pathetic.

You shut your eyes with more force, thinking of the hot TV character. Upping the pressure of the shower head, you imagine it’s him going down on you that’s causing the pleasure building inside. Your hips begin to shallowly sway back and forth, and low whimpering moans slip from your lips. 

As the pleasure builds and builds, the image in your head morphs; the hot TV guys’ hair turns silver, no matter how hard you try to stay focused. 

You’re close, so close, and just as you’re on the edge of pleasure, you hear him,

“You’re so pretty like this”

And you cum so hard you drop the showerhead in your grip, legs shaking as your hips jerk upward aggressively. 

Water sprays across the bathroom as the shower head falls, but you’re too lost in your own bliss to truly care, giving yourself a moment to just disappear into the fleeting, fierce pleasure consuming you. 

After a while, when your legs have stopped shaking and your cunt has stopped clenching around nothing, you turn the rampant shower head off with a sigh. 

The satisfaction of your orgasm is short-lived, promptly followed by the lonely reality of you chasing pleasure alone in your bathroom. You could stay in the tub and make yourself cum 10 more times and it wouldn’t change the loneliness residing inside of you. 

You could try to picture that hot guy from the show fucking you for hours, still you’d feel the same. 

Still, visions of him would cloud your mind. And the chill of loneliness would penetrate your bones, as it does right now. 

Because no one kisses your forehead afterwards, or holds you tight, or whispers sweet things into your ear. 

You're alone, and the warm water quietly splashing around you doesn’t stop the cold porcelain of your bathtub from chilling your heated flesh. 

You shiver. 

Sick of yourself; of your self-pity and hatred, you leave the tub and throw on a dressing gown, already on a search for a new distraction. 

Anything to take your mind off Aemond Targaryen. 

Forgetting Aemond was nearly impossible. 

Not only did your mind remind you of your heart’s longing for the man that broke it. The world did as well. Like when you overheard your colleagues discussing his latest game, and how skillfully he tackled his opponents, landing a blow on them so precise yet hard that they flew into the rink. Or when you got home after a long day and turned on the TV, greeted by him giving a post-match interview all sweaty and panting. 

The only way you knew him. 

Being restricted to seeing the man you’d spent countless nights together with through the TV screen has brought you to the conclusion that ultimately, your relationship hasn’t changed much. 

Sure, you don’t send him nudes anymore. Nor does he fuck you into the mattress of whichever hotel room he brings you to. 

But the distance is the same. The loneliness isn’t new; it always existed between the two of you. He never really cared to let you in. 

You were convenient. 

Pliable. 

An easy fuck. 

You should’ve realised it sooner. Like that time when Alicent Hightower, Westerosi socialite and Aemond’s mother, stopped by one of his practices. You were helping him lace his skates when she appeared, and as soon as he noticed his mum approaching, Aemond’s large hand gently but firmly pushed you away. 

Ms. Hightower’s curious gaze had asked about you, and her son huffed out, “She’s an acquaintance”

An acquaintance. 

Not even a friend. 

To you, Aemond was the first thing you thought about in the morning, and the last thing you thought about before going to sleep. 

To him, you were an acquaintance. 

Pathetic. 

That should have been the last straw. But you kept seeing him. Not even the humiliation and hurt you felt as you excused yourself and ran to the bathroom with tears in your eyes could stop you from craving him. That was the power he had over you.

The power he still has over you, even in his absence. Even if you blocked his number 6 months ago and haven’t seen him once since. 

The actual last straw was a message you’d gotten from an unknown number, asking if you’d send more of those “hot slutpics in dat black thong”. For a second you thought it was Aemond having a laugh, but the message didn’t sound like him, and he isn’t exactly known for being a guy that appreciates humour, or ‘pranks’.

Turns out, the number belonged to Aegon Targaryen, Aemond’s older brother and notorious fuckboy. Word around King’s Landing was that every girl who’d slept with him had gotten chlamydia, and still he seems to find a new conquest to throw his arms around each weekend. 

Perhaps the sleaziest guy in the Seven Kingdoms.

Turns out, it runs in the family. 

You blocked Aemond’s number that night. After swearing to never let your desire for him get the best of you again, you begged your friends to take you out and get you so shitfaced the humiliation Aemond had inflicted on you would be washed away. 

It didn’t work.

You’re still tainted by his touch. 

So you switch tactics. You look for someone else. 

About a month after you’d called things off with Aemond, you thought you’d found a good replacement. A nice, inconspicuous guy who was eager to please; eager to make you like him. You would’ve felt guilty, really, if the dark hole of lonely self-hatred in your chest didn’t outweigh your selfishness. 

And still, Aemond Targaryen was everywhere. 

You’d find him in that adoring look your new partner gave you as you sucked him off in the shower. You’d find him in bed, when you couldn’t sleep and imagined it was Aemond’s heavy arms holding you tight. You’d find him in your fantasies, seemingly incapable of coming with your new partner unless you closed your eyes and pretended the short, curly strands greeting your hand between your legs were actually long, silky and silver. 

Ultimately, your conscience caught up with you, and you broke things off with the new guy as well. He had told you that he loved you, and the sweetest of confessions felt like the sharpest of needles prickling your heart. 

Aemond never said it. 

Oh, how you wish it was him saying it. 

Sometimes, even after six months of not seeing him, you’re still surprised by how incredibly piteous he’s rendered you. 

Yearning for a man who only saw you as a plaything. Who only ever cared for you when you were conveniently there for him to do as he pleased with. Who refused to expose your relationship to his mother, and shared your nudes with his brother. 

Fucking prick. 

Today’s Friday. 

Single and lonelier than ever, you beg your friends to go out dancing with you. It’s become your new weekend ritual; go out and dance until your feet hurt and you’re so tired you collapse on your bed, mind delightfully empty. 

Now, you're back on the dancefloor, drink in hand, eyes closed as you sway to the music. 

You always drag your friends to the same place, The Three Towers, a nightclub of the slightly more exclusive kind, with proper DJs and strong drinks. 

They must’ve figured out by now that it was Aemond who introduced you to this place. You see it in the pitiful looks they give you every time you insist on coming here instead of going to any of the many other places in Oldtown. Their eyes say what you’ve known to be true for over six months;

Pathetic. 

It’s not like Aemond likes to go out anyway. He hates crowds, dislikes strangers, loathes the fake people gathering around him to tell him empty words of adoration. 

But that one time you’d wanted to go dancing, he’d brought you here. 

Maybe he brings all his “acquaintances” here. 

You tell yourself that you don’t come here for him, that it just happens to be a great place, but still, every time you catch a glimpse of something silvery in the corner of your eye, dread punches you in the gut. 

Why do you seek him out when you know actually meeting him would destroy you? What if you saw him here with another girl? Maybe one of the models his brother so often gifts his infected cock to? 

Tumultuous thoughts swirl in your mind until you notice that the flash of silver isn’t Aemond’s hair at all, and ease settles over you. Well, something akin to ease. The self-hatred is still there,

Pathetic. 

Your feet quickly carry you to the bar, eager for more of the numbness only alcohol provides. You order another G&T and almost spit it out after the first sip; it’s basically all gin.

Good.

You take three large gulps and move back to the dancefloor, searching for your friends who you’ve lost in the crowd of intertwined bodies. 

You scan your surroundings, and then it happens again. A flash of silver. Only this time, it’s him. 

You remember the first time you saw him. TV appearances and watching him on the ice doesn’t do him justice. In person, his ethereal beauty’s blinding. Just like it is now. One of the spotlights over the sofa he sits on hits his hair, causing it to glow like the beacon of a dark night at sea. 

Calling you in. 

Your feet work by themselves as they walk towards him. You panic, desperately searching for any excuse to talk to him. 

What do you say? 

Suddenly you’re right before him, drink in one hand and the other nervously touching your hair as you dumbly stare at him. He looks up from the drink in his hand, a whiskey on the rocks you’d guess, and meets your eyes. 

His gaze is cold and stoic. 

Unimpressed. 

He raises an expectant eyebrow. 

And yet you say nothing. All the witty, insightful, hard-hitting truths you’d wanted to tell him for the last six months vanish as you stand before him frozen in panic. 

Pathetic.

Pathetic. 

Pathetic!

You have nothing. Your mind’s empty, the only thing you can do is feel. Feel the self-hatred, the loneliness, the insecurity he’s inflicted upon you. 

He rolls his eyes. Aemond’s not known for his patience, “If you’re looking for that new boyfriend of yours, he’s not here”

“I don’t have a boyfriend”, you blurt out, prompted by the shiver running through you caused by the venom dropping from his words. He sounds so hateful. 

He stands abruptly, forcing you to take a faltering step back as he tower over you,

“Come”

He takes the drink in your hand and places it on a nearby table before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the rowdy club. The chill of the night air hits your scarcely clad body as he drags you towards a cab waiting outside, your ears still ringing from the loud music in the club.

He opens the door and pushes on your arm to get in. His touch is still impossibly warm; just as you remember it. 

He slams the door shut and walks around to the other side, getting in and grunting an address you’ve never heard of to the taxi driver.  

You know your friends would be furious if they knew who you left with, so you send them a quick text stating that you’ve left ‘cause you didn’t feel well. 

You place your phone back in your purse and look outside. It seems like you’re driving towards the north part of the city, a place you hardly know. 

The deafening silence in the taxi is so tense, any sane person would ask the driver to stop and get out in a heartbeat. 

Aemond, sitting next to you with his jaw clenched and fidgeting with his customised black and red lighter, sends nervous ripples of fear through your being. You know he’s contemplating something, yet you wouldn’t dare ask. 

Any sensible person would get out. 

But you can’t. 

Because he still smells the same. And it’s everywhere in the stuffy cab. And your heart hurts, a tear threatens to spill, because you’ve missed it all so much; his smell, his hair, his voice, his touch. 

Him.

The silence persists, until you're finally freed as the taxi driver stops and Aemond hands him a few copper stars. 

You get out and take a deep breath of the late summer night's air. The buzz of alcohol still clouds your judgement somewhat, yet you feel more aware of yourself than ever before. 

You look around and see Aemond approach the entrance to a sleek building in that brutalist, modern design, and you follow in tow. He still hasn’t said anything, and neither have you.

You get in a lift, go up to the top floor, and enter a dark flat with only a small table lamp lit by the entrance, obscuring your view of the place. 

Just as you make way to move further into the room, Aemond hinders you. 

He doesn’t allow you entrance to the rest of the space, cornering you against a low side table by the entrance door. He’s so tall, and so broad, you disappear into the wall as he steals all the space around you. 

“Why did you agree to come with me?” 

He’s so close you feel his breath tickle your skin. It’s too dark to truly see the expression on his face, but the shadows cast on him makes him look stern. The smell of him intensifies. You feel warm.  

This is all you’ve wanted. All you’ve feared. 

You still desire him so.

“You told me to”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you know it’s because your reply’s caught him off guard. He’d assumed you’d fight back, jab at him in some way. He tries again,

“My mate saw you at that club last week, you know”

Is he keeping tabs on you? 

“What happened to your boyfriend?” 

How does he know about that? 

You swallow, “Nothing. It just wasn’t right” 

“Hm”

Your eyes are locked together, his mismatched gaze just as alluring as you remember it. Without looking away, he brings a hand up to gently stoke the cold skin of your arm. 

The harshness of his stare falters, 

“Did you miss me?” 

“Did you miss me?” 

The retort leaves your lips before you register it forming in your head. Can’t give in to him that easily. Can’t make your suffering known to the person causing it. 

The harshness reappears. 

“Did he fuck you the way you like?” 

His tone is cold, yet heated with anger. The same hateful tinge from before. 

Your drunk mind works without you operating it, 

“He wasn’t you”

The confession slips out, and so does the pitifulness. The loneliness. The pathetic mess you’ve become. 

Aemond didn’t expect your admission either, eyes narrowing in suspicion, 

“What do you mean?”

Is this the time? 

To tell him how utterly devastated you’ve been without him? How he plagues your mind? How your entire being is tainted by him? 

No. 

“Why did you bring me here?”, you ask, foggy mind finally cooperative enough to let you change the subject.

“Because you wanted me to”, he replies, the gentle hand on your arm suddenly travelling down to caress your exposed thigh before  harshly cupping your cunt. 

A startled gasp espaces your lips. 

His touch is so nostalgic it travels from your aroused core to your heart, and squeezes it painfully.  

His hand is big enough to cover you entirely, and with the heel of his palm, he pushes harshly where he knows your swollen clit lies obscured under your panties. His long finger taps against your hole, and he huffs a quiet, condescending laugh as he feels how moist the fabric is.

When did you get this wet? 

You feel the heat of his touch radiate from his palm to your cunt, so persistent it finds its way through your underwear. He only moves his hand to stroke you over the fabric and press at your clit, but the gratification of finally being granted his touch works you towards release at a speed you’d thought impossible. 

“Still a little slut for me”  

He brings two fingers up to press right over your clit, rough circles demanding that you obey his touch and come for him. 

His breathing hard through his nose, the look in his eye is hard to decipher, 

Arousal? 

Fury? 

Fuck it feels good to be pushed against a wall by him. To be subjected to his rough treatment. Anything to feel his touch on you again. 

Your hips move upwards to meet his fingers; you’re so close to falling apart. 

“You missed me. And that fucker you were seeing couldn’t compare to me. Isn’t that right?” 

He spits out the words, teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he leans even closer. 

Your arms have been hanging limply at your side, and you have to fight the sudden urge to grab him and press him against you. To feel him closer. 

“Did he make you this wet?”

Aemond’s tongue licks the sensitive spot behind your ear and you moan loudly, fully consumed by the way his fingers push you towards release. 

You angle your face so that his mouth is right by yours. With parted lips, you look up at him pleadingly, begging him to kiss you. 

Something in his eye shifts, and a victorious smirk breaks out over his face, 

“Come”

And you do. So hard you see stars and your legs give out. The pleasure is intense, it steals everything from you; your breath, your senses, your self-discipline. 

Your hands fly to Aemond’s biceps, anchoring yourself to him as your body twitches forcefully in the pleasure rupturing you. It’s cathartic; a long awaited release only his hands can coax out. 

When you come back to reality, to the dark hallway you're trapped against Aemond’s body in, the dreaded self-hatred you’d gotten to know so well makes itself known again. 

The brutal reality of exactly how far your pathetic infatuation with Aemond has driven you crashes over you like an ice-cold wave of regret. You feel hot tears well up in the corner of your eyes as they stay casted down, refusing to look up at the man who’s greatest pleasure in life seems to be to torment you. 

Why had he brought you here? Why did he enjoy hurting you? Why had you fallen for it? 

“What did I do to make you hate me so?” 

It’s the alcohol talking. Or maybe it’s the last thing you need to hear from him before you can finally let go. The last shard of your heart crushed in his grip. 

Silence is the only answer he gives you, and without looking up, you push him to move so you can get away from him. Instead of allowing you to leave, he brings one hand to your cheek, engulfing it in warmth, and drags your face upwards to meet his eyes. 

Before you can read his expression, he ducks his head down, letting his lips graze over yours. His tongue comes out to swipe over your lower lip in a slow, gentle caress that feels more sensual than anything you’ve ever experienced, and in retaliation your greedy arms pull him closer, eagerly kissing him back. There’s a slow urgency to the way his tongue seeks out yours, bending your body backwards to taste you deeper. You relish in it. 

You want him to eat you up. To devour you completely. You’re his anyway. 

Without breaking the kiss, Aemond leads you down the dark hallway and into a dimly lit room. The only thing you register is a large bed in the middle, where he takes a seat and keeps you standing between his legs, still kissing you. 

His hands roam over your body; over your exposed arms and legs. They find the zipper at the back of your dress and pull it down, slowly undressing you until you're completely bare. 

He stands for a brief moment to rid himself of his own clothes, and then sits again, guiding you to climb onto his lap. 

You follow his every command in enchantment. You grant him every kiss he seeks, allow him every touch he craves. He can have it all. 

He guides you to sink down on him slowly. You’re still so wet, yet he’s so hard your insides are forced to mould after his stiffness. 

Once he fills each part of you, he wraps your legs around his waist, sighing in satisfaction as he presses your body so close to his the skin of your torso sticks to his. 

“I won’t last long-”, he whispers into your ear, “-a 6 month wait is excruciating”

The touch that you’ve known as harsh and demanding is now so soft. So delicate it slowly picks up the shattered pieces of your broken heart and mends them together again with each gentle caress.

Your hands cup his cheeks, gazing into his lilac and blue stare as you slowly begin to move. 

Aemond doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say that one phrase that you want him to, but the look in his eyes is mesmerising. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable. It’s intimate.

He’s giving himself to you. 

You wrap your arms around him, accepting him. You want all of him, all to yourself. You’ve wanted him for half a year. You’ve wanted him since the first time you met him. 

He meets your hips each time you sink down, and the otherwise carnal pursuit for pleasure feels dreamlike as Aemond’s arms envelop you and you disappear into him. 

You want to say it, but not yet. You don’t dare. Would he retreat again? You know it to be true, but it’s too early. Maybe someday. 

Instead, it’s Aemond who speaks over the moans and sighs of pleasure,

“Don’t leave me again” 

You don’t know how long you fuck, but each orgasm feels more consuming, more powerful, than the last. Ultimately, you collapse together on the bed, legs and arms still intertwined. The familiarity of Aemond’s heavy arms over your waist soothes you, yet the soft sheets of the bed provide a stark contrast to the stiff, clinical sheets of the hotel rooms he’d always brought you to before. 

There’s nothing left between you, no more layers to shed, so you ask him about everything that had led up to your separation. About how he dismissed you in front of his mother, and about the text from his brother. The latter seems to genuinely surprise him, 

“I’ve never shared your pictures with anyone, especially not him” 

Guess Aegon Targaryen isn’t above snooping through his brother’s stuff. 

You talk all night, and Aemond tells you about his strained relationship with his family, “My family has an ability to ruin things for me”, he confesses, “I didn’t want that to happen with you”

As the rays of sunrise begin to seep through the window, you admit to the loneliness that’s been eating away at you since parting from Aemond. 

He cups your cheek again, thumb stroking your cheekbone,

“I fucked up. I’ve missed you more than I thought possible”

Your loneliness hadn’t been solitary. He’d felt it too. You’d shared it. 

You lay your head on his chest, listening to the slow drum of his heart. Before it lulls you to sleep, you remember the last thing you’d like to ask him,

“Aemond, where are we?”

“My place”

A/N: I never know if I should write it as come or cum? After some studious research (not), I decided that come is the original and therefore works better! Thank you for reading, I write these drabble for fun to improve my writing, so don't be too harsh please 🫶🩵

[0cta9on]

Train Ride to Heaven

length: +3k words

Genre: Smut

NewJeans Hanni x Male Reader

(Author's Note: The winner of the first smut poll! I wrote this entire thing in 1.5 sittings, so it's very rough and unedited. Nevertheless, hope you horny sickos enjoy it <3)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

A weary sigh leaves your lips as you rest the back of your head against the trembling glass of the subway. Eight years of college, even more years of brown-nosing just for a sliver of a chance at a promotion, hours of sleep lost from nights working overtime, and where did it land you? A thankless office job that considers you more of a number than a living, breathing human being. After all that, you get to go home to a loveless marriage with a woman you know for a fact is cheating on you with her personal trainer, but you’re too tired to do anything about it. Hooray for you.

You feel the subway slowly creep to a stop. A few more of those and you’ll finally be able to sleep and pretend like you're dead for a couple hours before doing it all over again. A lone girl, at least 18, walks into the car and takes a seat directly across from you - an odd move considering the entire car is completely empty aside from you. You try to ignore her, opting to get some shut-eye before you get to your stop, but you can’t deny the shift in the atmosphere from her presence. She’s a pretty young girl, all alone at this time of night. You could do anything to her and no one would even know. You shake your head at the thought. No good can come from a perverted old man like yourself.

“Psst…”

Although, there’s no fault in thinking like that if it stays in your mind. A cute girl like her could easily be taken advantage of. In fact, she’s lucky that you’re here instead of an actual sicko that would try to put their hands all over her.

“Psst… Ahjussi…”

This shitty marriage has got you all pent up. Not like you would have any energy left in you, especially after a day like this. Lucky you. Maybe if you pray hard enough, whatever god is up there will pity you and summon a woman that’ll throw themselves at you. If only life were that easy.

“Ahjussi!”

Your eyes shoot open from the sudden noise. The girl sitting across from you giggles to herself as she smiles at you. It isn’t immediately obvious due to her innocent features, but you can tell that she’s hiding something behind that smile. Something sinister, even. How exciting.

“What?” You ask. Her sly smile only grows as she subtly raises her skirt. Little by little, she reveals the supple flesh of her thighs, firm and plump. You know in the back of your mind that this is wrong, that she shouldn’t be exposing herself to an old man like this, but the second you see that little bit of white cotton in between her legs, all common sense flies out the window. Suddenly, she lowers her skirt, much to your disappointment. Your emotions must have been obvious as she cackles sweetly, pointing at your face. Embarrassed, you lean back and shut your eyes, hoping she’ll leave you alone for the duration of the ride.

“Ahjussi~” she teases in a sing-songy voice. “Open your eyes~” Like a fool, you follow her orders without a second thought. This time, however, the reward is greater than you could have ever imagined. Her white cotton panties are there in full view for no one else but yourself, drawing you in like a siren. The girl bites her lip as she traces circles around her crotch, more for you rather than herself. Your cock begins to strain in your pants, begging to be set free.

“Come here,” she says, beckoning you with a single finger. You quickly do as she says and sit next to her. Up close, you can see just how deceivingly innocent she is with her big, round eyes and her thick, pouty lips. Anyone would walk by her and assume she’s a classy and upstanding student, not a little slut teasing random old men in a subway (Not that you mind).

“My name is Hanni, what’s your name?” She asks, gripping the sleeve of your blazer while she plays with herself under her skirt.

