#I’m not sure if I made it now it would be too much different LMAO

[skelecentral]

Bad Sansuary day 23 (hosted by @owl-bones!): formal

I remembered this unfinished painting from a while ago and spruced it up enough to post - it’s very veeerrry inspired by Persephone in the garden by Aidoneus which you should Absolutely Listen To because it’s So Good:

Anyways fancymare ftw

[kazumist]

WHY DON'T WE FALL IN LOVE TONIGHT ?

✩ — in which you found yourself executing a ruse with the known duke of meropide, wriothesley. what could possibly go wrong? (many things, apparently.)

✩ — prompt: panache — you agree to a fake courtship with another. (for @xianyoon's "a night to remember" event (event two hehehe))

✩ — includes: wriothesley x f!reader. royalty!au. fluff, angst if you squint, hurt/comfort if you also squint, comedy squeezed in just a teensy bit. cw: alcohol consumption (reader ends up taking a shot or two) one crazy scene in the garden but it's nothing too explicit i swear they just get a little carried away OOPS. wc: 8001 yes you read that fucking right (i went insane). fake dating trope went a bit overboard my bad (heavily based by bridgerton season 1 minus the explicit scenes LMAO). one pride and prejudice and meme reference line sneaked in (if u get my reference then ilysm i need to kiss u). other fontaine characters make a cameo yipee!! full fic of this silly post i made back then but i changed things up. kinda

✩ — please reblog !! it wld help me tons :,)

love at first sight was a frivolous belief for a man like wriothesley.

romance, in general, was a frivolous belief for him in the first place. as much as his father pushes him into the marriage market for all of the women in the kingdom of fontaine, he would always find his way out of it. but he does admit—the nagging could get quite... overbearing sometimes. romance almost never crosses wriothesley’s mind. he shuns every vigorous mother that presents their daughter towards him in hopes that he’ll take an interest in them (which he never does; wriothesley believes that marriage is too big of a responsibility for him).

a ball is never uncommon in society at this age. and certainly it isn’t uncommon for his father to urge him to grace these balls with his presence on behalf of his former duke of a father. and tonight wasn’t so different from the other balls he previously attended. wriothesley holds back the urge to roll his eyes after he excuses himself (for the nth time, he thinks) from another mother who tried to offer her daughter up for his hand in marriage. it was exhausting, to say the least. wriothesley wants nothing more than to leave at the moment. however, to his dismay, the ball had just begun not too long ago.

it’s another long night for him.

sharing some conversations with queen furina’s royal advisor, neuvillette, wasn’t a bad way to pass the time. and it certainly was effective because people were far too nervous to approach him with the queen nearby. the friendship he shared with the royal advisor wasn’t new knowledge to society. almost everyone and their mothers had heard about the tale of the current duke meropide and the queen’s royal advisor being close friends during their early days of childhood and onwards. though wriothesley sometimes admits—he surely misses his youthful days.

it’s not like he's that old now. he’s currently thriving at the young age of twenty-five! not too young, not too old either. “and just how long are you going to stand by my side tonight, wriothesley?” neuvillette asks, his eyes focused on the crowd below him. there were pairs dancing gracefully in the middle of the venue as the quintet orchestra played by the side. wriothesley doesn’t glance at him as he answers. “just a bit longer, i suppose. i could still feel their eyes boring holes into me.” he mumbles the last part, leaning closer only for neuvillette to hear, as he refers to the mothers that attempted to make their advances on him earlier. neuvillette simply chuckles at his remark.

“still refusing marriage, i see?” he replies. 

“i’m confident that you’re well aware of what my answer to that is going to be, neuvillette.”

wriothesley feels comfortable like this. but he’s aware that he couldn’t spend all of his time by his friend’s side. soon after, wriothesley decides to take his leave after making sure his coast is clear. he then exited nearby and found himself wandering into the garden. surely, the workers at the house of hearth had done a splendid job maintaining this garden. he reminds himself to commend duke arlecchino for this if he ever gets the chance.

the wind tonight was quite cold, yet it’s nothing wriothesley couldn’t handle. he stumbles upon what seemed to be the center of the garden, surprised to see a fountain there. the moonlight shines brightly in this area—but what actually made wriothesley curious was who was sitting by the fountain? he steadily approaches, careful not to make the wrong move and sits by the fountain as well. there was still some distance between the two of you—a lot of it. it would be indecent of him to burst into a woman’s personal space. his father did not raise him to be that sort of man.

“what brings you here tonight?” he suddenly finds himself asking. it was a poor attempt at small talk, he thinks (he could do much better than that, he swears). wriothesley doesn’t even dare steal a glance at you, as much as he wanted to. you hesitated before answering him, still sinking in the fact that you suddenly have company in this garden now. “avoiding society as usual, especially the members of society who cannot give up offering their hand of marriage towards me, i suppose,” he hears you sigh. huh, how ironic. did wriothesley just bump into someone who suffers from the same problem as him? 

the answer was most definitely yes.

“oh, what a coincidence—i suffer from such a predicament as well.” he chuckles bitterly in reply—too bitter for his liking. he didn’t want to suddenly ruin the mood now; the conversation had barely even started. “is that so? i’m delighted to know that i’m not alone in this boat then.” the tone of your chuckle was different from the chuckle you got from wriothesley. a comfortable silence was then enveloped over the both of you, enjoying the scenery around. he takes this as his chance to steal a glance, and he quickly takes it back. yet he finds himself glancing again.

and again

and again. 

he doesn’t quite understand it himself. however, there was something about you that had this alluring effect on him of some sort. he just couldn’t tear his eyes off of you for some reason. “enjoying the view much, duke?” you asked, meeting his gaze. wriothesley then turns away suddenly, embarrassed that he was caught red handed in the act of practically ogling at you. his father did not raise him to be like this at all. he did not spend his childhood and teenage years training how to be a proper gentleman for his debut in society just to be ogling at a lady he just met at a ball. he needs to snap out of it.

“my apologies, but how could i resist putting my attention on a stunning lady like you?” he tries to play it cool. (keyword: tries.) it was a strategy that he learned to adapt every since he made his debut into society. playing it cool always works for him—surely his old trick wouldn’t fail at him now of all times, right? but wriothesley soon snapped out of his thoughts, and he then asked another question. “wait, you know who i am?” 

you were taken aback by his words. is he seriously asking you that? “who wouldn’t know you? you’re quite famous with the other ladies.” you asked him back. he simply replies with a short “fair point.” and silence takes over once again. but this time, it was a bit awkward. you decided to introduce yourself to him, stating your name and title. he nods in acknowledgement of your introduction. he has heard of you before, of course. your family has quite a reputation in society, making you get quite a bit of attention at formal parties as well. 

wriothesley doesn’t dare steal a glance at you again, as he has seemed to learn his lesson from what happened earlier. you, on the other hand, took this as your chance to take your leave. “although your company has been quite interesting, duke meropide, i’m afraid that i must take my leave first. i seem to have forgotten that i excused myself from lord jackson earlier.” you got up from your seat, already walking away from the fountain—that is, until wriothesley speaks.

“lord jackson? you mean the lord jackson who’s known for his… awful history in relationships?”

“i don’t believe there’s any other lord jackson in this society, duke meropide.” you turn around to face him.

“what business do you have with him?” why am i even asking? he thinks.

“he’s simply another one of the men who my mother had decided to set me up with for marriage. i was told to accompany him for tonight but you see, his company isn’t really... the best.” you replied, choosing your word carefully. despite you not liking lord jackson at all, it would be informal for you to speak ill of him when he could be the man you’ll actually marry.

actually, scratch that. as if you’ll ever allow yourself to marry a man like him. lord jackson was a creep, to say the least. you were aware of the talk that goes around him. but your dear mother is still kept in the dark about these stories, and she decided to set you up with him without your prior knowledge. so by technicality, you really had no choice. “you can’t marry him.” the man in front of you suddenly says.

“i beg your pardon?” you asked, afraid that you misheard him the first time. “you... you can’t marry him.” he repeats and then he continues. “i mean, surely you have heard the news about him—his temper makes him vicious. your marriage with him wouldn’t prosper at all.” you held back the urge to scoff at him. “i appreciate your concern, my duke, but our society works in an unfair way at this age. i cannot just declare that i do not wish to marry, unlike you. that is a privilege that i cannot simply afford.” you shot back at him.

wriothesley suddenly feels like a light bulb in his head has switched on.

“we could pretend to form an attachment.” he then says. you were getting more baffled by the second this conversation held on longer. “whatever do you mean?” you weren’t stupid. but you refused to believe that what he’s hinting at is also the one you foolishly thought. “with you in my arm, people would think that i have finally found my duchess. as for you, your mother would raise her standards and find more suitable candidates for your hand in marriage. because although i could be wrong, but have you ever told your mother what traits you find in a man?” he replies, a small smile slowly tugging on his lips. he clearly enjoys this idea.

“i… i suppose not.” he got you there. “but this is an absurd idea.” you protested.

“i find it quite brilliant, if i do say so myself.”

“you do know the risks of what you’re proposing right now, am i correct?”

“i do. but you do not wish to marry me, and i do not wish to marry you, so whatever should you have to lose?” he’s insisting. he’s insisting like this plan would work perfectly fine for the both of your benefits (well, if you were to be completely honest, there is a chance for it to be successful. but you grew up to believe that you shouldn’t expect for things to go so smoothly in your life). “i…” a lost of words. that’s what you are. too many possibilities are running through your head at the moment.

however, the duke did have one hell of a good point.

“fine. you got yourself a deal.”

and that’s how you got roped into the situation you have now. with an arm interlocked with the duke meropide’s, all eyes were bound to set upon you both. wriothesley could see the amusement in neuvillette’s expression; the same goes for the hint of amusement in queen furina’s eyes as she spots them in the crowd. wriothesley slowly guides you towards the dance floor, just in time for another dance to begin. gracefully, you took his hand as you step onto the dance floor with him. a familiar song started to play, one that you remember memorizing as dance class was mandatory for being a debutante in society.

“are you bothered?” he then asks in a whisper as he twirls you around. “whatever for?” you ask him back. “the staring. i could feel all of them looking at us right now, honestly,” he chuckles lowly. “hm, i’m trying not to mind it that much. but i suppose you’re probably enjoying all of this attention now, aren’t you?” a simple tease on your part, and wriothesley smiled at that. “my, are we on casual terms now?” 

“chemistry should be a major factor that we should have in this plan, yes? so we might as well start by being more casual with one another.”

“indeed. glad to know that you’re quick to pick up on things.” he says. “of course i am. what do you take me for, duke meropide?” you asked him, a slight pout forming on your lips. and wriothesley smiled at that again before replying. “nothing offensive, that i can assure you.”

“i’m delighted to know that the ever-so-famous duke of meropide doesn’t harbor any sour feelings towards me then.” 

it was a bit suffocating, all of the staring. yet at the same time, you understood why they’re staring in the first place. wriothesley, the current duke of meropide, is suddenly on the dance floor with a young woman. and he seems to be quite interested in her as well. people would assume you’re the reason why the duke has rejected so many marriage offers up until now—because he already had you in the first place.

the other unwanted attention you’d get from that assumption alone was enough to make you distracted to the point where you almost stepped on wriothesley’s foot. “i—my apologies, duke.” you stammered. “it’s alright. just look at me,” he says. you scrunched your eyebrows at him in confusion. “pardon?”

“just look at me; don’t focus on anyone else. it will help ease your mind.”

with hesitance, you followed what he said and locked your eyes with his. the duke’s eyes were a fine shade of grey. a unique color, if you do say so yourself. and surely he was correct. shifting your focus and thoughts to him did ease you from all of the other eyes that are locked onto both of your figures that’s moving along with the music.

time felt like it had stopped, as it also felt like you were the only ones present in the room.

to wriothesley’s surprise, the night passed by faster when he was with you. because before he knew it, he was already accompanying you back to your carriage. a lot of things had happened in the span of just a few hours. but wriothesley does not regret a single second of it, now that he recalls everything again. he wonders why—was it because he encountered you in the garden tonight?

maybe. that’s where it all started anyway.

he quickly snapped out of his trail of thoughts as he heard you speak. “i suppose i’ll see you soon then?” you asked him. “mhm, i suppose so. safe travels, m’lady.” he bids you his farewell by gently grabbing ahold of your hand and pressing a soft kiss onto your knuckle, refusing to break his eye contact with you as the footman closed your carriage’s door.

“safe travels as well, my duke.”

— — — — — — — — 

word spread fast about you and the duke of meropide. your mother was shocked at the news—yet happy that you finally became “independent on finding your match” as per her words. you had no specific agenda for the day, so, as you usually do whenever you are free, you decided to visit the modiste—where your good friend chiori resides. 

the sound of the bell chiming as the door opened made chiori perk up to see who would possibly need help making a new dress. but when her eyes met yours, she just knew you weren’t here to ask for a new dress. “i heard about the commotion last night.” she says, setting down a cup of tea for you as she takes a sip from her own cup, waiting for your response. “commotion is a vulgar term for it, chiori. i prefer to call it a memorable event.”

“i suppose it’s memorable for you to enter with your arm wrapped around the duke meropide just like that. how did it even happen? i vividly recall you telling me that you had no intention of marriage.”

“it’s… a long story,” you sighed, taking a sip from your own cup of tea. “oh? are you implying that there’s more to this than meets the eye, then?”

“i guess you could say that.”

“well, then tell me all about it.”

“i… i can't. my apologies, chiori.” it's not like you didn't trust her. in fact, there are more secrets that are held within this fine modiste’s place than one could ever imagine. but it was a silent and automatic agreement between you and the duke that no one must know of your plan. (although you already hinted to chiori that there's more to it than meets the eye.) besides, chiori is a smart woman who has known you before she could even have her place built.

she doesn't need to be a genius to find out that there's something up. she'll pick up on it sooner or later.

“it's alright. there’s no need to feel pressure to tell me now, but do promise me one thing: you're not doing anything against the law, right?”

you couldn't help but burst out in laughter at her question. “chiori! do you take me as a criminal? of course, i’m not!” you replied, laughing in a fit of giggles in between your words. “thank goodness. well, how was i supposed to know? you almost never stop by so we rarely have the chance to catch up. every bit of news i hear from you is usually from the other ladies who sometimes talk about you.”

“don’t worry, my friend. i’ll stop by more often from now on, but seriously, are you still eavesdropping on your customers? i thought we were past that.”

“it isn't my fault some of them whisper way too loudly for my liking,” chiori scoffs.

as you two have a few more conversations, it is about time for you to take your leave, as the time has reached for the hour when chiori would usually have customers. “it was truly a pleasure to catch up with you, chiori.” you said as she escorted you to the door. “a pleasure indeed. do drop by more often, alright? it can get quite lonely here, you know.” a giggle leaves your lips at her response. “will do. i believe i might need a new dress soon for the upcoming firestone ball?” you say and you notice how chiori’s had some sort of sparkle at your mention of needing a new dress. she had always loved making dresses for you.

“is that so? i promise to suggest some designs that you might like once you return.”

— — — — — — — — 

the fountain of lucine was a famous spot for a walk in the park type of day. every day, you’d see different individuals make their wish upon the fountain. whether that is a prosperous marriage, being blessed with a beloved child, or even gaining wealth, everyone wishes for all sorts of desires towards the fountain. but you never found yourself doing the same. it’s most probably because you've already been content with your life up until now. you never had any struggles when it came to growing up.

but again, that is up until now. 

you took a step further towards the fountain, silently stating your wish and threw the coin into the fountain’s small pool of water. “penny for your wish?” you heard someone say beside you. quickly turning your head to the direction of the voice, you were surprised to see the duke there. “duke meropide! i—i didn’t expect that you were going to be here today.”

“i decided to go out for a stroll; the weather is quite nice today, is it not?” 

“ah, yes, i suppose it is,” you replied, looking around. the weather was indeed nice today. perfect for a quick stroll around the area. “would you mind taking a stroll with me today? it would be a shame to waste this fine weather talking in the same spot.” he says, offering his arm for you to take. “i’d be delighted to.” your arm gets hooked on his.

“how are you faring lately? it has been quite a while since our last meeting,” wriothesley starts. he personally prefers his attempt at small talk today to his attempt at small talk the night he met you. it has been a few days since the ball held by the house of hearth. and within those few days, you haven’t spoken to the duke since. though, your house suddenly has suitors calling for you during your calling hour. all hopeful to gain your interest in them instead of the duke.

(however, you all shut them down politely. you found yourself repeating your apologies to the lords that have called upon you during those times.)

“i’ve been well. certainly, the stunt that we pulled during the ball held in the house of hearth did not go unnoticed. my social energy has been drained because of the suitors who called me.” a sigh leaves your lips. “oh? i apologize for that then. i hope that your social energy isn't at it’s lowest right now,” he chuckles. you gave him a playful glare at his remark. “are you making fun of my previous predicament, duke?” 

“oh, heavens no. my apologies, did that offend you?” he says, holding back a smile at his words. he was definitely not apologetic. “you’re not that sorry for it, aren’t you?”

“perchance.”

“you cannot just say perchance!”

a laugh erupts from wriothesley at your response. it was the first time you heard him laugh like that. and in the public eye, you two would seem like a joyful couple spending some quality time walking around the fountain of lucine as a pastime. well, that was technically the goal. to show the public that you and the duke of meropide are madly in love with one another. what could possibly go wrong?

— — — — — — — — 

by the time the firestone ball had taken place (which is nearly just a week after the ball from the house of hearth), you and the duke were on the dance floor once again.

“i believe we have yet to discuss our other terms and agreement for our plan, your grace.” you said, following his lead in the waltz. “ah, you’re right. well then, why don’t you start? ladies first.” he says. “i was hoping that you’d have some ideas on what terms we should have; after all, this was your idea, if i may remind you.”

you continue speaking as wriothesley continues to lead you through the dance. “i am starting to be convinced that this will be more than just a simple game of pretend just so we could fool the members of society, or my mother, or the women you have wanted to get away from every time you step foot in public. a life is at stake here, your grace, my life, and i just simply cannot have this go wrong. so if you are not in agreement with that, then you should tell me now.” the duke never broke his eye contact with you as you spoke.

“i shall agree… on one condition.”

“your grace, i believe that you do not understa—”

“you must call me wriothesley.” 

there’s only one word to describe you at the moment: speechless. and wriothesley takes your silence as a chance to continue his words. “if we are truly to be courting, and if we are truly to prove that this is a match like no other, then you should call me by my name. after all, weren’t you the one who suggested that we should be more... casual with one another?”

he was right, and he had yet again another one hell of a good point. you mentally sighed, “very well then… wriothesley.” a laugh dares to escape your throat but this does not go unnoticed by the man who has his hand held in his at the moment. “is there something funny about my name?” he asks you, raising an eyebrow at your reaction. “no, no. it is a perfectly fine name. it is also quite unique, if i may add.” you replied, calming yourself down. laughing loudly while you’re in the middle of the dance floor would raise questions, after all.

“oh, perfectly fine? very well then… (name).” wriothesley’s voice seemed to have lowered itself an octave lower as he said your name with a slight rasp. your eyes looked away from his as you shifted your gaze to his collar instead. both of you went silent, yet you were still moving to the rhythm of the music.

wriothesley’s hand, that was supposedly at your waist, trailed upwards. just below the nape of your neck and also before your spine starts. your breath hitched at the contact of his cold finger tips there.

“i do hope that this plan will be successful.” you said, gaining your composure.

“have faith in us.”

— — — — — — — — 

meetings with the duke of meropide became more frequent than you expected. whether that may be a coincidental meeting or a planned one—no one could really pinpoint it, much to their dismay. 

it started off with a simple meal. then another walk. then an official invitation to accompany him to a ball or two. or three; in fact, he has invited you for a lot of them now. you haven’t thought much about the future as of late, always focusing on the present, where you’re definitely by wriothesley’s side. there was never a dull moment with the man. it was always entertaining to be with him. whenever another man (a man whose appeal is not to take interest in a sense) would approach you, wriothesley would pull some sort of stunt that’s connected to his “wild jealousy” of some sort. it’s a bit hard to hold back a laugh whenever this happens. there are times when he would talk to you about the other nobles present in the party and how he’s acquainted with them, and you’d admire the fact that he has many connections (something that a duke like him should have; he’s doing well in his duties, you’d note).

there are also times when you two will find yourselves alone, secluding yourselves from the crowd. these were, personally, your favorites. with the moonlight shining brightly upon you both once again, you’d always be reminded of the night you met. at these moments, this is when you and the duke would share… more personal things with one another. things that neither of you had expected to share with anyone else. like how he avoids marriage because of the huge responsibility that comes with it. or like how you doubt that others, especially men (minus the duke), would understand your struggles as a woman in this society.

wriothesley might have a lot of connections, but he was just the same as you. both of you kept your circle quite small (and by small, you both have only one person you truly trust to confide in). but even if you both wouldn’t admit it out loud, trust had also bloomed between the two of you.

(yet is trust the only thing that has actually bloomed?)

tonight, you found yourselves in yet another garden. “have you ever heard of why a flower wilts, wriothesley?” you decided to start this time. “hm? i suppose it’s because nothing good actually lasts long in life.” 

“how… pessimistic of you to say.” you sweatdropped at his response. he chuckles yet again, you noticed that he always chuckles apologetically while looking away before he actually says his apologies. a habit of his, perhaps. “my apologies; i must repeat myself. the less a person sees of me, the happier their life is.”

“why so? i enjoy your company quite well.”

“oh? and are you sure those words aren’t forced because you’re stuck with me with this little ruse we have ongoing?” he asks back. these exchanges became frequent. one would ask a question, and the other would ask another in return. “i’m being quite honest, wriothesley. i really do enjoy your company quite well.”

“the feeling is likewise, (name).” there’s something satisfying about how your name rolls off of his tongue. he pronounces it the same as everyone else does yet how does it feel different when he says it? it’s baffling, that’s one thing for sure. “is it awful that i’m actually quite enjoying this?”

“you mean my wild jealousy?” he asks, playfully offended.

“fooling society.” you corrected. “there are some in the crowd who secretly know everything about everyone. yet we have them utterly convinced that we are mad for one another.”

“we are awfully clever then.” he says in amusement. “indeed we are.” you chuckled at his reply.

if there’s one thing you would always notice between the two of you, it would always be how you were glued to one another. like there’s some magnetic pull that automatically drags the other to their side. 

this moment is no different because you could feel his knuckles grazing against yours ever so lightly. it starts with the hook of your pinkies, then slowly turns into you grabbing a hold of his other fingers. wriothesley could feel his heart beating fast at the contact. he glances at you, admiring your features underneath the moonlight once again. you glance at him as well. was he already this close to you when you started walking in this garden? because you swear your faces are inching even closer to each other. wriothesley’s other hand gently grabs your nape, guiding you as he gently pulls you in for a kiss. 

his lips were soft against yours, something you didn’t expect from him. he kisses you like you were delicate (to which you were, delicate to him, at least), eyes closing themselves as he enjoys the sensation of your lips against his. you kiss him back in the same way, not really knowing what to do next—but you kiss him back. that’s all that matters. his lips leave yours as wriothesley latches his lips onto your neck, continuing the light kisses against it.

you let out a gasp at the contact as you lean your head back so you can give him more access. he intertwined his other hand with yours; it was quite scandalous. having a moment like this on someone else’s property. you extracted him from your neck, pulling him in for another kiss. this time it was a bit more rough—desperate, even.

well, that was until he pulled away from you abruptly. you looked at him in a daze yet you were confused. “we must return; we’ve been out long enough,” he says, letting go of your hand in the process as he fixes himself. he tries to catch his breath, processing what has just happened. did he really just kiss you? he supposes (or, in other terms, hopes) that it’s normal. ultimately, this should’ve been part of your agreement in the first place, right?