“I-I, u-um, m-my name is-”

She brings a finger to your lips, silencing you. “Actually, I don’t really care, I’m just gonna call you daddy,” Hanni giggles. You force yourself to take a deep breath in an attempt to remain composed, but inside, you’re cheering like an addicted gambler finally hitting that sweet, sweet jackpot.

“So Daddy, what are you doing riding the train home this late at night?” The lilt she puts on that word is enough to drive you insane, but you try to hold back, not wanting to scare her off if you appear too eager.

“Uh, y’know, just getting home after a long day of work. Boring office job and all that. Nothing you would find any interest in,’ you sigh. Hanni pouts, looking at you with a sympathetic expression.

“Awww poor daddy, you must be so stressed.” She holds onto your arm, pushing her perky breasts into you. Your wife has never given you so much as a glance in your direction whenever you showed up exhausted from work. She’s probably too busy texting her personal trainer. Hell, she’s probably fucking him right at this very moment. It’s only fair if you get to have some fun for yourself, right?

“Yeah, I suppose I am pretty stressed. On top of that, my wife has been cheating on me with this personal trainer guy she met a couple months ago.” As soon as you mention your wife’s adultery, a hint of a smirk appears on Hanni’s lips.

“Oh no~,” she says, feigning pity. “Maybe I can help you… feel better?” She puts your hand on your chest and inches it downwards, all while maintaining eye contact with you. Her face is close enough for you to feel her breath on your chin, but just far enough for her to escape if you try to kiss her. All you can do is wait as you feel her hand getting closer and closer closer to your raging erection. Everything fades away but the pumping of your heart and the gentle brown of her eyes. Finally, a guttural groan escapes your mouth as she grasps onto your cock, stroking it through your pants.

Hanni giggles at your expression. “Does that feel good, Daddy? Do you like it when I play with Daddy’s cock?” All you can do is nod as she continues to toy with you, rubbing and squeezing along your shaft. It’s been so long since another person has touched your penis that you almost finish right then and there, but you continue to hold it in with steely determination.

“Daddy’s cock is so big and thick, I don’t know if it’ll fit in my tiny, little mouth.” Hanni leans into your ear, tickling your skin with her breath as she whispers, “Maybe we should find out.”

“Y-yes, god yes,” you practically beg.

“Then tell me what to do,” she says. “I’m your little whore for the night. Treat me like one.” Those filthy words coming out of her pretty mouth is a memory that you will never forget until the day you die.

“Fucking suck my cock, you slut,” you command her, a little too enthusiastically. Even in the prime of your relationship, your wife would never let you talk to her like this. To have your commands followed by this cute girl is heart-poundingly exhilarating. You feel like a whole new man.

Hanni fiddles with your belt buckle at a snail’s pace. You try to do it yourself to get the ball rolling, but she swats your hand away.

“Let me do it by myself, Daddy~” she pouts. With a nod, you lean back and let her have her way, succumbing to the desires of her cuteness. If she wanted to, she could easily take over the world with her looks alone.

After unbuckling your belt and unzipping your pants, all that’s left is the fabric of your underwear separating your dick from her glossy lips. Hanni places a few gentle kisses on your bulge, drawing a moan from your belly. Giggling, her fingers hook around the waistband and pull it down at a tantalizingly slow pace, leaving you to wait as your heart threatens to burst from your chest. Finally, your member swings up, almost hitting Hanni in the face. Her jaw drops as she gazes at your length, a look of surprise and a little bit of fear in her eyes.

“Oh shit…” she whispers to herself before shaking her head and putting back the sultry appearance she had before. “I can’t wait to choke on your big, fat cock, Daddy,” she smirks as she begins to stroke your shaft. Hanni’s hands are much softer than your wife’s, and even more skilled as she cups your balls, applying just enough pressure so that it doesn’t hurt. You watch with bated breath as she leans forward, eyeing the tip of your cock for a moment before it disappears into her open mouth. The sound of your moan echoes throughout the subway car as Hanni sucks on your tip, slowly taking in more of your length with each bob of her head. Even your wife’s cocksucking skills pale in comparison to hers, you almost feel bad for the guy that she’s fucking.

“Yes, good girl, Hanni. Suck that dick, you fucking slut,” you encourage. You notice her ass sticking up in the air, and thanks to the rumbling of the train and her bobbing motions, her skirt rides up just enough for you to peek at the white panties covering her ass, giving you the bright idea to reel back and give her a good, hard spank. She moans into your cock, heightening the sensation. 

“I bet you like that, you little whore.” You yank her up by the hair, forcing her to look at you, saliva covering her mouth and chin. All the inhibitions and common sense you had before are completely gone, leaving nothing behind but animalistic desire.  “Say it. Say that your daddy’s little fucktoy.”

“I’m daddy’s little fucktoy,” she repeats, giggling at you. Satisfied, you release her hair and sit back, watching as she alternates between deepthroating your shaft and sucking on your balls while she strokes your entire length with her spit. You would happily quit your job and live at the subway instead if it meant you get to have this petite sex doll all to yourself every night.

Suddenly, the train comes to a stop at one of the stations and a man stumbles inside. The two of you scramble to cover up, hiding any semblance that the two of you were doing anything indecent. Much to your dismay, the man sits nearby, making it difficult for even small gestures to go unnoticed. He’s clearly not a student nor is he an office worker, so why the hell would he be riding the subway this late at night!?

“Wait,” Hanni whispers, pointing at the man. “Look.”

Confused, you watch as his body begins to sway with the movements of the train. Upon closer inspection, you notice that his eyes are struggling to stay open and his clothes are disheveled. Clearly, he’s either drunk, faded, or both. Finally, BAM - he knocks out on the seat, completely unconscious.

Hanni stifles as she gives you a knowing look. “He’ll be out for a little while so…” She bends over the seat, shaking her butt at you. “Fuck my little pussy with that cock, Daddy~,” she teases, winking back at you.

Pounding with excitement, you release your cock and stroke it back to life, while your other hand pulls down her white cotton panties, finally revealing her pinky honeypot to you. With Hanni’s saliva as lube, you line up your tip with her cunt, teasing her moist folds.

“Are you ready, baby?” you ask

“I’m so fucking rea- MMPH!” She struggles to stifle a moan as you completely bottom out inside of her, all in one thrust. So slick and so tight, you don't even care about comparing her to your wife anymore. All you want to do is ruin her little pussy and use it as your personal cocksleeve. You sink your fingers into her hips, pulling her into you with each thrust and watching her cute ass jiggle against you.

Fuck that stupid company. Fuck your stupid bitch of a wife. Your entire life you were told what to do, how to act, and what you should look like in order to succeed in life. You followed everyone’s orders to a T, even going above and beyond to obtain that success that was oh so coveted. But look where you are now - eight inches deep into some girl you just met tonight. Fuck the “high-paying job” and fuck the “hot wife”. If this isn’t success, then you don’t know what is.

“O-oh my g-god… Y-you’re so f-fucking h-huge…” Hanni squeaks in between thrusts, desperately trying to control her volume. You’re unsure how much longer you can manage, but it doesn’t matter. Whether she likes it or not, this slut is gonna leave with a gallon of your cum deep inside of her.

Hanni’s body begins to shake violently. “I-I… I’m cumming!” She shrieks wildly. You pull out of her, watching in astonishment as she squirts all over the seats. And your wife said you could never dream of satisfying a woman - if only she could see this now. 

“H-holy shit…” she says, leaning her head on your shoulder as she gasps for air. “That was… fucking insane.” Both of you laugh as you wait for her to get down from her high. Miraculously, the man didn’t notice her ear-splitting orgasm, still completely out cold.

Suddenly, Hanni straddles your lap, wrapping her arms around your head. “I noticed that you didn’t cum yet, Daddy.” She gyrates your hips, rubbing her wet slit against your tip. You figure she would still be sensitive after the first round, but it’s clear she was built purely to fuck. “Maybe we should change that,” she says, biting her lips.

“Maybe we should,” you smirk. Hanni kisses you as she drops her hips onto your cock, causing her to moan into your mouth. Not wanting to give up dominance completely, you shove your tongue down her throat, filling two of her holes at once. The wet slapping of her bouncing on your cock echoes throughout the car, and at this point, you don’t care if that man wakes up or not. He could be completely conscious and recording you right now, but you still wouldn’t stop plowing this little minx. In fact, you secretly hope that he is recording right now - the whole world should know that this fucktoy named Hanni is yours and yours alone.

You rip open her top, exposing her perky tits. They are on the smaller side, but they’re big enough to jiggle with each bounce and that’s good enough for you. Hanni grabs your head as you latch onto her tits, licking and sucking every inch of her chest. The pressure begins to build in your loins and you know the end is coming soon. Wanting to milk every drop of this experience, you stand up, supporting Hanni by the ass, and begin ramming into her with every ounce of energy you have left. Rather than a 40-something-year-old man, you feel like you’re reborn again into your 20-year-old body. You feel the familiar tightening of Hanni’spussy around your member, and with one final thrust, your body is elevated to Heaven. Shooting rope after rope into her deep cunt, the high is nothing like you’ve ever experienced in your lifetime. Not even your wife- Ah, who cares about her. She’s nothing but dirt under your foot, while Hanni is an angel sent from above.

You gently place her down on the seat before collapsing next to her, shutting your eyes so you can replay this entire experience in your head. Never in your life did you think you would ever get this lucky. The train comes to a halt, and a hand pats your shoulder.

“Sorry Daddy, but this is my stop,” she giggles as she skips towards the open doors. Despite the rough pounding you just gave her, she somehow managed to look presentable in the short time that your eyes were closed. “I’ll see you around, Daddy~”

The last thing you see is her wink before hopping off the train and disappearing into the night. You’re disappointed that you didn’t ask for her contact information before she left, but you’re confident that you’ll cross paths with her again in the future. Surely, whatever god that heard your prayers isn’t that cruel, right?

As you approach your stop, you quickly get yourself sorted, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention from passersby. If your wife asks about any mysterious “stains” on you, you could easily attribute it to being clumsy while drinking. Not that she would care enough to ask anyway. 

Upon exiting the car, a police officer stops you as you approach the stairs.

“Excuse me, sir,” he says. You try to ignore him, hoping that there’s someone behind you that he’s referring to, but unfortunately, nobody else is around. “Sir, I need to talk to you for just a moment.”

“What’s the problem, officer?” You ask, hiding your panic behind a nervous smile. A whirlwind of questions swarm your mind. Is this about Hanni? Did you get caught? Was it that drunk guy that sold you out? Beads of sweat begin to form on your head as the police officer questions you.

“There has been an increase in robberies in the subway recently and I just want to ask if you saw any suspicious individuals lurking around the subway.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that the heat isn’t on you. “Well, no officer, I haven’t seen any suspicious individuals around,” you reply.

“Are you sure?” He asks. “All the victims have described the suspect as being a short Asian girl, about 18 years of age, with big brown eyes and black hair. Does that ring any bells for you?

An alarm blares throughout your head. Surely he’s lying, right? Maybe he’s talking about a different Asian girl. There are probably thousands, no, MILLIONS of people that fit that criteria. Besides, you and Hanni shared a special connection tonight. She’s the answer to everything that ever went wrong in your life, an angel sent from Heaven to cure you of your miseries. Hanni wouldn’t lie to you, right?

You dig through your pockets, frantically scrambling for your wallet and your phone. You feel something in your pocket and pull it out, only to be filled with dread at the sight of it - white cotton panties.

[elodieunderglass]

You never clearly state it, but its obvious Killie missed his brother. Charlies absence is seen in all the cracks Killie has. But did Charlie miss Killie? Its easy to say: "of course he did! Thats his twin! He must have missed him!" But did he? Did he allow himself the time to grieve? Did he tell his partners there is a carbon copy of himself walking around somewhere? Or did he lock up this part of himself as secure as he was able to not look back and live his life? Do Charlie and Killie ever talk about this? They dont seem to be like people, who talk about feelings. eww feelings

(in reference to Killie to jockey OC, who was estranged for a long time from his twin brother Charlie)

Charlie was the one who left. and when he left, he went scorched-earth. By leaving, he cut himself off from not just his immediate family, but his career path, extended family, horses, horse racing, his friends, horses, his native country, his magical-realism-psychic connection to his twin, horses, the family's religion (probably a plus side but definitely a framework); and, when you remove the load-bearing explanatory bit about "being a generational jockey", quite a strange relationship with his body/exercise/nutrition/self-care/pain tolerance/masculinity. Charlie went to England, sheltered with his horrible English family and took their last name for a bit, played along to get them to pay for his uni, went to uni in a panic, took up weird jobs, sheltered with his friend Ken and lived on his boat, and pursued an absurd career trajectory, largely in a panic at the thought of Ken going to graduate school without him. At the time of reuniting with Killie, Charlie had a rich life full of partners, kids, friends, career, hobbies, and therapy. He was Winning at Life and Mental Health! and sang with his friends and did healthy things like KNITTING! and was a PRESENT AND INVOLVED FATHER and had TWO! WHOLE! SPOUSES! which looks like a perfect life. it looks like Charlie did very well for himself. it looks like he Won. And he did! He's a good father and a good husband (husband²?) and has a job and everything. But, if you squint, and think about how what society deems "winning" is milestone-based; and how a lost person who is viscerally, addictively competitive might view "bagging life milestones" as an excellent replacement for "bagging horse-shaped golden trophies"; and remember that Charlie is off his hinge in a way that LOOKS healthy but is, nonetheless, off his bloody hinge, then you go: hmmm! Charlie you are POWERFULLY and OBVIOUSLY off your bloody rocker, and you only get away with it because it's all in ways that are charming and/or marketable.

this implies that Charlie needed to find about 25 people to replace Killie; that he needed to study, out of nowhere, astrophysics at the doctoral level as a way to keep himself from thinking about other things; that he tried on a lot of different masks in order to find one that fitted; that he snatched up as much light and colour and noise as possible to fill his head; and that he was, in general, Extremely Bad at being alone. He did not function alone. without family, structure, direction, ambition - cut completely loose - he is very lucky that he actually had a workable plan, that he found good people, and that he bounced into pockets of uncannily good luck. he's lucky that Ken picked him up and put him in his pocket. he's lucky that he was a good singer. he's lucky that he somehow managed to stay on the straight and narrow and build an entire life. it definitely looks like a life! a life that a Real Person would have! why would anyone grieve that! don't be silly!!! Charlie's mirror-book to Killie's would be On The Straight and Narrow. Ken's The Straight, and the narrowboat (and charlie) are the narrow.

and he would not talk about his family. and he would lie to everyone. I think his partners and closest friends would probably know, eventually, where he came from, and that he'd had siblings. but the light and colour and noise in between (the husband in front of you) and (whatever his childhood was) would be its own distraction and barrier.

Don't be silly! he was raised by pirates! he was raised by wolves! charlie made himself out of junk. charlie was born fully formed in a duck's nest. charlie is actually Ken's ginger brother (he takes after Mr MacKenzie, you see it, right?) Charlie's birth name was definitely and legally Charles Dragonfly. why would you not believe that

[kandlewick]

“Huh. The stars are different here too.” You really shouldn’t be surprised as you laid back against the cold roof of the Ramshackle dorm, arms outstretched towards the sky. Cassiopeia, Orion, Andromeda… not even the Big and Little Dipper were there, everything was new and foreign to you. The night sky was something you use to take comfort in as a child, knowing that no matter how far you were from home, you were still under the same sky and stars. Here you felt… lost. There was no morning star to guide you home anymore. Everything was so different and strange. You felt a little tickle in the back of your throat. gn reader x malleus (platonic or romantic)

“What was that, child of man?”

“It’s nothing really, Horton.” You turned your head slightly and met the gaze of your quiet companion. Malleus stood beside you, his eyes lowered, a quiet mix of contemplation and curiosity at the sight of you. Whether he knew it or not, his tall form kept the chilly winds away. You shake your head, offering him a small smile and shrug, “I try not to think too much about it but…” you couldn’t help but let out a sigh, a deep one from in your chest, “I really am far from home.”

“Yes, you are.” Malleus’s gaze never left yours as you turned away to look back at the sky, a forlorn expression forming on your face. You could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he tried to consider his next move, as if trying to plan out the best course of action. It was almost funny how unuse to human interaction the fae prince was with his piercing stare and slow blinking eyes, almost alien. You could almost understand why some people would find the prince an intimidating figure even without the title and prestige.

You hummed, “It’s funny to think about, with how different our worlds are, how much is the same but just slightly different because of the ability to wield magic. We’ve hardly learned about our own oceans, yet we’ve mapped the stars farther than we could ever possibly go in a single lifetime. Isn’t that amazing?”

“What an odd concept. Just what do you plan to do with this information?” Malleus cocked his head to the side, eyes wide in curiosity, “If humans like you live such short lives, what do you gain by this?”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at his wording but seeing Malleus’ eyes narrow and a pout forming on his face, you quickly hide your smile behind your hand, waving it off. You hadn’t meant to, he was just so honest about his curiosities. But the thought did give you pause and so you grew quiet. You sat back and pondered this before coming to the only conclusion you could think of.

“I guess we’re lonely?”

“Lonely?”

“Ah, yeah. Lonely.”

You figured Malleus could understand that. 

“We can hardly get along with ourselves but the idea of being alone on a rock surrounded by nothing but empty space for billions of miles, dead planet after another is…” You let out a breath and drew your legs close to your chest, your fingers tightly entwining. Despite not being alone here on the roof, all of a sudden you felt so lonely. You had very quickly learned how to compartmentalize the anxiety, the anger, the fear that came with being in a new world. It was easy to ignore the gnawing worry in your chest clawing at your throat every time you thought of home, about your job, about your life. Out of sight, out of mind, right? However, sometimes in the quiet of the evenings, you could feel it crawl its way back into your heart. The cold night air seemed even chillier than normal, even with your companion standing by your side.

Malleus finally lowered himself down next to you as you became quiet, a nameless expression on his face. He wasn’t used to comforting others, you could tell, by the way he seemed to fidget in his own strange ways. His gloved hands were in his lap, his eyes less narrowed, and he kept peeking at you from behind his hair. If you weren’t used to how he normally acted, you might not even have noticed but you did. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“But to make up for that loneliness, we sent out a spacecraft — two to be exact — to adventure farther out than mankind could even hope to reach. Their names were Voyager! They were thrown deep into space to learn and study and show us all the beauty our universe offered. Oh, Malleus, I wish I was able to show you.”

“Perhaps if given a description, I could attempt to recreate it for you.” His words were kind, an offer to give your memories a physical form. It was a sweet thought.

You hummed and leaned back, looking up at this world’s universe., “Sadly, the spacecraft couldn’t be powered indefinitely. Last I checked, it only had 10 years left of its life before it stopped speaking back to us… but that’s ok because on them, we left a little present.”

“A gift? Perhaps your universe isn’t so lonely after all if you’re attempting to offer something to whoever finds it.” Malleus’ hand reached up and cupped his cheek in thought, as if the idea of throwing a present into the vacuum of space wasn’t something fantastical. You wondered if Twisted Wonderland has ever wanted to explore its stars. Would they have a reason to? There didn’t seem to be any sort of arm’s race from what you’ve picked up.

“Yes! We call it the golden record! On it, we’ve stuffed it full of a bunch of stuff we thought was important to us. Music, our language, photos of us.” You slowly closed your eyes and smiled, “Everything we could have possibly have put in it, we did.”

“Then are you not something similar to that?” Malleus asked.

You turned quickly and stared up at him, his bright green eyes nearly piercing yours as he blinked down at you. His face was gentle, tender while he softly continued, his shoulder nearly bumping into your own. “A Voyager. A traveller. You are far from home but you’ve shown me plenty of things I’ve never experienced before.”

You flushed from his words, a dark blush creeping up your neck. You could feel your ears burning while you tried to break eye contact, instead choosing to stare at a particularly uninteresting loose board barely hanging on on top of your roof. Malleus paid you no mind and continued, his voice reaching you even over the winds that chill your bones.

“You are what we, — No, what I — know of your world. You are my Voyager. Thank you for traveling so far to reach me, Child of Man.”

[junedenim]

the shutterbugs

because it lasts forever

part 1

warnings: very smutty, very fluffy, slight slapping, chow town, blowie vill, piv palace, flash warning, recording warning

word count: 4k

You're standing in front of the produce, strawberries to be specific. One hand on the small shopping cart, the other on your chin. You're contemplating the strawberries. They aren't in season but they look perfectly sculpted, painted in a daunting red, designed to grab your eyes.

Then you hear the click. There he is. Alex. His tiny camera sitting in his hand. His brown leather jacket crinkles as he drops the camera down from his eyes, revealing his face. He plays the shy innocent card—bashful smile with those enamored brown eyes staring straight at you.

You giggle at the familiar sight. "God, you're like glorified paparazzi. You never leave me alone with that thing." You swat your hand at him and gaze back upon the strawberries.

He comes closer to you, one of his hands landing on your shoulder. "How could I?" He lands a kiss upon your cheek, gentle and soft.

You lift a carton, examining it. "Should I get strawberries?"

He pulls back, landing a hand on the small of your back. "Get whatever you want, love."

"I don't know if it'll be a waste of money." You tilt them in your hand trying to decide. It's easy for him to get lost in you in moments like this. That's why he takes pictures of all these little things. You make everything seem fun. The idea of the grocery store is a joy to you and something that was such a pain in his day, you make an adventure out of it, not only with his photography but with your behavior. 

"All eat 'em if you don't like 'em, so get 'em," Alex insists.

You hum, tapping your chin before exclaiming your decision, "Okay!"  You place them in the cart and start your stroll again. He lags behind to capture a picture. "Alex," you whine, "don't make me do all the work."

He snaps a shot of your frustrated face—nose wrinkled up, hand on your hip—before putting the camera away and taking over for you by pushing the cart. 