“i… you’re right. my mother could be looking for me any moment now.” what could possibly go wrong, you ask? well, apparently, many things could go wrong.

but if there’s one thing that got stitched into your mind tonight, it’s only one thing:

the duke of meropide is one good kisser.

however, what will become of your relationship now?

— — — — — — — — 

you found yourself going to chiori again. the familiar sound of the bell chiming against the door notified chiori of someone entering her place. and once she saw you, she could just feel the distress radiating off of your body.

“what happened this time? i haven’t heard any good news about you two from last night’s party.” she says, pouring you a cup of tea. “good news? more like insane occurrences,” you sighed, watching the tea leave the teapot as it transfers onto your teacup. “ insane occurrences? what happened to ‘memorable event’?” she asked, confused with your choice of words.

you let out another sigh, finally revealing everything to chiori. luckily, today was her day off. with another ball just held last night, she would get at least a day or two of good rest before she opens up again. chiori takes in every detail of your story well, surprised that this is what you’ve been up to.

as soon as you were done talking, you decided to take a sip of your tea. “so you’re worried that you almost slept with the duke of meropide?” chiori states. and you choked on your drink once you heard her. “you didn’t have to word it like that! have some decency!” you exclaimed, embarrassment surging through you. 

“i don’t get it, though. what are you so worried about? it’s almost as if… wait.” she pauses.

“it’s almost as if what, chiori?”

“do you love him?”

“huh? love who?”

“don’t play dumb with me, (name). do you or do you not love the duke of meropide?”

this time, it was your turn to pause. do you? well, certainly, he is nice company. and he treats you well despite neither of you having the wish to marry each other. he is also a good kisser (something that you don’t really feel like counting but it’s still a fact). recalling everything that has happened now, the only things that come into mind are the things you’ve noticed about wriothesley. how his eyes are the most remarkable shade of grey, his scar below his right eye. the feeling of the callouses on his hands as you held them on the dance floor.

it can’t be. there’s just no way. he’s a duke of all people—he’s out of your league in so many ways. he’s too far for you to reach. and besides, this is all just a game of pretend, is it not? surely that kiss would’ve meant nothing to him. 

fuck.

“i do.” you replied to her in a whisper

“i’m glad that you’re not dense.” chiori says, flicking your forehead. you yelped in pain at the contact. 

yes, you do love the duke of meropide.

and you stand by that.

meanwhile, on the other side of the coin, wriothesley had a crisis himself. “you’re quite lucky today, to ask for my presence while queen furina is occupied with duke arlecchino with her. so what assistance can i offer for you today, wriothesley?” neuvillette states, pulling his chair so he could take a seat before the man in front of him. wriothesley leans back on his seat, an elbow propped on top of the chair’s arm rest as his index finger is rested upon his lips. 

wriothesley sighs. before spilling everything to neuvillette. his friend’s expression grew more amused as he continued on with the story, finding every detail unexpected for a man like his friend. “i see. so that’s how it is. well, let me ask you a simple question then, my friend.” 

“shoot.”

“do you love her?”

wriothesley pauses. neuvillette’s questions echo repeatedly in his mind. do i love her? he then asks himself. he was not stupid. wriothesley did not need to become some sort of genius to find the answer to that question—because the answer is no. he doesn’t love you. yes, he has grown to trust you with things he would never even dare tell anyone else. but he’s scared. wriothesley is scared because he has never thought of commitment in this way before. romance was just a frivolous belief to him, after all. so surely, this would all just mean nothing.

he ponders about it for a few more moments. he’s too scarred—too damaged—to be loved by someone like you. he feels undeserving of it. he knows there’s another man out there who could be the man you want to be. someone who will make you happier than he does. someone who is willing to commit himself to you. someone who could love you with nothing holding him back. 

“i don’t.” wriothesley firmly says.

no, wriothesley cannot be in love with you.

(neuvillette gives his friend a sigh as his friend takes his leave. he returns back to the room where queen furina is currently spending time with duke arlecchino. the duke had a habit of bringing the queen sweets from their travels abroad. the queen has excitement written all over her eyes as she makes eye contact with the pastries set in front of her.)

— — — — — — — — 

it wasn’t hard to put two and two together to realize that wriothesley has been avoiding you.

it has been a few months since you decided to start your ruse. although he still accompanies you, once it’s quite crowded, he will deliberately avoid your presence like a plague, and you have no idea why. you first thought that may be he was just feeling unwell but it has occurred more frequent now and it just stings, really. it stings because you thought that you two had formed quite the bond over the past few months.

“wriothesley, is something wrong? you know you could always talk to me, right?” you asked him, finally cornering him as he had successfully avoided you for the past two hours ever since the party started. “it’s nothing of your concern,” was all he said before leaving you again. but that answer wasn’t enough—hell, it wasn’t even a proper answer for you. so you decided to follow him.

“where are you going?” you asked him. speeding your pace up to catch up to him. wriothesley doesn’t answer and just continues on walking. he ends up going into a secluded room, not even bothering to close the door. you followed him in and shut the door behind you as you faced him. he had his back facing you as you heard him take a deep breath. “wriothesley, what’s wrong? and don’t even dare say that it’s none of my concern because it is.”

wriothesley could feel himself going mad. he can’t do this tonight. what even caused him to behave this way?

ah, he remembers. it was that unbearable sight of you interacting with marquess lyney. he should’ve been happy that you finally seem interested in someone else because all you two have to do now is plan how you should end things. but that thought made wriothesley realize two things. one, he cannot bear the sight of you with another man (but why? it’s not like you’re actually his in the first place). and two, he doesn’t want things to end between the both of you. whether it's a ruse that feels too real for his own liking or whatnot, he doesn’t want to lose you in his life.

he loosens the buttons on his top so that he can breathe more properly. you got closer to him, but only if you knew that was a dangerous move on your part. you grabbed his arm in hopes of getting a view of wriothesley’s expression at the moment.

he then faces you, his eyes searching for something in yours but you just can’t find out what. it was silent; neither of you dared to speak a word. and wriothesley finds himself pulling you for a kiss. it was a bit rough how his lips crashed against yours. he then pulls away, his eyes widening at what he just did. “i… my most sincere apologies.”

and he leaves. just like that.

the familiar door to the modiste is presented at you as you knocked. it was late at night. the party you attended earlier with wriothesley was long over. but you knew your dear friend would still be up even at this late hour. 

“(name)? what brings you here at this hour?” chiori asks, opening the door wider so you could enter.

“i need a goddamn drink.” you said.

— — — — — — — — 

“so you’re telling me that he just… kissed you again, and then he left the party? just like that?” chiori repeats. you take another shot of the alcohol chiori provided for the both of you. “hey, calm down. this one is actually pretty strong, you idiot.” chiori warns you.

you lean back, slamming the shot glass against the table. “just like that, chiori. like what is wrong with him? is he perhaps sick in the head?”

“i honestly don’t know if i should be at least grateful that he apologized.” she says, taking a shot as well. you glare at her remark and she raises her hands in return. you sighed this time, “are men always this… complicated?”

“hm, i don’t think so. maybe it’s just the duke.”

“you’re not helping!”

“you never said you wanted help in the first place.”

— — — — — — — — 

seven days.

seven days since you last spoke to wriothesley. seven days since you last heard of him. it has been seven days yet he hasn’t made any attempts to contact you since. 

just what was up with him? he was fine before. did you do something wrong? did you accidentally say something that was offensive to him? everything has changed now. wriothesley is treating you like he treated you before he actually met you—cold. 

your mother has decided to throw a ball this time—something about her not wanting to fall behind the other mothers. you complied, having to accept that society is nothing but competition against one another. and on the day of the ball, you found yourself lonely. if only chiori wasn’t busy with her other orders, then maybe this night would’ve been more entertaining.

wriothesley has yet to make his appearance (or perhaps he is already here yet he has decided to avoid you again). but you have decided on one thing tonight: you will talk things out with that stubborn man no matter what it takes. because you cannot just bear to stand idly by when wriothesley could be struggling alone. you once heard from your mother that love makes you do the craziest things and tonight was the night you realized that she was right. but isn’t it worth it if it’s all in the name of love?

the outdoor area of your home was also used for the ball, and decorations are displayed here and there to make the area look more eyecatching. to your family’s dismay, it has begun to rain. making all of the guests head inside to continue the festivities. but as you made your way to follow the crowd, you spotted someone too familiar—it was the man you’ve been looking for all evening, wriothesley.

looking around his surroundings, wriothesley spots you getting drenched in the rain. his eyes widen as he quickly makes his way towards you, removing his coat to drape it over you instead. “are you insane? you’re getting drenched!” he exclaims in worry. you scoff in return, pushing yourself away from his coat and allowing yourself to get wet by the rain.

“am i insane? i should be the one asking you that!” you said, glaring at him. “how… how could you? do you know how worried i have been because of you? you avoided me, then kissed me, then avoided me even more! i had no idea if you were okay because you didn’t even dare speak with me while i was here stuck waiting for you. why? because i didn’t want to pressure you into telling me what’s wrong!”

wriothesley is at a loss for words at your outburst. he just stares at you in return, guilt written all over him. he deserved your anger. but he didn’t mean for things to go this far, yet he also didn’t know how to handle things. you continued speaking, “wriothesley, i have no idea what’s clouding over your heart but i do know one thing: you musn’t keep it to yourself.”

“(name)...” he softly says—hesitantly, even. like he’s scared to even say your name in the first place. you take a step forward, both of your hands reaching out to hold his face. your touch was gentle on his skin, making sure you weren't making him uncomfortable. “tell me what’s wrong, wriothesley. i’ll listen.”

and tell you, he does. he voice shakes at first yet he begins to steady it as he unravels to you everything that has been bothering him up until now. his jealousy, his inner turmoil, and his insecurities. and you listen to him, understanding every word that escapes his lips as your hand never leaves his face, your fingers gently brushing over his scar below his right eye. and once he’s finished, you choose your next words carefully.

“there’s something that i realized in life that i believe you should know. just because something is not perfect does not make it any less worthy of love. you made yourself believe otherwise. you made yourself believe that you had to be without fault just so you could be loved but you’re wrong, wriothesley. should you need any proof of the matter, then look just here.” you weakly laugh at the last sentence, and wriothesley just stares at you. you couldn’t find out what’s going on in his head but you know that he’s listening.

your voice shakes as you continue. “i am tired of this sick game of pretending. i am tired of pretending—of acting as if i do not love you, because i do. i love you more than you could ever imagine. every scar, every flaw, every imperfection—i love all of you. you may think you’re too damaged or too scarred to allow yourself of happiness but you can choose differently, wriothesley. you can choose to love me as much as i love you. that should not be up to anyone else—that cannot be up to anyone else.”

“it can only be up to you.”

he was still silent as you slowly let go of his face but wriothesley was quick to catch them. he grabs ahold of your hands, and with his slight shaking, he takes a deep breath. he realizes something when you profess your love for him. he puts two things together: commitment and you. and the conclusion he draws from that is that he doesn’t mind commitment, as long as he’s committing himself to you. that’s how much of an impact you have on him. yes, he’s scared. and yes, this might not go like he hopes it will. but that doesn’t matter to him because he knows it will all be worth it for you. wriothesley is a coward when it comes to love and the like—that, he admits. but he isn’t allowing himself to be a coward for the rest of his life. why deprive himself of the serene type of happiness that he could only achieve when he has you by his side?

he kept his eyes on the hands he’s holding now as he began to speak. “i.. i do not wish to be alone. i know that now. but what i do not know is how to be the man you wish for me to be—the man you truly deserve. i do not know how to do any of this, but i do know another thing: i love you too. i love you. most ardently.” he then meets your eyes as he notices one thing in them. love.

“you stay. you stay and we’ll get through this. together. that’s where we’ll start. we have all the time in the world.”

“may i… kiss you?” he hesitates to ask. but you give him a nod of approval before you’re met with the familiar pleasure of his lips on yours. he relishes every second of the kiss, taking this as a chance to ground himself into reality—refusing to believe that this is some sick dream that his mind decided to play in his head. a hand slithers its way to the nape of his neck and wriothesley groans at the feeling as his hand grabs your waist tighter. wriothesley thanked his lucky stars for the night he met you because this wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for them.

love at first sight was a frivolous belief for a man like wriothesley. 

but he knew otherwise the moment he laid his eyes upon you that night in the garden.

[nebbi-astrii]

Background by @xpau-official

Wanted to do some interactions between characters from different creators. It feels a little strange including creators I liked from the past and present in one drawing, but I don’t hate it! It’s just.. reminiscent..?

Khai & Dev- Me!

Virux & Kable- @bunrux

Codex & Cherry- @thenoblescosplay

Reverie- @rinky-dinky-dink

Appreciation notes for these creators (feel free to skip these if you’re not them)

(Don’t wanna make these too lengthy. Also sorry, I’m not good with words-😭)

To Beau,

I’m happy to have met you when getting fixated again on Undertale AUs and I had fun developing Rev with you, even if it wasn’t much. I’m also thankful for you and others helping me make Khai into something much more than a concept, because otherwise Khai would kinda be nothing right now.

To Bun,

I’m glad I discovered you when I became fixated on Undertale AUs again recently, because Virux & Kable are really cool characters and I love em. Know that you helped kickstart my fixation again. (is this a curse or a blessing? lol)

To Tanu & Chinchi,

You guys were a big part of my childhood, a big influence for me, and helped me discover who I was as a person. I loved y’all’s cosplays and AUs! Your characters are also really unique and inspiring and I hope the project is going well if you’re still working on it! Codex’s scarf arms actually had inspired younger me to make a character with scarf arms as well, so yea tysm for being an inspiration for my younger self <3

To past me,

Hey, hope you didn’t miss leaving the fandom, because you came crawling right back after 6 years. I know you hated how bad your art was compared to some others your age, and hell even now, but at least you’ve become better at drawing, and that’s what matters. Everyone has a different art journey and sure yours may be slow, but improvement is what matters. Crazy how you got fixated again tho lmao.

If you made it this far, congrats! I went digging through my photos and.. Omg this is from 2017 😭 I had only posted this on instagram and then deleted it after leaving the UTMV fandom, so it’s been collecting dust in my photos until now.

[virtual-bunny]

Period Cramps and Comfort

pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

summary: you got your period, making you miserable, so you your boyfriend, kei, try’s to make you feel as comfortable as possible

warnings: blood, nakedness but nothing nsfw NOT PROOF READ

a/n: this took me way too long, also i tried to make the text a different color, like gradient or a different type of yellow but tumblr doesn’t have that option, but it’s too much work for me to go on a coding website and i’m lazy and now i’m sad LMAO

“Have you taken any pain medicine?”

“No I don’t know where they are and I don’t wanna look for them because if I move my cramps are gonna start to hurt even though I can feel them right now but I don’t wanna get hurt.” You cry out.

Tsukishima tries his best not to roll his eyes, moving your hair out of your face, you open your eyes to look at him, squished face and slightly opened duck lips staring up at him as he kept moving your hair out of the way.

“Where are they?” He finally says and you sigh in relief.

“On the top cupboard above the counter with the spoons and forks.”

Tsukishima nods, sitting up from the side of your bed and goes to look for the small bottle, going through all the “just incase” medication you had, but he didn’t find the bottle anywhere.

“Are you sure we have any?” He asks as he walks back to your bedroom, making you open your eyes again to follow his figure walking towards you.

“Yeah?!” You cry out, ready to let out a full sob.

Tsukishima sighs, shaking his head. “Didn’t find them.”

The tears start to roll down your cheeks now. To any person it would look like you were crying out for someone’s death, but really you were just in menstrual pain.

Tsukishima looks at you for a moment before speaking.

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to the store-“

“NOOOOOOOO!” You cry again, extending your arm to barely grab on to your boyfriend’s shirt. Tsukishima’s taken aback, looking at you with widened eyes.

“Don’t leave meeeeee!” You cry again, letting go of his shirt to wipe your tears. Tsukishima tries his best to not make a snarky comment at you, so instead, he bends down to your level, now face to face with your puffy face and caresses your cheek.

“I promise I’ll be quick babe.” He whispered, caressing your cheeck and giving you a kiss on the lips. You nod, sniffing as he stood back up and left your room.

Tsukishima went to the nearest convenience store. He found everything he thought of getting for you, thankfully, because he knew if he was gone for more than an hour, you’d probably get more upset than you already were. Grabbing two bottles of tylenol, some snacks, pads, and a small bouquet of flowers, tsukishima left the store and put evething in his trunk.

After about twenty minutes, he came back home, calling out for you.

“Y/n?”

“Eeeehhhhh?”

He set everything in the counter, only grabbing the bottle of tylenol and a glass of water to bring to you.

As he entered your room, he was suprised to see you had changed positions. Your back was now against the bed frame, but your hair was messier than he had remembered.

“Here.” He set the pill on your tongue, tipping the glass of water on your lips. You drank the water and pill with ease, letting out a sigh as you finished swallowing.

“Let’s go shower.” He mumbles, pulling the blanket from your lap. You shake your head, resisting his gripping hand on yours as he gently tries to pull you out of bed.

“Kei it’s gonna be nasty.” You whine but he doesn’t listen, finally getting you up and taking you to the bathroom.

You slowly take off your shirt, whinceing at the movements that made your cramps act up. Tsukishima looks over his shoulder, he’s bending down touching the bath water for the temperature, his glasses slowly falling off his nose bridge.

You kept whining, you felt warm and nasty, it overwhelmed you. Tearless cries came from you, looking at Tsukishima for help. Kei clicks his tongue, standing straight to help you walk closer to the tub.

“It’s okay, you’ll feel better right now.”

Tapping your arm, he grabs the hem of your shirt and you put your arms up, letting Tsukishima take off your shirt. He moves out of your way slightly as you unclip your bra and step into the shower.

As you let the warm water hit your body, Tsukishima took off his clothes as well, setting his glasses near the sink.

“I have blood crust.” You inform your boyfriend who just stepped in the shower, his chest in front of your face. He only hums in return.

For a few minutes it’s silent as Kei massages your shoulders, the warm water helping the tension lessen, and although you were enjoying the massage, you couldn’t help but have the urge to hug him.

You turn around, facing him again. Tsukki looks down at you, his stupid smirk on his face taunting you.

“What?”

“You do have blood crust.”

You stomp your foot and whine, trying to throw water at him but it is no use. Tsukishima laughs, reaching over your shoulder to turn off the shower and start the bath, so you took this as a chance to wrap your arms around him, the pout on your lips turning into a smile.

As the tub started to fill up, Tsukishima got out, wrapping a towel around his waist.

“Stay here,” his tall frame crouches under the bathroom door frame, leaving you behind.

As you wait for your boyfriend, you took this as an opportunity to clean yourself as fast as you could, opening the cap of the bathtub so the now “colored” water drains. You know Tsukki would get pissed off if you’d do this, since it was more convenient if you had just told him that you wanted to get a bit clean first.

Closing the drain again and turning on the water one more time, you stood there, arms hugging your bare body, looking like a wet puppy in the foggy room.

“KEI!” You call out, starting to miss your boyfriend. As if on time, the lanky man appears, a tray of food, bottled juice, your favorite snacks, your favorite scented soap, and a small bouquet of flowers on his hands. You gasp in surprise, a smile spreading all over your face as you move out the way so he can set the things down.

But as you stood there, a sharp pain up your ass hit you, making you flinch and clench your butt. This startled your boyfriend, dropping the things in his hands to the floor with widened eyes as he put his hands on your arms to check what was wrong with you.

“Ow ow ow ow ow ow,” you hiss, eyes closed shut as the excruciating pain continued.

“What happened?” Tsukishima asks, not knowing what to do, his eyes frantically look all over you.

“Butt cramp.” You reply in a pained voice, a small tear going down your cheek from the pain.

“Can you sit down?” Setting the tray in the bathtub and messily setting the things on it, Kei took off his towel and stepped inside the bath, grabbing the scented soap and squirting the liquid around the clear water.

You didn’t respond, the pain was still lingering, your head felt dizzy and your mouth was dry, whatever Tsukishima had said went over your head. He noticed this and gently set the soap down and turned to look again at you.

“Hey,” he said softly placing his hands on your hips and rubbing little circles. You shake your head to focus, droopy eyes looking at him

“Mhm.” You nod your head, the question he had asked you finally settingling in your brain. You step in the tub, turning around so your back is facing his chest, sitting down on the warm water.

The two of you watched some video on his phone on youtube, quietly eating your food and drinking juice.

Every now and then you’d wince at your cramps acting up, but Tsukishima would be quick to massages your tummy and back whenever it started to hurt.

Kei moved behind you, reaching over you to grab the shampoo you two shared.

“Don’t get it in my eyes,” you say through your chewing food, eyes never leaving the video. Tsukki rolls his eyes, squirting a good amount of shampoo into your damp hair and massaging your scalp.

You moan, eyes rolling at the back of your head as you swallow your food.

“That feels good,” you sigh. Tsukki chuckles, the tip of his fingers rubbing against your scalp. He stops, reaching over you to grab some of the snacks he had bought.

You lean your head back for a moment, looking up at your boyfriend who, as he’s chewing his food, looks down at you and smirks.

After your bath, Tsukishima made sure to bring the unfinished food to your bed, settling the small tray table in your spot as you went to change to a warm tshirt of his and some baggy sweatpants.

As you walk over to your shared bed, you put your hand inside your underwear, adjusting your pad. Kei chuckles, shaking his head as he sets a towel on the side of your bed and pats the spot for your to sit in.

You plop yourself on the bed, waiting for Kei to cover you with the blankets, and as he did, you steal a kiss from him, making him kiss you back quickly.

Walking to the the other side of the bed, Tsukishima laid down and covered himself with the blankets, you instantly snuggling up to him, grabbing his arm so you could wrap it around your body.

As the evening went on, you and Tsukki enjoyed the rest of the evening cuddling in bed while you complained every now and then about your pain, mood swings taking over you, and although all Kei wanted to do was to cover your face with a pillow, he took it easy with you, comforting you and letting you chew his ear off, cry on him and kissing him all over his face whenever your mood changed.

And since you need to be on weird positions in order for your cramps not to hurt, you fell asleep with your mouth open, hair all over you and Tsukishima’s face as you laid ontop of him, your drool getting on his shirt.

Tsukishima reached for the tv remote as slowly as he could in order to not wake you up. Turning off the tv, your guys room went dark. Kei closed his eyes, sighing. You shifted on him for a second, making his eyes widen as he looked up at the ceiling, his body stiffened.

Once he heard you snoring again, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he wiped off your drool from your lip, moving the hair out of your face, and gave you a kiss on the cheek, turning his head around as he drifted to sleep.