Things came easily in your relationship. He felt it was something you both just relaxed into the inevitability. In other relationships, this would have caused him trouble. He’s been called uncommunicative and taciturn for a time or twenty—something inherited from being a natural perceiver hidden behind the camera.

But this time was different. It was like a puzzle piece had fallen into place. Part of him slotted into part of you and that missing gap was no more. Maybe he’s becoming soppy, he’s been accused of that by some, including you—though that is more a teasing flirt than ridicule. 

He doesn’t mind. He takes it all with a shrug of his shoulders like yeah, no shit, how can you not be in love with her? 

*

Alex finds it weird that you, as a model, think having pictures of yourself is egotistical. He won’t pride himself and say he’s the greatest photographer of all time and he doesn’t have an altar dedicated to his work but he thinks homes are supposed to have pictures of loved ones. He reasons you’re a loved one so he should have pictures of you. He tries to convince you of this when you’re moving in.

You refuse every picture. He scrolls through each one trying to get you on his side. You shake your head at each one. There are the grocery shopping photos. There are the photos of you by the ocean wearing only bottoms (fair enough, if your parents ever visit). There’s one of you doing laundry, pissed off he was getting in your way. There’s the one when you painted his bedroom walls. 

You told him no person should have stark white walls. It makes you insane and the walls get super dirty. So, you painted them yellow with a bandana tying your hair back and a sunshine smile on your face. He asked you to move in that day.

“I’d like to have you around more often,” he said, standing on the ladder, perfecting the lines between the wall and the ceiling.

You giggled. “But I’m here all the time already.”

“Maybe you could live here all the time,” he offered plainly.

So, now there’s your clothes next to his clothes and way too many shoes on the rack and you have this weird powder you put in all your drinks that makes the water green. He had a taste of it once and almost vomited. But he sees that shade of green everywhere now because he thinks of you everywhere now. He likes the sight of your body next to his body.

The bed is warmer now and his house is starting to gain personality now, covered in colour and books and artwork, no longer looking like an asylum’s padded room. The world just seems to brighten up. He always found that to be cheesy, the way those people who aren’t in love roll their eyes when someone gushes, but he gets it now. As if the world was blurry and you’ve shifted it into focus.

Sometimes he feels crazy. He desires you violently. It’s kind of his every waking thought and he knows that’s crazy because it makes his heart beat really quickly and he’s aroused by just the thought of you. That’s certifiable. 

But then one time you straddled him in the morning. He had just woken up, barely had enough time to open his eyes before you were all over him. He never considered that he may want him this intensely too. Enough to crawl all over him during your first wink of the day. You’re uncontrollable. You’re licking up his body and you’re making him feel like he’s dead and you are the gates of heaven, slowly opening to him.

He reaches down in between the two front gates, runs his fingers through you. He brings it back up to his mouth just to taste it because he’s never tasted something quite so sweet. “They should make that into a lollipop,” he says.

“Shut up.” You hit his chest and he can tell you’re hungry for it. You would usually laugh at something like that but you’re horny, rubbing your cunt along his thigh, soaking your wetness on him. 

He puts his hands on your hips and stops your movement. He has you groaning and writhing against his hold. He’s hungry too but it’s nice to see you starve. “I was gonna give you a blowjob,” you say, “now I’m not so sure.”

Alex pouts. “You don’t behave well enough to give me a blowjob.”

You lean over him, your hair making a curtain around the two of you. “What do I behave well enough for?” Fuck. You’re whispering seductively, your breathing making love to his breathing, and it’s unfair when you have a voice like that. “What? Are you going to spank me?”

No, he doesn’t have the nerve for that. He doesn’t ever want you to hurt, even if you ask for it. Also, he thinks he’d be bad at it. Like it would be too soft or too half-hearted or he would rather fuck you within an inch of your life than smack you around. Fucking you sounds really fucking nice.

“Do you want to spank me?” He counters.

You straighten and laugh at him. It’s ruthless but he likes the feeling. You sober when you see his face. “Wait. Are you serious?”

He shrugs. “Yeah. Hit me.”

You giggle nervously. “Like on the ass?”

“Wherever you want.” He does mind pain if it gives you pleasure.

You scoot down so you’re sitting on his thighs. “What if I kick you in the balls?”

He blushes and chuckles. “If you want, I would like to still have working function of my dick and I think you would too.”

You put your hand on his cock over his boxers. You press down on it placing pressure but not hurting him. “I wouldn’t kick you that hard.”

“I’ve seen you work out. I think I’d have to get a new set.”

You tilt your head back in laughter. Then, you pounce, laying your mouth on him, covering yourself over him. You kiss his bare chest, a straight line down from his Adam’s apple to his pubic mound. You bite into the waistband of his boxers, teething on them. Then, you drag until he pops out. 

You sit up again. “Should you roll over now so I can smack you?” You’re touching your lips together to reduce giggles.

“Don’t make fun of me. It’s natural sexual desire.”

“I’m not making fun of you.” Despite the insistence, your laughter bubbles up. “Swear.”

“Uh-huh,” he sounds. He can barely be heard over you losing it.

To hell with this, he thinks. He lifts his hips and rolls until you’re on your back and unable to breathe because of the shock. “I could blow air on you and you’d fall over,” he says.

You smirk. “I’m already laying down.”

He groans and ground his head into your stomach. It would be annoying if you weren’t so cute. 

His mouth is right there, kissing just above your clit. He would tease you if he wasn’t voracious. He sticks his tongue in and you crack almost instantly. Hands to the roots of his hair, yanking as if to scalp him. It hurts and he loves it because it’s a sign of your uncontrollable gratification.

“Higher,” you command, so he goes higher. He sucks right on the clit, pucker his lips out to tweak it, to put his tongue on it, to turn it in his mouth. He goes harder with each of your moans.

Alex traces his fingers up your leg until he reaches the middle of you. He runs his fingers through and then pushes in, fucks you with his fingers because he wants to be soaked by you. He wants his fingers to prune with the taste of you. 

You wanted more and now you think you asked for too much. It’s overwhelming and you’re beat red and you just woke up but you’ve never felt more exhausted in your life. But you don’t want him to stop. You want to dissolve into his hands.

You weren’t inexperienced when you met him but you were young and you had never felt lovemaking like this before. Sex was something to make guys like you. Sex was to make babies. Sex was something to fake your way through in the hopes of maybe, one day, that boyfriend will figure out how to make a girl cum.

Men are more appealing when Alex is included with them. Before men were gross, stuffy, stuck-up beings with only a handful of good ones that were either taken or related. You wake up smiling every day because you realize you’re one of the people you used to be jealous of. You’re consumed by the idea people look at you guys together and are green with envy. He’s one of the taken ones now and he’s taken by you.

And then you cum and it all goes white, those thoughts in your head. It’s the only time in your life when you don’t think it all. And then you spend the rest of your day replaying it in your head. You knew orgasms were good but you understand now why all guys think about is sex because it feels like that’s all you think about now too.

When you can see again, he’s lying on top of you, brushing your hair off of your face. He’s smiling and not in the pride way, but in the plain old happy way. Because making a woman cum isn’t an achievement for him. He’s never struggled with you and you doubt he’s ever struggled much since he figured out where a woman’s clitoris is. 

The urge suddenly possesses you because the thought has been ticking in your head since he mentioned it. You slap him. Clearly across the face. It barely makes a noise but it puts a red mark on his face. He squints his eyes and shakes his head before he’s able to process everything.

You’re laughing below him, clearly sheepish by the action and waiting for his response. He can’t think of anything to say. He didn’t think you’d actually do it and he’s kind of stunned, but, you know, incredibly turned on.

“Do you still want that blowjob?” You ask, a slight blush on your cheeks like you’re a schoolgirl with a crush. He lets out a breathy laugh. You feel the way his stomach rubbles, tickling up against your skin. Sometimes you’d like to rip him limb from limb, other times, you’d like to just stare at his softness.

He rubs his nose against yours, his mouth hovering over yours. “You can if you like. I won’t object.” He’s kissing you gently like a cushion for your soul to rest on.

You nudge him to signal him to roll off of you. When he’s on his back, you assume your previous position straddling his legs. You take him in your hand, squeezing him slightly before putting him in your mouth. He’s half-hard. You like the way he feels when he’s soft like you have to work for it. Sometimes you like to feel him when his dick is in its resting position. The slight window into his natural body.

For better or worse, he arouses quickly. You take the compliment and suck him off. You lick his shaft because it always gets him kicking his legs and he’s fighting against your body resting on top of his legs, unintentionally brushing against your pussy. 

You kiss his tip, treating him delicately after the harshness inflicted on his face. You want to treat him right and make him squirm from the lightest touch. You mouth your way down his cock and begin to stroke him with one of your hands.

He curls his toes and squeezes his eyes shut, despite how much he wants to look at this. He wants to capture every moment of this. He wants someone to transmit the whole scene into his brain to replay over and over again. He sees why people become sex addicts and he might even be one because he wants to stay buried in this. He pets your hair back before fisting it, cumming, jerking up, and shaking his legs. He can’t help but mutter, “Fuck.”

He opens his eyes and sees you wipe your mouth after taking every drop of him. He tosses his head back. “Fuck.”

*

You like watching him take pictures. You don’t often get to center in on him because you’re usually the one he’s taking photos of, but every once in a while he’s able to take you with him. You fake being an assistant and sit in his chair and watch him work. You’ll get him a bottle of water to play into the act but other than that you simply watch him.

He leans a certain way depending on how good of a photo he thinks it’ll be. If he’s standing straight up, he hates it. If he’s all the way forward, willing to get on the ground for the photo, he’s completely in love, swooning for the photo (you know from experience that he likes getting on his knees, at least for you).

It’s probably not the smartest thing for you to be on set with him because he’s easily distracted. It’s hard to pull his attention away from the camera but he’s beginning to understand the beauty of his own eyes. It’s much sweeter to look at you than whatever person is before him.

People used to ask him how he didn't fall in love with all these beautiful models. Before you, he had always viewed this as work. He keeps work and pleasure separate. What a fool he was because mixing pleasure with work was the best decision of his life. But nobody else has had that ability. You drive your personality into the photo. Your gaze only turns any picture into art. He thinks whoever said eyes are the windows to the soul was only referring to you. Everyone else is just a model, nothing else.

This doesn’t do well when he’s on a professional photoshoot and he’s distracted every two seconds by you—your laugh, your eyes, your smile, the way you leave to talk to Jerry (because nobody else ever wants to talk to Jerry).

He has two models yell at him for getting distracted but he doesn’t understand how they can blame him. How are they not staring at you? 

He’s a fool who should never bring you to work again but can’t bear to leave your side. He has an attachment issue.

*

Alex gets an idea. This can either be the smartest idea ever or the dumbest one. This one might be the first to lie somewhere in the middle.

“You want to make a sex tape?”

“An artistic film,” he says because he’s a pretentious prick who claims everything you do is art. It’s flattering but sometimes you want to brush your teeth in peace.

“A porno.”

He purses his lips. “An erotic film.”

You furrow your brows. “Do you jerk off to photos of me?”

He stands up and collects your plates from dinner, silently.

You gasp. “You totally do. You perv. I never gave you permission to do that!”

Alex chuckles. “What did you think I was doing with nude photos of you?”

You follow him to the kitchen sink. “Admiring their aesthetic quality.”

“Believe me, your tits are very aesthetically pleasing.”

You smack his arm and walk down the hall.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

You don’t bother to turn back and walk straight to the bedroom. “To prepare for my porno debut.”

*

The sex tape, or whatever you want to call it, doesn’t happen until the weekend. Alex wants to shoot it on film because he’s a weirdo (he admits it) and you want to get cute lingerie because you're self-absorbed (you admit it). You’re two peas in a pod.

“Are you rolling?” You ask him as he sets up. “Oh, god, that was the most pornographic thing I could have said.”

“Relax,” he commands. You’re on edge, he can tell. 

In an effort to put you at ease, he walks over and lies on top of you. He wraps his arms around you and holds you to him. He digs his nose into your neck and breathes you in. He told you once that you smelled like what he imagines clouds smell like and cherries. It puts him at ease and his body in this position calms you. It’s familiar and there’s no reason to be performative.

“Do you ever wish that film could capture smell?” He asks into your skin.

“When there’s cookies on screen, yeah, but what if someone farts or just smells bad?”

He chuckles and looks up at you. His smile is joyous and there’s something about this being for only you—the smile and this film. It makes this idea of his even more interesting because it’s not about sex, it’s about these little in-between moments.

Each move is delicate. He’s always been a smooth lover, even when he’s harsh and raw, his touch is always soft. He parts your legs and drags your underwear down. He takes his shirt off and you unclip your bra. He stands off the bed to take his pants off. 

“Film is expensive so we’re gonna have to go quick,” he says. It leaves you cackling and already out of breath.

“That’s up to you. You’re the one who drags things out for so long.”

Alex joins you back in bed. “I can’t help it if I last long.”

You squint. “I didn’t say that. It takes you a long time to make me cum.”

He leans over you, pushing you down against the mattress. “I know that isn’t true.” He moves closer and closer. It would be threatening if his eyes weren’t so swoon-worthy. You want to kiss every inch of his face. You’d give butterfly kisses to his eyelashes. You’d make love to every last inch of him.

He’s fast, but in a controlled manner. His hips meet yours and he lines himself up with your core. He eases in slowly as you engulf his cock. He hums at the wetness and you moan at being open. Sometimes it feels like the first time all over again. Sometimes it feels like you’ve been doing this all your life and you’ll do it for another hundred years. Either way, you don’t mind, both feel this good.

“Should we be loud?” You ask.

Alex smirks. “You’re already loud.”

You roll your eyes. “I mean so the camera can hear us.”

He’s moving in and out of you now. “I don’t think it’ll have a problem hearing us.” He thrusts straight into, knocking your head against the wooden headboard, eliciting a moan from you. He knows every move in the book. He could write a manual on you to fuck you.

You push against his shoulders. “Should we do a sexier position?”

His grin is shit-eating. “Like what?” You’d slap him again if you didn’t think he’d enjoy it so much.

“I don’t know. Should I ride you? Or doggy? What way do you want it?”

“Whatever way you want it.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows. He’s still moving, albeit slowly, but still pleasantly. “I don’t know that’s why I asked you.”

“Alright.” He pulls out of you and it aches. It isn’t right, he should always be there. It feels like a part of you slipped out. He flops onto his back beside you. “Go to work.”

“Facing you or the camera?”

“Me.”

“But the camera won’t be able to see my boobs.”

“But I’ll be able to see your boobs.”

“But does future you want to see my boobs?”

“Every me wants to see your boobs.”

“So, I should face the camera.”

“No, I still want to have sex with you, not the camera.”

You giggle and don’t say anything else. You want to give yourself over to him. The whole point of this was to commit your sex to film not have sex for the film. You sink down onto him and rock against him. It’s quick because you want it to be, not because the amount of film calls for it.

It’s the perfect sight for him. Some people like sunsets or the ocean, he likes your body. He doesn’t care if it’s naked, clothed, or covered by bubbles in the bath, every part of it is poetic. He’s a bit self-conscious about him being on film. He isn’t used to being in front of the camera. But he so desperately wants you committed to filmic memory. He’s terrified one day you’ll leave or he’ll get dementia or amnesia. He wants to remember every second of this. 

You arch your back and throw your head back. You’re shaking. His hips buck up, slamming into you, finishing you both off. You land on top of him and this is his favourite part, other than the incomparable act of coming for a man, this is his second favourite. He wraps his arms around you, still inside you, and holds this moment in his arms. 

The physical thing will always be better than any photography or piece of film. Only here can he feel your laughter and see your smile and smell that cloudy scent and feel the touch of your delicate, little hands. Only here can he kiss every bit of you while resting inside you. He feels you as you slowly fall asleep. He whispers, “I love you,” only for himself to hear, but you know it just as well as he does.

*

The film cuts off right around when you straddle him. Something is better than nothing. You can always do it again. Neither of you mind.

*

a/n: sigh, the long-awaited part 2. is it as good? probably not. but it's the most smut i've written in a while i feel like (two scenes in a fic, very impressive for me as of late, i am no longer a prude). i wrote the first part of this fic back in september and now here we are in march with 3.3k words more. anyway, take a picture, it'll last longer. and someone please take more pictures of alex. please & thank you!

[scarletwinterxx]

sweeter than fiction - dad mark lee scenario

hellooo ~ i know a lot of you waited for dad mark🥺to be honest, i'm not sure if there will be a next one. this one feels like that full circle moment. But i'm not one to close doors so maybe in the future I will write more but it might take a while before i make one. thank you again for loving this series so muchhh, from all thirteen parts of my heart THANK YOU THANK YOU🥺🤍🤍🤍

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Navigating parenthood is not an easy task, to this day it's still a daunting task. Mark's eldest son is already 13 but until now there are days he worries he might not be doing it right.

Then he thinks of you, how you've basically dedicated your life growing and nurturing your family and all he can think about is how lucky he is. You have gifted him with three beautiful children and a home you've built with love, compassion, kindness and everything good in this world. To Mark, you deserve nothing less than the universe but for now all he can give you is a luxury vacation with your mom.

At first you were reluctant to leave him with all 3 kids but Minjung is at that age where he already helps around the house, Minjee is grown enough too and knows just what she likes and when she likes it and Minsu well he's still a baby but Mark can handle that.

Or so he says.

"Buddy, can you check on your sister please? She's been quiet for five minutes. I'm getting worried" Mark tells his oldest while the youngest is fast asleep in his arms after drinking milk.

Minjung gets up from where he was reading his book to go check on his sister, it was still early in the day so Mark's thinking of taking everyone out to pass some time.

Mark waits for the two siblings to come downstairs after calling their names, the two walking towards the living room "How about we go out for the day? Go to the beach and have a picnic?" he suggests

"But mom said you can't cook, you're not allowed to touch the stove" Minjee says like she's teasing her dad

"I'm not going to, missy. We're going to get food outside then we'll have a picnic"

"Sounds fun" Minjung says

"Can I bring some plushies?" Minjee asks "You can take two"

"But daaaad"

"Nope not today, sissy. It's only the four of us okay? If one of your dolls get lost I can't find it. You can take them all next time"

The little girl pouts but nods her head. Mark gives himself a mental pat in the back for not saying yes to her so easily, you'd be proud of him.

"Okay, go get ready. We'll leave in a while"

The trip to the beach was quick, turns out Minjee is very much like you. She didn’t enjoy being under the sun for too long and didn’t like it when the sand get between her toes. It was adorable but Mark can only handle so much alone so the four of them ended up at a nearby ice cream shop before heading home. 

When they got home, Mark ordered food for everyone since he’s still banned from cooking and the kids wanted pizza for dinner so that’s what he got. Then he got them ready for bed before checking the house and making his way upstairs to your bedroom. 

Mark just finished talking with you on the phone when he hears the knocking on the bedroom door before Minjung pokes his head in, “Dad? Can I go in?”

“Hey buddy, what’s up? Why aren’t you sleeping yet?” Mark asks his oldest son, patting your side of the bed. Minjung walks towards his dad, getting on the bed beside his dad

“There’s something I want to ask you” he says, playing with his fingers. A mannerism he got from you, Mark notices. You used to do that too when you’re about to ask him about something. 

“What is it?” he asks his son

“How did you tell mom you liked her?”

Mark was definitely not expecting that question, and he’s definitely not ready for one of his babies to start asking about love. 

“How did I tell your mom I liked her?” Mark asked back, making Minjung nod his head

“Well I uh, actually it’s a funny story” Mark smiles as he recalls the memory from that day. The start of you and him. “I had a big crush on your mom, I liked her so so much I always get nervous when I talk to her, I always end up saying only two to three words to her. She was the prettiest girl in class, she’s smart, confident. I really thought she was waaaay out of my league. But she was always nice to me, she always talked to me in class, shared her notes with me when I was busy or I missed a class. Then I thought about asking her to get ice cream after school but I got too shy, your uncle Hyuck had to help me”

“What happened?” Minjung asks, smiling up at his dad. Excited to hear the story.

“He literally pushed me in front of your mom and told her I had something to say. I stuttered so bad but she just smiled at me, that was the day I embarrassed myself in front of her but that was also the day she said yes to getting ice cream with me” Mark grins at his son, their smiles a mirror of each other. 

Now he realizes Minjung has always been surrounded with love because of you and him. He didn’t have to worry because his son knows what love is.  Him and his siblings are a product of that love, and also this home. 

Everyday Minjung hears his mom laugh at his dad’s joke even though sometimes it’s not that funny, everyday he sees his dad smile at his mom even when she’s not looking, everyday he sees them hugging in the kitchen during the quiet morning just before all the rush, everyday he sees his dad come in the door after a long day at work with his arms wide open waiting for his mom’s hug like a homecoming ceremony. 

“How did you know you love mom?”

“It’s a lot of things all at once. I don’t know how to describe it, not even now after being together for so many years. A part of me always knew she was the one even before I fully realized it. I don’t remember life before her or what comes after her. I just know I live for her, and you and your siblings” he tells his son, giving his hair a ruffle “You’ll know what I’m talking about one day”

“So, I just ask her to go get ice cream with me?” Minjung asks

Oh right, Mark remembers what this conversation was about. “Yea, just think about what she likes. If she likes ice cream then yeah, or if she likes going out for a walk how about a walk in the park or movies. Just be genuine, always be a gentleman and respect her decision”

Minjung nods at his father’s words, “When is mom coming home?”

“Tomorrow”

“Can I uh, stay here with you? Can we watch Spiderman?”

Mark can never say no to his kids, even after all these years of being a dad he still doesn’t know how to do it. That’s why he always gets scolded by you because the kids know they can ask him if there’s something they want and you say no. 

“Sure buddy, that sounds fun. Go get the remote”

A few hours later, the father-son look alike is fast asleep on the bed. The tv playing in the background, casting a light on the two. That was the sight that welcomed you when you entered the bedroom. 

You wanted to surprise Mark by coming home tonight but it looks like you’re the one being surprised. Mark was snoring lightly while Minjung was sleeping beside him, you see the movie playing on the screen and chuckle to yourself. Minhyung and Minjung really are twins. 

Watching Minjung grow up, you see more of Mark in him as the years pass by. Feels like yesterday you just took him home, two very nervous first time parents. Now your first baby is growing up to be a fine young man. 

Walking slowly towards the bed, you get the remote first to turn off the tv. Pulling the covers over Minjung to make sure he’s tucked in. Leaning down to give him a goodnight kiss before going back to Mark’s side. There was enough space for you to scoot yourself in, you lay your head on his chest. The feeling of something or someone rather, laying on him makes Mark wake up from his slumber

“Huh?” he grumbles, arms reaching out to feel around the bed. Then he recognizes immediately who it was “Baby, you’re here already?”

“Yea, I wanted to surprise you and the kids” you whisper back. You feel his arms tighten around you, holding you closer on his chest and giving you a kiss on the forehead. 

“Is everything okay with Minjung?” you ask, wondering why he’s sleeping here

“Huh? Oh yea, we were just watching a movie. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. Are you okay sleeping here? You comfy?”

You smile at his question, there’s really no place more comfortable than his embrace. You lean your head up to kiss him on the chin before tucking yourself back into him. “I’m good here. Goodnight, baby”

“I missed you” you hear him say before sleep takes over once again. 

And that’s how you ended your day, with your two boys with you. The next morning, you wake up before the two boys. You gently pry away from Mark’s grip to check on your other babies. You check Minjee first, she’s still fast asleep on her bed while cuddling one of her many plushies. She’s always been a deep sleeper. You know not to wake her up or else she’ll be grumpy the whole day so you let her be. 

Next you check your youngest, Minsu. The baby boy also still fast asleep in his crib. Now a year old, he’s a mix of you and Mark. He got your nose and his father’s cheeks. He likes watching his older brother play the piano ad loves dancing with his big sister. Minsu is the beloved youngest member of the Lee family. 

You make your way downstairs to start breakfast, but first you make yourself a cup of coffee. You were waiting for the coffee to brew when you feel a pair of arms circle your waist, your husband burrying his face on the side of your neck

“Goodmorning, Mr. Lee. How was your sleep?” 

“Better, now that you’re back. But you left so I woke up”

You chuckle at how adorable Mark was, even after all these years he can still make the butterflies in your stomach flutter all around. It’s silly but your crush for your husband never really went away, if anything it just got stronger over the years. 

“You’re cute, so how was the kids while I was gone?” you ask him, this time Mark rests his chin on your shoulder to tell you about the previous happenings while you were gone

“Minsu is an angel, he loves the baby food you left. I think it was the mashed avocado one. Minjee can now ride a bike, she’s still wobbly but she’s definitely better than you”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding baby, but am I wrong? You don’t know how to ride a bike” he teases you

“I know how to ride you” you tease him back. You can hear Mark laugh from behind you, feeling his chest vibrate against your back “That you do, don’t tempt me”

You turn around in his arms so now you’re chest to chest, Mark looks down at you eyes full of love “I missed you” he mumbles 

“Missed you too, where’s my kiss?” You don’t need to ask him twice, his lips are immediately on yours. You can feel him smile against your lips, arms tightening around you. You enjoyed the short vacation but really there’s no place you’d rather be, this is your own safe haven. 

Mark is  and will forever your own getaway. 

Breaking away from each other, Mark peppers kisses all over your face eliciting giggles from you. 

“By the way, is Minjung okay? Why was he in our room last night?” you ask your husband

“Oh yea, he just wanted to ask me about something. Be ready though”

“Be ready for what?”

“Our son asked me how I asked you out, I think he’s planning to ask someone out on a date”

You stare back at him with a shocked look, just like Mark expected. 

“Our baby’s all grown up now. Remember when you first left us home alone” Mark chuckles

“Nooooo, my baby boy”

“Well he’s not so baby anymore”

You can’t even begin to describe what you’re feeling, you’re definitely not ready for this. “What did you tell him?” you ask

“Exactly what happened when I asked you out”

“You mean when you asked me out to get ice cream, that time Hyuck literally pushed you towards me” you chuckle as you remember that day

“Mhm”

“Now that you said that, I’m wondering too. Why did you like me?” you ask him

“That’s like asking why the sky is blue” Mark mumbles, rolling his eyes playfully

“Indulge me, come on tell meeee. Or how did you know you loved me”

“I’m gonna tell you because we’re already married so you can’t run away from me now. I knew I was going to marry you the moment we met. I just knew. You smiled at me and I just know that was a smile I want to see every morning I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. I knew I loved you when you got me a bible for my birthday after I lost my old one. You said you weren’t the most religious person but you went out your way to get that for me. You loved me in ways I didn’t know I could find love. If one day Minjung ask me again about love, I’ll tell him all about you because that’s what love means to me. It’s you”

“Oh my gosh, our baby is all grown up. What are we going to do? I’m not ready for this” you tell him, eyes filled tears both from his declaration of love and the idea of your little being in love

“Hey don’t cry. It’s exciting to see him growing up, and he’s not shy asking us about what to do so it’s a good thing. We’ll be there when he needs us, our baby still needs us” he cradles your face in hands, ready to wipe any tear that’s threatening to spill

“Where did the time go? Next thing we know it’s Jee asking us if she can go out on a date. What will you do then?” you ask with a laugh

“Easy, I’ll go with them”

“You’re not going to our daughter’s first date”

“Like heck I won’t. I’ll be three tables away, she won’t even notice I’m there”

You laugh at Mark’s future plan, there’s never really a dull day being married to him. Even though you’re never sure what the future holds, one thing you’re sure of is you’re ready to face it as long as you have him by your side. You used to dream about this life you have with him, marrying the man of your dreams and live happily ever after. 

But Mark gave you so much more than that, he gave you the fairytale reality others can only dream about. He’s the dream man made just for you and he’s yours in this lifetime. 

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

part10: fool for you

part11: your day

[daizedndconfused]

thievin’

a/n- idk why im up right now but yay first post of 2025 who’s hyped?? ik i’ve been like mia for a bit but i blame my ps5 for that. also back in school!! awesome (can you tell im crying) lmaooo anyway this is defo gonna be like a mini series so get ready okay lots of love everyone hope you keep up your resolutions if you do em<33

characters- cole brookstone x thief fem!reader

type- eh fluff kinda/enemies to lovers type beat you’ll see

warnings- very mild suggestive comments (not proofread)

synopsis- you’re a thief living in the most run down part of ninjago. you’re doing everything you can to make ends meet, but sometimes you gotta bite the bullet and take a gamble. in order to make a little extra cash you’re sent on a mission to steal a very priceless artifact—the most high risk heist you’ve ever been on. you encounter a certain ninja during your outing and you just can’t help yourself to a little bit of fun upon meeting him. will he let you go? will you succeed in recovering the artifact? or will it be your head on the line instead?

word count- 3.1k

Being poor was okay. Obviously, it wasn’t the ideal spot to be in, and sure you’d prefer to have money and not have to worry about whether or not you would be able to feed yourself tomorrow but you can’t have it all, can you?

Everybody thought Ninjago was the most gorgeous city–clearly they’ve never visited your side of town. You personally didn’t think it was an awful place to live, but it definitely isn't what people would expect out of the great ninjago city.

Nevertheless, it was home. Well, home since your parents died and you were left to fend for yourself. Technically, your mother died during childbirth, or shortly after. You didn’t really like to ask your father about it. It seemed insensitive.

The loss of your father was more recently caused by an unsuspected illness you didn’t have the funds to get treated. You lost him seven years ago, and you miss both of them immensely, even if you never knew your mother–she still held a place in your heart, and your blood.

Plus, it wasn’t as if you were completely alone. The loss of your parents and your home only hindered your spirit for a few months. But eventually, you had to grow up. You had only yourself now, and you needed to start getting your shit together.

That’s how you found yourself living in a narrow alley with nothing but a few blankets to separate yourself from the hard concrete, and a tarp above your head held up by hopes and dreams in case it rained. Courtesy of a girl you’d met three years ago–Henley.

You did what you had to to survive, the both of you did, but your version of ‘work’ was a tad more illegal than Henley’s. While your friend chose to work at some manufacturing factory that paid maybe ten cents an hour, you quickly developed the skill of ‘soft hands.’

Just a little something you picked up in the few years before befriending Henley. Plus, living where you did at the time, it was customary for your father to teach you martial arts, and teach he did. He often pushed you to your limits, making sure your senses were always on high alert.

Though now you supposed you were grateful for it. It made it easy to navigate the crowded streets of Uri–the poorer side of Ninjago that most people decided to ignore.

The early morning sun beat down on you, somehow finding its way around the tarp above your head.

Groaning you rolled over, hoping to block out the rays and catch a few more hours of sleep.

“Morning,” Henley yawned from beside you.

You mumbled incoherently back at her.

“I’ve gotta get going, work starts soon,” Henley told you. You heard her scooting closer towards you.

“Why d’you work at that shithole?” You grumbled, still not fully awake. “They barely pay you, Henley.”

You could practically see the expression on her freckled face. She was most likely staring down at you with a torn and somewhat somber expression.

“It’s the only place that would hire me,” she muttered. “You know that.”

Squeezing your eyes tight you then sat up, stretching out your back. Upon opening your eyes you came to find out your assumption was correct.

“Yeah,” you nod. “Which is bullshit by the way. Any web company would be lucky to have you.”

Henley shrugged a shoulder. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Then it’s a good thing we haven’t stooped that low,” you reassured her. You left the unspoken yet out of the sentence.

Henley smiled, brushing back her mane of curly red hair. “Okay, now I really need to go. Please, be safe today, and try not to get caught. I really don’t know if I can stomach breaking you out of jail again.”

“In my defense,” you said as she stood to leave. “There may have been some alcohol behind the reason that asshole caught up to me.”

Henley fixed you with a look that said, Good luck, before she looked up and down the already busy streets and made her way to the factory.

You gave yourself a few more minutes before heading out onto the streets. As usual, Uri was already busy at like eight a.m on a weekday. Stall owners were yelling at anyone passing by as if the volume would persuade people to stop and buy a useless trinket they didn’t need.

Still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you wove through people, fluid like a leaf in the wind. It was almost too easy to nick people’s wallets this way. In Uri it was almost impossible to walk anywhere without brushing shoulders with someone. Lucky for you, the jacket you wore held many pockets to store your ‘finds’ on the street.

After palming a few wallets on your way to possibly the best looking building in this part of town, you opened them up to find nothing much. Out of all the wallets you lifted, you got a whopping thirty dollars.

See that was the issue with living in a poor neighborhood–everyone you stole from was also poor. Not a great match unfortunately.

Sighing, you made your way towards the tallest building in Uri. It also just happened to be where you’d pick up a way to make some extra cash on the days that were really slow. Just from waking up this morning you knew today would be one of them.

The only issue is, the jobs you’re given are risky, and so you try not to do them as often.

The guards posted outside of the doors let you through without any issues. At this point you’d been coming here sporadically for about five and a half years. You were the best and most reliable thief Malina had.

A few doors, some hallways, and an elevator later, you stood in front of the woman herself.

Malina stared at you with a victorious glint in her eyes, her head resting on her intertwined fingers. “And here I thought you broke up with me.”

“Ah, you know me,” you shrugged, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “Always comin’ back.”

“Now that I can always rely on.” Malina leaned back in her big leather chair, one long leg crossed over the other.

Malina was the only successful business owner in this Uri. Shockingly, she got most of her wealth from illegal schemes and black market dealings. Which is why she needed you.

Malian didn’t waste any time in throwing down a file on top of her spotless desk.

“It’s all in there,” she waved a gloved hand, her diamond bracelet twinkling in the light of her office.

You reached for the file and flipped it open to survey its contents. Your eyes widened as you continued further and further down the papers clipped together. This job was impossible.

Usually, nothing is impossible for you. However, in the past Malina only ever had you stealing jewels from old guys on their deathbed, or artwork from museums, and sometimes some random priceless artifact guarded in an equally random warehouse.

Apparently this time she really wanted to put you to the test.

“This is a joke,” you said, flipping the file shut.

“How so?” Malina asked, dark brows furrowed in innocence.

“Look, you give me work, and I’ve always appreciated that,” you told her honestly. “But stealing from the Royal Family is my one way ticket to a lifetime in prison.”

Malina pouted at you. “And here I thought my star employee never got caught.”

You scoffed out a laugh, tongue in your cheek as you looked up to the heavens for patience.

When she didn’t back down you finally spoke. “What else you got for me?”

“Unfortunately,” Malina said, though her tone didn’t suggest she found it anywhere near unfortunate, “that’s it.”

“Bullshit,” you challenged.

Malina raised her hands. “I’m serious! Work’s been booming lately.”

Crossing your arms, you rolled your eyes. The two of you stood unspeaking, staring at each other as you weighed your options.

On the plus side, if you did this job successfully, you and Henley might be able to afford an actual apartment. A shitty one, but it was better than the alley. Plus, you might also be able to afford the first few months of rent before you get a real job and force Henley to quit hers at the factory.

Closing your eyes you reluctantly agreed. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Malina’s grin widened into an eerie expression, her pearly white teeth shone almost as bright as the diamonds around her wrist. “I knew you would. Clothes are in their usual place.”

You nodded and spun on your heel, hightailing it out of Malina’s office. Thankfully, ever since you all but pledged your loyalty to her, she’d provide you with some living essentials occasionally. Things like showers, a hairbrush, basic needs like that.

But when she sent you out on a mission, she made sure you were set up for success, and the rest was on you. Opening the wooden wardrobe at the end of the hall, you were greeted with the familiar sight of the dark clothing you typically wore on outings such as these.

You picked the uniform off the hanger and quickly found the nearest room to change in. Even though you wouldn’t be leaving until nightfall, you still would rather put it on now as it helped you even in Uri. With the hood and mask covering the bottom half of your face, the only thing you could really make out was your hair and eyes.

You spent most of the day on the roof tops, going over the blueprints of the palace Malina provided for you, along with the guard rotations. Pacing along the edge of an old rundown building, you slowly came up with a plan. Though, the object you had been assigned to steal was a bit odd. You expected jewels, or even the crown, but instead you were sent after a golden hourglass, with equally golden sand inside.

You didn’t know the properties or importance of the object, but to be honest, you didn’t really care. You just wanted to get the job done and over with so you could return home and finally place a roof over your head after seven years of sleeping under the open sky.

As soon as the sun set beyond the city, you set out. Of course, you left Henley a note explaining you might not be back tonight–and that you might not be back at all–but you assured her not to worry.

It took a while to get to the good part of town, but a few subway trains later, you finally made it. And what a difference it was.

Instead of yelling and aggressive haggling, there was light chatter, laughter, and the buzz of technology reverberating around you. Not to mention the colors. Almost every sign in Ninjago was neon, and sometimes you couldn’t help but get a little sidetracked looking at all the beautiful things you’d never get to experience yourself.

Eventually, you found yourself by the palace. Fishing out the timetable of the guard rotations, you determined that the east side of the castle would be the most unprotected in about two minutes–meaning you had to be quick.

Quick you were. You managed to get to the east side and scale the wall in a minute and thirty. Tiptoeing around the outer wall, you made sure to keep your eyes on the guards below. So far, none of them noticed you.

Finally, you landed on the tiled roof. By memorization, the hourglass would be located in a mostly open room on the top floor. Carefully maneuvering around the roof, making sure to not make too much noise, you managed to unlock the window and pull it open.

Thankfully, it didn’t make much noise. Letting out an internal sigh of relief, you quickly tied a rope on one of the support pillars of the palace and threw it over the side of the window. Directly below the window was an obnoxiously large potted plant that would do well to hide you from view.

You briefly wondered if you’d be able to climb back up with rope one handed, but instead you figured you could bring a cord to secure the hourglass onto your belt loop.

As usual, you landed on the red wood floors without a sound. As much as you wished to stick around and admire the impressive castle you’d only ever seen in newspapers, you had a job to do.

Heart hammering, you peeked around the plant to find two guards–both with their back towards you.

It feels almost too easy, you thought as you crept towards the hourglass displayed on a pedestal.

Once you got close enough, you took a few moments to inspect the pedestal. There was a very possible chance of the hourglass being placed upon a weighted pressure plate that would set off the emergency alarms if removed, but after looking at it, the stone surface looked entirely even. There most likely wasn’t any extra security around this artifact, but in the off chance there was, you’d have to be ready to run.

Calming your mind, you swiped it quickly, preferring to take it and bolt in case the alarms went off.

You got three strides in before your luck ran out. All around you alarms had started blaring, alerting every guard on the premises. However, by that point you had already tied the glass around your waist and were ascending the rope.

You could vaguely make out the alarmed voices of the guards chasing after you, and as soon as you heaved yourself onto the roof, you sliced the rope with the knife in your boot. Two thuds and pained grunts were all you heard before you bolted.

Guards were climbing up at every point, but what they had in size and brute strength, you had in speed and agility. Being quick on your feet was like second nature–and you really should send a letter to the Royal Family to invest in some guards. These ones weren’t all that good at their job.

You hoped over them in groups, and it felt like you knew the palace layout better than they did. You knew exactly where to step and when to step, that by the time you landed on the other side of the walls, you knew you had one.

You grinned and laughed triumphantly as you jumped across the rooftops. The guards got further and further away and you blame the adrenaline in your veins for what happened next.

Suddenly, something tangled itself around your ankles, sending you tumbling to the concrete of an apartment complex.

“Son of a–” you winced, cradling the wrist you had landed on at an awkward angle.

Sitting up quickly, you reached for the rope wrapped around your ankles when a boot beat you to it.

“I don’t think that belongs to you,” the stranger spoke.

Looking up slowly, you mentally cursed yourself at the figure standing above you.

The Earth Ninja.

Why the hell were they at the palace? Why did they care about some petty robbery, wasn’t there some maniac trying to destroy the world that they should be busy with at the moment?

“What? The outfit? It doesn’t–borrowed from a friend.” You leaned back on your palms, looking up at the Earth Ninja’s strikingly gorgeous face.

He wasn’t wearing his mask tonight, leaving all his features on display–brown eyes that you guessed were a gorgeous shade of hazel in the light, shaggy but well kept hair as dark as the sky above, and a build that could rival the strength of an ox.

Cocking your head, you pushed your hood back and mask down, letting him see your roaming eyes and approving smirk.

“I need that.” He pointed to the golden hourglass at your hip. Apparently he didn’t find your jokes very funny.

“No, I need it,” you countered. “How else am I supposed to keep track of the time? I don’t have a watch.”

You shoved your hands up, rotating your wrists spastically to emphasize your point.

The Earth Ninja leaned down, but you didn’t back down. “Just hand over the glass, and I’ll tell them you dropped it trying to flee.”

You too leaned towards him, the both of you so close your noses were almost touching. In the ninja’s favor, his expression didn’t falter.

“I told you, I need it.”

“And I gave you an ultimatum,” the ninja returned, his eyes hardening. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” You smirked with a wink.

You saw his facade crack slightly as he twitched back every so slightly. That was all the hesitation you needed.

As the two of you went back and forth, you had been discreetly severing the rope binding your legs, and you quickly wrapped them around his waist, flipping him over onto his back. The Earth Ninja landed with a harsh exhale. You leaped off of him quickly before he could counter your surprise attack.

He was a ninja, and you knew there was no way you’d be able to beat him at hand to hand combat, but you could avoid him. Your thought was proven when he was back on his feet and into a fighting stance a split second after you created distance between you and him.

The Earth Ninja raised a curious brow at you over his raised fists. “Who are you?”

“Funny I was about to ask the same thing,” you laughed. “But, I think I’ve got something that could help me out with that–Cole L. Brookstone–what’s the L for? Oh well, six-foot five inches, black hair, two hundred and ten pounds–” you broke off looking him up and down. “Well you certainly don’t look over two hundred.”

Cole’s eyes widened as he lunged for you, and the wallet in your hand. You jumped back from him easily and continued to read off his driver's license.

“Hazel eyes, nineteen years old–oh cute we’re the same age–”

“Give it back!” He demanded, reaching for you again, only for you to slide under his legs and appear behind him.

“Born on October 25th–” another attempt to grab you had you using the rope previously used on you against him, binding his wrists, and legs making him fall on his ass.

You then hopped onto the roof of the entrance hallway of the building, and sat on the edge, legs swinging in front of you.

You continued to flip through his wallet, “Restaurant receipt–you know you don’t have to keep those. Lifetime subway pass, oh you lucky bastard. Gift card you’ve probably had for three years, credit card–very shiny, one fifty in cash and–” you paused upon seeing the last item in his standard leather wallet.

Sliding your eyes down to the boy your age, you raised a brow at him, almost laughing at his red face you could see even in the dark.

“Why do you have a condom in your wallet?” You giggled.

Cole momentarily stopped struggling against the rope and had the decency to look away, embarrassed.

“Emergencies,” he grumbled, glaring up at you.

“Ah, right,” you sucked air through your teeth before tossing it back down on his lap.

Flexing his arms, he snapped the ropes like they were ribbons and did the same with the ones binding his legs.

“So, it seems we're at an impasse,” you sighed.

“No,” he stood, “we’re not.”

“Au contraire, you’ll never catch me. You had your shot, and you blew it.” You pointed at him accusingly. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I’m very slippery. And I assure you–you chase, and I’ll run, and I can keep running for a damn long time.”

It would become a game of cat and mouse you knew would go on forever.

“Surely you don’t expect me to just let you walk away with a priceless artifact from the Royal Family.” Cole crossed his arms.

“Exactly–impasse.”