[official-cvntified-gay]

GIRLY I AM CRAVING FOR SOME LARISSA "MILF" WEEMS RN

Would you write Larissa falling for Reader, (She literally just simps over Reader lmao) and Reader is just oblivious to it until Larissa just blurts it out and Reader buffers then has a 'oooh' moment 😭

Idk it's silly lol. Anyways thanks babes! Love you lotssss 💞💞💞

CLUELESS

pairing: simp!larissa x oblivious!reader

warnings: none

notes: thank you so much for this dear anon<3 I tried with this, u have my love<3

wc: 900 +

The rain drummed softly against the windows of Larissa’s quarters, the golden glow of her lamps casting a cozy warmth over the room. She’d invited you over after a particularly long day, saying that a quiet night in with wine and “some well-deserved relaxation” was just what she needed. You, ever the good friend, had happily agreed, chalking it up to nothing more than a comforting night spent together—like a sleepover, you’d thought with a smile.

You curled up on one end of her sofa, your glass of wine in hand, marveling at how different Larissa looked in her own space, freed from the crisp professionalism she wore around Nevermore. She’d let her hair down, the loose waves cascading over her shoulders, and swapped her usual formal clothes for a soft, cream-colored sweater that only made her look more striking.

“Thank you for coming over tonight,” she said, smiling softly as she settled beside you with her own glass. “It’s… been a day.”

“Oh, of course!” you replied with a grin, nudging her shoulder. “This is what friends are for, right? Besides, it’s nice to just… relax with you.” You took a sip of your wine, missing the way her eyes lingered on you, something tender and longing in her gaze.

You’d come to know Larissa quite well over the last few months, and you’d grown close, often spending evenings like this together, sharing laughter and conversation. But lately, she’d been acting a bit different. The little gifts, the way she would sometimes touch your arm or shoulder when she laughed, the look she got in her eyes when she thought you weren’t paying attention—all of it confused you. You’d chalked it up to her being friendly, affectionate, even if it did make your heart race now and then. She was just… generous, right?

She turned to you now, a small, almost hesitant smile on her face. “Do you ever think about love?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Love? Well, sure, I guess.” You laughed, brushing it off, but her expression stayed intent, her blue eyes steady on yours in a way that made your breath catch.

She took a deep breath, her fingers toying with the stem of her wine glass. “Have you ever been in love?”

You pondered the question, not sure how to answer. “I’m… not sure,” you admitted. “Maybe someday, if the right person comes along.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze slipping away as she looked down into her wine. “It’s a strange thing, love. To be around someone and feel your heart speed up, to bring them little things just to see them smile, to want to be near them in every way… even if they have no idea what they’re doing to you.”

You blinked, suddenly taken aback by her tone. She sounded almost frustrated, her usual calm composure faltering just slightly, a hint of vulnerability in her voice. You opened your mouth to say something, but she continued, as though she’d held these words back for too long.

“All the times I’ve sat here with you, hoping you’d notice the way I look at you… the compliments, the little gifts…” Her eyes softened as she looked up at you, her gaze raw and almost pleading. “Merlin’s sake, I’ve been trying to show you. I’m in love with you.”

You stared at her, her words settling over you like a gentle but jarring realization. She’d been leaving signs all along, hadn’t she? The lingering glances, the little touches, the gifts, the affectionate way she’d always smiled at you. You’d thought it was all part of her warmth and kindness, but now—now it was as if a veil had lifted.

“Oh,” you breathed, your heart racing as each moment with her came rushing back. She’d been in love with you this whole time. And you… you’d been too oblivious to see it.

“A-all those times…” you murmured, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. “They were for me? Because you love me?”

A hint of relief crossed her face as she nodded, a small, shy smile breaking through her usual poise. “Yes. All of it was for you.”

You were at a loss of words, your brain having a malfunction at her words, "say something... please"

You quickly gather yourself. You felt a wave of emotions rise within you, a rush of warmth and realization that filled the space between you. “Larissa… I—I didn’t realize…” You trailed off, searching for the right words, feeling your own feelings for her bubbling to the surface, feelings you’d buried without understanding why.

And before you could second-guess yourself, you reached for her hand, entwining your fingers with hers. She let out a soft, almost surprised breath, her smile widening as her thumb brushed gently over your knuckles.

“Well,” you whispered, a bit breathless, “I think we need to schedule a proper date. I’ve clearly missed a few things…”

Her laughter was soft, affectionate, as she leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with a newfound joy. “I think I’d like that very much.”

And in the quiet of her quarters, the rain tapping against the window, you realized that your heart had known long before your mind did.

[queenofthekings]

𝓢𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓐𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮

Summary: Your story of survival in New York, and the promise you made to Eric.

Author’s note: If I get anything wrong about New York, pls don't yell at me I'm just a Brit who's never been and is relying on the movie and my friends for help lmao. Special think you to @littlexdeaths for helping me with this, without you I probably wouldn't have gotten this finished. And if any of you see a reference to The Enemy, no you don't.

CW: 18+, fluff, descriptions of injuries, horror, spoilers for a quiet place day one.

Word count: 1.5k

Tagging: @espressomunson.

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

You’d first met Eric in class, his accent being the first thing you noticed about him. Like him, you’d travelled far to attend law school in New York and both of you would talk frequently after classes about life back home and how different New York was compared to it.

The more you got to know each other, the more romance blossomed between you. He would always wait for you before class and go in with you, sitting beside you just so he could brush his fingers against your hand or whisper something funny into your ear to distract you.

You were expecting him to ask you out on a date, but then the world fell apart.

When it started, you were with a couple of your classmates, just laughing and joking around and then it stopped.

You barely had time to react before something akin to a bomb exploding just down the street caused everyone to start screaming and running all around you. Your lungs and eyes were burning from the smoke, and you could barely see but all you knew was that you needed to run. You had no idea where your friends were, but you hoped they were just hiding somewhere, and you’d see them soon as you darted into a bookstore.

With shaking hands, you got out your phone and dialled Eric’s number, silently praying he’d pick up only it went straight to voicemail. “Eric, it’s me. If you get this, stay where you are; I will come for you, okay? I will come find you. I’m so fucking scared right now, but I hope you’re still out there and you’re safe.”

You wanted to tell him you loved him, but you were too scared to, what if he didn’t feel the same way? God, feelings were hard when the world was ending.

You ended the call and looked around you, trying to find anything of value, picking up a map and a small nightlight you could use as a torch. You weren’t entirely sure where you could go but staying where you were clearly wasn’t an option. Shoving your things into your backpack, you hesitantly walked back out onto the now quiet street, trying your best not to walk on any broken glass or rubble.

Tears began running down your cheeks as you walked, but you didn’t bother wiping them away. You had to come to terms with the idea that you were the only one left; your friends were gone and so was Eric, even if that thought killed you.

As you walked, you wished you could listen to your music to drown out the silence with the occasional bursts of screaming but you knew it was too dangerous, you had to be alert at all times.

As night started to fall, it began pouring with rain and even through your hooded jacket, you were soaked through. You ran towards some shelter as fast as you could, you ended up finding an abandoned church and slipped inside the door as quietly as you could.

Being careful to avoid the puddle from the hole in the roof and the massive hole in the floor, you made your way to one of the pews and finally rested.

Sleep didn’t come easy for you that night, but you managed to get maybe a couple of hours, better than nothing, you supposed.

In the morning, you looked over your map to find the best route to South Street. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you knew it had to be done, even with the number of blisters you’d gotten on your feet from walking so much the day before.

Sliding off your shoes, you assessed the damage and wondered if you should trek out to find a pharmacy to get some band aids but just as you were about to put your shoes back on, you heard a commotion from the hole in the floor, with two people climbing out of it.

You froze as you slowly made your way over towards them, your heart pounding in your ears as you saw Eric. You couldn’t quite believe your eyes as you got down onto your knees next to Eric’s head, a shaky hand on his shoulder.

His eyes opened and instantly locked with yours, slowly getting up to embrace you, even if he was soaking wet. You tried your best not to cry but after everything you’d both been through, you couldn’t hold your emotions back and neither could he; you both held each other and cried quietly.

Eric refused to let you go, and you refused to let him go – even for a second. You slept together wrapped up in each other’s arms that night, finally getting some decent sleep at last.

In the morning, you could tell Sam wasn’t doing well and both you and Eric offered to go get her medication, Eric refusing to let you go. Reluctantly, you allowed him to go but not without giving him a kiss on his cheek, a silent promise that you’d see each other again.

You stayed with Sam, initially playing tic-tac-toe together but eventually getting to talk about each other’s lives before everything went down. Went to school together, had a massive crush on him you wrote on the notebook, causing both of you to laugh silently.

“He talked about you a couple times,” Sam whispered. “Always wanted to find you, now it makes sense why.”

You weren’t entirely sure what that meant, but in your heart you hoped it meant that he felt the same way about you. You kicked yourself for letting him go with just a kiss on the cheek and not a proper love confession, just more reasons to make sure he came back safely with Frodo in tow.

The four of you stayed in the church until the next morning, deciding to venture out to find Patsy’s. You and Eric never let go of each other’s hands, not for a single second.

But when you were out in the open, you’d knocked over an abandoned suitcase, the sound echoing throughout the silent streets. All four of you froze for a moment, before you knew you had to lead the monsters away to give Eric and Sam a chance.

Pressing a kiss to Eric’s lips, you pushed him away and sprinted away in another direction, screaming as much as you could to draw them towards you. It didn’t even fully occur to you that you could die in the process, but as long as Sam, Frodo and Eric made it out, that’s all you cared about.

That was the last time Eric saw you, saving his life. And all he could think about in that moment was how much time he’d wasted not telling you how he felt. And now, you were gone.

By the time Eric got onto the final boat with Frodo, he finally allowed himself to cry, to mourn over the loss of both you and Sam. At least he still had Frodo to comfort him, he closed his eyes and just stopped to listen to the purring cat in his arms until it jumped out of them. His eyes opened instantly, feeling himself on the verge of a panic attack as he looked around for that black and white cat.

Until he saw him at someone’s feet, his eyes filled with tears, clouding his vision but he could tell the person was walking towards him. Wiping away his tears, he got a good look at the person. He blinked several times, not quite believing his eyes.

It was you.

Battered and bruised, a long cut down the left side of your face, but still you.

You smiled once Eric noticed you, the cut across your face contorting a little so it almost looked like a half grimace. You took a seat next to him, handing back Frodo. “Hi,” you said, your voice a little croaky after not being used in what seemed like forever.

“Hey,” he said back, his voice just as croaky. “I thought I’d lost you, too.”

You shook your head, petting Frodo. “I was almost a goner,” you pointed to your face. “But I got saved at the last second, I don’t even remember by who. I thought I’d died, but my face hurt too much. Couldn’t even see out of my left eye at first, but I knew I had to get to here.”

“You still look beautiful,” he moved a stray hair away from your face, not even flinching like most people did at seeing your cut.

You pulled a face, letting out a small hiss in pain as you forgot the cut for a moment before you rested your head on his shoulder. “So what happens now?”

Eric sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I don’t know, but one thing I know for sure; I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head once again. “Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got all I want right here; I have you and we have Frodo.”

“Good. Even then, I’ll follow you wherever you wanna go,” he whispered, capturing your lips with his in a gentle kiss.

[oswildin]

i’d wanna be next to you (loki x g!n reader)

Summary: Loki made a vow that he would savour every single moment with you. (Inspired by ‘Die With A Smile’ by Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars) - Fluffy, romantic, cute??

A/N: AU where Loki didn’t die in Infinity War but came close. Drabbleish? Idk, but it’s not that long lmao. No descriptors for reader.

Rating: All ages/SFW

LOKI MASTERLIST

I just woke up from a dream

Where you and I had to say goodbye

And I don't know what it all means

But since I survived, I realized

Loki awoke with a start, heart beating frantically in his chest as he sat up in his bed, the silence in his room almost piercing. He let out a heavy breath, a sigh almost, a hand running through his raven curls as he grounded himself to the moment, to his surroundings. He was in his room in New Asgard… His blue eyes flickered to the mattress beside him, seeing your form sleeping peacefully… Alive. Breathing. Unharmed.

Relief filled him, his panic slowly ebbing as he closed his eyes for a second to compose. It had been three years since… everything. Three years since half the universe was snapped away at the hands of Thanos… Three years since Loki almost… The God swallowed, brows pinching together faintly as the memories flashed through his mind. His dreams were almost just as vivid… He often had nightmares of the event, over and over, yet with each one there was a small difference. If it wasn’t him dying, it was Thor… If it wasn’t Thor… It was you. The fear of losing you… It could sometimes be too much to bear.

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow

Nobody's promised tomorrow

So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night

Like it's the last night

After a few moments, Loki slowly shifted, careful not to disturb you as he nestled closer, your back against his chest, his arm draped gently over your waist as he held you. His face buried itself into your neck, taking in your comforting warmth, your scent, your everything… Reminding himself that you were okay. That you were alive. He felt you shift faintly, a soft sigh leaving you as he felt your hand rest over his around your front.

“You okay?” He heard you mumble sleepily, clearly sensing something was amiss. You always knew. He could never lie to you - a rare feat indeed. He didn’t reply straight away, savouring the quiet, the peace… He let out a quiet ‘hmm’ against your skin, his hold tightening on you ever so slightly. “Sure?” You whispered, thumb brushing against his cooler, pale hand. You knew of his dreams, he wouldn’t tell you all the details, but you knew enough to know that it still affected him - well, of course it would.

“As long as you’re here, I’m always okay.” He murmured quietly, his lips brushing your neck.

If the world was ending

I'd wanna be next to you

If the party was over

And our time on Earth was through

I'd wanna hold you just for a while

And die with a smile

You allowed him the comfort of holding you, feeling his chest rising and falling gently against your back, his breaths against your skin. Minutes passed before you finally shuffled under the sheets, turning in his embrace to be able to face him. In the dim light, Loki’s gaze was soft, his features also soft, everything about him was soft… Especially, when it came to you.

After his near death, the snap… He was reminded how… mortal he really was, how easily his light could be snuffed out. Regret. That was what he had felt, knowing he could’ve done things differently, not been so cold or angry… Envious. It was different to when he fell from the Bifrost, it was a different kind of fear… And he realised it was because when Thanos’ hand was around his neck… He realised he wanted to live. He wanted to finally have the sun shine on him. He still struggled, but after those days, he vowed he would savour every moment he got. Gods lived so long but truly valued very little. Not anymore. He never failed to tell you how he felt about you, knowing now that life was far too precious, too short… Especially for you, a mortal.

And nobody was promised tomorrow.

Ooh, lost, lost in the words that we scream

I don't even wanna do this anymore

'Cause you already know what you mean to me

And our love's the only one worth fighting for

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Loki breathed out, feeling your fingers brush a stray curl from his forehead, his arm still holding you close.

“It’s okay.” You assured him softly, thumb caressing his cheekbone lightly before your hand moved to cup his jaw. You knew it was another dream. “Who needs sleep anyway?” You asked playfully, trying to lighten his spirits. You could see his lips tug upwards ever so slightly in the dim light, a soft huff of amusement leaving his nose.

“Mortals.” He replied wryly, making you hum in agreement. “And certain Gods who enjoy sleeping next to said mortals.” He added, a hint of his usual mirth returning.

“Well, I do hope that when it comes to one God, it’s only one specific mortal he enjoys sleeping next to…” You teased. “Otherwise that one specific mortal may be a little upset.” You couldn’t help but let your own lips curl upwards gently, Loki letting out a brief, very quiet laugh.

“You are correct… there is only one specific mortal that this God enjoys sleeping next to.” He confirmed playfully, voice full of warmth in the hushed intimacy between you. “Even when they snore- Ow!” You tugged at his earlobe lightly with the hand that had been cupping his jaw, laughing breathily. “I believe you just assaulted the King’s favourite advisor.” He quipped, feigning a chiding tone.

“Val would support it.” You argued, shrugging faintly - well, the best you could in the embrace you were both in. Loki let out an unconvinced hum. “And favourite advisor? You’re her only advisor.”

“For very good reason.” Loki leaned closer. “Because I’m her favourite.” He whispered, as if sharing a secret before he let his nose brush against yours faintly.

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow

Nobody's promised tomorrow

So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night

Like it's the last night

“I love you, Loki Odinson.” You whispered, matching his softness. It never failed to make Loki’s heart skip and swell as those words left your lips. Every time. To be loved… Wholly and completely… Unconditionally… It was something he still didn’t believe he deserved. But it was something he would always cling to, especially in the darkness that had encompassed the world, the universe, in the last three years… The darkness that had threatened to drag him back many a times.

“And I love you.” Loki breathed, your faces mere inches from one another. “More than you can ever imagine.” His words were truthful, utterly honest and heartfelt… from a God who once wove lies and lived in deceit… With you, he found his truth.

After a few seconds, Loki placed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, before his hand moved to cradle the back of your head, arms tightening around you to pull you even closer. Your own arm wrapped around him, burying your face into his chest, breathing him in. He was your hope in the darkness, just as you were his. And whilst you both knew the end was inevitable, that heartbreak was inevitable being a mortal and a God… You couldn’t help but smile. Because if the world was ending…

I'd wanna be next to you

[gilverrwrites]

I don't fall, I fly.

⇐⇐⇐ Chapter [2/?] ⇒⇒⇒

Circus playboy [AU], Dick Grayson/Reader, 6.7K words AN: SMUT, WHOLE LOTTA SMUT! This took longer than I'd hoped, but I hope ya'll enjoy it regardless ♥︎ Anon Joey, I promise I forgot I named a character Joey in this story I swear this was not meant to be any kind of representation of you lmao Warnings: Swearing | teasing | pre-mature ejaculation | lying and manipulation | denial 

Joey is a sturdy-looking guy with a skinhead and a stubbly beard. When you tell him you’re there ‘for Dick’ he licks his lips and flits his eyes between you and your bestie with a suggestive wiggle to his brows.

“You?” He grunts, pointing from behind the plexiglass. “Or them?”

“Um, me?” You’re not sure exactly what he’s asking but you presume you are the right answer.

He tears your tickets off the reel, but when you reach into the opening to take them from him, he grasps your hand in his meaty one and scrawls ‘DG’ on the back of it in black sharpie before letting you go with the orange slips.

“Shows at 6.30. You wanna head straight up that way, turn right at the main entrance, Marty will let you through the second entry. There's plenty of food carts on the way if you’re hungry but you gotta pay for 'em.” He gestures each direction with two fingers before sending you off with a wink. “Have a good night, peeps.”

“D-G? Are you like, officially a groupie now?” Your friend questions you jokingly over mouthfuls of shared candyfloss moments later. Since inviting them along you’d filled them in on the events of Tuesday afternoon.

“I guess.” You shrug, looking at the lights, breathing in the smell of popcorn, listening to the thrum of the crowd. You hadn’t been to a circus in years, so this is like a nostalgia trip. You’re enjoying yourself to much to really care about being branded with a marker. It was weird, no doubt, but a small price to pay for what would hopefully be a good show. “Hope it’s worth it.”

You’re too lost in conversation to realise it straight away but the further you walk, the smaller the crowd grows until eventually the only people around seem to be cast and crew.

“Maybe we missed it?” Your friend suggests when you finally notice.

You’re about to turn tail when you hear a familiar voice call out over the distant buzz of spectators. “Hey, it’s you!”

“Oh, hi!” Warmth immediately graces your cheeks as you watch Dick approach with long strides and open arms. 

“You made it, awesome.” He grins, his hands are already on you, fingers snaking down your back to settle snuggly on your hip. He looks starkly different, but just as captivating as when you’d first met. His tight blue leotard is partly covered by an open hoodie that still shows off his shapely pecks. His hair is slicked back, and he literally sparkles under the string lights that line the big top. You’re so focused on the glitter that adorns his skin that you almost forget where you are until he prompts; “Whose your friend?”

“Oh-“ You follow his gaze, eyes strolling over his broad shoulders, along his other arm which is conveniently hanging over your bestie's shoulder. You’re almost envious as they take over introducing themselves. 

Your time with Dick before the show is understandably short, but sweet. You hadn’t taken a wrong turn, as made apparent when he walks the two of you to the performer's entrance, bypassing Marty and telling you how to find your seats.

“When the lights go up, and Haly leaves the ring, come back this way and I’ll show you around backstage.” Dick tells you with a wink, dipping out before you can even consider declining his offer.

“He’s gonna show you his mini me.” Your friend laughs, wiggling their finger as you climb the steps to your seats. “Lil Dick, ya know.”

“Shut up.” You reply with a grin you can’t shake. Unable to deny that they’re probably right, and if he does, you’re most certainly not going to stop him.

“Whatever.” They continue. “Thanks for the ticket, but I’m not hanging around while you get dicked down, you good getting home alone?”

The lights come down as they ask their question, and your eyes excitedly lock onto the ring as you whisper back. “Sure, but don’t you wanna see the backstage stuff?”

“No, I don’t want to third wheel the pretence of your hookup.” They answer deadpan and though you’re a little disappointed for them, you’re mostly relieved that should anything happen between you a Dick, you won’t have to worry about ditching your bestie.

Had you actually paid to watch the show, you’d say it was worth every penny. The Ringmaster, Haly really knows how to build a show, the clowns aren’t too scary, and the whole thing is jam-packed with ‘spectacular acts’ as promised by the flyers. The firebreather in particular was memorising. The true showstopper, however, was The Flying Grayson. He sails and twists through the air, shining under the spotlights as he performs death-defying after death-defying stunt. It’s easy to see why he’s the headliner. Towards the end of his performance, Dick waves at the crowd, showboating and encouraging them to cheer louder, and finally blowing a kiss before swinging out on the trapeze.

Your friend fake swoons when they notice how you’ve leaned forward in awe to watch, and the teasing persists right up until you’re saying your goodbyes after the show.

You feel like such a rebel as you slink through the crowd, sneaking away to the performer's entrance once more, looking over your shoulders periodically until your eyes finally lock onto Dick. He doesn’t spot you straight away, eyes pensively focused on something off in the distance while he kicks his feet, and brushes the gel from his hair with his fingers, but eventually, he turns to see you and it’s like flicking on a light switch, the way his face shifts into that sunny smile. His arm easily drapes over your shoulder once more as you approach, and you just as easily melt into his side, allowing him to drag you off to God knows where.

Dick likes this bit, even the cager girls unknowingly become a little more malleable, a little star-struck after watching his routine, and you’re no exception. It’s too easy to fall under his spell, and you’re all too aware of it. No matter what wonders he shows you, or who he introduces to you, your eyes rarely leave his form, and he basks in the attention.

“This is cute.” He mentions, pulling at your skirt and stepping close enough that you can smell his sweat beneath his rich, sweet cologne.

“Thanks.” You feel flushed immediately under his roaming gaze. He’s clearly using it as a guise to get closer to you, but you have some spunk in you yet. “I like this.”

You snap the taut strap of his leotard, he fakes a yelp and a pout.

“Ouch.” His nose brushes yours, stray hairs tickling your forehead as he leans down. “You might need to kiss that better.”

You run your finger under the strap once more, pulling it aside and baring his toned muscles. You playfully hum in consideration before pulling the sleeve back into place and looking him in the eye. “Maybe later. If its bruised.”

“Later?” He quirks a brow as you step back, content to make him work a little more for it.

“Later.” You confirm. “After the tour.”