The stubborn boy shook his head, black waves flopping. “No, I–”

Before he could finish his sentence, the dart was already buried into his arm.

Cole startled, looking down at the tiny metal needle sticking out of his right bicep. He gave you an unimpressed look before reaching with his other hand to pluck it from his body. However, his hand was halfway there when it went limp by his side.

Cole’s brown eyes went wide as his legs too started to wobble, and shortly after the rest of his body gave away.

He once again landed on the ground with a dull thud.

Smiling slightly you gracefully jumped down from your perch and made your way over to him to retrieve your dart.

“What the hell is that?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“Just a numbing sedative,” you responded, pocketing it. “Don’t worry it’ll wear off in like an hour.”

“An hour? Hell no, help me up.”

“Hmm, tempting,” you deadpanned, but you did prop his back up against the wall of the roof in a sitting position.

Cole glared at you, and you smirked back.

“I enjoyed our little game of cat and mouse my friend,” you patted his cheek before standing to full height. “But I’m afraid I must be going. Places to be, money to be made–you know how it is.”

“Hey! Wait!” Cole called to your retreating back.

But you didn’t. Instead you leapt down to the adjacent roof and all but skipped back to Uri, happy that you weren’t caught, but you weren’t entirely mad about meeting the Earth Ninja either. Secretly, you hoped he'd track you down–where round two of your game would take place.

[swallowtail-lotus]

🔱Secret Lullaby {Poseidon x Goddess!Reader}🔱

Repost of my original post from my old blog.

God, just looking at him makes me want to kiss him 😍

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat in the middle of your greenhouse, patting a small bunny that hopped in your lap. You watched the past few rounds of ragnarok with sad eyes, feeling dread inside.

Being the God/Goddess of peace wasn't easy.

You love humans and everything on Earth, as it is your home. Before you went to Valhalla, you used to live in a forest where no human dared to set foot in unless If they wanted a death wish.

Of course, you never brought harm to humans but you eventually left after Zeus found you and offered you to live with the gods.

Being the secretive being you are, you agreed but only if no deity disturbs you when you wanted to be left alone and to never let them know of your secret place.

So far, no God or Goddess has ever found your greenhouse. Even if they bothered to try, they couldn't find it. This was due to one of your masking spells, which was more effective to deities compared to the humans.

Thinking back on how the gods have tried to get answers out of you, but failed due to your ability to slip away fast enough. Those thoughts escalated to your past, where you were once filled with joy.

With your mother, who had lost her life to another God.

"I miss you, mother. So very much."

You thought, wiping away tears that slowly trickled down your face. You looked down at the bunny, who looked up and sat up. It leaned against your chest, trying to lean its face towards yours. You lifted the small bunny up and felt its face nuzzle yours, an attempt to cheer you up.

"Ah, thank you. I feel better now."

You cooed softly, patting its head with a sad smile. You felt something nudge your leg, something hard. You leaned forward to see a small harp near your right foot and a grey bunny pushing it towards your foot.

You held your hand over the harp, watching it levitate towards your hand. The grey bunny hopped on your right leg, nuzzling your waist while the white bunny copied the grey bunny.

"Such cuties."

You mumbled softly, watching them get comfortable on your lap and stopped to lay down. Your fingers hovered over the strings of your harp, slightly shaking from the sadness building up.

"Hope you're hearing this, mother..."

You muttered under your breath, strumming your harp slowly. Closing your eyes, you let yourself drown in the melodic music from your strumming. You opened your lips to sing quietly.

Soon, the animals in your greenhouse started to gather around, watching and listening to your voice. Then, the plants started swaying slowly to the music. At the end of the lullaby, a voice brought you out of your thoughts.

"What are you doing?"

Your eyes shot open at the sudden voice, growing wider when you saw who it was.

It was none other than Poseidon, the Sea God himself.

You stared at the God before you, internally panicking, mainly about how he knew of your greenhouse. You placed the harp down nervously, fiddling with your fingers.

"I-I was just playing a lullaby. Umm, how did you find my greenhouse?"

You squeaked out, feeling yourself shrink smaller when the God took a few steps forward, not too close to you.

"... It wasn't hard to follow you. I've known for a long time."

He answered, his emotionless face along with his voice sending chills down your spine. You knew very well he never speaks much to any being, even to his brothers. So him speaking to you now of all times baffled you. Truth be told, he has spoke to you more times than anyone else. But hearing him ask about your main hobby was strange.

The reason behind that was most likely because you were a Ruler, the Ruler of Nature.

"So you have. Never expected less from you, of course."

You spoke, gripping your clothes so tightly. Poseidon raised his eyebrows slightly, his shoulders dropping.

"....."

He kept silent, staring down at you with his dull eyes. Your head was down, but you knew he was staring. The sound of his boots clicking away got your attention. You held the bunnies close to you, standing up from your seat.

"See you, Lord Poseidon."

You whispered. Poseidon stopped at the entrance of your greenhouse, giving you the side eye glance.

".... Goodbye."

Those was the last words he let out before leaving. You stood in silence, a confused look on your face.

"What just happened?"

[kyoshitargaryen]

experiences shifting to Hogwarts

I've shifted multiple times — rarely to my scripted DRs, but I've shifted dozens of times to realities similar to them or within the potterverse. here's some of my experiences! a lot of them vary since a majority of the time, I'm not shifting to scripted places. @elegantcath; @butterycroissant; @etheriaaly

hopefully this all makes sense bc I wrote this on no sleep lol

background

I'm a slytherin, so this is very much based around my experience in that house along with the perceptions regarding it. it definitely does impact my relationships with people and the professors. my DRs are also University DRs. remember, I most often shift to random realities and not to places I scripted, so there can be some variation in how things work.

about hogwarts

the first week of lessons of first year are quality-of-life lessons. think warming charms, the summoning charm, locking and unlocking (especially important for the students who share dorms), reparo, stuff you would need on a daily basis or for basic survival.

I scripted that we use Floo Flames within Hogwarts to get to different floors and corridors and our common rooms efficiently. you basically just have to put your hand in and name a corridor you wish to go to, and you floo there instantly. the best part? no mess! since you're just putting your hand in, it's easily brushed off. no soot or floo powder sticking on you all day. problem? you still have to walk to Hogsmeade, unless you're physically disabled. if you are, you get to floo through Headmaster Dumbledore's office — but you have to be escorted with your head of house.

the uniforms and robes are spelled to be extremely long-lasting. they don't fray or degrade where regular clothing might. they're also magically tailored, so they grow or shrink based on your size. there's no need to replace them, but many opt to as a show of wealth.

I scripted that I have my own dorm room since I'm autistic and need alone time. some students can pay a higher tuition to be alone or pay a lower one to share a dorm. there are also accomodations for disabled students.

there are hampers in the dorm rooms! I'm not sure if there's one per bed in the shared rooms, but there's definitely one in my solo room. they're spelled to be "bottomless" so you can shove all of your clothes, your sheets, your comforter in without problem. at midnight every night whatever's in there is sent to be washed by house elves and delivered back in the morning. I think there might be an option for "housekeeping" where the house elves change your sheets, but I prefer to keep others out of my room as much as possible lol so they just put my sheets on top of my trunk and my clothes in my wardrobe.

I've shifted to multiple realities where they have different dorm and common room configurations. in my DR, it's simply long corridors of dorms connected to the larger common room. the hive configuration: there's a main common room, which acts as the heart of the House. it's very large and spacious, with plenty of ways to entertain oneself. it's almost like a large ballroom. then there are smaller common rooms that are connected to dorms, laid out like honeycombs. there were 5 individual dorms connected to the smaller common room, where there was a kitchen and shared bathroom. this was the "living room" of the hive for the people whose dorms were attached to it. it's kinda like there were little houses within a larger house. the winding configuration: like how the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers go up, this configuration for Slytherins winds down. it's like a spiral staircase of rooms. the maze configuration: I hated this one with my whole soul. if I ever shift there again I will be shifting back immediately. I won't bother exploring. I don't think it can get worse than this. the maze configuration is some awful mix between the maze in the triwizard tournament and the moving staircases. it's awful and so easy to get lost. it's interesting in that there are false walls so if you accidentally make a wrong turn, you can find your way back, but you're probably not going to figure out the floorplan of that until you're in your 7th year. I think it's a way to enclose a large amount of rooms within a small space. I'm not sure if the different floorplans of the maze correspond to different years, but I....there's no words for it. the only benefit of it was there was a large spa-like room if you could find the heart of it. it was like the prefect's bathroom but better. almost like a hot spring.

there's two ways that the dorm rooms change by year that I've encountered; a longer explanation; the first years are always closest to the common room. as you reach different years in your education, your dorm room will move down (or slide down if it's the winding configuration, or move out if you're in the hive configuration) to make room for the first years. there's no structural change to your room or even the area surrounding it. it looks no different than it did before, there's just a new number of doors you have to pass before you reach yours. there's only been a couple of times where there was an elevator for the dorm rooms, with each year on a different level, but generally it seems it's just a walking game. simple explanation; the dorms spread out from the common room like dendrites do a nerve (or the fingers do a palm), so the students in a house are spread evenly through the "fingers", so the walk isn't that long. the first way the years are separated are through flooring. there's a staircase where the different landings correspond to different years. the second way I've seen is they simply move down in a line, meaning a longer walk.

I'm like 90% sure there's an amplification spell cast on the podium where Dumbledore gives his speech and the frog choir performs.

the benches in the great hall have warming charms on them in the winter. I'm not sure if this is a natural feature of Hogwarts or if someone who came before me charmed the bench. they are still definitely uncomfortable.

the robes are not insulated; instead, we use warming charms! I love putting warming charms on ear muffs.

hogsmeade and the hogwarts express

I've only managed to get to Hogsmeade once. it was a completely accidental shift to a reality where I hadn't even considered shifting to at that time — Hogwarts Legacy. Sebastian, Ominus, and myself were sitting in a corner booth at the Three Broomsticks. the most I can share from that experience was that Sebastian sprayed whipped cream on my butterbeer, so I guess you're meant to put it on by yourself? I'd order it without whipped cream anyway so I'm not sure if it would come with or if you're meant to put it on yourself.

the glass in the hogwarts express frosts over when someone is getting dressed. people don't usually go to a bathroom to change, they just change in the compartment. people of different sexes usually wait out in the hallway. tbh this is what I always pictured when reading the books so this may be subconsciously scripted.

the hogwarts express magically accommodates the people on board. there's always just enough compartments and just enough train carts for everyone — though it won't go out of its way to make a new compartment just so you don't have to share.

general wizarding world facts

each wizarding school has a magical tome that lists out the students who are able to enroll at the school. there are multiple different ways to qualify for enrollment; location-based, where you're within the country or countries the school represents; legacy-based, where one of your ancestors within a certain number of generations attended the university or if you're a descendant of someone notable like Merlin or a Founder; sponsor-based, where someone of recognition has recommended your enrollment to the school

places where there's a lot of muggle-traffic like King's Cross have limited repello muggletum cast within a certain range of places of high wizarding-traffic, like the entrance to Platform 9¾. since it's so limited, it doesn't keep muggles from walking near the area, it instead forces their attention away from it. this is how there are wizarding entrances in muggle places while still maintaining the statute of secrecy. as soon as the entrance is within eyeshot, something happens or something catches the attention of the muggle. it's basically just a blindspot.

I scripted that there are multiple schools throughout the wizarding world to make up for the lack of foresight in canon, but interestingly, there's the same amount of "main" universities like Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts, but there are smaller ones that I would relate to community colleges in America. this could be subconscious scripting based on my college experiences in this reality though.

the bathrooms are always charmed to be clean, at least in Hogwarts. there's still a need for maintenance, but there shouldn't be any terrible smells or grime.

I scripted that the fashion in the wizarding world are more aligned with Game of Thrones and general medieval wardrobe. I just really adore the look and tbh I like it more than just plain robes. there are a lot of what I assume are preservation spells on the clothing, so many are passed down through generations for special events. they're not nearly as strong as whatever preservation spells are put on school uniforms, but that's probably to keep low-income families in mind re: schooling where it wouldn't really be thought of in fashion since that's where the rich flaunt themselves.

this is really niche and I'm not sure if it applies to every reality, but if you put the tip of the broom to your mouth and blow, special features can appear. sometimes there are hidden foot pedals or even handlebars!

there are different forms of magic based on culture and ethnicity. indigenous magic is very different to the magic you'd see in Harry Potter. e.g. runic magic. the magic in Harry Potter is kinda the "standard" set globally. this is probably because of colonization. I view it as being like a common tongue for the wizarding world.

spell experiences

using the duplication spell wandlessly feels so cool. it's kinda like you're pulling the edges of whatever you're multiplying in two different directions, and a second item magically forms in the middle! kinda like pulling something out of a mirror.

lumos solaris is a variant of lumos solem. if solem is the beam of light, then solaris is the star itself. it's completely heatless so there's no danger other than possibly blinding yourself. you can "throw" the star up into the sky and it'll shine down as though it were daytime. I dunno if it's a canon spell or one just in my realities.

aguamenti can go wrong very quickly. try to think of the pressure you're trying to conjure when you cast it.

accio is not instantaneous. you can feel like a fool sometimes while you wait for whatever you're summoning makes its way to you.

lumos has different levels to it depending on what you ask for, and I'm not talking about maxima. if you think of the amount of light you're meaning to conjure, it can be as soft as a reading light or candle.

scourgify and tergeo are going to be your best friends. they are the clumsy's greatest tool. they're both cleaning spells, but you can use scourgify more generally and tergeo to collect or remove. so if you spill something expensive like ink, you can use tergeo to collect the spill and deposit it back to the inkwell or pen. you have to be careful though, because if you're not intentional about wanting it to return to where it was spilled from, you can accidentally vanish it entirely.

sonorus sometimes sounds like talking over a loudspeaker lol. it can be kinda difficult for me to keep my train of thought when using it because the difference is so drastic.

a lot of parents use arresto momentum. like more than you realize. instead of "parent reflexes" where you catch the kid, you spell them into safety. I've had to use it entirely too many times (I trust my cat's ability to land on her feet far less than she does).

incarcerous doesn't have a definite way of binding something or someone. I can't tell if it adapts based on the caster's intention or if it depends on the environment. I have seen people use it to make macrame pot hanger. there are probably better spells for artistic things like that? but in a pinch, I suppose...

you can control the size of the object you're casting diminuendo on. I like to use it on stuff I'm not supposed to have lol or I don't want people to see. I had to cast it on my journal quite a few times.

I can personally do spells without incantations, just intention. I'm not sure if this is common? but it's something I can do. I didn't even bother looking up the incantation for the warming charm, I did it as soon as I shifted because ITS FUCKING COLD IN SCOTLAND and I don't handle the cold well

[drewsctover]

something meant to be.

you lost faith in yourself and in the world, but destiny is already written — and when you least expect it, happiness finds its way to you. 𓈒 ⭒ ݁ .

warnings: none !!! maybe just reader overthinking and almost having an anxiety meltdown.

prologue.

chapter one. 𓈒 ⭒ ݁ .

it’s your first day, and joel’s not even home.

what kind of dad hires a nanny to take care of his daughter and doesn’t bother to be there to meet her — y’know, the person who’s going to look after the most important human in his entire life every single day? jesus. this man is insane.

you’d never leave edward alone with a nanny before getting to know her really well. like, stalk her on social media and check her astrological-sign. you’d have to be absolutely sure she’s a good person.

edward... god, stop thinking about him. you cannot have a panic attack on your first day.

when you stepped into joel’s apartment, it totally caught you off guard — clean, organized, almost suspiciously perfect. spacious and immaculately decorated, with these big windows overlooking a postcard-worthy view of kelowna — a small town in canada where it’s always cold, but people are warm, smiley, and weirdly eager to help strangers.

the dark hardwood floors, sleek grey couch, black-and-white furniture — it all screamed modern minimalism. like, straight out of a high-end magazine. pretty? sure. but also cold. impersonal. it didn’t feel like a seven year old little girl actually lived there too. poor ellie.

you left the living room behind in silence, your eyes trailing down the long hallway toward what you assumed was ellie’s bedroom — thanks to a cute snoopy plushie hanging on the doorknob. you let out a slow breath, trying to think of a gentle way to approach.

since losing your son, you’ve done everything you could to avoid children. that sharp, unbearable ache in your chest always finds a way to show up when you see one.

he could’ve been that age. he could’ve had a room like this. would he like snoopy too?

damn it. fet it together.

your brother warned you it wouldn’t be easy — that you'd want to turn around and bolt back to the comfort of your own home. but you didn’t think it would be this hard.

it’s fine. you’ve got this.

you walk up to ellie’s door and knock softly. on the other side, you hear a grumpy little mumble, followed by hesitant footsteps. then, the door creaks open — just a sliver.

a tiny face peers out, eyes squinted with suspicion.

“you my new babysitter?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, sizing you up from head to toe. she looks bored. maybe mildly annoyed.

you nod and smile. she’s so stinkin’ cute.

“yes, ellie, i’m your new babysitter,” you reply in a whisper to match hers. “joel, your... dad...” the word sends an odd little chill down your spine. weirdo. you don’t even know why. “he told me on the phone that you’re really good at making new friends, and that you’d play with me until he gets back. can i come in?”

she doesn’t answer right away. her bright blue eyes watch you through the crack in the door. then, with the slow, deliberate movement of someone making a very important decision, she opens it the rest of the way.

she just stands there for a second, staring at you with this funny little expression, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders, chubby fists clenched like she’s bracing for battle.

“okay,” she says, her voice suddenly softer, gentler — none of the earlier suspicion in sight. “you can come in…”

she steps aside and you walk in, carefully, trying to keep your emotions in check. and thank god — the inside of her room is nothing like the rest of the apartment.

it’s full of life, not like a hospital room.

colors everywhere. dolls and toys scattered across the floor. stuffed animals lined up on shelves. crayon drawings taped to the walls. it’s messy, but in that magical way only a kid’s room can be.

he could’ve had a room like this...

your thoughts are cut short when ellie grabs your hand and pulls you down onto a pastel yellow shag rug in the middle of the room.

she’s shy, clearly, maybe a little worn out. but then she casts a quick, hesitant glance toward a little open box of nail polish sitting on her bookshelf. you catch the tiniest glimmer in her blue eyes — and that’s your cue.

you scoot a bit closer and sit beside her.

“these are amazing, ells! did you paint your nails all by yourself?” you ask, genuinely impressed.

“i did,” she says, her voice small and quiet. but you spot the ghost of a smile starting to tug at the corner of her lips. “but daddy always says i make a mess.”

“mess is part of the fun! i’m totally clumsy with nail polish too,” you admit, because honestly, it’s true. you reach for a little white bottle and hold it up, eyes wide. “this one matches my dress! will you show me how to paint?”

and just like that, her ghost of a smile becomes a full-on, toothy grin.

“okay. but don’t mess it up, okay? i know how to do it right.”

your heart basically melts right there.

she scoots in close and offers you her tiny hand. you gently place yours on top of hers. ellie picks up the bottle from the floor with both hands, carefully, and leans in like she’s working on a masterpiece.

and while she paints, you notice it.

your heart’s no longer racing. the lump in your throat is gone.

if she looked up at you now, she’d probably laugh at the dumb, starry-eyed expression you’ve got on your face.

ellie is magic.

you’re so glad you took this job.

hours pass like soft echoes in the apartment — cartoons fade, laughter quiets, ellie drifts into sleep — and now it’s just you and the dim hum of the fridge, the ticking clock, and the hush of your own breath.

you’re curled into the corner of joel’s gray couch, legs tucked under you, wearing one of ellie’s forgotten scrunchies like a bracelet and still smelling faintly of bubblegum polish.

and then, the door clicks.

you freeze, barely turning your head — like movement might break the spell — and in steps joel, finally home.

he looks… tired. worn around the edges in a way that feels permanent. his flannel’s half unbuttoned, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and his hair’s a little damp, like he ran a hand through it too many times or maybe got caught in the rain. there's a weight to his presence — not heavy, exactly, just undeniable.

when his eyes land on you, there’s a flicker of confusion. then something else. curiosity, maybe.

you sit up a little straighter, brushing your fingers over your knee like that’ll make you look less… like a person who just had her heart melted by a tiny human and is trying not to fall apart about it.

damn it, joel, you didn’t tell me your daughter’s a heart-stealer.

“hey,” you say, your voice a little softer than usual. “ellie’s out. like, out-out. didn’t even make it to the second bedtime story.”

joel raises an eyebrow as he walks farther in, tossing his keys in a bowl by the door. “that’s a record. she usually tries to negotiate at least three.”

you laugh under your breath. “yeah, she offered me a deal. if i let her watch tangled twice, she’d go to bed early.”

he chuckles. the sound is deep, low, warm in a way you weren’t expecting. “smart kid.”

“she is,” you agree. “and funny. and bossy.”

“that she is,” he mutters, like it’s a badge of honor.

you’re both quiet for a moment, the kind of pause that stretches just a little too long but doesn’t quite cross into uncomfortable. he leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching you like he’s trying to figure something out. like you surprised him.

and yeah, maybe you’re watching him back. maybe your stomach does a tiny, ridiculous flip when he smiles — just a twitch of his lips, crooked and lopsided.

you’re not supposed to notice stuff like that.

but you do.

“thanks for taking care of her,” he says, quieter now. “i know it’s the first day. that’s not always easy.”

you offer a small, genuine smile. “honestly? she made it easier than i thought she would.”

and then he nods — slowly, like maybe that means something to him — and says, “still. appreciate it.”

you nod back, heart doing that low thrum thing it hasn’t done in a while.

joel glances toward the kitchen, then back at you — a little hesitant, like he’s debating whether or not he should say what he’s about to say.

“want a coffee?” he asks, casual enough, but there’s something curious in the way he says it. like he’s testing the waters, seeing if you’ll stay just a little longer.

and for a second — just a second — you almost say yes. you picture the two of you sitting at the table, mugs in hand, the soft clink of ceramic filling the quiet, maybe talking about ellie, or life, or… whatever this little buzz in your stomach is.

but you take a slow breath, offer a soft smile, and shake your head.

“i’d love to, but… i should head home. first day and i’m already wiped out,” you say, rising slowly, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

“of course,” he nods, understanding — though something flickers behind his eyes, something that might’ve been disappointment. just a flicker. “i get it.”

you walk toward the door, and he follows, opening it for you. the warm yellow hallway light spills into the apartment like it’s gently nudging you out.

“thanks again,” he says, his voice a touch lower now, eyes meeting yours. “for everything with ellie. and… for taking the job.”

you smile, soft and genuine. “thank you for trusting me.”

you both linger there for a beat, maybe two. like there’s something else hanging in the air — something that wants to be said but refuses to take shape.

so instead, you just say:

“good night, joel.”

and he answers, steady and quiet:

“good night.”

you take a few steps down the hallway, and it’s not until the door clicks shut behind you that you realize you’d been holding your breath.

your heart’s still steady.

but your stomach… your stomach hasn’t quite caught on that this was only day one.

authors note. HELPPP i can't believe i posted this fr WHAJSBD like it says on my pinned, english isn't my first language so pls bear with me if there's any mistakes lol <3 hope u guys like it !! 🥺 if u wanna be on the taglist just lmk in the comments !!!!

[fatuismooches]

principiis amoris.

synopsis: In other words, five times Dottore swore he hated you and the one time he realized it was the opposite.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: I wanted to try my hand at these 5+1 fics, and Dottore seemed to be the best candidate. Behold, 6k+ words of fluff. Reader and Dottore are complete menaces (and not very good people) and you also throw a book at someone.

I. blindness

Much to anyone’s surprise, Zandik was having what he would call a good day. Today was the last day of all of his especially boring and easy classes, the illegal parts he secretly ordered came in, and he would be able to stay in his dorm for a while before classes started again. A break from these all these so-called scholars would be much appreciated. He was growing rather tired of them and was greatly looking forward to the much-needed retreat of progressing his research. He could feel it already - the sweet sensation of tinkering with the new parts quickened his pace.

What he was not expecting was his door to be open, voices and rustling noises coming from inside. Immediately a frown appeared and his good feeling was lost. Quickly, he entered the room and saw an unknown figure donning the Akademiya’s robes, and an academic counselor he recognized standing in his room. Now he was glad he made sure to put his tools away. Ones that were totally not prohibited.

“What is the meaning of this?” He didn’t try to hide the loathing in his voice.

The counselor shifted in place, clearly not wanting to be here anymore due to his presence. You, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care. In fact, Zandik could see that you were smiling.

“Ah, hello Zandik. Good to see you are doing well,” she lied through her teeth. “This here is [Name], your-”

“Your new roommate!” you chimed in. The counselor shrunk in her place even more, probably regretting all her life choices now as Zandik’s laser gaze was on her now. 

“I thought I made myself clear when I informed you that I did not want anyone in my dorm?”

“Yes, well, as per the rules of the Akademiya, every scholar should try to have a roommate for the purpose of cooperation…” Her voice became progressively smaller as Zandik continued to burn his gaze onto her, “a-and collaboration. Regardless of your thoughts, [Name] has to try to dorm with someone, and that someone happens to be you.” You nodded your head in agreement as the counselor spoke.

“So please, um, try to get along!” She quickly excused herself and scurried out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You smiled at him yet again, sticking your hand out for a handshake, to which he only spared a glance and turned away.

“Pleased to meet you! I’m excited to live with you!”

“We’ll see about that,” he scoffed. You’d be out of here in less than a week, just like the few other roommates he had. But to think he had to spend his break with a nuisance in his room now? That irritated him to no end. Though what confused him more was your sunny disposition. Quite literally everyone in the Akademiya knew him and acted the complete opposite.

“Hehe, sure. By the way, I call the top bunk bed!”

It was from that moment he knew.

Zandik hated you.

II. relentless

Zandik had been giving you the cold shoulder since the moment you stepped into his (now yours too) dorm. You knew this would be a tough journey, but damn. At least he was good eye candy and wasn’t loud. (If you excused his eerie laughter in the middle of the night.)

On this particular night, Zandik was at his makeshift workbench tinkering with Archon knows what, as usual. Unfortunately, even though you found it to be interesting, you were unfamiliar with all of that mechanical stuff. You always would look at him while he worked, and while he would sometimes snap at you to stop staring, he never actually did anything about it. Today was one of those nights.

“You’ve certainly been at that for a while,” you commented. Zandik showed no sign of reaction.

“You don’t want anything to eat? Or drink?” you continued.

“Don’t have time,” he responded with no hesitation, far too interested in his new play toys, and also wanting to shut down this conversation immediately. But, you didn’t think these were the ones he usually used. You think he kept the deadlier ones hidden away in case you reported him or something.

“To consume something?”

“To make something right now,” he corrected.

“Well, yeah, I know. That’s why I’m going to make it for you,” you clarified, kind of surprised (but also not) that you needed to say it directly. This managed to make your roommate pause.

“So you are offering to cook for me?” he clarified your statement yet again.

“Yes?” This time he freed his hand of items completely and looked you dead in the eye.

“Explain.”

“E-Explain? Well, I mean, we’re roommates and all, habiting the same space. It only makes sense that we do things we each other once in a while.”

“So you expect a transaction.”

“A transaction…? Huh? No! This isn’t some kind of business deal or whatever. No, I do not expect anything back from you. I am doing this for you because I want to. There’s nothing more to it.” There was no response from Zandik, and he was silent as if he was trying to process what you just said, which was rather cute.

“I do not understand.”

You mentally sighed. “That’s fine, for now. I’m gonna whip something up anyway.” Before he could protest further, you disappeared into the tiny kitchen the Akademiya’s dorms provided.

You had to think of a suitable snack. He probably wouldn’t eat it if it was too cumbersome and distracting from whatever he was doing. He needed some kind of finger food… and you had just the idea. You believed that when you were a struggling Akademiya student, it was only natural to have some good recipes up your sleeve.

Samosas. Delicious bite-sized pieces of goodness. Although they would take a bit to make, you didn’t think Zandik would care. He hardly realized the difference between minutes and hours when he was in this kind of scientific state. And you were glad you stocked up the pantry with your own products because you really had no idea how Zandik lived in these conditions.

Soon enough, you had made a portion for him (and secretly snuck a few for yourself) and you had also made a piping hot cup of coffee, a student’s best friend of course. You then plated it and brought it to your roommate, setting it down in front of him wordlessly, to which he seemed surprised.

Zandik did not realize you were even still doing that. He thought you were bluffing. But now that such aromatic food was right in front of him, his stomach came to life and he noticed the dryness of his throat. With squinted eyes, he tentatively picked up one of the samosas and inspected it. (Did he think you poisoned it or something?) But then he popped one into his mouth and began to chew experimentally. His face did not betray his emotions, but your questions were answered by his next actions.

“Hmm,” he said matter-of-factly, before nomming on another samosa. You peered at him from the top bunk bed as he polished off the bowl of samosas rather quickly. Now, he was waiting for the coffee to cool.

“Sooooo, how was my cooking?” you questioned, already internally knowing the answer even if he didn’t admit it.

“It was convenient,” he admitted. Most of the time, Zandik did not cook for himself, as he found the process a waste of time when he could be doing other things. 

“I’m glad. And the taste?”

“It was fine.” Actually, it was far more than fine. The constant consumption of the easiest food to make had dulled his taste buds and made him accustomed to bland food. Though your food was quite tasty, Zandik was not about to let you get a big head now.

“Just fine? Seemed like you scarfed them down pretty quickly,” you teased.

“The quicker I eat, the quicker I am able to devote my full attention to the research,” he corrected you. You pouted but still felt pleased.

“Then I’ll make something for you every day.”

He felt on guard again at your kindness. “Why?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t I already say? ‘Cause we’re roommates and all, and also soon-to-be friends. And friends usually help each other out, yeah? And also because I’m kind of worried how you eat the same thing over and over.” 

He immediately frowned at your proposal. “I am not your friend. And never will be.”

You shrugged your shoulders and moved to lie down instead, pulling the blankets over you. “Ehe, we’ll see. I have a way with words, you know!” You smiled and winked at him, to which you received a deadpan glare. “Good night, Zandik! Oh, and make sure to clean up afterward!”

“Hmph.”

Friend. He toyed with the word and idea in his head, mocking it internally. Friend… friend, as if that could ever be feasible. Of course not.

Zandik hated you.

III. possessiveness 

It had been a while since you moved in with Zandik, and he stopped treating you with disdain. Though, Zandik was Zandik, so you still got a tongue-lashing from time to time. (But you could never take him seriously anymore, which irritated him.)

Lately, though, he had begun to show you some of his research, and even begun to let you tinker with some of his stuff! Only while he was present of course, but you were elated. Though, he seemed to be enjoying this more than you somehow. You could ask one question and suddenly he’d be on a tangent. But you were just happy he was talking to you.

You had been upgraded from hated stranger to tolerable stranger to okay acquaintance in Zandik’s eyes. You had insisted on calling him your friend, to which he still did not understand, but for some reason he allowed it. Perhaps it was because it felt nice.

Actually, you were a helpful, okay acquaintance. You frequently looked over his notes for him, correcting spelling and grammar errors from when he scribbled so fast. Tidied up his bed and work space too. The best part was that you had begun to run errands for him so he didn’t need to leave the dorm himself. After these series of events, you had declared yourself his assistant without even asking him first, but he supposed that was okay. He valued usefulness. And maybe your company a bit, too. And although he enjoyed silence the most, maybe he liked how nice your voice was in the background.

Today was one of those days where he waited for you to get back from an errand. It was quick and easy, and the seller wasn’t too far away. Like always, he occupied himself with his work and awaited your return, which proved to be fruitful as usual. But after a while, something did not feel right.

Zandik could not put his finger on it. Why did he have this feeling in the back of his mind? He was quite irritated at this itch he could not reach. Perhaps you would have-

That’s right. You. You. You. Where were you? That’s when he realized that you were gone longer than you usually were. To think that his body and mind would get so accustomed to your presence. He wasn’t sure whether to feel disgusted or not by this feeling.

He wondered what was the holdup. But there was naught he could do except wait. And wait. And wait. Until the jiggle of the doorknob drew his attention and you stepped through the door with the items he requested. 

“Hey, Zandik,” you greeted, locking the door behind you and dropping the bag on the table. He didn’t respond, but you didn’t think that was anything strange since he never cared much for greetings. “Got your stuff,” you continued your normal routine, kicking off your shoes and shedding your sweater, expecting the silence to continue.

“What took you so long?” You almost did a double-take when he spoke.

“What?”

“What took you so long?” he repeated.

“Oh, on the way back, some students stopped me and asked if I could explain some stuff to them. I guess I did take a bit longer than usual. Why?” you questioned. Did he really notice the difference? It hadn’t even been that long, maybe ten to fifteen minutes extra that you took. And plus, it’s not like you two were doing anything together. Just sitting in silence with metal clanking as usual.

When you did not get any response, you raised your eyebrows and tip-toed your way over to him to get a glimpse of his expression. It was mostly empty if you ignored the eye twitching and the downward curve. You had to dig your fingernails into your palm to control the chuckles. 

“Could it be… did you miss little old me, Zandik?”

“Perish the thought,” Zandik immediately interrupted before you could even finish your sentence. “Your whereabouts are not my concern,” he vehemently denied.

“Mhm, alright then.”

“I simply do not see why you need to talk to those so-called scholars. They are not worth the time or energy to even look at.”

Ah, there it was. So he was jealous. You understood now.

“Well, I was just doing what a normal, nice person would do.”

“The fact that you are still living with me proves you’re not normal. As for the nice part, you don’t need to do that for anyone.”

“Oh really? So what should I do, turn a blind eye to everyone else and save the sweet words for you?” you joked.

“Yes. Were you not the one who declared yourself as my assistant? Assistants always follow their seniors,” he stated matter-of-factly.

You were completely surprised at his mini confession, that if you spoke carelessly, you knew you’d stutter. But you weren’t complaining. You ignored the heat on your face, and matched his words.

“Hmm… I would say in that case, you can’t speak to anyone either, but it’s not like you do that anyway,” you said simply, biting down on your lip to prevent laughing. Zandik immediately scowled at your statement.

“I don’t need, want, or care to speak to anyone. But since you clearly need to be around these low-tier scholars, you can get out this instant.” You couldn’t help but double over with giggles now at his defensiveness and landed on Zandik’s bed. He huffed. You loved when he acted like this.

“Ah, I’m so glad I asked to dorm with you,” you giggled with a dopey grin. Zandik paused his work, taking in what you just said.

“You… what?”

You turned to lay on your side and propped yourself up on your arm. “Hmm? Did I say something strange?” you questioned.

“You chose to live here? With me, of your own choice? I knew it was strange when the counselor chose me of all people. Surely there were others available?” Zandik was utterly baffled as he had now temporarily abandoned his tinkering to gauge your expression.

“Yes! Shall I recount the exact events for you?” Without waiting for an answer, you prattled on. “Okay so, I went to the counselor lady and she wanted me to dorm with this random guy, and I was like okay cool, but then I got this little sneak peek of the list she had and I saw your name in fancy handwriting. And then I was like, hey, that’s the smart cute morally dubious guy that I hear people talking about! So then I said, nah, give Zandik to me instead please- hey, why is your face kind of red?” 

You ended your little rambling and sat up straight, leaning into your roommate’s face. “Hey, are you embar-” Before you could finish your sentence, he quickly spun back around to face his desk, trying to block out your incessant giggling.

“Shut up,” he hissed in reply, quick to defend himself. “No one in this school would willingly live with me.” And how dare you call him that? That… c-word.

“Well,” you clutched your chest to prevent any more laughter, “That’s clearly not true anymore, because I’ve been here for quite a while! But wow, your face!” You toppled back onto his bed grinning. He swore you were brain-dead. 

Zandik hated you.

IV. like-mindedness

Zandik did not like being in public. That was something you came to realize and understand rather quickly. For the most part, you had no qualms with it. You were quite content with bantering with him in the privacy of the dorm or in the desert or forest looking for whatever specimens he wanted. There were no distractions, no other people to give you weird stares or looks.

It was another normal day for you, and you came to realize that you’d actually been living with Zandik for quite a while. You liked to think that you two were rather close now. The time had flown by quickly for you, but apparently very long for others. To say people were baffled was an understatement. 

People were shocked, fascinated, intrigued, fearful, any word you could think of, at how you managed to dorm with Zandik and still be alive, mentally and physically. Many people even applauded you for managing to live with Zandik for so long. You had people coming up to you asking for tips on how you confronted your fears so easily. The crazier ones even wanted to write a paper on your mental fortitude. (Thankfully your roommate hadn’t found out about that yet.)

Today, however, the two of you decided to stop by Puspa Café after class. It was a nice day to dine outside, and the coffee and food there was excellent. You had no complaints, especially since this was your first time doing this kind of thing with Zandik. It was going quite well, as the two of you read over your notes in silence until whispers began to penetrate the tranquility.

“Hey, look over there. Is that Zandik?”

“Oh wow, you’re right! This is my first time seeing him outside of class.”

“Really? This is my first time seeing him in general.”

“Well yeah, he only goes to class and then back to his dorm. Everyone knows he’s a freak.” Their blathering continued and you twitched your eye, unable to concentrate. You peaked at Zandik but he looked unbothered.

“We’re right in front of them and can still talk about you like that?” You were simultaneously shocked and impressed at their audacity and stupidity. Zandik simply shrugged his shoulders, his uncaring attitude shining through as he was practically immune to these kinds of scenarios now. You huffed and flipped a page in your book. Sometimes you wished you could borrow some of his ability to not care what people think.

But there was only so much you could take. And Archons above, these scholars and their incessant talking were annoying. You had no idea how Zandik could continue to read so intently with this racket. At least he was more pretty when he was quiet.

Slowly you stood up, and Zandik glanced at you, a bit confused but not too interested, still absorbed in his own book. His eyes returned to the text, but then he heard a loud thump from the side. Now more of his attention was on you, as he saw you now closed the thick book shut.

“[Name]?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow. You were now retrieving some Mora, probably for the bill, and laying it on the table. “Do you have business to attend to?”

“Business? You know what, yes, yes I do,” you chuckled a bit eerily. “But it’ll only take a couple of seconds.” With that, you picked up the textbook and lifted it up and down like a weight. Finally, you positioned yourself properly and raised your arm toward the direction of the student.

You threw the fucking textbook.

It was a sight that Zandik would never forget. A heavy book that would hurt anyone’s arm from lugging it around, flew through the air, and with uncanny precision, knocked the scholar right in the face.

It was dead silence for a few seconds.

And then chaos.

Screams erupted from the other students at the table at the sight of their fallen friend. A commotion was born as people scrambled to the boy. Zandik was having a bit of trouble comprehending what just happened. Yes, he just understood that you just threw a textbook at a guy, but he did not understand at the same time. Even he knew not to harm someone in public. (Private was a different case.) And you did it with no hesitation, no logical thought process of what would happen. It was an activity far from what most scholars did.

While he was in a little stupor, you quickly pushed your papers into your bag and slung it over your shoulder. “Hey! Teyvat to Zandik! Don’t just sit there! We have to leave the scene!” you scolded him, taking initiative and stuffing his work into his bag as well. He wasn’t the most pleased with how you treated his precious research material but that was only a fleeting thought compared to what just occurred. You threw his bag over your shoulder as well and cursed at how heavy his damn textbook was. But what he did not expect was what you did next.

Rolling your shoulders back to prepare yourself for the weight, you then grabbed his hand and started pulling him away. 

Zandik then had no words to describe his emotions. He could only focus on the prickles that arose from all over his body at such prolonged and close contact with you. He was used to your teasing - running your hands through his hair on occasion, or leaning in close to his ear to whisper something, but this simply broke his scale. He felt as though he was moving unconsciously, feet moving in sync with yours, and he had no idea how to feel or even understand this phenomenon. 

“Hey, I know you can walk faster than that!” Your voice snapped him out of his unfamiliar sensations, and that’s when he realized what was happening. You had actually managed to drag him so far along that you were both probably halfway through the city looking like complete, bumbling fools. And you were still holding his hand, and that’s when he realized again how lovely you looked in this moment. He quickly discarded those thoughts.

“Release me this instant, [Name],” he threatened, immediately putting his vexed look back up. He could feel your warmth penetrating his whole body just from your hand.

“Sure, sure~! Let’s turn into this alley to hide,” He could tell that was a complete lie because your laugh was so loud it probably rang out all the way to Port Ormos. Zandik scoffed and bit his lip to prevent a smile.

Soon enough, you both reached a secluded part of the city, away from all the hustle and bustle and caught your breath. You slid down a wall in relief and closed your eyes while Zandik had his eyes trained on you for what you just put him through.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he raised an eyebrow at your crazy behavior. You peeked at him and put your hand on your chin, in a thinking position.

“Hmm… well, that was quite fun, was it not?!” you tried to keep a straight face but you could not help but laugh at your friend’s incredulous expression.

“You- we, we are going to get in trouble with the dean you know. And the counselors,” he said, trying to bite down the smile that kept rising when he remembered the expression on the assaulted student’s face.

“We’ll be fineeeee,” you shrugged your shoulders and stretched your letters. “Haven’t you gotten into more trouble with the head administration with your little controversial experiments? Besides, if we’re lucky, he’ll be too scared to report the incident,” you laughed, completely nonchalant about what you just did.

“Hmph. The blame is on you if anything happens,” he attempted to speak in an irritated voice, but he could not help but be amused. A bit elated, even. There were many people he wanted to see get chucked with a textbook. And do worse things too.

But a bit of the thrill came from how you did that with no hesitation. It was a… strange feeling to have someone do that for him. Actually, this whole relationship was strange. You were strange. Even he felt strange. He was honestly a straight-up asshole to you sometimes, like he was to everyone else. But that didn’t drive you off. You still did things for him. You still spoke to him. You didn’t want anything in return, not money, not knowledge, not relics, but perhaps what you did want was-

Zandik stopped that line of thoughts in its tracks, trying to ignore how his hand was all tingly from you holding it. Things were fine this way, he declared. He could not admit he was enamored with you. Nothing needed to change. He had to maintain his view of you, otherwise… 

“You know, I’m surprised I even got you to do that. Did you hit your head too?”

“Shut up.”

Zandik hated you.

(You two did get into trouble. The Akademiya assigned you an apology essay which Zandik refused to do so you had to write two separate essays for each of you. With some begging, he did your homework for you in return, and somehow managed to get the blood stain off of that textbook you had thrown. You didn’t question where he learned that.)

V. kindness

It had been years since that fateful day, the time when you first moved in with Zandik. The Akademiya was a long and arduous grind, but that was to be expected. Your friendship with Zandik was one you cherished more than most things.

To say the two of you were close was an understatement. You still remember the counselor’s expression when you told her how well the two of you were getting along, and that there was no need for you to ever switch roommates. You think she became afraid of you too after that.

Tonight was a relaxed night. Zandik and you were not doing any work, simply laying side by side on his bed. (Even though he always threw fierce words at you, you knew he liked your touch.)

In the beginning, you would never be able to tear him away from that desk, but with time comes new things. You were just happy he was getting more hours of sleep.

The two of you lied in the dark as usual, simply enjoying the cool Sumeru breeze and the muffled noises from the city. You learned to grow content with these simple moments. But tonight you felt like talking.

“Hey, Zandik?”

“Hm?”

“Remember when you met me?” You could feel his head shift to look at you, probably for asking such a dumb question.

“Yes, I do. Too well, actually.”

“What was your first impression of me?” you questioned, realizing you never actually asked him that.

“That you were quite annoying and a thorn in my side.”