He stares you down with his deep blue eyes, and you think you might break until he finally sighs, yielding to your demands with a complacent grin.

It’s not until he’s holding your hand as he guides you through a myriad of caravans that you finally think to ask; “By the way, what is this?”

You wriggle your hand out of his to show him the Sharpie mark you’re hoping you can scrub out in the shower before your shift tomorrow morning.

“Oh, that.” He takes your hand once more, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it, looking very nonchalant. “If I wasn’t there, it’s just to show Marty that you’re on my guest list.”

You’re not convinced. “Can’t you just have Joey write it on the tickets of something?”

“Nah.” He shrugs, but there’s a hint of mirth in his tone that has you doubting him. “Were not supposed to save seats or let people in though the performer's entrance. When you leave, you take the evidence with you.”

Suspicious. Very suspicious.

What he neglected to mention is that, of course, the entertainers’ are allowed guests and reserved seating, it’s only Dick who's on a tight lead because he does it too often.

Before you can voice your doubts, however, Dick stops in his tracks, tapping his free hand on the trailer beside him and turning his whole body to you with a coy look. “Last stop, home sweet home.”

Home sweet home is strangely whimsical for an average sized mobile home. It has lights around the roof and painting, old and new decaled onto the metal exterior. One piece in particular grabs your attention. 

“The Flying Graysons? Theres more of you?” You ask earnestly and Dick steps beside you to follow your eyeline, dropping your hand in favour of stretching his arm across your shoulder and leading you to lean into his chest.

“There was.” He answers quietly, eyes remaining focused on the image even when you angle your head to watch him. “My parents. Kind of a family business, you know?”

“They must be proud of you. You’re amazing.”

He smiles as he looks down at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I hope so.” He sounds glum. Clearly, you’re not privy to something and it isn’t your place to pry so you decide not to push the subject when he moves it along. “Do you want to come inside?” 

“Yes!” You’d known the invitation was coming, but you don’t think to mask your enthusiasm at all, happily following him inside, taking your shoes and socks off at the door as requested, and allowing him to hang up your jacket. “I can’t stay though, I have a shift early in the morning.”

“That’s fine.” Dick hates when they stay over anyway. “We rehearse pretty early too.”

Inside, you notice an array of protein powers along his kitchen counter, and a stack of old records piled up beside an even older-looking couch. That’s the entire extent of any interior features you have time to examine before his lips are on yours.

You gasp when you first feel his soft lips on yours. You’d expected forwardness, but damn he moves fast; almost enrapturing you with his minty-sweet lips and feather-light touches until you feel your back hit what is presumably the door to his bedroom.

“Ahhh.” You can’t help stuttering as you pull away, captivated briefly by the sensually blissed-out look on his face as he chases your lips, settling for sucking and nipping at your throat when you turn your face away from him. “Fast!”

He stops at your objection, his whole body freezing but for his fingertips which have already crept beneath the waist of your skirt to teasingly massage your lower back. “Do you want stop?” He sounds confused.

“No.” You answer decisively, shivering when you feel his breath deliberately brushing against the sweet spot in the crook of your neck, fanning the fire that’s currently simmering between your thighs. You were into it, his speed had just caught you off guard and you need a moment to collect yourself. “Just, slow down a bit. Show me around first?”

“You know this is a one-night thing, right?” He scolds himself internally for snapping, it’s not an unreasonable request. There's just something about the sweet smell of your perfume, the taste of your lips, and that damn skirt. He’s been dying to get you here all night, and you’re so close. But now you’re pouting and narrowing your eyes and while he’d love to fuck the admittedly adorable petulance out of you, he knows his chances are rapidly depleting.

“Sorry, sorry.” He lets go of you, throwing his hands up in surrender and turning on his best, most charmingly sheepish smile. “I just haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met the other day. I’m getting too excited.”

His shoulders sag. Scratching the back of his head as he steps further into his living space. He knows he’s winning you over because your expression softens.

“That’s the kitchen, and this is the living room.” He gestures to the two sides of the open space.

“That room back there was my bedroom when I was a kid, but now it’s just storage. Old suits, photos, stuff I don’t want to get rid of.” He points to the door at the other end of the trailer before turning back to the door you’re currently still resting against. “Bed and bath are through there.”

You chew your lips as you turn to look at it, fingers tracing the hard plastic until you find the handle and gently open it. Dick leads the way, stepping around you and into the small space. He fiddles with the switches on the wall until the room lights up and it is very much what you’d imagined. Mostly it’s an extension of the outside, the light source is yet another sting of lights despite the bulb that hangs from the ceiling. Posters, photos, and souvenirs from all over the world line the walls.

“I’m sorry there isn’t more to see.” He offers as you follow him in, unconsciously wrapping your arms around his waist and melting into him as you approach. There isn’t much space for the both of you to stand, almost all of it is taken up by the dresser and the bed which is lined with blue sheets, and literal notches in the wooden headboard.

“I think there’s plenty to see.” You comment, nodding at his abused bedframe and he laughs but doesn’t deny the implication.

“It’s getting late.” He points out, and you know what he’s really getting at. There’s no more to show you, it’s now or never.

Feeling bold you slide two fingers under his sleeve once more, slowly brushing it from his shoulder to expose his unblemished skin. He watches every move half-lidded and unshakingly as you press your lips to the spot you’d snapped earlier until his fingers splay across the back of your head, tilting you to face him once you’re done kissing his non-existent wound so he can draw you back to his mouth.

As if he’d taken your prior hesitations to heart, he kisses you slowly this time. Cupping you with warm hands as he tenderly works his plump lips against your own in a series of deep, ardent kisses that you hadn’t expected from him. It’s you who takes things further, quickly getting lost in his embrace. You part your lips, only half fighting for dominance before you concede and allow his tongue to explore unimpeached until he starts to paw at your hips, pulling you close to him so he can grind his compressed arousal against you.

Teasingly slow, you dust your fingers across his chest, dragging your fingertips downward along his spandex suit until he firmly takes your wrist in his hand. You pull back from the kiss to take in his heated expression. You have no idea what you’re doing to him with your blown-out eyes and open mouth. Impatiently, he directs you half a step back, until your knees give against his mattress, and you drop down. Exactly where he wants you, he releases your hand, and you continue your slow veneration of his body until you settle your hand on his bulge. Your touch sends a shockwave through his body that has him bucking his hips in an instant.

He definitely made a good choice picking you, he thinks as he takes a moment to admire your form. You’re so fucking pretty, looking up at him from the edge of his bed, biting your spit-glossed lips while he grinds against your eager hand. He’s pressing hard enough that you have to make an effort to keep your hand in place, partly from desperation, partly because the pressure is needed to be felt through his dance belt.

Not content with the current state of things, Dick is quick to start undressing. His clothes are barely around his ankles before you wrap your hand around his shaft. You’re not sure what you’d been expecting but you’re pleasantly surprised by his uncut cock and intentional hairlessness. There's already a drop of precum on his tip and your mouth practically waters as you lean forward to taste him only to feel long fingers curling into your hair.

“No no no, not yet.” Dick pleads beneath his breath, holding you still by your roots and watching you with fire in his eyes. He bites the corner of his lip, tilting his head as he thrusts languidly into your open hand. “Use your hands for a bit longer.”

This is his favourite part. The fucking is always good, and he’s hungry to find the position that will make you call his name over and over again, begging for an encore, but there’s something so erotic about this bit that drives him crazy. Doesn’t matter how many girls he brings back here, he’ll never get enough of seeing them work his cock in their marked hands. Right now, you’re already claimed by his initials, by the trail of swollen little bitemarks he’s traced down your neck, but by the time he’s done with you, you’ll be completely ruined. Inside and out, totally smothered by him.

You’re not exactly sure what’s going on in his head but damn he’s hot you think as you watch him from below. He hadn’t kept the body glitter to his just his arms. Under the warm light of his bedroom, his whole body shimmers, extenuating his toned, lean muscles. Stray pieces of dark hair fall to frame his fevered expression. His deep blue eyes are squinted intensely and he’s biting down on his tongue as he watches you work your hand along his length.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” You can’t help but speak your mind, and he looks down at you puzzled for a moment, clearly not expecting your compliment, but eventually smiling genuinely at you in response, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

No matter how much praise Dick hears, he’ll never get enough. God, and you mean it too, he can tell by your wide eyes, by that little smile you can't bite back, by how you’re watching him religiously. Fuck. He’s gonna need 5 more of you.

Another, sizable bead of precum spills from his head, it drips from his length, trickling down your arm and before either of you can process it, you dip down, not once breaking eye contact as you soak up every drop, slowly lick it up from your hand, working your way up his cock.

Neither of you see it coming, but your little show of debauched worship has Dick's whole body twitching. He tries so hard to hold it back, but as soon as your lips part over his crown to drink up any remnants of pre, he instantly starts shooting the real thing into your open mouth. Cursing through his climax, suddenly grabbing your head and holding you in place as ropes of hot, sticky cum hit your tongue.

“Shit, shit shitshitshit.” He mutters, averting his gaze when your brows raise at him in surprise. “Shit, never happened before. I’m sorry.”

His knees buckle at the intensity of his climax, causing him to lurch forward. The last of his cum dribbling directly into the back of your throat before he stops altogether. Drops of the fluid spill back out of your mouth when he wrenches back from you, the speed at which causing your body to sting with rejection as he hurries from the room, locking himself in what must be the bathroom.

“Diik- wouate.” You try to call after him, mouth still dripping with his cum. Before following you rapidly search the room for a box of tissues or a waste bin to spit into, when you find nothing, you bite the bullet and swallow, cringing at the taste and the metallicness it leaves on your tastebuds before you head over and knock on the door, once, then once again but he doesn’t answer. You can hear him moving around, hear his hushed voice presumably talking to himself. “Dick, are you okay?”

When he still doesn’t reply you continue, choosing your words carefully. “It- it’s okay. It’s normal. Could happen to anyone really.”

It’s not okay. It could happen to anyone, but not him, he’s not anyone.

“It kinda makes me feel good about myself actually.” You’re not sure if this is going to help or make things worse. “You know? Hand job so good I made you pop before… yeah.”

Your awkward laugh falls on deaf ears. Good for you, he thinks bitterly. Thankful when he hears your footsteps retract, he listens intently as you slowly make your way through his trailer. Relieved when you stop in his cramped kitchen space. He’s not ready to face you just yet, but he’s certainly not done with you either.

He’s not sure how long he spends in front of the mirror, trying to ease his embarrassment, to pep talk his cock into getting hard again, but seemingly it’s long enough that you get tired of waiting. God, this is a disaster. He has to turn this around he decides as you knock once more and announce that you’re leaving. Now, or live knowing that you’re the one who got away. If he can’t fuck you tonight, then he has to ensure you’ll come back before the show moves to its next location so he can prove himself.

“Don’t go yet.” He says as he finally opens the door, displeased to see your sock and jacket have made a return. If anybody asked, the shrillness of his voice was intentional, part of his plea to make you stay a bit longer. “We can still do other things.”

You’re sceptical, it’s evident from the frown on your face and the way your eyes flick between him and the door. Dick does not like that at all.

“Come on, girly.” He urges, turning the charm back up as he leans in closer, gathering the fabric of your top in his fist and using it to tug you the last few inches until you’re chest to chest. Already your skin is starting to tingle again, excitement curling in your guts as he brushes his cheek against yours, pressing fresh kisses to your skin as he works his way to your lips.

Deep blue eyes bore into yours, begging you for permission and you easily crack under his gaze, stretching up on your toes to initiate a kiss so heated it’s like you’d never stopped. How he turns it on and off so easily should be studied, you swear. He doesn’t tease this time, only pulling away from your lips long enough to pull your top and coat off. He unclips your bra with a speed you only possess on your best days before lifting you by your ass and hauling you the 4 feet to his bed.

Once your back hits the mattress he leans back to look at you, his hands clutching onto your thighs, causing your skirt to ride up and giving him a spectacular view of your damp panties. Instinctively your hand darts down to cover up, but he latches onto your wrist, guiding it to his mouth where he plants chaste kisses to your knuckles as he looks you up and down, over and over.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He repeats your earlier reverence, taking a few more seconds to admire your body before letting you go and dipping down to trail more kisses up your stomach, his calloused fingers cupping your breasts, squeezing as he draws closer. “We should make you the main event.”

“What a fucking line.” You quip, but the look of adoration on his face never wavers and you start to grow bashful under it. Averting your gaze until you feel his tongue on your chest.

“I mean it.” His speech is slurred as he draws circles on your bosom with his spit, you’re on edge as he grows closer and closer to your nipple but never hits the target. If that wasn’t enough to make you lightheaded, Dick pushes the weight of his thigh between your legs, eyes still trained on every little movement you make as his knee shimmies against your heat. “You’re gonna be the prettiest notch on my bedpost.”  

He's so smooth, even the glib reminder that this is just casual sex makes you feel flushed. 

“W… ” Your response to him is hampered when he finally fixes his mouth over one of your nipples, his hard fingers pinching down on the other until you arch your back, pressing yourself deeper into him.  The inadvertent pressure on your clothed cunt making you moan aloud.

“You gonna say something, pretty girl?” He gently holds your nip between his teeth as he talks, blowing his hot breath against the sensitive bud.

“Fu- fuck you’re good at this.” You breathe, eyes rolling back as he starts to bounce his legs, eyes narrowing smugly at your praise. “W-was gonna ask where you got that sharp tongue fr-from?”

Dick smiles around your bud once more before drawing it in for once last, torturing suck and releasing it when a wet pop.

“Oh, you like it, do you?” He drags the tongue in question between the crevice of your breasts before working it leisurely up your throat and into your open mouth where you weakly knead it with your own, too focused on the way Dick has worked his knee up onto your clothed groin, pulling your panties taut between your folds in the process. It hurts, but in a way that has you desperate for more. You almost don’t notice when he retracts his mouth to murmur in your ear. “You’re already shuddering and we’re not even at the best part yet.”

“Will we get there soon?” You roll your hips, meeting the tweaking of his leg and he grins at your enthusiasm. You’d thought your skin ablaze until Dick rakes his nails down your torso, igniting more fervour in his wake until he finds the waistband of your skirt and panties.

“Oh yes.” As he speaks, he sits back on his knees, taking your clothes with him. He can’t help the way his jaw relaxes at the sight of your exposed pussy, wishing he was hard enough to plunge right into your dripping hole. But watching you, as beautifully depraved as you are, come apart even more from his hands and mouth is a more than satisfactory consolidation prize. And if he sticks the landing, he’s sure he can win you back here for a second performance. “Just stay still and lovely like you are, an’ let me make you feel real good.”

He runs his pointer finger between your folds, brushing your clit gently before delving straight for your entrance. He slips right in, down to the knuckle with no friction at all and your cover your face, mortified by the wet squelching noise your pussy makes as he twists and turns his finger inside you, tightening the coil in your centre. When he withdraws you peek through your hands, watching the wicked grin on his face as he examines the string of wetness that follows, snapping a few inches above your sex. 

“You’re so messy, baby.” He purrs, dipping back in to spread your wetness around, rubbing two fingers against your clit until you start to moan aloud. “I love it.”

Gradually he teases the two fingers into your entrance, the added digit causing more stretch than the last time. You can’t help clenching and whining, especially when he uses his other hand to caress your clit once more. “Oh fuck, Dick. I think I’m gonna…”

“Already? That was easy. I haven’t even tasted you yet.” Despite his teasing, your quiet neediness is making him fucking feral on the inside. Hurrying your orgasm along, he drives a third finger into you, biting his lip, grunting and goading as he watches you come undone. “Go on then. Cum on my fingers baby, make an even bigger mess.”

As if on command you do exactly that. Dick can barely decide where to look; your preciously scrunched-up face, your chest which is jutted out and shaking due to your arched back and heavy breathing, or your greedy little pussy as its walls clasp around his digits, sucking him in as you spill onto his palm.

As soon as he’s certain he’s ridden you through your climax, he pulls his fingers from you and your whole body jolts at the resistance. He checks that you’re watching him through your foggy, post-nut daze as he proceeds to lick and suck his hand clean.

You moan at the way his loud, pornographic enjoyment of your juices revives your libido. It’s really not fair that you should be ready to go again so soon, while he’s unable. You can only imagine how good it would feel to have his cock buried inside you right now, but you don’t want to press the sore subject. Instead, you move your trembling body, enjoying the perplexed but amused look on Dicks face as you climb closer to him.

“Want to kiss you.” You inform him, startled by your own breathlessness.

“You’re cute.” Dick patronises, finishing licking up his middle finger before reaching out and clasping his moist hand around your neck. “Come kiss me then.”

He squeezes just tight enough to send a chill down your spine as he pulls you closer, locking you into a short but heated kiss, eagerly sharing the taste of your bittersweet ejaculation. When you pull back to breathe, he pushes on your chest and you fall back against his sheets once more, your eyes zeroing in on the vintage stickers that lace his ceiling as you try to calm your sudden headrush.

At the same time, Dick drops off the bed, kneeling on the floor. Just when you’re coming to, he grips your hips, pulling you to the mattress's edge until you’re close enough to feel his breath in your sensitive core. 

“Not done with you yet.” He laughs, the extra air on your folds making your toes curl. “Still gotta give this sharp tongue a firsthand taste.”

Before you can protest, not that you really would if you could, Dick practically dives, mouth first into your folds. The moment his hot tongue grazes your already tender clit you jerk, bucking your lower body away from the salacious intrusion but Dick swiftly follows, not letting up for a second as his arms loop over your stomach, fingers digging into your hips and forcing you back down. 

“Don’t fight it, you’re gonna feel so good.” He murmurs, tongue still working between your twitching folds, mouth twisted into a wickedly obscene version of a smile before he latches his lips around your bud. Moaning loudly and closing his eyes as he savours the taste of your slit. He’d called you messy, but within a few minutes of working you with his tongue, his chin and neck are drenched with saliva. He can’t help it, you taste so deliciously bittersweet, he can’t get enough, and the cherries on top are the beautiful, sinful little sounds you can’t choke back.  

Overwhelmed and shaking, you reach down and hook your fingers in his thick dark hair, pulling it tight in an attempt to ground yourself but it does nothing to dampen the waves of pleasure that pulsate through your body. Very quickly the pull of your hips increases tenfold, your face squeezing tight, and Dick knows you’re about to cum again.

The only thing sweeter than your needy little pussy is the tortured wail you release as he shimmies down your folds, leaving your clit unstimulated in favour of stuffing his tongue into your tight hole just before you topple over the edge. At the intrusion, your walls convulse around him, forcefully throbbing around him despite the betrayed, wet-eyed look you’re giving him. Oh, you are so coming back, and he is going enjoy fucking that sullen look off your face while you milk his cock for all its worth.

“What’s that look for?” Dick asks, taking his tongue out of your folds and nuzzling into your inner thigh, intent to prologue his teasing just a little longer. You gasp when you see the collection of slick on his face, shocked and aroused by the muddle of fluids. Between that and your hopeless need for him to finish what he’d started, you can barely comprehend him speaking to you. “Do you want something, baby?”

“Please…” You start, barely able to string your words together. Feeling more and more frustrated as Dick shakes his head at you, grazing your folds with his cheek as he does so.

“Please what? Come on, you can do better than that.” His encouragement only vexes you more. 

“Please let me cum, Dick! I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” The look that overwhelms his handsome features should put fear into your heart, but all it really does is make you ache for his touch even more. “Will you come back here on Saturday night and let me use this pretty pussy all night long?”

“Yes!” You don’t even hesitate, anything to feel his mouth on you again. Your lack of inhibitions works though. Dick immediately compensates you by twisting his tongue into your slit again, lapping and sucking at your sweet spot, fervid and hungry. Intense blue eyes locked closely on your every move as he swiftly falls into a rhythm that has you right on the edge in no time, the denial only having heightened your sensitivity. 

His grip on you remains steadfast, supporting your wild movements as your legs buckle and wrap tight around his neck, squeezing him as you wither and reel against him. He swallows every drop of your release, gulping it down, his groans of appreciation loud and explicit enough to rival your own. Goddamn. You can’t recall a time anybody ate you out with as much shameless passion and he keeps going until your body falls heavy and slack.

“How’s that for taming your pussy?” He remarks, ego pouring from every syllable but you’re too out of it to care. Body completely jellified, head empty, unable to think of a witty comeback. You lay still but for the rapid rise and fall of your chest as Dick crawl up your body, goading you once more. “Too effective?”

Again, you’re too preoccupied to care as he leans in to brush his lips along your nose. You’re vaguely aware of his arm moving beside the bed, but you’ve no thought or motivation to care as you soak in his attention, chasing him until your lips find his, joining into an equally smiley kiss that is laced in your juices.

“Here,” he says as he ends the kiss, pulling a handtowel from somewhere? And dropping it on your chest. Presumably, that’s what he’d been fiddling for. “You remember how to clean yourself, right?”

“Oh, shut up, Dick-head.” At last, you find your voice, Dick having egged you a bit too much. Playful you throw the towel back at him as he makes to stand, but he easily catches it and drops it between your legs.

“Okay, okay.” To emphasise his surrender, Dick holds his palms into the air as he backs away, you’re not expecting him to leave the room entirely however until he’s gone.

Unsure how to respond, you sit up and grab the towel, cleaning off. He isn’t gone for long though, returning a moment later with a glass of water, grabbing your discarded clothes from the floor and tossing them toward you as he approached.

“It’s getting cold out, probably.” He comments, placing the cup down beside you and beginning to rummage around in his drawers. He finds and pulls on a pair of joggers as you too begin to redress. “You wanna borrow a thicker jacket? Swap them back on Saturday?”

“Oh, about that.” His head snaps to you, brows creased. Bar the concentration on his face as he’d sailed through the air during his performance earlier, this is the closest you’ve seen him to looking serious and even though he’d clearly been trying to get rid of you only seconds ago, you feel bad for what you’re about say. “I can’t come on Saturday.”

His annoyance is evident, face falling even more as he stares at you. 

“I can do tomorrow though?” You offer, but that’s no good to him. Fridays are the big night, Haly likes him to schmooze the VIPs, and he can manage that while he’s thinking about bouncing you on his cock, but it if you’re actually there the temptation to sneak off and make good on his fantasies would be too great. “Saturday night I have a thing.”

“A ‘thing’? Like a date?” Oft. Dick can hear how he sounds, totally pissed, maybe even a little jealous. He’s not. He can sympathise with the fact that you got caught up in the height of the moment, only God knows how many promises he’d made in the throes of lovemaking that he’d never intended on keeping but he was so sure he’d hooked you around his finger. He needed you to be. Need you to come back so he can finish the job.

“No, nothing like that. It’s a family thing.” Your attempt to consol might have seemed more genuine were your skirt not hiked up around your stomach. You’d redressed completely but for your underwear which you were now fruitlessly searching for.

“What time does it start?” Dick sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out across the small space to grab your hand and pull you closer.

“5.30” You answer, allowing him to pull you to him. You straddle his lap, instinctively draping your arms over his shoulders. When you’re face to face, he cracks a smile, you’re starting to recognise this specific grin, with its sparkly teeth and crinkled eye. It’s the smile he’d given you when you’d first crossed paths, and later when he’d invited you to his show. This is the smile he gives you when he wants something.

“Come to the matinee then.” He instructs, angling his knees up until you fall further into him, allowing him access to ghost soft little kisses to your already well-marked jawline, breath tickling your skin when he speaks. “Show finishes at 3.30.”

“And what time will you be finished with me?” Your voice notches up a pitch as you try to speak through your retrained giggling. Dick hums into the crook of your neck, making a show out of thinking up an answer. You’re not expecting it when he suddenly grips your rear, and it makes you yelp. He uses the globe of your ass to support your weight as he stands, carrying you through his trailer until you’re at his door.

It's decided then, it would seem. You’re leaving now and coming back on Saturday.

When he despots you onto the floor, you bend over to slip back into your shoes, swaying your butt around as Dick pulls down your skirt and presses up behind you, impishly grinding on you even as you stand up straight once more.

“You didn’t answer my question.” You remind him when he nestling his nose into the crook of your neck, sniffing your sweet, sweaty smell before you stop moving and prompt him once more. “Dick?” 

“Hm?” He hums dreamily before letting out a dramatic sigh and spinning you around to face him as he finally answers. “If you’re late to your ‘thing’ because you can’t resist my charms that’s on you, pussycat.” 

“Ick!” You protest to the awful nickname, both of you laughing as Dick opens his door and slowly but surely leads you out of it.

Dick rattles off a list of directions, advising you on how to get back to the main gate. He offers to walk with you, but you decline.

“Goodnight, kitten.” He jests in farewell.

“Goodnight, dick.” You reply.

He was right, it is cold. A gust of wind blows against you, reaching between your legs to your still damp centre and reminding you that you’d never found your panties, but Dick has already closed and locked the door behind you. Returning to his bedroom, he retrieves your missing underwear from where he’d kicked them under the bed and props it over the corner of his headboard for later.

If you're reading this, I wan't you to know that you are beautiful and I love you!

[atlabeth]

come on back to me - nikolai lantsov

summary: five times you save nikolai and one time he saves you.

a/n: if you've seen my thoughts as i read through siege and storm and ruin and rising then you know that i am deeply in love with nikolai lantsov and since ive finally finished the trilogy i finally feel qualified to write about him lmao. i actually don’t think i’ve written a 5+1 which is crazy so here you go. i wrote this in like 2 days in a spurt of inspiration and im absolutely in love with it, so i hope you all are too!!

title from you’re the one by greta van fleet

wc: 7.3k

warning(s): fem!reader, canon typical violence, siege and storm & ruin and rising book spoilers (i have not watched the show), medical inaccuracies, nikolai's volcra era, hurt/comfort and a happy ending (as usual)

Os Alta

It all happened rather quickly. 

One moment, you were in the infirmary mending a poor soldier’s broken arm. The next, screams were erupting everywhere. 

You and the soldier locked eyes, and you did a final bit of healing on his arm before you nodded at each other and darted off. 

The soldier grabbed his gun and went further into the palace, no doubt to find the royal family, and you adjusted the collar of your kefta before you ran out into the fray. 

Nichevo’ya had surrounded everything, attacking anyone they could find, and their shadowy bodies were like a void’s blight on the land. You knew the sight would be forever burned into your mind.

You knew the Darkling was going to march on Os Alta, that he would have to do it directly to use his shadow soldiers, but this was so much earlier, so much worse than you’d expected. Enforcements were meant to come from Poliznaya. You guessed that was off the table. 

You were fine at fighting—alright with a pistol and better with a dagger—but you were a Healer. You spent more time dealing with the aftermaths of battles, more skilled at setting broken bones and mending bullet wounds than inflicting them. 

Times like these were the ones when you normally questioned your decision to not hone your abilities into a Heartrender, but now you would at least be a dead man either way. Nichevo’ya didn’t exactly have hearts to stop and organs to manipulate. 

You had to get to the other Grisha. You had to make sure the Sun Summoner made it through this attack, even if it meant you wouldn’t. 

You broke into a sprint, trying your best to ignore the crippled and broken bodies in the carnage. Your instincts tugged against you, but you knew there was nothing to be done. If you stopped to help a dead man, you would soon join them. 

You nearly battered into a group of people from your speed and lack of attention, and you reeled to the side seconds before a head-on collision. When you looked up, drawing in ragged breaths in the one second of rest you’d gotten, your eyes widened. 

You were face to face with the royal family. The King, the Queen, and Nikolai Lantsov. The absence was glaring. 

“Grisha,” Nikolai breathed, and he grabbed onto your shoulders like a madman as his fingers ran over the embroidery. He might as well have been one, the way wildfire flickered in his eyes. “You’re a Healer? One of Alina’s?”  

You nodded rapidly. “Are you—” 

“I’m getting them to safety on the Kingfisher,” he cut off, “and she wants me to get that old woman as well.”

“Baghra—?”

“You’re a Healer?” the King interrupted harshly. Your heart stuttered—you’d never been directly addressed by the King, but you supposed circumstances like these called for different standards. 

“Yes,” you nodded. “Are you hurt?” 

“My wife,” he said, and your attention turned to the Queen. Genya’s absence had taken a toll on her, and the shards of glass sticking out of her side weren’t doing her pallid frame any favors. 

“Madraya,” Nikolai whispered, his eyes wide, “I didn’t even notice.” 

“Alexander—” her voice was ragged, her entire appearance pallid— “we’ve much bigger concerns.” 

“Nonsense.” The King’s gaze bore into you. “We have time. Heal her.” 

You screwed your eyes shut, your hands closing into fists for a moment before both opened and you nodded. “Keep an eye out, moi tsarevich,” you huffed, and you moved to the Queen’s side. Nikolai’s head perked up for a moment at your words, but it disappeared just as quickly as he adjusted his grip on his pistol. 

“Of course,” he said wryly. “Not that I don’t trust your work, and not that I don’t trust my abilities, but it would be grand if you could do this quickly.” 

“Working as fast as I can,” you muttered, ignoring the noises the Queen made as you pulled the shards of glass out with little care. Your mentors would be rolling in their graves if they could see you. 

“Vasily is dead, by the way,” Nikolai said, attention focused on the nichevo’ya all around. Thankfully, you’d run into each other in a spot relatively hidden from view. Hopefully it extended to shadow creatures. “I know you were wondering.” 

Your hands faltered for a moment, but it was hardly noticeable as you continued to work. He wasn’t wrong. “I’m so sorry.” 

The Queen choked back a sob, and the King’s face betrayed the slightest bit of emotion. 

“An awful way to go,” Nikolai muttered, more to himself than anything. “But fitting that he brought about his own end.” 

His parents said nothing to your surprise, but you stood up from your knees and nodded at the King and Queen. “She’s healed enough. No internal bleeding, at least.” 

“Healed enough?” the King repeated. “That is not—” 

“It’s the best we can hope for,” Nikolai interrupted sharply. “We’ve already wasted too much time out here.” 

He then nodded, grasping your hands with fierce desperation. “The crown thanks you, darling.” You’d never seen him like this—you’d never seen him fear anything. The Darkling and his creations were a good start. “I thank you, truly.” 

“Just doing my duty,” you assured, and you pulled a small container out of the pocket of your kefta, leftover from your work in the infirmary before it all went to hell, and pressed it into his hand. “She should be alright, but I’ve been slightly rushed. Rub this salve on her wounds when you’re out of danger just to be sure.” 

Nikolai nodded again, slipping it into his own pocket. “Keep our Sun Summoner safe,” he said. “Or else this’ll have all been for nothing.” 

You nodded. “With my life.” 

Nikolai’s eyes met yours, and something unsaid passed between you. Then his hands slipped off of yours, and he continued to herd his parents away from the chaos. You muttered a quick prayer to any Saints that would listen for their safety, and then you head off on your own way. 

2. The Pelican 

You thought either the bones in your hands or the wood was going to crack with how tight you were holding onto the side of the ship. Your heart was still hammering away in your chest—the adrenaline from the battle and Nikolai Lantsov’s sudden appearance and being shot at a thousand different times by a thousand different militiamen still had you quite shaken. 

You knew the sort of chaos you were in for when you made the decision to travel with Alina Starkov rather than stay in the White Cathedral, but you think you hated being in the air like this even more than you hated being trapped underground with those zealots. 

Someone called your name, and you turned to see Adrik a while away with wide eyes. You huffed a sigh as you reluctantly let go and hastened your pace to catch up with him. If he was sent to fetch you, then someone needed healing, and you couldn’t exactly hold off on the one thing you were good at. 

Adrik led you over to a corner of the Pelican where a large portion of your group of Grisha were gathered. Tamar was kneeling next to whoever was injured, one hand splayed above their chest, and you took a deep breath as you forced calmness to wash over your mind. 

“What are we dealing with?” you asked Tamar, but it was clear enough when he spoke up. 

“I’m telling you, it’s fine,” he insisted. “Just a flesh wound.” 

“He was shot,” Tamar said dryly, “and he refuses to accept its severity.” 

“So we meet again,” you said placidly. 

Nikolai seemed to perk up when he saw you, any prior frustration absent from his face as he grinned at you and said your name. “If you’re the Healer here, then I guess I’m not so fine.” 

“Am I ever going to be around you when you’re doing important princely things,” you said as you crouched on the other side of him, Tamar continuing to keep his heart rate steady, “or only when you’re injured?” 

“This is a very important princely thing,” Nikolai said. “I’m showing my soon to be subjects that I’m just like them.” 

“You were shot and you thought you were fine?” You let out a loose sigh and shook your head—it wasn’t worth getting into it. “Keep it steady, Tamar.” 

She nodded, and you reached out to begin unbuttoning his outer coat. He wouldn’t stop shifting around, and it made it infinitely harder. 

“Will you sit still?” you snapped. 

“I am,” Nikolai said. 

“You are not,” you asserted, and you undid the final button on his coat after a struggle, “and you are making this much more difficult.” 

“My apologies,” he said. “Usually women that are taking off my clothes aren’t this angry with me.” 

You scowled, only making his smile grow. 

“You do it yourself if you want to be like that,” you said, letting your hands fall back to your side. “I’m sure the rest of your soldiers will listen to a Healer.” 

“Ah, but none of them bravely threw themselves into danger for you,” Nikolai remarked. “I’m sure that earns me a few points.” 

“Points that you’ve immediately lost by being this difficult with me.” You crossed your arms. “And you did not throw yourself into danger for me—you were in the battle and you got shot.” 

“We came to save you all, and you are a part of it,” Nikolai said. “I’d say I definitely threw myself into danger for you.” 

“You’re impossible.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Will you not even allow a dying man some honor?”

“You are not dying,” you said, “but you will be if you continue talking. Now take off your clothes and stop being so difficult so I can fix this up before you do die.” 

He tutted as he shed his jacket and worked on the rest of his clothing. Princes were apparently fond of multiple layers. “For a Healer, your bedside manner is remarkably poor.”

“Don’t worry,” Nadia piped in, “she’s always been like this.” 

“I have very fond memories of you healing my broken ribs,” Alina said dryly. 

“All of you are still alive,” you said tartly with a glance back at your fellow Grisha, “aren’t you?” 

“I think you made me wish I wasn’t,” Harshaw mused. 

You scowled again and Nikolai laughed. “That bodes very well for me, considering how much I seem to irritate you.” 

“You’re going to be fine,” you grumbled. When you turned back to him, he’d gotten down to his undershirt and unbuttoned it. Blood had spread across the white fabric, but apart from being shot, the wound wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. It’d had the chance to fester for a bit, but with Tamar’s aid it hopefully wouldn’t be a problem.  

You took a deep breath as you placed your hands on his chest—lucky as always, you could sense the bullet missed all his major organs—but Nikolai grimaced before you could even do anything. 

“Are you alright?”

“Your hands are very cold,” he said and you just shook your head. 

“How no one has wrung you by the neck is beyond me.” 

“Many have tried.” He flashed that smile again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add your name to the list.” 

You ignored him, taking another deep breath before you closed your eyes. You felt your power within you, the tug you’d grown accustomed to over the years, and you focused it into a single point. 

You slowly worked on healing Nikolai, making sure you went from the inside out to stop any internal bleeding before you carefully wedged the bullet out with your knife. Surprisingly, he managed to keep his mouth shut for the most part. He watched you the entire time though, wholly unyielding, and it was unnerving. 

Nikolai covered up his pain remarkably well, but you still caught the slightest grimace when you practically stuck a dagger inside him.

“Do you always try to injure your patients more when you’re healing them?” he asked innocently. 

“You typically don’t make fun of the person fixing you up,” you said, and you held up the knife, “or the one holding the blade.”

“Surely you could’ve used David to get it out,” Zoya offered lazily. “Better than practically stabbing the King of Ravka.”

“I’m not the king,” Nikolai said. “Not yet, at least.” 

“And I’m not stabbing him.” You held up the bullet with your other hand, then let it fall to the floor. “I just didn’t feel like digging around inside him.” 

Nikolai picked up the bullet, and you frowned in question. He just shrugged. “To hold onto the fond memories of this battle and the kindest, prettiest Healer I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

Someone snickered behind you, and you turned to see all of them just standing around—Zoya, Harshaw with Oncat perched on his shoulder, Adrik ignoring his sister to watch, even Alina and Mal were still there. At least Tamar had enough sense to stay quiet while she helped you. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you snapped. “It’s hard to focus with you all watching me.”

Alina blinked, seeming to come back to her senses. You almost didn’t blame her—she had so much on her shoulders, it made sense to just want to stand and stare for a minute.

“Right,” she nodded, and she gestured at Zoya and the Squaller siblings as she started walking across the ship, “Adrik, Nadia, I need you all over…”

Alina's words trailed off as she got farther away, and the small crowd dissipated to find duties to carry out without their Sun Summoner to indulge their whims. 

“Thank you for your help, Tamar,” you mumbled. “I can take it from here.” 

She nodded and went off to join the others—the controlled state Nikolai had been in dissolved as she let go of the hold she had on his heart, and the slight daze in his eye went away. 

“Are you always this mean?” Nikolai asked. You turned back to find him with that same unshakable confidence, same lazy smile even in the face of it all. It was no wonder noble and commoner girls alike tripped over themselves when he returned to Ravka. 

It was no wonder Alina fell for his charms despite the tracker by her side—he always knew the right thing to say to make you feel like everything would be okay, and in the midst of Ravka’s endless war, that was a valuable quality indeed.

“I save it for irritating princes,” you remarked. With a final flourish, his wound was sewed up, and Nikolai raised his eyebrows as he touched the newly healed skin.

There was another slight wince, but he still smiled up at you. “Excellent job.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you said.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Grisha handiwork,” Nikolai said as he pulled himself up from the side of the ship. “Especially the healing kind.”

“It would do you good not to get used to it,” you said. “You may not be king yet, but Zoya is right. I’d appreciate it if you tried to stay out of my infirmary.”

“Do you not enjoy my company?” he asked. 

“I don’t enjoy bringing Ravka’s only heir back from the brink after every battle,” you corrected. “You’ve got a lot more weight on your shoulders now, moi tsarevich.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your Ravkan. “Say that again.”

You frowned, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. Nikolai continued staring at you, so you sighed. “Moi tsarevich?”

He laughed, and that only soured your mood further. “What are you laughing about?” 

“I recognized it back during the attack but I didn’t fully think about it,” he said. “It comes out the most with your R’s. You’re not Ravkan, are you?”

You paused at his sudden subject change. “You were focusing on my accent when everyone was dying around us?” 

“Answer the question.” 

Your frown deepened. “I am in most senses of the word.”

Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Kerch.”

Your lips twitched. “Yes, but I don’t—”

“You still haven’t lost the accent somehow,” he continued. “At least, in how you speak certain Ravkan words. Is it Ketterdam?”

“Don’t you have better things to do than quiz your Healer on her childhood?”

“Perhaps,” Nikolai said, eyes twinkling, “but if you’re really my Healer, as you said yourself, I’m surely allowed to ask as many questions as my heart desires.”

“Your heart desires no more,” you said wryly. “I have other injured to attend to. Call if you find yourself actively dying.”

To his credit, he didn’t try to fight it. Just offered that same smile that weakened knees from the Kaelish to the Shu. “I’ll be sure to ring before I’m dead and buried.”

“Put your clothes back on before you do,” you said.

“Ah, but isn’t this your reward for putting up with the irritating prince?” Nikolai asked with a slight gesture at his chest. “I’d imagine you’d want to keep an eye on your handiwork.”

That sparked a rare smile of your own, and you bowed your head. “Moi tsarevich,” you said before you walked off.

You felt Nikolai’s eyes on you even as you approached an injured First Army soldier, and after the first few preliminary questions you couldn’t help but look back. 

When you did, he was gone. 

3. Monastery of Sankt Demyan

You sat on the Spinning Wheel, off to the corner so you wouldn’t be disturbing anyone, staring at your hands as you tried to ignore the thousands of things bumping around in your mind. You’d been on the run with the Sun Summoner and a smattering of other Grisha for longer than you would have liked, but you had to accept that this was what life would be like until the Darkling was either defeated or destroyed you all. 

It was a damning sort of fate, knowing what awaited you unless the impossible was done. At least it would be quick if the nichevo’ya tore you apart. 

You grimaced. That was one thought that would do you no good—if you’d made it this far, from Os Alta under the Darkling’s control to Os Alta under Lantsov control to the White Cathedral and now to Fjerda of all places, what was one more piece of the puzzle? 

A very big piece of the puzzle, of course, and there was still the intrinsic distrust that some soldiers—and even Alina at moments, flickers of it you could see in her eyes against her will—had towards you. You, like the rest of the Grisha here that hailed from the Second Army, served the Darkling until you’d switched sides. You wanted nothing more than to see the Darkling to his grave, for Ravka to be restored and for all of this to be over. 

But you had switched sides in the first place, and you knew enough from the looks of those soldiers—they still believed that if you could betray the Darkling, you could always still betray the Sun Summoner if given enough cause. 

You didn’t try to dissuade their views through words; it wouldn’t do any good. You just hoped the long hours you spent holed up in the infirmary healing the injured would. You missed Maxim if only so you wouldn’t have to do it all alone. 

“Vlachka for your thoughts?” 

You looked up, surprised to see Nikolai Lantsov of all people. You hadn’t held a true conversation with him since you healed him after his bullet wound. He’d been busy with princely things like banishing his parents and saving Genya’s livelihood. 

You were thankful for that, at least. She’d suffered too much at the hands of the Darkling and the King. 

“You’d need a lot more than that,” you said. 

He smiled. “I’ve got quite a bit. Have you seen this place?” 

You chuckled and shrugged. “Just thinking. About our next move, about the Darkling, about what will be after this.” 

“You certainly aren’t the only one,” Nikolai said. “Lately it seems to be all anyone can think about.”

“I’m sure you’d much rather have them thinking of you,” you said wryly. 

“Oh, there’s plenty of that going on as well.” Nikolai smiled. “An even balance, I’d say.”

You chuckled again. “What brings you here, Nikolai?” 

He shrugged. “I wanted to get to know my Healer.” 

You huffed a sigh and looked away. “Why do you call me that?” 

He was awfully good at feigning innocence. “Call you what?” 

“My Healer,” you repeated. “Your Healer. I don’t understand it.” 

“I like the sound of it,” he said. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.” 

You felt your cheeks heat and you felt his eyes on you. “It’s not that. It’s just—” 

“Because I can,” he continued. “Would you prefer lapushka? Milaya? Perhaps babya.”

You scowled as you turned back to him, and you hit him lightly on the shoulder. “You should stick to the seas and the throne, moi tsarevich. Comedy is not your strong suit.” 

“I like it when you call me that,” he mused. “I like your accent, your voice.” He sat down next to you, mildly unexpected, and you hoped you did better at hiding your surprise than it felt. “There’s something soothing about it.” 

“I am from Ketterdam,” you said after a moment. “You guessed right. Born and raised. When my abilities started showing, my parents put me on a ship to Ravka with a map, some vlachki, and the clothes on my back. I made my way to the Little Palace, pleaded my case to the Darkling, and I haven’t seen them since.”

Nikolai was silent, and you fully turned to look at him. “You wanted to know more about me. That’s who I am. A girl from Ketterdam in over her head.”

“Give yourself some credit,” Nikolai said. “You’re a woman from Ketterdam in over your head.” 

You huffed a laugh, and Nikolai’s expression softened a bit. “Why did they send you away? If that’s alright to ask, of course.” 

You shrugged. “Being a young girl in the Barrel is bad enough. If anyone figured out I was Grisha, I would either be dead in the streets, indentured before I could blink, or worse.”  

“They thought it would be safer in Ravka,” he guessed. “In the Second Army.” 

You nodded. “They couldn’t have known any of this would happen,” you said dryly. 

“Do you miss your parents?” he asked. 

“Every day,” you said quietly. “We sent letters when we could, but it was never enough. And those stopped after Alina left the Little Palace, obviously.” 

You didn’t need to recount the months of the Darkling’s madness as he searched for his Sun Summoner. Nikolai might have been Sturmhond at the time, but you didn’t doubt that he had contacts in the Little Palace. You didn’t exactly want to remember it either. 

“How about this?” Nikolai adjusted his position so he could look right at you, those smart hazel eyes enough to get lost in. You forced yourself not to. “On the slim chance that we make it through these next few weeks, when the dust has settled and I’m officially King, I’ll charter a ship for you back to Ketterdam.” 

Your head whirled back to look at him, eyes widening. There was no sign in his eyes of a false promise, only that soft smile, charming as ever. You had the sudden, misplaced urge to wind your fingers into those blonde curls and kiss him. 

“You’d do that for me?” 

He nodded. “Of course. Only the best for my Healer, right?” 

That got a laugh out of you, but the heat rose to your cheeks all the same. “That would be incredible, Nikolai. Thank you.” 

“Of course.” 

He looked—gazed— at you for a touch longer than usual before he spoke again. 

“There’s going to be a meteor shower later tonight,” Nikolai said. “One of my crew figured it out—he’s very fond of the sky, and he told me it would be… quite the sight.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. Was he—

“I’d like to watch it with you,” Nikolai continued. “Of course, I have to put on a display with Alina, but after that,” he looked over at you, hazel eyes gleaming, “I’d like to spend the night with you.” 

It took a moment for your brain to fully process his words. “Moi tsarevich, are… you asking me on a— a date?” 

“Just Nikolai, please,” he said with a grin. “And yes, I am.” 

It seemed so trivial in the scheme of things. You were leading an impossible battle against the Darkling, and as a traitor to his throne, you would end up dead or worse if he caught you. The near entirety of the Second Army was dead, friends you’d grown up and honed your power alongside with ripped apart by nichevo’ya. Your chances for victory relied on the firebird, and no one knew a damn thing about it. 

It was trivial. It was frankly ridiculous, for the prince— the King of Ravka—to be asking you on a date, especially when it was imperative for him to present a certain image with Alina. 

But for all the triviality and ridiculousness and idiocy, you found that you’d never wanted to accept something so badly. 

So you did. You nodded, smiled, brighter than usual. Nikolai seemed to have that effect on you. 

“I’d love to.” 

“Wonderful.” Somehow, impossibly, his grin grew bigger. Nikolai took your hand and pressed a delicate kiss to it before he stood back up—you’d never been so thankful for his confidence, because you found yourself at a loss for words. “I’ll see you tonight, darling. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.” 