Anyone else might have been hurt by these words, but you did not mind. He made it pretty obvious that was how he felt in the beginning anyway, so it was no surprise. “But what about now?”

“You’re fine.” Even in the dark, he could feel your pout and pleading eyes. “And your intelligence and helpfulness deserve to be praised, I suppose.” And then he could feel your smile grow as your face was partially on his shoulder. From then the conversation flowed through many things. That research paper you two were working on, some kind of experiment he wanted to do on you (he swore it was painless), about that one scholar who was always annoying during the lectures.

The more you spoke, the more you realized how much of your life centered around being with Zandik here. You didn’t know if you ever wanted to graduate. To ever be apart from him.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. How long do you think we’ll live here?”

“Hmm, it’s hard to say. The benefits the Akademiya provides are far too good to let go of now. Speaking of that, there’s somewhere I want to visit.” 

“Oh, you mean those hidden ruins you think are connected with Khaenri’ah?” How nice it would be if you could just drape your arm over his chest.

“Yes. Though I don’t know if the Akademiya will let me make another trip back to the desert as of right now,” he pondered.

“Are you referring to how you’ve been on the Matra’s watch list for years? So they started following you everywhere?” you giggled.

“Not just me. You too, [Name],” he rolled his eyes. “At least I never threw a book at someone in public.” You pouted and playfully punched his arm.

“C’mon, that was so long ago! You can stop bringing it up!” you whined. He would never let that go, huh? The conversation died down from there, but it was a comfortable silence, which you loved. After that little banter, your eyes began to droop and you yawned. Zandik glanced at you.

“Tired?” You nodded and blearily rubbed your eyes.

“Sleep, then,” he commanded, and you had no qualms with following that. Soon enough, Zandik was the only one left awake, staring out at the open window. He had found these little resting sessions of yours good for clearing his mind. He closed his eyes too. 

Two people, on the same tiny, college-sized bed, arms brushing each other and talking nonchalantly. Totally, two good friends.

Friends. Friends, friends, friends. Long ago, the word left a distasteful feeling in his mouth, and it still did, but not for the reason he originally felt. Now, what he desired was more complicated.

Zandik hated you.

VI. endless

Zandik knew he would be expelled from the Akademiya soon, for the crimes he committed. And yet, instead of preparing for any future plans, he found himself following the directions of a note you left on his workbench. Meet me at our usual spot, 8 PM.

He was a busy man, more so in soon-to-be exile. He didn’t have time for your frivolous games. But for some reason, he found himself heading over to the cliff anyway. It was dark outside, but the stars illuminated your figure, and that was when he noticed the basket next to you as well. You noticed him and sat up eagerly.

“Hey, you made it! I was worried you wouldn’t come, to be honest.”

“...What is this?”

“Eh? A picnic, of course. The weather is real perfect for one.”

He was so astonished that the laugh building in his throat could not come out immediately. Surely you were aware of what he had done? Practically everyone in the Akademiya knew. You couldn’t walk for five minutes without hearing rumors floating around. Or perhaps you were that oblivious?

“Oh really?” His familiar, eerie laugh that you loved finally rang out. “Did a Ruin Guard finally toss you around well enough? Only an idiot wouldn’t know what I’ve-”

“I mean, do killers not like picnics anymore?” You replied so nonchalantly, he was actually a bit shocked. 

“You’re… you’re frustrating,” he murmured.

The way you managed to make him so tongue-tied all the time made him itch to put you in your place, to snap back somehow, but he found himself unable to lately. Actually, he struggled to do that for a while now, and he despised how you made him feel like a bumbling fool.

“Heh, perhaps some of your unhingedness rubbed off on me,” you shrugged, patting down the spot next to you. “Look, I made samosas for you again.”

The blanket was soft and comfy, and though he didn’t care much for the flavors of food, he did enjoy your cooking. You continued to polish off your meal before you spoke again.

“So, I hear you’re going to be expelled soon.”

“Correct. Though I care little for this place, it’s a shame to lose a suitable environment for my research.”

“Have you decided where you’re going? I’m sure you’re not planning to stay exiled in the desert for the rest of your life,” you hummed. “Leaving this country, perhaps?”

“That seems to be the most logical action. There is nowhere in this nation that would fund my research.”

“I see. You’re going far away from here.” Zandik nodded in reply, but the more he thought about it, the more irritated he felt. Far away from here meant far away from you.

To think he felt no remorse for murder but he felt a tingle of emotion (sadness? regret? anger?) at no longer being with you. Whatever it was, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He loathed to admit it, but he enjoyed your company. He enjoyed dragging you out of bed in the morning, and he enjoyed you dragging him to bed at night. He enjoyed your bantering, your inquisitive nature towards his work. He enjoyed being the only person you’d treat like this and having one person to himself. Zandik enjoyed you, thoroughly and fully.

“Well, keep me updated. I already got my bags packed and ready to go.” 

“What?” A quirk of yours, he realized, was being able to leave him surprised at the most unpredictable times. Although scholars must plan for every possibility, he found it difficult to prepare for yours.

“I’m coming with you, of course. You’re gonna need your number one assistant with you. Hey, why’d you stop eating? We still need to get through the Padisarah Pudding.”

“You? Accompany me?” All of a sudden, everything made perfect sense. Yes, of course! You were right, he thought, as a fit of laughter overcame him. It was a splendid idea, one that pleased him immensely. Having you with him would be a great asset for his research. No one suited the role better than you. And you, in general, were… nice. You didn’t grate on his nerves like everyone else.

“Ha! Good! Amazing, even! I shall be sure to tell you when we depart from this nation of fools.” You raised your eyebrows at his sudden enthusiasm, but witnessing Zandik’s bursts of inspiration was nothing new to you either. 

“Well, glad to see you’re so keen on it,” you chuckled. “But I have a request. Actually, it’s more like something I have to say to you before we embark on this. It’s crucial, really.”

“Oh? Do tell.” He wasn’t rich, but he had the ability to procure a wide variety of items. The Nation of Wisdom was more corrupt than one would think. But he did wonder what you would ever want. You didn’t chase after material goods like the majority of humans.

“To be frank, I like you,” you declared, looking right into his eyes. At that moment, it felt like the world had gone silent. The wind stopped blowing, the animals lied low, the grass no longer rustled. “I like you. I want to be more than just friends with you,” you stated bluntly. You felt that getting straight to the point was the best course of action with Zandik, since many things besides his research and manipulating people tended to go over his head.

“So, what do you say?”

There was no response. You attempted to build your case.

“By the way, did you think I’d go through all this trouble if I didn’t want to be with you? I didn’t dorm with you for no reason, you know.”

“...”

“For such a smart guy, you aren’t very good at this, are you? Well, I can’t be too mad. I’ve been dealing with the denseness for a few years now. You know, I’ve been making the first moves this whole time.”

“...” 

The lack of response was beginning to make you nervous. You preferred the maniacal laughter of rejection at this point. “H-hey, I’d like a reply, you know. You don’t need to accept-”

Zandik thought. And he found that the words he spoke next were genuine.

“I find you… agreeable as well.”

You couldn’t help but throw your head back and laugh, shoulders now relaxed. “Why, such an amazing compliment from the high and mighty Zandik has me even more lovestruck!” He wanted to be mad, he really did, but it was at this moment he understood what it meant to be mesmerized by another person. He had found himself mesmerized by ancient machines, ruins, texts, his research. But he truly found you beautiful, your giggles echoing through the night.

“I’m agreeable, yes?” You turned to face him, your body leaning in closer to his. “Am I agreeable enough to do… this?” You tentatively glided your fingers over his hand, gauging to see how far Zandik would let you go. He stiffened at the foreign contact, clearly unused to it, but let you continue.

“What about this?” You slid your hand up and down his arm, keeping your eyes on his face the whole time. He tried not to show any emotions, besides a half-hearted scowl, but you could still see the red tips of his ears. He was so cute.

You scooted closer to him and let your other hand rest on Zandik’s thigh. “I think I’m much more than agreeable in your books,” you teased, cupping his cheek. He scoffed in response but did nothing to refuse your advancement. You leaned in and connected your lips with your lover’s. It felt damn good. Zandik had no idea what he was doing, but it was endearing nonetheless. You kissed him again, and again, and he reciprocated, albeit a little awkwardly. Your heart soared as you pulled away, and placed a few final kisses on his cheeks.

“Now, how did that feel?” You already knew the answer to that, of course. You knew Zandik for a long time, and could tell when he was in a shitty mood, a bad mood, a grumpy one, an excited one, a happy one, and much more. This mood was one you haven’t seen until now, but it sure was a good one. Completely flustered was a great look on him.

“I… I cannot come to a definitive answer as of now. I would say that I need to carry out some more experiments to reach a conclusion.”

“Oh? Then I’m a willing participant for however long as you want,” you smiled, finding comfort in his soft, teal locks. 

And that’s when Zandik truly realized. You were more tolerable than the rest. You were bearable enough to want to keep you around forever. Smart enough for him to desire to hear your honeyed voice. Soft enough to want to feel your skin against his. Ah, he would never say it though, as he brushed his lips over yours once again.

Zandik loved you.

[oracle-of-dream]

(switch ceo!jay request!) (sub/bttm leaning) ceo!jay who was being escorted out of an event after drunk man jumped on stage while giving his speech, almost successfully attacking jay if not for the reader stopping him in time. heading home, jay felt tired and took a shower, after getting out he sees the reader on the couch and decides to sit beside him, while doing so he finds a bruise on his forearm, feeling guilty he offers to nurse it himself, the readwr refuses but after a bit of back and forth he managed to get the reader to sit sitll while he gets an icepack. and while they're sitting there, they just casually have a conversation, making intense eye contact, the readers staring at jay's lips which he notices. one thing leads to another, and suddenly they're making out.

u can decide how the smut part will go 😭 i'm not very good at it, but ik and can trust in ur abilities! pls take ur time, have a wonderful day and i hope ur not feeling pressured w all the requests coming in! :]

CEO's Bodyguard

Summary: It's your job to keep Jay safe. It's another large-scale meeting with many guests–more like potential hazards. Keep him safe, and bring him home. That's all you're concerned about.

Warnings: Male Reader, CEO!Jay, Bodyguard!Reader, Slight Violence, Blowjob (Jay Rec.), Cum swallowing, Forced Deepthroat, Begging, Control Switching/Power dynamics, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Breeding

Wordcount: 3.59k

"Welcome, and thank you all for coming," Jay said. The room gave applause to receive him. He raised his hand to silence the room. Jay led into his speech, which he'd practiced multiple times while you drove him from place to place. You'd heard it what felt like a hundred times. Your knees and back ached from standing for so long. It was necessary for Jay's safety, you're number one priority. Most of your duties were more like being Jay's secretary, even as his bodyguard he always gave you tasks to take it easy on you.

You've worked for Jay over the last year and a half. Jay's father became unable to lead his company anymore, forcing Jay to take over. As a young CEO, more than a few people were willing to try and take advantage of him. Jay's nature, or his hate for people attempting to manipulate him, has made him enemies who would rather see him removed from power. Jay started hiring bodyguards a while ago but ended up firing each after a few weeks. The interview process was invasive and dismissive; a one-on-one meeting with Jay. Alone. He probed you with strange and meticulous questions; ranging from your family and friends to your finances. Jay always seemed to know more about everything than everyone else. He was extremely well-informed and investigated you for your interview. But the last question was the one that stuck out to you.

"Finally, y/n. This is your last question. If our lives get entangled, closer than originally anticipated, would you still be able to do your job?" Jay asked.

You tilted your head. "Entangled how?"

"...If you were to, seek a deeper relationship with me."

You straightened up rigidly. "O-Oh! I'd never dream of it, sir! I must protect you."

"But, if it were to happen, will it impede your work."

"Never! I'd protect you, in whatever situation!" You were a little desperate for a job, and more than willing to say whatever you needed to. You didn't think twice about it when you said it, but afterward, you couldn't stop thinking about the response you'd given. Or, why would he ask a question like that?

You were so lost in thought, you didn't realize someone was approaching the stage! A man, clearly drunk, stumbled as he made his way up the stairs behind the stage. Jay was so focused on his speech that he wasn't aware, not that it was his responsibility to be... There was no time to rush backstage and run after the man, you'd have to approach from the front!

You rushed the stage. Jay's eyes snapped to you, he maintained his cool but you could sense his concern. You jumped on stage, rolling cleanly, and you stood between Jay and the man.

"You don't deserve that spot!" He shouted as he swung at Jay.

You blocked the man's swing. He grabbed your other arm and twisted it, making you grit your teeth as you connected a blow to the man's head and his head slammed into your chin. The man fell to the ground and you caught him. You kept the man from hitting his head and dragged him away. Jay cracked a joke about the man having too much to drink and carried on with his speech, this time with you standing at a distance behind him on stage. As he concluded his speech, you directed him offstage.

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the unconscious man. "What was that about?"

"Just someone who had a bit too much to drink. Let's get home, for now, sir. You've got an early morning tomorrow."

Jay sighed. "Of course I do..." You guided him to the exit, and your employer said their goodbyes to his business partners. He was always so good at keeping a smile, even when he was more than a bit exhausted. You'd seen him run on no sleep for almost two days, having back-to-back meetings all day, and still kept his face up. The night sky was empty, the stars hidden behind the skyscrapers. Jay looked up at the sky, searching, as you had a valet bring the car forward.

Jay spoke without looking back to the ground. "Do you ever think about what it would be like to see a star up close, y/n?"

"I don't think I have, sir."

"I think... It would be the most beautiful thing ever." You didn't know how to respond, especially when he got into moods like this. It didn't happen often in front of you, but maybe it was a sign that he was getting comfortable around you. Sometimes he'd ask you philosophical questions throughout an entire car ride, most rhetorical as he knew you didn't know what to say.

The two of you stood in silence until the car arrived. Following protocol, you scanned the inside and outside for anything suspicious. Once you confirmed its safety, you opened the door for Jay and allowed him into the car. In the driver's seat, the car was programmed to navigate you back to Jay's penthouse. You drove without a word, but the pain in your jaw kept flaring every few minutes... That bastard might've bruised your jaw or even broken a tooth. Another thing to take care of now...

"You okay?"

Jay's voice snapped you out of the autopilot you were in. "Sorry, I wasn't listening. What did you need?"

"You keep touching your chin and rolling your jaw. Are you okay?"

You could see Jay staring at you in the mirror. "It's nothing to worry about. I think I just scratched myself earlier."

Jay's eyebrows furrowed but he turned and looked out the window. "I can't have my bodyguard getting banged up. If you're not able to take care of yourself, who will protect me?"

"If I remember correctly. When you hired me, you told me you didn't need me."

Jay scoffed. "Well, at the time I didn't. But things changed, and now I do. Is that an issue?"

"No, sir."

"That's what I thought." Jay crossed his arms. "If you've got an issue with our arrangement, then speak and we can have it amended." You chuckled softly. He was the cutest when getting protective over you, but also somehow defensive when you called him out on it.

The rest of the drive was quiet. Jay drifted off to sleep, softly snoring in the back seat. His soft caramel skin and slicked-back dark hair shined in the streetlights that passed. His cold expression melted away to reveal the man you knew. This was when he was the most authentic, silently sleeping. No cameras, phone calls, meetings, or clients, just Jay being alone with himself–and you, of course. Originally you thought it was weird to sleep in the same house as Jay, insisting that he'd be safe in his home alone but when he offered double your salary to move in you couldn't refuse.

As you pulled into the driveway, putting the car in park, Jay stirred from his sleep. He stretched and wiped the sleep from his eyes, acting like he'd been awake the whole time. "Jesus, that felt like forever, I'm glad to finally be back home."

You nodded as you opened his door from him. "Of course sir, I apologize about how long it took to get you back home safely."

He looked at you, reaching out but hesitating. "It's not your fault. It's just traffic." He yawned. "Let's just go." You tried to hold it in, but couldn't stop your body's reaction to also yawn. As your jaw stretched open and you breathed deeply, you winced softly as your jaw faltered in pain. Jay's eyes widened. "I knew you were just trying to be tough. He did end up hurting you..." His face moved to a pained expression as his eyes scrolled over you, looking for more injuries.

"Sir, it's nothing. Just some soreness."

He held up his hand, silencing you. "You'll let me take care of that. Now. I won't have you complaining about it tomorrow." When Jay was insistent there was no turning him around from what he wanted, even as you protested. He led you inside, upstairs to his bedroom. "Sit on the bed, I have medicine in my bathroom."

As he drifted off into the bathroom, you moved near the bed obediently but awkwardly sat next to it. You knew Jay was a clean person, he would be bothered if your dirty clothes messed up his sheets. Jay's bedroom was one of the biggest rooms in the house. It was painted a dark gray with a monochrome color scheme. all of the artwork he'd made was on his walls, matching the darkly colored motif of the room. Even though it was all so dark, there was so much emotion poured into it, you couldn't help but smile slightly.

After a few minutes, Jay emerged from the bathroom in different clothes with a first aid kit. He wore a large dress shirt and flowy pajama pants, and his hair was slightly damp from rinsing out the product in it. He sat on the bed. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"My clothes are dirty."

"Then I'll come down."

"The floor isn't clean. You'll get your pajamas dirty, you can apply the medicine up there. I'll sit tall." You sat on your knees, back straight, looking up at Jay as you waited for him to begin applying medicine.

He rolled his eyes as he opened the medicine box. He started applying medicine to your jaw with his left hand while his right gently held your face in place. "You really should be more careful." He experimentally dragged his finger along your jaw until he hit the spot, making you wince away from him. "I... care about you."

"That's very kind, sir."

Jay gritted his teeth. "Y/n. The rules."

"Sorry... Jay." It was a part of the house rules that while you lived there, at home specifically. You weren't allowed to call him sir or mister. You were required to refer to him as Jay.

"It's okay. And I'm glad you're doing your job, but it's not often I see you getting injured."

"I was just a little distracted today. It won't happen again."

He raised an eyebrow. "You, distracted? By what?"

You looked Jay in his eyes. "Your speech. It was really captivating. I couldn't stop listening."

Jay's mouth parted softly as he looked away, focusing on your jaw. "Well, I'm glad you liked it."

"You're really persuasive. And your speaking voice is always so clear, it's hard not to listen closely."

"Y/n..."

You continued. "Even the way you were styled today really brought you to the centerpiece of the whole event."

"Y/n. Stop talking. That's an order." Your mouth was filled with cement, unable to speak–even breathing was difficult. "You know I'm not very good with compliments..." Jay tucked his hair behind his ear. "It makes me shy."

You blinked slowly, watching Jay's careful expression.

Jay avoided your eyes, leaning in to look closer at your chin–leaving only a few inches between you. "Is there anywhere else it hurts?"

You shook your head.

"Honest?"

You nodded.

Jay scratched his ear. "I don't believe you... I just want to–" Jay hesitated at touching your collar. "C-Can I... unbutton your shirt a little? Just to see." You reply by sitting up taller, raising your chest out to Jay. His hands slightly shook as he undid the first few buttons at the top of your shirt, sliding your tie off too. He opened it, revealing your bare chest to him. His fingertips ghosted over your skin before pulling away. "Y/n, I think I'm close to making a decision that I don't know how to make. What should I do?"

"What decision, Jay?"

"I think I..." Jay hesitated biting his lip. "I think I want to be closer to you."

"Closer to me? Like how?"

Jay rolled his eyes as his cheeks turned a soft pink. "Jesus Christ, y/n! You really need me to spell it out!?" Jay took your hands and guided them to the buttons on his shirt. "Undo them," He commanded.

"Jay–"

"Please don't make me say it twice." You focused on unbuttoning Jay's shirt, as you slid it down past his shoulders and revealed his bare torso. His hips rolled up slightly, pointing out the hard cock that throbbed inside his pants. "You've got one chance to back out. If you don't want to go further, say it and we'll pretend like this never happened," Jay muttered as his eyes dropped to the floor.

"I'm so honored you'd consider me, sir. I don't think I'm worthy of you... But if you want to have me tonight, then I am more than willing."

Jay's eyes locked with yours before his gaze dropped to your lips. "Don't call me sir," He mumbled before leaning in for a kiss.

Jay's lips were plush pillows that bounced off your lips. He placed his hands on your shoulders, fingers tensing and gripping your skin as you deepened the kiss. Your hands threaded into Jay's hair, still slightly wet, which earned a moan from your boss. He pulled away from the kiss, wide-eyed and pink-faced.

"I-I didn't– That wasn't me!"

"Then who was it?" You chuckled.

"I don't know!" Jay hit your shoulder. "Just hurry up and do the next part." Jay laid on his back with his eyes closed.

"The next part?"

Jay lifted himself on his elbows. "Aren't you going to stick it in me?"

"You wanted me to fuck you?!"

"You're getting that now!?" Jay facepalmed. "I'm not very experienced with a man, so I don't know how to do this... So, help me please." His pupils dilated as he begged for you. Jay had never been so vulnerable with you before, and you couldn't lie that it was turning you on more than you thought it would. You'd imagined having sex with Jay but imagined him as more of a dominant top, or even a power bottom. but to see him so... submissive. It was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.

"Did you prepare yourself at all? I don't want to just 'stick it in' and hurt you."

Jay covered his face. "Yes... That's what I was doing in the bathroom."

He was so cute. "Oh, so you planned on seducing me tonight then?"

"Y/n, I swear, if you don't hurry up and fuck me. I'll fire you right now."

You smiled. "Oh? Jay, I thought the rules of the house were that we're equal here. Aren't we supposed to treat each other nicely?" He grunted. "Then how about some foreplay or something?"

"You can suck my dick with your foreplay," Jay spat. You smiled as you slipped his pants off in one motion, making your boss yelp as he covered himself. He was commando under his pants, and his cock was already leaking.