You nodded again, and you knew you looked like a dazed idiot. The better half of a decade spent training as a Grisha and all it took was a kiss to your hand for your brain to stop working. You really had been at war for far too long. 

Nikolai could tell every thought—or lack thereof—in your head by the overly pleased expression he wore as he walked away, and your entire face burned as you bit back your smile. 

He knew exactly what he did to you. 

4. The Bittern 

Sergei sold you out. 

That son of bitch had betrayed you all to the Darkling the first chance he got, and he’d been rewarded with a quicker death than any of you would get. 

You’d been left fighting for your lives against the Darkling’s oprichniki, Grisha, and nichevo’ya alike, and as usual, you were hopelessly outnumbered. You knelt over Adrik as Zoya, Nadia, Harshaw, and David kept the crowd of enemies back, doing your damnedest to keep him from bleeding out from his nichevo’ya bite. 

His arm hung at a bizarre angle, and you didn’t know how you would tell him and his sister you didn’t think you could save it. You were sure Genya’s whispered words were the only thing keeping him even slightly calm.

By the time the Bittern was in the air, precarious but afloat, you were about ready to collapse. It had all been too damn much, with the Darkling and Baghra and Nevsky, and now the poor schoolboy lying beneath you with an arm you couldn’t save. 

“He’ll be okay,” you murmured to nobody but yourself, wiping beads of sweat from your forehead as you laid against the side of the ship. As okay as any boy who lost his arm to a shadow monster and went through what he just did. 

Thank the Saints for Tolya keeping both Adrik’s and your heart steady during that ordeal, because you were sure your panic would have won over. 

Everyone in your motley crew was injured in some way or another, and you were the only Healer. Soon you were back on your feet, pushing the horrors of the night out of your mind as you mended lacerations and fixed up bullet wounds. 

Every so often, your eyes would drift over to Adrik. You’d healed him the best you could, but it wasn’t enough. 

And then your mind went to Nikolai. 

Nikolai. 

In the chaos of the battle and the subsequent healing haze, you hadn’t even realized he wasn’t with your group. The Pelican had taken off before you all got to the Bittern, but Nikolai wouldn’t have left Alina on her own after all he’d done to ensure her safety. 

You were almost too scared to ask, but you did anyway. 

“Alina,” you asked, slightly surprised at the sound of your voice in the silence of the night, “where’s Nikolai?” 

Her eyes were unfocused, arms crossed around her midsection for warmth despite the light that glowed beneath her skin. “The Darkling,” she murmured. 

“Wh— what did he do to him?” you continued. “What in the Saints’ name happened to him, Alina?” 

“He ruined him,” she whispered. “He turned him into a monster.” The look on Alina’s face broke you into even smaller pieces. “He turned him into a monster all because Nikolai dared to stand against him. He’s gone.” 

Your grip tightened on the side of the ship as she explained what she had to watch, and your knees threatened to buckle. 

Maybe it was stupid, but you hadn’t even realized you cared this much about the prince. The king, you had to keep reminding yourself. But the thought of him hurt—a hurt that you couldn’t heal—it tore your heart to shreds. 

Only last night you were laying on a blanket next to him, staring up at the meteor shower through the glass dome. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did then, with the streaks of light illuminating his handsome features and those hazel eyes you’d grown to appreciate. 

Few words had passed between the two of you, but once Nikolai had taken your hand in his, neither of you let go for the remainder of the night. That urge to kiss him came back in spades, but you never acted on it. 

Saints, you wished you had. 

“Do you think you can heal him?” Your voice sounded oddly foreign, but you didn’t even feel like you were in your body. Like you were watching it all happen from above, because this couldn’t have been happening. Not to Nikolai— to your Nikolai. 

You were his Healer, and he was your Nikolai. That was how it was supposed to be. 

“I don’t know,” Alina admitted, her tone strained. “My light might be able to help, but… but whenever I’ve used it against the nichevo’ya, against the volcra, I— it kills them.” 

Her voice broke on the last few words, and you wanted to hug her. Alina didn’t love him, you knew that much, but anyone could tell she’d grown close to Nikolai over the months. She was hurting just as much as you. 

You didn’t. You found that you couldn’t do much but stare into the night sky.

He was all alone. Forced into a monster, and now he was all alone. 

It felt like ages before the Bittern finally landed, everyone’s teeth stained rust-orange and bones run deep with exhaustion. Everyone was still alive when you woke up the next morning, and after another check-up on Adrik, you went off into the woods under the guise of searching for kindling. 

Really, you needed some time to yourself. After what had happened—Sergei’s betrayal, losing even more Grisha when you had little to start with, Baghra’s sacrifice, Adrik and his arm, and— and Nikolai—

It was too much. It was just too damn much. 

You’d never gotten close like this to anyone before, never moved further than some useless flirtations and a few stolen kisses with various Grisha when you were bored back at the Little Palace, and when you finally did, with the damned future King of Ravka, this is what happened. 

Guilt tore away at you as you plodded through the woods, and you let the tears you’d been holding back all night fall. You wished you’d been there for him. You wished you’d kissed him. You wished you were strong enough to take the Darkling down on your own for what he’d done. 

The hairs stood up on the back of your neck, and you heard the rustling of branches. You whirled around to the source of the sound, taking a few steps to peer through the trees, and that was when you saw it. 

Your eyes widened and your heart cracked all at once. 

“Nikolai,” you whispered. 

You’d have recognized him anywhere. Despite the shadowy veins splintering across his chest, the wings furled behind his back, claws and fangs in place of fingers and teeth—he was still your Nikolai. His blonde curls remained, his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, even his clever eyes—even if they were black instead of hazel. 

The smear of blood around his mouth was a sharp contrast to it all. You wondered what—or who—had become his unlucky victim when he could no longer control his hunger. 

Nikolai didn’t move as you stepped closer. His dark gaze was unreadable and you wanted to sob for what the Darkling had done to him. 

“It’s me.” You continued to speak softly as you moved closer, saying your name in hopes of even a spark of recognition. “Your Healer.” 

His eyes followed your movements, his gaze falling down to your hands. He pointed at them with a clawed talon.

You held them up. “My hands?” 

You realized the blood around his mouth wasn’t the only bit of it on his body as your eyes trailed across his bare chest. There were cuts all across his arms and chest, most small but some deeper. He pointed at a thin scar near his abdomen, the only sign of the bullet wound you’d stitched up. 

He wanted you to heal him. He knew who you were. 

This time, a small sob escaped you, and your hand flew up almost on instinct to cover it. You brushed the tears brimming in your eyes as you moved closer to him, and you gently placed your hand on his arm. You felt his limb stiffen for a moment before they relaxed, and you couldn’t help your small smile. Your Nikolai was still there. 

The thin cut vanished as you healed it, and you continued to do the same for the myriad of other injuries on his body. You felt his gaze on you the entire time, and some part of it was comforting. Nikolai was still there—his humanity was still there. This was the least you could do to make him feel the part. 

Once you’d healed up the last of his wounds, you felt the glow of Grisha power inside of you. Nikolai grabbed onto your hand the moment you’d finished, and you looked up into his dark eyes as your fingers clasped around his talons.

“We’ll figure this out, Nikolai,” you whispered. “I promise.”

The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, the barest sign of the old smile you’d grown to love.

And then he let go of your hand, and he shot up into the air. It took only seconds for him to disappear, but your gaze remained stuck in place. 

All you could think of was Nikolai’s dark eyes and the shattered shadows beneath his skin, the feel of his taloned hand in yours.  

You would find a way to bring him back. You knew that much. 

5. The Shadow Fold 

“For Saint’s sake— catch him, Zoya!” 

“You screeching at me isn’t helping,” she snarled, her hands held out above her as she summoned wind to break Nikolai’s fall. 

It was almost laughable, how Alina ended it all with a bit of stabbing. First Mal, then the Darkling—now Soldat Sol and oprichniki alike were glowing like human lamps around the Fold. The nichevo’ya dissolved with the Darkling’s power, the same thing that created Nikolai’s monster—you screamed in general when you first saw him falling, and then you screamed at Zoya. It was a credit to her growth that she didn’t slap you first. 

Thankfully, the updraft did its job, and he only landed in the sand at concerning speeds rather than very concerning. 

You ran for him without thinking, not even feeling the jolt in your ankles as you lept from the skiff onto the sands. You no longer had to fear the Fold—the various Sun Soldiers that had gotten Alina’s powers had done away with the remainder in no time—and even if you did, you would brave a thousand volcra for Nikolai. 

He looked so small, so vulnerable laying there in the sand, only clad in torn pants and a myriad of bruises. The last of the shadows receded when you finally reached him, and you didn’t try to stop the tears as they flowed freely down your cheeks. 

“Nikolai,” you whispered, falling to your knees in the sand next to him, “Nikolai, can you hear me?” 

You cradled his head in your hands, tears splattering in the sand around you, and then his eyes opened. 

His beautiful hazel eyes opened and looked right at you, his lips tugging into a smirk as he said your name. 

“Would you say this is an important princely thing?” His voice was husky, damaged from whatever dark thing that had taken a hold of him, but the usual lilt was there. “Or just another injury?” 

You broke into full on sobs, unabashedly and unashamed as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. You felt his arms around you as well, and he rubbed circles on your back. 

“I had time to think,” Nikolai murmured, “and I think I’ll settle on lapushka.” 

Darling. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, and you moved away from him just so you could look at him, gaze at him, never forget his beautiful features. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

“I knew I would be,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I had you looking out for me.” 

“Stop,” you said, your voice watery. “I can’t keep crying in front of you.” 

“I think you’ve more than earned it, lapushka.” 

You laughed again as you shook your head. “How do you feel? Can you still move all your limbs?” 

Nikolai took his hand in yours, fingers intertwining with yours. His gaze didn’t move from you. “Limbs are fine.” 

You let your smile shine unabashed as you squeezed his hand, thankful for the lack of talons. “Can you sit up?” 

Nikolai visibly winced at the effort, but he managed with your help. “My chest hurts quite a bit.” 

“You’ve definitely broken some ribs,” you murmured, “but it’s nothing I can’t fix up.” 

“There’s nothing you can’t fix,” Nikolai said. 

“Careful with all the praise. I might get used to it.” 

“Good.” 

You glanced over to see Tolya and Zoya moving across the sand towards you and you looked back at Nikolai. 

“We’re going to get you back on the skiff, Nikolai,” you said. “I’ll get you healed up and then we’ll get you some clothes. Alright?” 

“I told you,” Nikolai said, “this is your reward for putting up with the irritating prince.” 

“That was for the prince,” you said, running a hand through his blonde curls to untangle them. “My reward for putting up with irritating kings is to make sure they’re clothed and healed.” 

His smile shone brighter than anything Alina could conjure up. 

The Darkling’s Skiff 

You ended up below deck with Nikolai, Tolya, an unconscious Alina and Mal, and the Darkling’s body. It normally wouldn’t have been a cheery atmosphere, but you were just thankful to be alive after all you’d done. Thankful that Nikolai was alive and himself and that the Darkling was dead. 

A First Army uniform was folded next to Nikolai’s makeshift cot where you sat next to him, and Tolya’s companionable silence was appreciated as he stayed by Alina and Mal to ensure they stayed alive. 

“You broke a few ribs in your fall,” you murmured, your hands placed on his chest, “but overall, I’d say you made out pretty well.” 

“Yes,” Nikolai said wryly, looking at his hands. Faint black lines ran across each of his fingers, where claws had torn through his skin. Though the other shadowy marks had faded, these appeared to be permanent. “Pretty well.” 

“You know what I mean, Nikolai.” You moved your hand over his ribs and focused your power—by the slight grimace on his face, the itch that came along with Grisha healing, you knew they were mending back together. “You’re still alive. You’re you again. That means everything.” 

“And your hands are still freakishly cold,” he mused. You smiled. 

A moment passed before he spoke again. 

“You know,” Nikolai said, and you felt his eyes on you again, “I remember everything. Everything that I did when I was that… that thing.” 

Your throat bobbed, but you nodded, encouraging him on. 

“I went to you,” he said, “and… you helped me. You weren’t afraid—you understood what I meant, and you healed me.” 

“Of course I did,” you said softly. A smile tugged at your lips. “I am your Healer, after all.” 

Nikolai placed his hand over one of yours, and your power wavered for a moment as your heart stuttered. 

“One of your ribs is still broken, Nikolai,” you said. “I have to—” 

“I love you,” he interrupted. Your eyes snapped to him, and you thought you misheard him. 

“What?” 

“I love you,” he repeated, as if it came as easily to him as breathing. “Forgive me for the lack of ballads and sonnets on how to express it—I plan to remedy that as soon as we’re back in Os Alta. But I love you, and it’s the one thing I’m sure of at this moment.” 

You continued to stare at him, as if you’d suddenly forgotten how to speak. Nikolai was no Corporalnik, but you were sure he could hear how loudly your heart was beating. 

“It’s alright if you don’t feel the same,” Nikolai said, “or if you’re not ready. I’m a very patient man.” 

It was like your limbs had suddenly regained the ability to move, because something clicked in your mind. You took his face in your hands and you kissed him with a brazen fierceness you didn’t even know you had. 

For a man with two bruised ribs and one broken one, he kissed you back with the same intensity, if not more. You poured all your fear, all your anxiety, all your worries about him into the kiss, reveling in the warmth of his lips and his hands and—

Tolya cleared his throat. “We’re nearly out of the Fold.” 

You pulled away as quickly as it had started, Nikolai looking very pleased with himself as you fixed the collar of your kefta and looked over at him with eyes that were surely more pupil than iris. 

“Thank you, Tolya,” you said, and you cleared your throat as well. Good of him to ignore the two of you. Embarrassing of you to nearly forget about your surroundings when you looked at Nikolai. 

“Yes,” Nikolai said, mirth in his voice, “thank you, Tolya.”

You rolled your eyes as you turned back to him, your lips still burning from his kiss, and you settled your hands back on Nikolai’s chest. 

“No more interruptions,” you said. “I’ve got to get you healed and dressed before we’re off the sand.” 

His eyes twinkled. “Whatever you say, lapushka.” 

You had no idea what was next. The Sun Summoner died on the Fold, the Darkling’s reign of terror was finally over, and Nikolai was to be King. You didn’t know where you would fit in, though you were sure he would find a place. 

But you loved Nikolai, and by the Saints, Nikolai loved you. 

And for now, that was more than enough. 

[babygirlmurdock]

Devil’s Work

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+!!!! my god this is so NSFW please don’t read if you’re under age my god. oral (f!recieving) this is literally only matt taking care of his lady so dom!matt (i guess?) THAT FUCKING SLUTTY CHAIN OF HIS MY GODDDD !!!!!!! also some religious stuff (not really a kink but just to be safe!)

Taglist: @bellaxgiornata @abucketofweird @sleepysleepymom

Author’s note: Like literally all of us, I could not get this .01 second clip of darling Matthew doing to TOWN on that neck with his slutty little gold chain. I have also never ever written smut before so you all have to be nice to me (kidding, but please be kind I’m sensitive LMAO) Enjoy my sweets!!!!

˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Matthew Murdock, where do you even begin with him? For starters, the man is like an angel sent from heaven above. Never in your life have you dated somebody more understanding, caring and passionate in your life. Somebody that checks all your boxes. There was a side of Matt that he has only told you about but he has never shown you.

Daredevil.

When Matt told you that he was the masked vigilante running around on roofs all hours of the night, you were rightfully upset. All the countless lies about where he has been. You thought he had been cheating for the longest time. You finally confronted him after being so frustrated with the lies.

“So are you cheating on me?! Is that why you have scrapes on your chest and a bruise? Who is it, Matt?” Tears welled up in your eyes as your voice cracked.

“No—I, I would never think for a second to give another woman what I give you. I love you and only you.”

“That doesn’t sound convincing! Matt, all the clues are there. You’re out late at night, I have no idea where you are. I am up like a nervous fucking wreck.. I—I can’t handle this anymore,” you held your head in your hands as you tried to steady your breath.

“Do you really want to know?” Matt stepped towards the closet.

“Yes, my God with all my fucking chest. Please Matty, I love you too much. I don’t want it to be true that you found better.”

“Fine,” Matt opened the closet doors and pulled out his father’s old boxing trunk. Your head cautiously turned to the side as your heart rate sped up. Matt’s breath was shaky unbuckling the clasps of the trunk. Moving the two top shelves off revealing something red. His fingers brushed the crimson red horned helmet, he grabbed it and turned around with it in his hands. “I’m Daredevil.”

It’s been six months now since you had the conversation with Matt about his other side. You have your moments with it, like aiding him to health after being beaten half to death and making sure he’s somewhat presentable for court in the morning. It gives you anxiety, but you know Matt, you know his skills. You see him on the news, and feel secure that he’s doing the right thing.

Tonight was different. He’s usually back at the apartment by 2AM the absolute latest. It’s almost 2:30AM and he hasn’t made a single peep about being home late. You start frantically Googling if the police found Daredevil dead in a river, or hung up in front of the church.

Doom scrolling on your phone, you heard the roof door unlatch. Letting out a relieved breath, you got up in front of the couch and hurried over to the stairs.

“Thank God. I was getting worried, Matty. I was afraid I was going to have to call Foggy or Karen and ask if they’d seen you.”

Matt made his way down the steps removing his gloves and helmet as he made his way down. He stalked his way over to you, placed a callused palm on the back of your neck and kissed you like you’ve never been kissed before. This has a purpose to it, hunger. Desperate for more. Your hand landed on his leather covered bicep as you moaned into his mouth practically begging for him to kiss you more.

“Shower,” Matt demanded. You thought Matt came home. No, this was still the Devil out to play. You kind of liked it though.

Walking to the bathroom, you stripped off all your clothing, turned the shower on, got in and waited for Matt. Letting the hot water run down your naked body, your eyes fell shut as your hands started roaming your body. Hearing the bathroom door open and shut again, Matt shortly joined you.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about how badly I needed to touch you tonight,” Matt’s hands traced your sides and landed on your ass, causing your head to fall back in pleasure.

“Then why did it take you so long to get home?” Your hands fiddled with the gold cross dangling from his neck.

“Cops were taking too long to show up. I eventually just tied them to a pipe on a roof and hoped somebody could find them,” Matt said as his lips kissed up your neck. Your breath hitched as Matt’s teeth grazed the spot where your neck meets your clavicle.

Grabbing his face to pull him closer to that sweet spot on your neck and letting out a breathless moan.

“Matt,” you breathed out as he began to kiss down your body, getting on his knees before you.

Matt put one of your legs on his shoulder to get a better angle of you. Matt hungrily kissing your inner thighs, making sure to antagonize you with each one. Gazing down at him making his way to your center, pushing his hair back so you can get a better look at his face reaching dangerously close to your heat.

“Fuck, Matt, I can’t wait any longer, please,” you pleaded him. You felt his smirk against his thigh and he looked up to you.

“Good girls have patience, sweetheart.”

Matt has never called you good girl in that tone before. And boy, did it do something to you. Matt caught the skip in your heartbeat which caused him to run his fingers along your folds. Your knees nearly buckled at his light touch as you let out a whiney moan.

“You really are letting the Devil out, huh?” you said, sucking your teeth.

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” Matt’s voice was a deep growl. Unlocking something feral in him, his mouth dove to your pussy, getting a surprised high pitched moan out of you.

Your hand immediately went to grab the slippery tile wall for some leverage as Matt devoured you below.

“God, fuck,” you breathlessly let out. Your hand grabbing onto his shoulder leaving nail marks on it. Matt was eating you out like you were his last meal on earth. Trying to grab whatever you can so you don’t fall to your knees as he sucked on your clit and entered two fingers inside you.

“Talk to me, sweetie. Do you like that?” Matt said.

“God, yes, I need you to fuck me, Matthew,” you said trying to catch your breath as Matt hooked his fingers up inside you. Matt took his fingers out of you and stood up. Pressing your back against the cold tile, causing your skin to prick up as the hot water wasn’t touching you anymore.

Matt took hold of your face and fiercely kissed you, getting a mix of his saliva and yourself. Both of you moaning against each other’s lips, your arms draped over his broad shoulders, as he scooped you up against the wall.

Your tongues intertwined with one another as you felt his hardness against you, just aching to enter.

“I’ve got you,” he said against your mouth as he slowly entered you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, adjusting to his girth. “Mm, fuck, Matt.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders as he pumped in and out of you. Your moans got louder as his pace quickened. His biceps flexing to hold you up as he was fucking you, deeper and deeper with each thrust.

“You take me so good. That’s my girl,” Matt set you down and turned you around against the glass of the shower door. Your nipples puckered against the glass and Matt thrusted himself into you. His one hand on the front of your throat and one on your stomach. His pace quickened and his cross gently tapping between your shoulder blades with each thrust.

“Matty, I’m about to cum,” you whined out.

“Not yet, I’m not done with you,” Matt snarled. His lips met the back of your neck, starting to nip at it. The room filled with your moans and Matt’s grunts. “You feel so good, my girl.”

Your body was practically begging to orgasm all over Matt. His cock hitting the right mark every thrust, you didn’t want it to end, but exhaustion was quickly taking over you.

“Please, please, I’m almost there,” you become more breathless. Matt’s hand lowered to your clit and started to go in circles.

“Fuck, oh my god, I’m so close,” you cried out as Matt was edging you towards your orgasm.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” Matt’s hands on your hips now, thrusting deeper and rougher each time. “You’re doing so good for me.”

Your own hand reached towards your clit, rubbing in circles for only a few seconds before Matt’s hand grabbed your wrist and pinned your hands against the glass.

“That’s my job to make you cum.” Matt growled in your ear, sending you over the edge.

“Oh, God,” you said through your gritted teeth.

“God has nothing to do with this, sweetheart. He sent the Devil for you,” Matt bit your neck and sucked on it, definitely leaving a mark for you to deal with.

Letting your orgasm overtake you, letting all of Hell’s Kitchen know who is fucking you into oblivion. Matt’s orgasm shortly following yours, he pulled out of you.

Turning yourself around to face him, your legs nearly giving out underneath you, Matt let out a chuckle, holding you up. Trying to catch your breath, Matt gently kissed your lips. You looked at Matt’s scratch marks you so graciously gave him, letting your hand run over them, meeting with the chain of his cross, taking it in your left hand and kissing it.

Matt and yourself finished up the shower. Stepping out, you looked in the mirror, examining your neck. Matt came up behind you and started sweetly kissing your shoulders.

“How will I explain to my job why I’m wearing a scarf in 86 degrees?”

“Raccoon attack. You took that little beast on with your own hands and it put up a fight,” Matt devilishly smiled at you in the mirror.

“Yeah sure, because I’m the raccoon wrangling type,” you rolled your eyes.

“I expect nothing less actually,” Matt matter-of-factly said.

You laughed at him, turning around kissing his lips and he deepened it.

“Something tells me that was only round one out of whenever the sun comes up.” You slyly said.

“Like I said, we’re just getting started,” Matt picked you up and brought you to your shared bedroom.

“Let the Devil out,” You kissed him passionately, mentally coming up with reasons to call out of work tomorrow.

[hoes4hoseok]

enhypen as the tortured poets department

pairings :: ot7 x gn!reader (if i accidentally slipped in a gender-related mistake please let me know!) genres :: angst & fluff warnings :: swearing, alcohol, mentions of food, sorta emotional cheating, reader being down bad ™️ word count :: 2.1k author’s note :: thanks to ogs @sunoosill and @fandomgirl489 for helping me hehe love you guys! also i kind of tried something new with this one, they're actual little fics this time so let's see how it's recieved 😭 that being said i lowkey hate this. i started doubting all my choices once i was like 60% done but this took an embarrassingly long time. also this is unedited because i'm sick of this draft. i hope y'all enjoy though!

ni-ki as my boy only breaks his favorite toys

“i felt more when we played pretend than with all the kens cause he took my out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts, told me i’m better off, but i’m not”

ni-ki swept 👏 you 👏 off 👏 your 👏 feet 👏 when you first met

because he doesn't seem like he'd necessarily approach a relationship the same way as everyone else just because everyone else is doing it

so when he asked you out he was pretty nonchalant about it (even if that wasn’t how he was feeling)

&& it all felt so romantic because you’d do things like get dessert in the middle of the night & then drive into the hills together 

especially because he didn’t treat you the same way as the other people he dated — a fact his friends confirmed.

he was passive about it all before you.

there wouldn’t be any doubt that he loved you because he most certainly did

not to be cliché but he made you see the world differently! & more importantly, he made you see romantic relationships differently

but you could tell that he had a sense of uncertainty around you

not because he was uncertain about his feelings for you

but an uncertainty that told him that he needed to spend each moment like it could be taken away from him in the blink of an eye

he knew he was feeling too much — he knew you were feeling too much

because ultimately, he was unsure about whether he was right for you.

so he left you, promising that you’d be better off without him.

you weren’t.

sunoo as down bad

“for a moment i knew cosmic love, now i’m down bad, crying at the gym”

sunoo would be such a good boyfriend on paper

he'd buy you flowers & give great hugs, of course, but he'd also be supportive & reassure you when you felt insecure and unsure about your place in the world

that being said, sunoo is not one to string people along

so the moment he realized that he wasn’t 100% in, he made a plan to end things & he did.

&&...losing sunoo fucked you up. it would fuck anyone up, to be fair.

finding out that he was leaving you when the relationship was everything to you would catch you off guard, to say the least.

he probably left feeling proud of himself for doing everything right too LMAO 😭 

&& yes, i don't think it's anything he did that made it so bad

it's just that break-ups suck & you really loved him! even if he “did everything right”

no matter how it transpired, you were still in shambles at the end 

you broke down in tears at the sight of anything that made you think of him

from the smell of gardenias in a grocery store

‘he bought me those 🤧! for our first anniversary 🤧!’

to the most upbeat song you’ve ever heard coming on shuffle while you work out

‘he loved that song’ (even if you couldn’t stand it)

&& you really hoped he was feeling a shred of what you were 

but it sure as hell didn’t seem that way.

jungwon as fresh out the slammer

“all those nights, you kept me going, swirled you into all of my poems”

you & jungwon had a lot of your own problems to deal with the first time you dated

likely because he had a lot on his plate at the time as an idol & you were just at different places in your lives

&& even though your brain was telling you not to, you fell in love fast

he’d taken you to a quiet spot in his hometown that he used to go to when he was overwhelmed as a kid

it was an old swingset at the park where, somehow, everything else had been renovated

the two of you sat there for hours with your hands entwined, talking about your futures 

&& the possibility of them ending in the same place.

it felt childish & implausible, but you wanted to believe it

&&, as the break up proved to you, it was, in fact, childish & implausible to believe that your lives could magically become compatible

you tried to move on, you really did. you dated other people for years. 

one boyfriend stuck around for four years. a coworker. your future with him felt written in stone.

he was good to you, but there was a part of your heart that yearned for more

the part that yearned for the type of connection you had on the swingset all those years ago

you didn't spend that time waiting for jungwon — you accepted that you were going to spend your life content with your boyfriend

but you sometimes thought about what it would be like if you met jungwon under different circumstances or another life where his career wasn’t so controlling and demanding of him

you would smile listening to his music (that you subconsciously hoped was about you) 

&& checked how he was doing online periodically

but then you were single. it was something your boyfriend said about not seeing a future here. not seeing a future with you. when you gave him four years of your life. 

you knew you should have felt more, that you should have been torn apart for months

but a week later, you picked up the phone & dialed the number that had been seared into your brain for six years

“y/n?”

his voice was almost a whisper.

“do you think you could take me to that park again tonight?”

“i’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

“thank you.”

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“i missed you.”

heeseung as the alchemy

“where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”

when you started dating heeseung, you knew it would be really easy for him to put you low on his priority list being an idol

&& you wouldn’t have blamed him for that 

because your careers are important, especially at this point in your lives (also your exes probably did that with much less demanding jobs)

but he didn’t! he told you it would be tough but that he’d try his best to make sure you had time together even with his insane packed schedule

&& try he did omg 🤭 that man put in the WORK

he would show up towards the end of your workday just to whisk you off on a date 🫶

which you not-so-secretly loved for two reasons:

one: it reminded you that he loved you & valued your career as much as you valued his

two: he’s really hot. so it’s fun to see everyone’s reaction to him showing up heehee

&& after your workday he’d take you wherever you wanted

but you’re indecisive at times, so he’d just guess sometimes.

it was usually your favorite restaurant or a massage parlor, but once he literally took you to the airport for a getaway? who knows what he has planned lmfao

you loved getting surprised by your boyfriend, of course, but the nights when you were at his concert to support him? those meant the world to you.

you swore that you’d never forget the look on his face when he realized you were in the crowd the first time you surprised him

but honestly? his excitement never faltered. he still wears that childish grin every time he sees you showing up for him

&& the post concert kisses are incomparable to all the others 

because he kisses you like you’re the stars in a rom-com. every. damn. time — whether it’s backstage or in front of 20,000 people.

jay as chloe or sam or sophia or marcus

“if you want to break my cold, cold heart, just say ‘i loved you the way that you were’”

jay was hurting you

with every instagram post he uploaded with a woman you didn’t recognize,

at every red carpet appearance where he had someone else on his arm,

with every polite smile he greeted you with when you crossed paths.

you broke up with him. years ago, at that. you had no right to feel this way.

his mind seemed scattered in your time together & he was unsure about most everything

at first, it had seemed like you were the exception to that.

until you weren’t.

when you broke it off, you told him you loved him. & that maybe you always would.

he might have loved you.

but if that was the case, he never told you.

on occasion, you thought about how he felt seeing you date around aimlessly.

had he done the mature thing & moved on?

did his jaw clench seeing another man kiss you the same way it did before you dated?

did he care about what you were thinking as much as you did about him? 

there were times that you’d stare at his contact, finger hovering above the ‘call’ button

almost hoping your finger would slip so you’d have the chance, the smallest chance to hear him say

“i loved you the way that you were.”

(i really want to write a oneshot about this actually? maybe?)

jake as so high school

“get my car door, isn’t that sweet, then pull me to the backseat, no one’s ever had me, not like you”

jake was so obsessed with you before y’all started dating HEHE probably from the first time that he had a conversation with you!

he was so enthralled by the way you think & see the world

&& he blushed and stumbled on his words every time he talked to you for months & his friends would tease him RELENTLESSLY

he got so nervous before following you on social media that he had to employ his friends to help.

“guys, just press it for me. i can’t look!”

he probably thought about asking you out on many occasions but chickened out for one reason or another every time

but then he saw you at the local convenience store while he was out getting ramen at 2 a.m. — or rather, you saw him.

"jake?" he'd know that voice anywhere. oh god oh god oh god oh god

he needed a moment to compose himself, but he pulled himself together enough to look up at you & greet you properly <3

his stress slipped away fairly fast after that & you found yourselves shopping for your respective midnight snacks together

"have you tried this one? it's probably my favorite limited edition flavor" you had said, pointing to your favorite candy

which, naturally, he responded to by pulling a handful into his basket 😚

you didn't know whether he wanted to try it because you liked it or he was buying it for you, but either way, you found it endearing

after you both paid, jake took your groceries in his other hand, declaring that he'd carry them to your car for you

which, of course, wasn't possible. you had walked.

😧...😟...😶...🤔...☝️😲 "i could give you a ride! i don't want you walking home alone at this hour. or i could call you an uber if you're not comf—"

"i'd really like that"

&& then his heart would damn near explode at the sight of your smile. because how could it not.

he fumbled with the bags before opening the passenger door for you

&& on the drive there he'd stare at you with heart eyes while you talked at every red light

you'd have to tell him it turned green because he was just so distracted hehe

oh my god not this being my second fic about jake driving you home,, 🫣 IT'S FUNNY BECAUSE I DON'T PLAN THESE I JUST GO WITH WHAT FEELS RIGHT

i'm just hilarious, this does not show anything about what i want irl, absolutely nothing.

sunghoon as i look in people’s windows

"what if your eyes looked up & met mine one more time?"

you & sunghoon had a mutual break up, but it didn't feel that way a month after it happened

especially not when you were walking alone down the street his friend lived on & noticed the light shining through the large window

contrary to what you told yourself (i don’t even care if he’s in there) you approached the warm light warily

you didn’t really know whether you were hoping to see him in there, but you did — he was laughing with a few people, glass of wine in hand

&&…you weren’t expecting a flood of memories to overcome you in the way they did.

memories from when you were invited. memories from when you called them “our” friends & not “his” friends. memories from when you were the one making him laugh.

you didn’t notice your mouth fall agape or the tears welling in your eyes until sunghoon met your gaze with a tilt of his head, his smile falling as he registered your presence

for a moment, your mind rushed to decipher the look on his face — the way his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, the way his mouth fell agape too — the same expressions you used to be able to read so well.

finally tearing your gaze from sunghoon, you noticed his friends turning back to look out for whatever it was that made their friend so unsettled

they never saw you. you ran before they could.

perhaps if you had stayed a moment longer, you would have heard the front door open.

txt version ☆ midnights version ☆ masterlist

[galactic-magick]

Rest of My Life: Viktor x Reader

Summary: Reader and Viktor have their wedding and first time together. Takes place right after my last fic Life Changes.

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: SMUT. fem!reader

Author’s Notes: Second half of this fic is smut, it starts and ends at the *** in case anyone only wants to read the first half. Reader is a virgin in this and is implied to be demisexual/somewhere on the ace spectrum, but I don’t think you have to be that necessarily to enjoy the story. I just wanted to write it from that perspective since I’m demisexual myself. I went back and forth a lot deciding if Viktor should be a virgin too, but I was convinced by the “this isn’t my bedroom” line and his freaky moves with Jayce in S2 that he probably has at least some experience. So he’s gonna talk reader through it lmao. Happy reading :)

-

Your roommates are unsurprisingly still awake when you return home, reading your face instantly.

“What happened?” Eli asks. “Are Viktor and that other guy okay?”

Your shocked expression fades into a smile and you crash on the couch with them, giggling uncontrollably.

“Everyone’s fine. They figured it out, and now Viktor is going to be a partner in the company.”

“Wow.” Chanthou says, eyebrows raised.

“Mhmm. And then he asked me to marry him. Tomorrow.”

A beat of silence.

“What?!” Eli exclaims. “He didn’t tell us he was doing it today!”

Chanthou shrugs, “Well, he did ask for our blessing months ago. He didn’t really say when.”

“He asked you guys for your blessing? That’s so sweet.”

“Of course he did. I would’ve beat his ass if he didn’t.” Eli chuckles. “Sorry, did I even say congratulations?”

“No, but it was implied,” you laugh.

-

The next twenty-four hours are a whirlwind. As much as you’ve said you don’t mind keeping things simple, your friends insist on treating you at least a little bit, helping you with your hair, makeup, and nails. You pick out something nice to wear, having a blast while they get you ready. You’re going to miss living with them dearly.

If you’re honest, they’re the main reason you haven’t suggested moving in with Viktor sooner. As much as you love him, your friends have been so near and dear to your life for years now. Leaving them—even just to a different apartment a few blocks away—feels like a stab in the chest. Especially with everything moving so fast. You’re about to be the wife of Piltover’s finest scientist, after all.

Yet, there’s no doubt in your mind that this is the right thing—long overdue truthfully. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted. You know he’ll love you how you deserve, and any fear and uncertainty about the future seems quieter when you’re around him. You love everything about him inside and out, and you can’t believe he’ll be yours.

Your roommates have made you look beautiful, enhancing all your best features and using all your best colors. You grin at your reflection.

“I should probably go find my future husband, hmm?”

-

“I know it’s short notice, but—“

“Of course I will, Viktor!” Jayce hugs him. “I will be the best best man.”

Viktor isn’t used to receiving physical affection from anyone other than you, but he’s not necessarily opposed to it. Jayce is the reason for everything that’s about to happen, everything that Hextech is going to change. Viktor has bonded with him so quickly, it only seemed natural that he would be involved in this big day.

“So um, what is a best man supposed to do?” Jayce asks.

“I’m...not sure.”

“I could write a speech?”

“No,” Viktor shakes his head and smirks. “You’ll talk too long.”

“What else is there to do then? I’ve never been to a wedding before.”

“Hm. Me neither.”

Suddenly Viktor realizes that planning a wedding in the span of a day is not, in fact, easy. He has no idea where he even wants the ceremony, or how to make it official and legal. His whims got the best of him, it seems.

“I could forge some rings?” Jayce suggests.

“Ah, yes. Good idea.” Viktor nods.

Jayce scurries away, and Viktor’s face falls to his hands. Is this too crazy? He knows nothing about weddings, and very little about marriage itself, for that matter. He knows he wants it—that much is clear—but the only example he grew up with was his parents, and they’ve been gone for quite some time.

If only he could get their advice now. They would’ve loved you, he’s sure of it.

He decides the best use of his time at the moment is to get his apartment ready, assuming you’ll want to come home with him tonight. He wants to make everything special for you, wants to make everything perfect.

He stops by some shops on his way back, buying way more than he should safely carry. He then gets to neatening up his space as best he can, covering the bed with fresh blankets and scattering flowers on the floor. He sets up some candles in your favorite scents on the tables and windowsills, nearly lighting them out of habit. He then assesses his work, making adjustments to the set up and gathering anything else he can think of. He’s not the most natural romantic, but he certainly gives his all when it comes to you.

While he’s still at home, he changes into something nicer and smooths out his hair. He doesn’t own a mirror, but it looks fine enough from his vague reflection in the window on his way back out. His only mission now is to find out how to officially marry you.

-

You and your friends run into Jayce as you’re heading towards the Academy, chuckling a bit as he swiftly hides something behind his back.

“Jayce?” you step up to him, raising your brows. “Have you seen my fiance recently?”

“Everything’s under control!” he blurts out.

“You lost him, didn’t you?”

“No! We just...don’t really know how to do a wedding. Last I saw him he said something about asking Heimerdinger to officiate. We’re going to meet back in the lab, I think.”

“Heimerdinger, huh? And what’s that behind you?”

“Nothing.” he dodges your attempts to look around him. “It’s a surprise!”

“Alright, alright. Can we come with you back to the lab?”

He nods, moving his hands quickly in front of him as he turns around to lead you.

“This is the genius inventor Viktor’s partnering with?” Eli jests.

“Viktor says he’s pretty brilliant.” you laugh.

-

Viktor manages to successfully recruit Heimerdinger to officiate, after no less than a twenty-minute reprimand of disappointment that Viktor disobeyed him. As proud as he is of Viktor’s achievements, and how impressed he is that Hextech might actually work, he’s still a bit burned that Viktor went behind his back with it. After he gets his frustrations out of his system, though, he’s quite ecstatic that Viktor is marrying you.

It’s not long before you show up with Jayce and your friends, and Viktor practically vaults himself to you on his cane, eyes scanning you adoringly.

“You’re beautiful.” he smiles, kissing your cheek. “Are you ready?”

“Of course I am.” you find comfort in his gaze, heart thundering in your chest.

Heimerdinger climbs on top of a nearby table, glancing at a pad of notes.

“Now, I haven’t done one of these in nearly a hundred years, so forgive me.” Heimerdinger clears his throat. “Viktor, my boy, do you intend to take Y/N as your wife?”

Viktor takes your hands and squeezes them, “I do.”

“And do you promise to love, honor, respect, and be faithful to her until death?”

“I do.”

Heimerdinger asks the same to you, and you feel Jayce and your friends watching you excitedly as you answer. You can’t believe this is really happening. So much has occurred in so little time, and your lives are about to change even more with the new Hextech discoveries.

You get lost in Viktor’s eyes as Heimerdinger has you both repeat a few other things, then can’t help but laugh when he starts fumbling with some papers for both of you to sign. It’s quite funny, watching such a highly respected councilor struggle with something so seemingly simple as a wedding. You and Viktor sign the marriage license as he says, exchange the beautiful customized rings Jayce made, and Heimerdinger pronounces you officially married.

Viktor doesn’t waste a moment pulling you in by the waist and crashing his lips to yours, the intensity catching you off guard. He’s not one for PDA, but you suppose his own wedding is an exception. You drink him in happily, the mini audience cheering in the background.

The celebration continues for a while afterwards, your friends breaking out some champagne and Jayce insisting on dancing. You sit on Viktor’s lap, twirling his hair absentmindedly as you watch the party surrounding you. It’s simple, just like you wanted.

Viktor’s eyes are locked on your features, studying your face as if he hasn’t already memorized it a million times. He wants you in every way possible, forever and ever until his last breath. His mind, heart, and soul are mated with yours, intertwined so intricately now that you are an inseparable part of his being. Never had he imagined he would experience a love like this.

But there’s still one way he hasn’t yet expressed his love for you, out of respect for your fears and slower attractions. You’ve verbalized your sexual anxieties from having no prior experience, and your need to have a strong comfortability and bond with someone before even considering such acts. Viktor’s never had a problem with waiting, and has made it very clear to you that there is no pressure on his part. He’s been open with you about how he had a couple experiences as a teenager before he moved to Piltover, but would gladly never do it again if that’s what you wanted. He married you for you, not your body.

Still, he aches for your touch every second of every day. He savors every kiss pressed against his lips. He’s reveled in every way you’ve allowed him to caress you, and dreams about all the ways you haven’t yet. He wants to kiss every inch of skin he hasn’t seen. Everyday he wants to bury his face where your pants dig into your soft stomach, where your top is cut dangerously close to your breasts, where your thighs rub together. The dress you’re wearing today makes the arousal impossibly worse, the way it hugs and flows around the curves he so desperately wants etched into his brain forever. He has never desired anyone in the universe more than you, and he’d be willing to wait an eternity if it meant he would one day have you every way he’s been wanting.

You’ve told him you’ll likely be ready someday soon, so is it selfish of him to hope today might be the day?

“Vik?” you say, giggling as you wave a hand in front of his face. “Losing yourself in thought already?”

“I suppose so,” he smirks, giving you a quick kiss.

“Ready to go home?”

His eyebrow raises, looking back and forth between you and then your friends who have started some sort of weird drinking game with Jayce. The celebration isn’t quite winding down yet, but it’s common for the newlyweds to leave early, right?

Viktor gently slides you off his lap, grabbing his cane and standing up.

“I’d love to.”

***

-

He had forgotten about the decorations in his apartment bedroom when you both shuffle through the door, hearing you gasp and clap a hand to your mouth.

“Viktor...this is so beautiful.”

You pick up and drop a few of the flower petals, watching them flutter to the ground. Viktor grabs some matches and starts lighting the candles, and you flop down on the bed, rubbing your limbs against the soft blankets. You inhale the scents, a perfect level of ambiance filling the space.

“Vik?”

“Hmm?” he throws away the used matches, returning to your side.

“Do you want to try it?” you look up at him, nerves starting to take over you.

He kisses your forehead, wrapping a comforting arm around you.

“Only if you’re ready, darling. We don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to.”

“No, no...I’m ready. I want to. I really want to. I’ve felt it for a while now. I just...I’m terrified.”

Your lip quivers slightly, and your eyes roll at yourself. Why are you about to cry on your wedding night? This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

Viktor pulls you into him close, rubbing your back, “Talk to me, my love.”

“It’s so stupid...You’ve been so patient with me, you’ve never pushed me to do anything, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve been disappointing you by making you wait so long. And you’ve actually done stuff before, so you know what you’re missing I guess. What if I’m not good at it? What if we try it and it’s awful or you hate my body—or you unintentionally compare me to other people? What if you regret marrying me? Or what if it really hurts-”

“Sweetheart.” Viktor stops you. “Look at me.”

You do as he asks, still trying to hold back tears after your anxious rambling.

“How long have all those horrible thoughts been in your head?”

“Um. A long time…” you look away again, but Viktor takes your chin and turns you back to his gaze.

“Not a single one of those things are true, do you understand?” he holds your face like precious glass. “You are everything to me. Whether we have sex or not.”

“Okay.” you nod, successfully swallowing back a cry. “I...I really do want to.”

“We’ll go slow, alright? And we can stop whenever you want.” he waits for you to nod again, then lies back on the bed, pulling you on top of him. “But right now I just want you to kiss me.”

You smile, happily obliging. You straddle him, leaning down to capture his lips. He squeezes your thighs on either side of him, moaning when you deepen your kisses and run your hands down his chest. It’s so easy for him to lose himself in you, your touches overtaking his senses. He loves when you make out like this, your form pressed on top of him. He had to beg you to not hold back the first time it happened, insisting he likes your weight on him.

Viktor moves his fingers to twiddle with the hem of your dress, wanting so badly to pull it off of you. He’s never seen you fully naked, and he must admit it’s getting harder and harder to be patient when the outline of your figure looks so...majestic.

He guides your grip to his own shirt, helping you pull it off and sliding his fingers into your hair as you kiss down his neck and collarbone. To his surprise, you’ve always shown so much affection to his scrawny frame, never complaining about his sharp limbs when you cuddle or caress each other like this. He’s never understood any of your insecurities about your body, much preferring your soft and fluffy flesh over his own.

Once you’re satisfied with the amount of kisses you’ve pressed all over his torso, you cover his hands at the bottom of your dress with your own.

“You can take it off.” you tell him, taking a deep breath.

He does so, revealing nothing but your bra, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. Never has he ever wanted to see a pair of tits so badly.

It’s not difficult for you to read his mind, and before you can overthink it—you unhook it and throw it to the floor with the rest of your discarded garments.

Viktor doesn’t blush often, but you’ve never seen his cheeks get so red.

“Wow.” is all he can muster.

“You can touch them, if you want.” you chuckle at his reaction.

Permission is all he needed, his hands squeezing both of them, his thumbs brushing your nipples. A loud sigh escapes your lips, and Viktor decides right then and there that he will do anything to hear a glorious sound like that again.

Your body is a wonderfully pleasant array of textures for his hands to explore, from the raised skin of every stretch mark and scar to the dips and creases of your hips and waist. His touches roam across every inch of your exposed skin, cherishing the beauty he swears to never take for granted.

Your bare breasts press against his chest and he whines into your mouth, a pleasant tingling rushing through you at the noise. His lips then travel down your neck and shoulders, whispering “I love yous” between kisses, most coming out as mumbles against your flesh. Your replies follow suit, breathy and stringed with moans.

Somewhere in the process Viktor loses he pants, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear. You feel his arousal hardening, and your fingers eagerly pull at his waistband.