"I think I'll take you up on that offer." You smiled as you moved his hands from his crotch to your neck. His cock twitched in the air as you pulled Jay to a comfortable part of the edge of the bed, his legs hanging over the side. You slotted yourself in between his legs and kissed his tip. His knees twitched at your touch, brushing against your head. You kissed his tip a few more times, his pre-cum sticking to your lips.

"Hurry up already," He grunted. "In your mouth!" He pulled on your hair, pulling you down as you slowly took him into your mouth. "Ahh fuck, you're so warm!" His head fell back as he guided you to bob your head, pulling and pushing you as he liked. "Your mouth–it's warm! So wet, and tight too!" When his tip hit the back of your throat, you tensed as you felt the urge to gag which made your throat clamp down onto Jay's shape. "Oh fuck! That! Again, do that," Jay moaned as he forced your head down, forcing you to gag and gurgle on his cock. "I'll–I'm gonna cum! Please, swallow!" He grunted. You leaned forward, ready, as he spilled his load into your mouth. "Take it, swallow, drink it all!" Jay's voice got raspy and desperate as his eyes rolled back from the explosion in his head.

"I didn't think you'd finish that fast..." You wiped the spit from your mouth.

"Well, you didn't have to suck it. And you asked for foreplay..."

"I'm not complaining. Just, remember, I plan on cumming tonight too." You smirked at him. "You had your fun, but now I'll be in charge, okay?" Jay frowned but you weren't asking. Before you could give him the chance to ask any questions, you flipped him onto his stomach and slipped a finger inside him.

"Oh~ you could've given me a warning!" Jay moaned as he ground against your finger.

"You didn't need a warning. And, don't you think you should be grateful? I'm stretching you a little extra, just in case."

Jay scoffed. "Why? I said I did it, didn't I?"

A crack rang out as you spanked him. "Jay, where did your manners go?" Jay's jaw hung open, still reeling from being spanked. He'd never been spanked before, but his cock twitched from the pain.

"Again."

"Again, what?"

Jay groaned into the sheet. "Spank me again, please."

"What a nice boy," You cooed as you spanked him again, harder than before. "You're a good boy, aren't you? You just forgot your manners a bit." You spanked him again. "Beg for it."

Jay turned to look at you. "Are you loving this? Hitting and bossing me around? I'm not begging for shit." His hair was a mess, his skin glistened with sweat, and his ass was turning red.

"Jay~ don't misbehave. I'll have to punish you a bit." You reached forward and pulled Jay's hair, making him wince.

"W-Wait!"

"Manners."

"P-Please. Don't pull on it..." Jay begged softly.

You released his hair, kissing his neck as an apology. "Much better. Now, can you beg for cock? I want to hear you say it."

Jay remained silent. You gave him another smack for encouragement. "Fine! Y/n, please fuck me with your big cock!" You said nothing and rubbed Jay's ass softly. You didn't think he'd say it... "Oh fuck you! You wanted me to say it."

"Language," You warned. "If you wanted my cock so badly, that's all you needed to say." You pushed your tip into Jay's waiting hole.

"Oh, holy fuck, you're huge. It's so much..."

"Jay. That's just my tip."

Jay arched his back, waiting for you. "I know that! Your tip is just big!"

You pushed until you hilted Jay, burying your cock completely inside him. "You're squeezing like crazy, Jay."

Jay was a moaning mess under you. Even as he twitched around you, he made himself moan. "Oh, my–fuck me!" He shouted as you slid out before slamming back into him. Over and over, you pounded into him.

"Don't make me do all the work, Jay," You grunted as you pushed him forward. He held his breath as he moved himself on your cock, fucking himself into the mattress. "Can you try harder?" You pushed down on his back, making him hit that spot, making him scream louder. As soon as you found his spot, you took back cover as you fucked into it. "Wanna cum, Jay?" Jay let out a series of moans and groans, forming a semi-approving answer. "Ask for it then," You smirked as you pulled out completely, letting your cock rest on his ass.

"Y-Y/n! You can't–Please! Please! Let me cum on it, I'll cum from your cock so much. I'll even let you finish in me, just let me cum!"

"You said it, so I'll take that. Go ahead and cum then." You slammed back into Jay completely as his hole welcomed your cock with a tight squeeze. Jay's moans went high-pitched as his back arched more and his eyes rolled. He was drooling on the sheet as he came all over the edge of the bed. You didn't take much more after him, this orgasm squeezing you for everything. "I'm gonna cum in you. I'll fucking breed you into being my husband!" Your hips stuttered as your climax washed over you, your cum spilling into Jay as he moaned again. "Every drop, keep squeezing it," You ordered.

When you both came down from your highs, you took Jay into his bathroom and started a warm bath for him. Jay occasionally twitched from the sensation of you helping him wash the cum out of him, he was too embarrassed to ask you to do it but you could tell he didn't know what to do.

Your boss stroked your jaw. "How's it doing?"

"It's a little sore from sucking cock but–" Jay punched you. "It's much better. Thank you, Jay."

Jay rolled his eyes. "If I'm going to be your husband, you're going to need to call me something else."

Your mind rolled back to what you'd said earlier in the heat of the moment. "Jay, I didn't mean it like that–"

"You think you can just hit it and leave? You're stuck with me. And I'm not letting you go. So, your husband is demanding that you call him that." Jay held his head high as his eyes gleamed.

"Okay... Husband." You chuckled as you kissed his forehead.

[transformation4life]

At Masters Side

Mark wasn't one for superstition, but ever since a few weeks ago everything has felt like its changed. When you live in a random town you expect not much else to happen except... that's now how it's been. Over the past weeks, people have gone missing. No trace of their existence anywhere. It's caused quite a stir in town. Conveniently... right when these disappearances started going rampant a strange antique store opened up in the town square. People were quick to assume it was the store's doing but no traces of any victims were found in the establishment so the police had no grounds to do anything and the shop stayed open. And that's where we find Mark, currently outside the store. Hoping for a lead. He may not be in any police force let alone a detective but his best friend Kody was one of the missing victims and he wanted answers. "Here goes nothing..." The sounds of a bell rang as Mark entered. Looking around, he was the only one in the store at the moment. Looking further down he sees an old man brushing the floor with a broom. That must be the owner, Mark thought. The owner looked up from the floor and made eye contact with Mark. Mark waved and then walked off. The owner made no attempt to make contact. The store was a lot bigger than it looked from the outside. Shelves lined the store and it was very easy to get lost. Mark looked around for any clues or even a little bit of a suspicious and found nothing. Very demotivating, but he needs to do this for Kody! As Mark walked over to the next aisle he bumped into a box on the floor and it tipped over with something falling out of a box. Mark not wanting to be mean picked it up.

It was... a mask with a strange symbol on it. And a crack?

The eye felt like it was piercing into Mark's soul and he got chills almost immediately. "You know... a mask like that one got sold just a couple weeks ago" The owner suddenly appeared behind Mark. "Gah! D-Don't scare me like that sir... please..." Mark said.

"Ah sorry... I tend to do that sometimes. My apologies."

"I-It's okay... But anyway. You said a similar mask was bought recently" The owner nods.

"I think the guy who bought it looked like someone your age... They had blond hair and brown eyes..."

The description hit Mark like a truck. That was Kody's hair and eye color! A clue!

"R-Really? I see..." "Yeah... you know how it is. I'll leave you alone now. I'll be at the cash register if you need me..." The owner slowly walks away leaving Mark alone with him and the mask. Mark looked back at the mask. The piercing gaze still there. It almost felt like... it was telling Mark something. "Wear me...." Mark looked around. Who said that?

"Don the mask... You will find who you seek..." This time it was very clear. A sudden urge to wear the mask overcame Mark with a unstoppable force. He couldn't fight it.

"I'll find who I'll seek... we'll see." Mark put the mask on and with that his fate was sealed. The eye on the mask started to glow a bright red as Mark got a massive headache causing him to clench his head in pain. Red fabric appeared from thin air and covered Mark's head and neck. Somehow Mark could still breathe and even see. The real changes were about to begin however.

Mark's body started sweating like crazy. Like years of workouts and training from... somewhere were being done in a flash. This did cause a physical change in Mark however. Mark's thin frame began widening as it packed on muscle. Mark's flat chest becoming much thick with wide and beefy pecs alongside an impressive set of abs. Mark's arms grew in massive size becoming like thick trunks of a tree as his hands grew with them becoming strong and calloused. The once small back Mark had widened like a long treasure map. Thick meaty legs were becoming evident on Mark's frame as he had massive thighs and musculature and a new bigger foot size. Mark's rear also gained some extra bounce and size to them. The final physical transformation was Mark's height skyrocketing to at least 10 feet tall. And now came the new clothes. fabric in various shades of red and black wrapped itself around Mark. It was skin tight meaning all of Mark's new muscles were very visible. A black harness fell from above and fitted itself around Mark's chest. Two eye shaped pauldrons popped onto Mark's shoulders. A belt adorned with the same eye shapes as the pauldrons wrapped itself around Mark's wide waist. Dark red arm and leg guards appeared on Mark's arms and legs, small blades emanating from them. A red and yellow collar prompted up, circling Mark's thick neck. The final change was an exotic headpiece. Two "hairs" splitting out tied together with a white band. The physical transformation was complete.

Mark's headache ended and he became aware of his surroundings again, immediately realizing how much taller he'd become. "What the fuck- oh! M-My voice it's so much more... deeper." Mark then looked below him, realizing his new form. "How did that mask... do this? I have to take this off!" But alas Mark couldn't remove the mask. "God fucking damnit... I can't go out in public like this... What am I supposed to... " This was when Mark realized how big his muscles were. Mark always loved big muscles and even though the transformation was not something he wanted, the muscles were very appreciated. Mark flexed a bit to no one in particular. God he felt amazing when he thought about it. He could get used to this Mark thought, but he had to leave this place without arousing any suspicion. He walked just a bit before knocking something over. It was some sort of device similar to a tablet. "Shit, he's gonna notice me... wait what's going on-" Mark was enveloped in a blue light and whisked away to a place unknown.

An unknown amount of time passed before Mark woke up from unconsciousness. He looked around his sorroundings. This place was not anything he's even seen before! The statues had eyes similar to the mask that caused all this so he knew they were correlated.

"Sooga? Is that you?" A voice rang out. Sooga? Someone starting dashing and waddling towards Mark. The man worse similar garb to the current Mark and also a very strong and prominent gut.

"Who are you? Where am I?" Mark immediately retorted. "Come on buddy, don't play dumb with me! I've been lookin' everywhere for ya!"

"No offense sir, but I don't remember a thing. I was at this store and I turned into... this."

"Huh... really? Strange... I had a dream where something similar happened to me! We're dream buddies now Sooga!" "My name isn't Sooga! It's.... uh..." Mark completely blanked on his name. He should know this right! He was just in that store with that weird old man and he... ugh... who was he?

"Oh I see, having one of those sets of deja vu eh? Don't worry I went through something similar recently too. My soldiers helped me remember real quick." Something similar... Wait is that..? "Let me get you up to speed. You're the loyal right hand man of me, Master Kohga and your name is Sooga! Master of the blades which you don't have on you for some reason and a real beefcake!" Kohga's words flickered something in Mark. What Kohga- no... what his master said was true. How could he forget. How could he forget the day he was saved by him with a mighty banana. The years of rigorous training he had gone through and taught to become what he is today. The conviction of being Master Kohga's right hand man was strong. "Master Kohga! My apologies for ever forgetting about you and the clan." Sooga immediately kneeled. "Now now Sooga it's okay. I can tell you still are loyal to me! Let's get some bananas and plan our next move! Kohga turned around, on his way to the precious banana Yiga Clan hoard. Sooga was not far behind, after all he was always at his master's side.

[ghostieyanyan]

~Yandere Regrets~

Yan!Ruggie x mc

Yan!Silver x mc

Yan!Cater x mc

Yan!Vil x mc

i thought of this a while ago so hehe.. what does a yandere regret? where's the line for yanderes? hurting their darling? punishment? threats??

Warnings: death, hinted of child birth (its still gender neutral but if you feel uncomfortable with it, you can just say its yandere delusions ^^), sleep spell, manipulation, self-loathing, death threats, hate mail(?), mind break, kinda creeping

~~~~~

Ruggie

you were supposed to be fine.. this wasn't how it suppose to be... you and him were supposed to grow old and die together. but no. Life always had to spit in his face.

He was stupid.. you were so different from him and he didn't even think about what your body was strong or weak against. the cold in the slums was easy for him to handle, duh, he grew up there... but you were different...

he should have given you vaccines or something to protect you from the slums sicknesses. he should have slowly eased you into the slums with his family... to build up your immune system.

he couldn't get mad at anyone... only himself..

Ruggie wanted you to be part of his life so badly, he took you to the slums in the dead of night and never looked bad at NRC.

Crowley found the way to your world and you just had a week to say your goodbyes... he didn't want you to leave! he didn't want to say goodbye!

the timing was awful... if it was around the end of the year, he could have graduated and then he'll get a good job to support his family, you, and the family he'd like to make with you..

but he was impassion and scared he'll lose you forever.. and he ultimately lost you in the most cruelest ways.

in the slums, everyone knows that you have to be very careful to not get sick. cuts are even worst. sickness means you need medicine, medicine cost money, which they don't have...

it was supposed to just be a common cold...

it was winter time, the snow was starting to fall and covered the slums in a thin layer of snow. it'll likely go away in the morning but it was still cold out. even in sunset savanna.

Most of the kids stayed inside because of the cold. some, who can handle the cold, were playing outside.

Ruggie was with his grandma making you soup. you had a pretty nasty cough and they insisted on something warm in you system would help.

how did his grandma take him bringing you home..? he promised her some great grandkids and she was down for it.. and to say she scared you more than ruggie's threats on if you were to ran away was an understatement. she was living proof on how scary female hyenas could be..

you were supposed to be fine.. the soup was supposed to make you feel better.. he always got better after the soup. but you were different, unique, one of a kind... that's why he fell in love with you..

he knew you didn't love him. he wasn't a good man. he took you away from your home, not just from the mirror, but NRC. he knew you loved being a part of NRC. helping out, even when Crowley forced you, you still enjoyed it...

he thought you could learn to love him and you two would work hard to provide for your family in the slums... and one day work hard enough to better the slums, or everyone.

instead... you died that winter.. because of that stupid cough. and he's now alone... the one thing he didn't want...

he had to say goodbye..

~~~~~

Silver

When silver was a kid, his father would tell him all the stories he knows, which were a lot. his favorites, as a kid, were the stories where the prince or knight characters protects their home and loved ones.

he told his father that when he grows up, he wants to be strong enough to protect everyone he loves. his father told him at he should train and eat a lot to grow strong and maybe he'll find his "royal stuck in their tower~" or "royal stuck in a death like sleep~"

Silver felt that his father always had his head in the clouds for these, "cheesy" scenarios. he personal didn't mind it though. he, himself, didn't know if he'll find his other half but he's not the type that will roll around in his sleep about it...

he thought..

when silver first heard about you, it came from the news of "a newcomer with no magic and a wild monster came to the school ceremony and caused mayhem." but how Lilia described it was "an excited turn of events." silver didn't mind it too much.

he only hear more about you when malleus was telling him, sebek, and Lilia about the child of man staying in the abandoned dorm and how you invited him to this event, not knowing who he is. with how malleus spoke so highly of you, made him curious of this perfect.

he also over heard how you always finding yourself into a bunch of overblot situations. he hasn't even met you and you already sound amazing. kinda like the princes or knights of those old stories...

to say he was charmed by the mysteriousness of you was an understatement. he wanted to go out and just meet you to understand you better but he was always busy. school, clubs, protect malleus, naps, theres a lot on his plate but what can you do.

when he finally met you, from school events or school trips, each time you were with him it felt so warm and comforting. you were so calm and gentle with him, not like he need that but it was a nice feeling. whenever he fell asleep, he'll either wake up to you stering him or with his head resting in your lap. he never want this feeling to end. Silver wants to keep waking up besides you, for the rest of his life.

when he told Lilia about it, how he should confess to you and all. Lilia told him that he over heard you and your first year friends talking about making a break through about you going home, so this confess better be big...

he grew silent, which is normal for him but this was a different silent and lilia could tell..

"how about you show them how much you love them? that your love has no bounds. from twisted wonderland to other realms out there~"

even with lilia cheesy rometic preaching, he had a point. but how..? he wants to show you that you were important to him and that he'll protect you. he'll be your prince to... wake you...

silver stopped by your dorm late, you were just about to go to bed but he asked for time and how it was really important. you agreed and you both decided to talk outside. he started to tell you about his childhood and his love your fairy tale stories his father use to tell him. he told you how he loved you and wanted to show you that both of you were meant to be. he held your hand and pulled out a needle from his pocket.

you started to get scared and tried to pull away but it was untimely useless. silver just over powered you so easily. with one prike from the needle, you stared to feel dizzy and felt like your head ached. you fell into silver's chest which is arms snaked around you.

"it'll be okay.. ill wake you up.. and you'll understand that we were meant to be~"

he picked you up and gave you a sweet soft kiss on your lips.

he waited... and waited... and gave you a kiss again... and waited..

you didnt open your eyes.

~~~~~

Cater

Cater hated being with his family... his dad wasn't there when he needed him, his sisters treated him like an object or play thing, and his mom enables his sisters... if his friends invites him to any family related events, he'll take it in a heartbeat just to be away from his family. he'd rather die than admit that his sisters didn't have an influence on his behavior as a kid and even now that he's older.

when he first saw you, he thought you were the cutest thing in all of twisted wonderland. Cute little perfect, lost in an unknown world and at the mercy of everyone here. like a little animal that lost their way and that doesn't know better, but he'll help this cute lost animal.

it definitely helped his case, with how much ace and deuce brings you around. plus they often leave you to your lonesome because they cause some trouble and drag grim along too. what his luck~

At first he didn't mind sharing you with Trey, you all often spent time together watching trey bake and talking about any drama or rumors from school, trey didn't really mind the drama but he enjoyed the company.

the more Cater spent time with you, the more he fell for you. and when you come to him for anything, his heart skips a beat. you're just too precious in his eyes.

You both made it a thing that he'll come to you to online shop, mainly browsing because you couldn't effort anything. but every time you pointed something you liked, he always had something to say about it.

"i don't know about that... i think this one will match you better~! you'll look so cute in it~"

you didn't really mind, it wasn't like you took it personal... you shouldn't.. right?

sometimes Cater will stop by the Ramshackle dorm and bring you a "goodie bag." it was either the stuff he said you would look good in or some other cute stuff. pins, hair clips, hair ties, accessories, plushies, etc. some of the things weren't in your wheel house of interests but telling Cater you didn't like them when he looks so happy didn't feel right...

so you just allowed him to do whatever he liked.. it wasn't hurting anyone right..?

it wasn't-... it didn't hurt anymore. his teases that felt like hard jabs into your looks and insecurities, didn't hurt as badly anymore. without you realizing it, Cater was the one to dress you up and tell you what to do, eat, and how to think. you thought about it, why didn't you say anything..? well.. cater will be upset. every time you tell him you had a problem with how he treats you, he gets really sad and you just didn't like it one bit... it was too much to keep fighting it.. you were tired... you were drained..

cater and his "helpful inputs" just made you feel insecure of yourself. maybe you really need cater's help. you don't want to be a sore thumb to the people you care for, right?

"hey, what do you think about this? pref-?"

cater looked at you and he froze... he knows that look in your eyes. the pain.. the hurt.. the empty look.. the helplessness..

he's being the monster of his sisters.. to you...

~~~~~

Vil

Vil is a highly respected figure in twisted wonderland. his looks and his voice, his mere presences is a blessing for some people (his fans-). he has to be perfect, he only expects himself to be perfect. with the people around him, he tries his best to not being so strict about them being perfect but as long as they work for that goal, he cant complain too much.

when he met you, he cant say much or you might get crunched under all his critiques. but he admires how hard working you are, whether you like to be or not. to say vil enjoyed your clumsy potato charm was an understatement. the more he watched you, the more he was charmed~

he tired not to be too harsh on you, you are doing your best with the hand you have been delt, but still do you always have to slouch like that?

Whenever you see Vil, he always gives you "advice" whether if they are convention advice, with vil statures and position, you couldn't really say no...

without you realizing it, you find vil appearing more into your life. when you pass your classes, when your getting any paper work for Crowley, even when you are heading back to your dorm..! Vil requested Rook to get your weekly scheule...

at this rate, you'll see vil more than your friends, the only time you see your friends were in class and lunch.

you confronted vil, asking him if something was wrong.

oh boy~ he loves how you could stand up to him~

likely for him, being a great actor comes into his favor when he has to convince you that he's not creeping on you.

"i just like to check up on you. even if your aren't part of the main dorms. i cant let you make a joke out of NRC just because you are magicless"

he lend into you, reaching his hands to your face-!!

"your uniform is also messed up, potato. do i have to do everything for you!"

"o-oh..."

he starts to fix up your uniform and takes his leave. leaving you to process what happened..?

meanwhile someone with a certain hat took a picture and shared it on magicam. news broke out and rumors like "Vil isn't single anymore?!?!" and "who is this mysterious person?!" broke out like wild fire. you only hear about it from Cater who was upset that you didn't say you were in a relationship, much less, to vil!

but with rumors and a big following of vil's fans, comes lots of hate. you don't even have Magicam but you hear all the hate from your friends, classmates, and even classmates that weren't in your class or grade!! they were all getting concerned..

you're address got leaked and you were sent hate mail and death threats everyday! one person even sent pictures of you when you were out on a school event. it wasn't safe for you anymore. this took such a mental tole on you that Crowley had to asked a favor from Ambrose LXIII and have you transfer to RSA...

you didn't want to leave.. but you didn't have a chose anymore..

~

the picture was suppose to lead you to him... you were suppose to run to him, crying in his arms to protect you. Vil was suppose to be your knight in shining armor...

~~~~~