He stops you, grabbing your wrist.

“Not yet, my love. I want to prepare you properly first.” he kisses your palm. “Let me get on top, okay?”

You nod, adjusting your positions. He places some pillows for your hips and his knees, then runs a couple fingers in one teasing stroke across your clothed entrance.

“Please,” you groan, already missing his touch when his fingers pull away. “Take them off already.”

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss you, “I’m glad you’re excited, darling.”

He obliges your request and takes off your underwear, his fingers quickly returning to your now exposed entrance. He finds your clit, stimulating it with one finger and inserting another slowly.

“Let me know what feels good and what doesn’t, okay?” he says, studying your expressions closely. Even before you say anything, he changes his movements based on your reactions to him.

“It...feels a little weird. But I like it.” you assure him. “Especially when you—“

The stimulation starts to build, and your gasps cut off your own thoughts.

“When you do that.” you finish your sentence, catching your breath as he slows down his fingers.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to help you orgasm your first time, love. But I’ll certainly try.” Viktor continues pulsing a finger in and out of you, rubbing feather-light circles on your clit.

“It’s okay if you don’t.” you hum. “I know it takes some concentration and practice.”

“It’s a learning process—are you ready for a second?”

You nod, and he slowly enters another finger. You’re still super tense from your nerves, but it’s getting easier to relax and let the arousal take over.

“Fuck.” you exhale. “Your fingers feel good.”

A smirks stretches across his lips, and his long digits push farther into you.

“But I want more.” you continue. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” he slips his fingers out, ghostly touches moving up your body. “Oh sweetheart, you’re so perfect.”

You giggle at his distraction, “Yes, Vik, I’m sure. Please.”

He could never say no to such eager eyes and pouting lips, so he slips off his boxers and readjusts himself above you.

“Holy shit, Vik.”

“Second thoughts?”

“No, just...is that really going to fit inside me?” your eyebrows raise and he laughs.

“You can take me, darling. We’ll go very slow, alright?”

You nod, and he lines himself up. He presses the tip in slowly, holding your hands as he goes further. You squeeze them tight, taking deep breaths until he stops halfway in.

“You’re doing so well, my love. How do you feel?”

“Mmm…” you sigh, trying to wrap your senses around the stretching and pressure you’re experiencing. It’s such an odd feeling, but it’s incredibly pleasurable.

“Are you ready for more?”

You nod, and he slowly pushes all the way in. He leans down to kiss you, giving you time to adjust to him. You dig your fingers into his back, closing the distance between your bodies, his cool skin sending shivers down your spine.

“I must admit,” he utters against your lips. “I will likely not last very long.”

Your foreheads press together and you giggle.

“I don’t care, Vik.”

He begins to thrust in and out gently, placing kisses and nibbles along your jaw. The sounds you make drive him crazy, making it extremely difficult for him to have any hope of holding back. The sensations are overwhelming for both of you, a symphony of moans and whines eliciting from your mouths.

You take his face in your hands, staring deep into his gorgeous golden eyes. You capture his lips once again, more passion brewing between you.

“I love you so much.” you say, breathless and full.

“I love you m—fuck, I’m—“ his orgasm washes over him, his movements losing their former smoothness. His cum floods your walls, his dick starting to soften as he pulls out. His nimble fingers return to your cunt, swirling in the juices and stimulating your clit once again.

“Vik, honey, it’s okay if I don’t finish…” your assurances fall on stubborn ears though, his touches quickly building back the pressure.

“Let me try.” he says, determined.

“Vik.” you sit up, legs still wide open around him. “We can try again tomorrow. I promise you’ve satisfied me for the night.”

You intertwine your fingers with his, admiring his flushed face and tousled hair.

“Did I make your first time special enough?” he asks, fiddling with your hands.

“Viktor, it was amazing. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

He smiles, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Shall we clean up, then?” he mumbles, pulling back to look at you.

“Perhaps.” you run a hand through his hair. “I did bring the soaps you always compliment the scent of…”

*** -

You use the bathroom and start a bath, filling it with the products you packed and Epsom salt. Viktor’s tub isn’t very big, but you both fit in it when he sits between your thighs. You wipe each other off and wash each other’s hair, occasionally placing kisses on wet skin.

“Can we move in the rest of your things tomorrow?” he asks.

“Probably.” you reply, rinsing the shampoo from his wavy locks. “You sure you’re ready to share your space?”

“Eh...it’s always been far too empty. I need some...flair.” he laughs.

“I can give you that.” you smile, already imagining all the ways you could decorate and bring life to the place.

After drying off and getting ready for bed, Viktor clears off the top blanket then slips under the covers with you, your limbs immediately encircling one another. He massages your back and shoulders, cuddling you close. His arms feel like home, a warmth in your heart spreading throughout your body.

“I love you so much, Viktor.” you say, looking into his eyes. “And not because of what you do for me or how you make me feel…I love you just because you’re you.”

Your fingers trace his jawline, then slither into his hair.

“I’m so lucky.”

His gaze becomes even softer, at a loss for words from the purity of your love. Nothing in any language could properly describe his own sentiments.

“I can’t wait to love you for the rest of my life.” he peppers kisses across your face, living for the way your nose scrunches. “Every.” —another kiss— “Day.”

You giggle, snuggling impossibly closer. He loves feeling your every breath, every twitch, every tiny movement.

He sighs, closing his eyes and silently thanking Janna for whatever winds brought him to you.

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twenty

authors note: this is more on the boring/filler side, and i apologize for that, but it covers some necessary things and hints at other things. plus, the one after this is wrestlemania and then after that is the infamous disney trip, and those def won't be boring/fillers. 👀

also, what do you ya'll think reader is having? i'm also open to name suggestions cause i hate naming characters lmao

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, angst, and suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 6.6k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @wanderingreigns @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @romanreignsbae

Life is one crazy ass ride.

You’ve always known this, but the past few months have really shown you just how insane things can be. It’s been up, it’s been down, it’s been just a fucking rollercoaster of events and emotions, but somehow, things always seen to work out in your favor.

You expected, maybe more so hoped, that your Live with Jadah would go over well. Would help people see and understand that there’s so much more to the story, so much more to you than the lies that have been fed to them by your apparently psychotic ex-best friend. That was the semi-goal.

Well, to say that goal was met is a bit of an understatement.

The Live went viral, spreading and making it to most global and some international platforms. TMZ formally issued an apology to you, Joe, and Jadah, and retracted their story with Mariah, even scrubbing the interview, which Joe’s legal team believes is only to avoid getting caught up in the several lawsuits she’s been slapped with. 

So many publications have turned the tide, no longer speaking on you and your situation with an almost judgmental stance but rather just reposting the Live and letting the facts speak for themselves.

And social media…..holy shit. 

One thing you never expected was for the Live to go viral, but you especially never expected for yourself to also go viral in a different way, that is.

While the general public was initially against you, bashing you every which way to Sunday, it’s almost completely turned with the vast majority now utterly and wholly intrigued with you. They’ve dug up old headshots from when you cheered in college, clips of you either practicing or competing, and a few Snap videos you were in, again, all during your college years.

Not to mention the clips they took from the Live, primarily of you playfully twerking with Jadah. That clipped with the TikToks you did with Naomi has resulted in people making TikToks and “edits,” as Alexis explained, posting and sharing everywhere.

Apparently, the vast majority of social media finds you extremely attractive, and have even been comparing you to the infamous prison bae, Jeremy Meeks, from way back when. Minus the criminal aspects, of course.

“Look at this one! These are my favorite.” Alexis turns her phone so the group of you can see what is yet another edit of you, err, more so your ass than anything to good googly moogly by Project Pat, which apparently was already going viral on TikTok as people post videos of friends and loved ones with a nice ass. Seems you’ve been added to that group.

“I don’t get the fascination,” you admit with a shake of your hand, fingers tapping against your glass of lemonade. “Like, I’m not even famous.”

“You kinda are now,” Bianca suggests. It's a crazy suggestion, too, because in what world does someone like you, from a small ass town with virtually no major social media footprint, qualify as famous. “Not like, A-List celeb famous, but you don’t make it to the Shade Room if you’re not at least kinda famous.”

Alexis makes a sound, adding, “ya’ll whole lil situation made the March event on their calendar.”

“On their what?” Jadah is understandably confused, asking, “what the hell does that even mean?”

“Twin, I’m gonna need to make a PowerPoint for you or something.”

“Please do, and make sure to add the fancy transitions.”

“Custom slide backgrounds?”

“You know the key to my heart.”

The meeting and union of Jadah and Alexis remains to be seen as one of the worst or best things you could have ever done. They’re so damn similar it felt almost criminal to not introduce them, but with both having such strong personalities, a clash could be one of the titans. So far, however, they’re vibing just as well as you and Jadah have. Hence why all of these ladies are sitting around your coffee table, various drinks in hand, most alcoholic, except for yours of course. 

Which reminds you…

“Oh shit,” you announce, four sets of eyes falling on you as you realize you haven’t shared the news with the majority of them, ironically, Jadah being the only one to know. “I haven’t had a chance to ask.”

You decide to be dramatic as hell, pausing as Alexis is the first to say, impatiently, “ask what, hoe?”

Another pause followed by an intentional rub of your belly as you nonchalantly ask, “which one of ya’ll wants to be in charge of planning the baby shower?”

You’re met with instant screams and squeals of enjoyment, a big smile falling on your face as you’re hit with all of the questions and exclamations. 

“I knew it! I knew it was just a matter of time before BDJ struck again!”

“Y/N! Oh my goodness, congratulations!”

“No freaking way! That’s amazing!”

“I’m gonna act like I didn’t already know, so congratulations, great value sister wife!”

Alexis and Jadah’s statements make you laugh while Bianca and Kaylah’s cause your heart to swell. You then try to quiet them down, “thank you, guys. We’re excited. But, we haven’t told Callie yet, so please keep it to yourselves.”

“Of course.” Kaylah excitedly asks, “how far along are you?”

“Almost three months,” you answer, proudly. Although entirely unexpected, or maybe not depending on how you look at it, you’ve found your excitement at this pregnancy growing every single day. Excitement at having another child, giving Callie the chance to be a big sister, to give Joe the opportunity to experience this pregnancy with you from conception to birth and beyond. He deserves it, especially now that you know what he went through with Jadah.

“Wait. Damn. This means we can’t have a hot girl summer until next year!” Alexis is pouting as she downs the rest of her drink before reaching for the bottle to get a refill. “You couldn’t let that nigga shoot up the club later this fall instead.”

Kaylah’s nose turns up as she also takes a sip of her moscato but not before muttering, “didn’t need that visual.”

Rolling your eyes, you point out, “Alexis, we are too damn old to be having a hot girl summer. Half of us are moms and/or in relationships except your non-committal ass.”

Non-committal has nothing to do with the topic that floats to the front of your mind, but having a room full of women to consult with seems like a perfect opportunity to discuss something that’s still bothering you to some extent.

“Let me ask ya’ll something.” You take a sip of your sparkling apple cider and get to explaining. “So, every time I try to talk to Joe about planning for when the baby gets here, like having my mom or his mom come stay with us a bit to help out when he’s on the road, he either ignores me, changes the subject, or just pacifies me. And I’m trying really hard not to cuss him out, but between baby emotions and me being me, it’s hard.”

Being perceptive is always something you’ve prided yourself on, valued as one of your attributes, so it’s hard not to miss when Kaylah, Alexis, and even Jadah all look suddenly uncomfortable with your question, like they also want to change the subject.

Bianca is the first and only to speak out.

“Yeah, that’s kind of weird.” Her agreement is the quintessential example of validation you were needing for this situation. “I get you’re barely three months, but why not start with the plans now? The sooner the better since it seems like his schedule is pretty hectic.”

Throwing your hands up in the air, you echo her sentiments. “Exactly! And one thing to know about me, which I know he has to know about me is that I like to plan. I hate surprises. We need to start figuring out this shit now.”

“I’d definitely talk to him about it, cause men can be very go with the flow, but this isn’t one of those things that I think should be go with the flow.”

“I feel like you should maybe just wait it out and see where the cards fall.” Kaylah’s suggestion is casual, but her eye contact is sparse, and you actually don’t know what to make of that. 

Jadah contributes to the conversation with agreement to Kaylah’s point. “I agree. Trust your man, whore.”

“But—” And as if present and overhearing said conversation, your phone starts to ring, the man himself filling up your lock screen. “Speaking of the devil…..” You lift and show your phone to the group. “I gotta take this ya’ll.”

“Well, duh.” Alexis says like it’s a no brainer. “BDJ probably won’t stop calling until you pick up anyway.”

Laughing, you untangle your legs and climb off the sofa at the same time you answer his FaceTime, quickly telling him, “hold on.”

“I’ll be back,” you inform, but the last thing you hear is Bianca making the awful mistake of asking Alexis what “BDJ” stands for. Alexis and Jadah start to laugh. 

Obviously, Jadah also knows what’s up. 

Locking the door behind you, you sit down on the patio set that was delivered only two days prior and situate your phone on the accompanying table. Legs crossed, you give him the go, “okay, i’m good now. Just wanted some privacy.”

He doesn’t hesitate to slide right into protective papa bear mode. “How you feeling?”

“Alright.” Your hand unintentionally lands on your stomach as you explain, “had some nausea this morning, but that’s not out of the norm. I had pretty bad morning sickness when I was pregnant with Callie the first few months.”

You can tell he’s not entirely satisfied with this answer, leaning more on the concerned and conservative side. “When’s your next checkup?”

“April 8th. I made sure to schedule it so you can be there.” Joe indicated he wanted the first Monday after WrestleMania to be a day of rest for you and Callie, and it can still be, but you also couldn’t miss the opportunity for him to be a part of your first official well-baby visit. Especially with this being the first time you’ll be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat. 

That must especially be special for him.

“I promise I’m okay, Joe.” Out of respect for him and his emotional state at such an important time in his life, you haven’t told him everything Jadah shared with you. Haven’t made him aware of your knowledge regarding his loss. You’re not sure if you ever will, to be honest. If he wishes to discuss that with you, you’ll always be there to listen and support. But, there’s zero desire to dig up painful memories and trigger this man. 

That doesn’t, however, mean you can’t reassure him when you can see there’s a level of anxiety and apprehension. 

“If I wasn’t, you and Dr. Young would be the first to know.” It’s a promise. You would never do anything to risk unnecessary complications with this pregnancy. “How do you feel? You look tired.”

He’s looked as such for the past couple weeks, and you feel slightly bad, knowing the whole Mariah ordeal must have taken a toll on him. Not to mention his intense training and preparation for WrestleMania.

Of course, he just shrugs, playing it off. “I’m good.” You make a knowing sound. “What?”

“Seriously, Joe. This is me. I know you like the back of my hand. You’re exhausted. It’s okay to admit as such.”

“I’m fine, Y/N. I promise.”

Joe is every bit stubborn as he is caring. He won’t agree with you, but that doesn’t make what you’re saying any less true.

“Whatever, just know I’m giving you a well deserved massage when we come to see you next week.” Coyly, you imply with a shrug of your shoulder. “And maybe a lil’ more depending on the layout of your place and if we can get some privacy from your lil’ twin.”

“Naw, that lil more is happening no matter what, even if I have to fuck you in the rental.”

His tone of surety makes you laugh as you think about something. “I don’t think we’ve ever fucked in a car before.” The list of places this man has been balls deep in you is endless, but a vehicle and plane seem to have not made the list. Yet. “Might have to change that.”

He also laughs. “Wherever you want it, baby, you just gotta tell me when and how.” Just more and more reasons to love this man to infinity and beyond. He matches your freak so well.

Joe asks about Callie, of course, and you let him know she’s in seven heaven playing with her cousin in her new room that’s gradually filling up even though she still doesn’t even have all of her stuff from back in your apartment. It also goes without saying that you remind him she’s absolutely thrilled to see him soon, the same as you, which is the same as him. Reunions between the three of you are just all around enjoyable.

Naturally, Joe apologizes, for no good reason, at not being able to come with you as you take Callie back to your hometown for your final apartment walkthrough and to close all other matters, officially making your move to Florida complete. It’s a bit of a bittersweet thing, leaving the place you grew up and have so many memories in. However, what’s ahead of you is so much better than what’s behind you. 

And while you would love Joe to be able to come too, it’s also not necessary.

Especially when he finds out what else is on your agenda before you say goodbye for good. 

Realizing your time with him could be cut at any moment, you decide it’s now or never to break the news to him. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I know right off the bat, you’re not going to be in agreement, but I need you to just hear me out.”

He’s hesitant and already skeptical but nods. “I’m listening.”

A deep breath followed by a quick prayer to the big man that Joe will at least try to be open to this plan. “I’m gonna go see my dad while I’m there.”

This is something you’ve really been thinking about, on and off, since the Christmas ordeal. It just hasn’t been such a major priority given all the other fires you’ve been having to put out. Alexis was right when she said the dynamic with your dad has a lot to do with the situation with Joe and not telling him about Callie.

And you being able to acknowledge that has made you realize you’ve been holding onto a lot of pain and anger towards that man. More pain than anything. And it’s time to let it go. The same way you’re leaving that town for good, albeit bittersweet, you need to drop the baggage of hurt at the door before the curtain closes permanently.

In this case, that means sitting in front of the man who is your biological father and nothing more, speaking your peace, and closing that chapter.

For good. 

To some extent, you expected, maybe more so hoped, for Joe to be more receptive. 

It was wishful thinking, at best.

Immediately, he protests, face turned up in a scowl that reminds you of Callie when she’s in one of her moods. “Like hell you—”

Closing your eyes, you do your best to keep your voice leveled. “Hear me out, please.”

“Y/N, do you not remember the last time you saw that man?” Most definitely do you remember. That was definitely a low moment for you. “You were a fucking wreck. I’m not seeing you go through that again, especially with you being pregnant.”

“Do you really think if I had even an inkling it wouldn’t be safe for our baby I’d be doing it? Come on, Joe. You know me. I would never put either of our children in harm's way.” And you know he knows this, knows this very well, but you can also understand his anxiety from a couple different angles. “Before when I saw him, I was still looking for his love and approval. I can admit that now.” It’s been a tough pill to swallow, going back and forth between emotion and logic, coming to grips with such an uncomfortable truth. “I don’t need that anymore. I don’t even want it. I have you. I have Callie. My mom. Our friends. Even this new baby, but if I’m leaving that town for good, I need to leave all of the hurt it brought me there too. That includes making my peace with him.”

When he still doesn't say anything, you continue to plead your case.

“I need to do this, Joe. I’m not asking you to understand.” You’re not quite sure he could. This is one of those things that unless you’ve lived it, lived with a neglectful, uninvolved parent, you just couldn’t get it. “I’m just asking you to trust me.”

He’s quiet for a few minutes, and you already know it’s because he’s sitting on your words, doing his best to meet you where you are. Eventually, he says in a resigned voice, “I don’t want you going alone.”

There’s an immense amount of gratitude for his blessing, and his request is more than fair.  You also figured as such, assuring him, “I already talked with Bianca about it. She’s gonna go with me.” 

This seems to make him feel at least a little bit better. He scratches his beard. “Alright. But the minute you start feeling off—”

“I’ll cut it off. I know.” That goes without saying. You meant what you said. Nothing could make you put your baby at risk. “Thank you, Joe.”

Not wanting this to be the last topic you discuss, you switch gears a bit to something that will hopefully lessen his unease. “I also think we should tell Callie when we come to see you next week. I just told the girls today, and I’m gonna tell my mom while I’m there. Callie deserves to know.” The order of which you’ve told people about your pregnancy isn’t exactly how you would have preferred it to go. In a perfect world, it would have been Joe, Calllie, your mom, and then your close friends. But, life be lifing, so you just have to roll with it as best you can. 

Joe nods. “I agree.” You overhear a distant voice in the background before his gaze falls on you. “I gotta go, babe.”

It’s hard not to feel disappointed. “I get it.” This pregnancy has your emotions a bit on the high, sensitive end, because there’s no reason for you to feel like crying just because this man has to get back to work. You miss him like crazy, sure, but this has always been a bit of the dynamic. You get him in doses, sometimes big, sometimes small. “Can we still call you tonight? You know Callie can’t sleep unless she can tell both of us goodnight.”

It’s such a twist, a beautiful, unexpected thing. Once upon a time, it was just you she needed to see and/or speak to before she could fall asleep. But now, it’s both you and Joe, and you honestly couldn't love that more. 

Their relationship and bond is so precious to you.

And now that you understand what Joe’s been through, you can see why he’s always willing to move heaven and earth for her. She’s the little girl he’s always wanted and finally has.

“Of course.” You weren’t expecting any other answer. “I love you.”

A warm smile sets on your face. “I love you too, baby.”

You settle on a time that works best for him and end the call. Ignoring the sadness at not being able to talk to him further, you walk back in the house for a sure pick-me-up.

“Well, it’s about time,” Bianca teases, dimples nice and pronounced. “Thought we were gonna have to check on ya’ll.”

“No, she’s back too early….” Alexis, as per usual, confuses you when she asks, “ya’ll weren’t having phone sex?” She curses and then grabs her purse, digging out her wallet, slapping a wad of cash into Jadah’s expecting hand.

“Told you,” Jadah says knowingly, smirk on her pretty face as she counts the cash. “One thing I do know about Joe is he’s an all out type of man. It’s rounds or nothing.” She then looks over at you, apologizing, “hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t.” It’s an honest answer. You’re old, mature, and secure enough to acknowledge and be okay with the fact your man has been with her in almost every way he’s probably been with you. Outside of the emotional connection component, which is really what matters the most to you. Sex would just be sex if you didn’t love him as much as you do. If he didn’t love you as much as he does. That’s what makes it so explosive. 

“Well, it bothers me!”  Kaylah looks so disgusted, and you can’t blame her. “Joe is literally like my brother!” 

Bianca cosigns with a shake of her head. “And it bothers me because Y/N literally is my sister.”

“That’s so wild, so ya’ll are half sisters, right?” Jadah asks, pointing between the two of you as you move back onto the sofa. “Same mom or…..”

“No, same dad, but we don’t claim him.”

Jadah makes an ‘O’ with her mouth as Alexis leans over to whisper something in her ear. “Got it. Daddy issues. Ya’ll should just jump him then.”

“That’s what I said! Stomp his ole’ mean ass.”

Yeah…..putting Alexis and Jadah together may have created a new kind of threat to society.

“Anyway.” Refocusing them is really the best and only option. “As we were discussing, ya’ll think I should bring it up to Joe when we fly there next week?” You then remember the pact mentality and aim your question toward Bianca. “Let me just ask you, cause you seem to be the only one who gets where I’m coming from.”

At that, Bianca opens and closes her mouth. “Oh. That. I…..I think you should just leave it alone. I’m sure Joe has his reasons.”

Now it’s your turn to look shocked. “What? That’s not what you said literally not even 10 minutes ago.”

Bianca switching up on you definitely wasn’t in the cards, especially since she was providing you all the affirmation and validation you were seeking in your dilemma. 

She looks off, almost in a guilty, sheepish way. “I changed my mind….”

“What did ya’ll say to her?” It’s directed toward Alexis and and even Jadah, because Kaylah doesn’t seem like the type to try to sway people one way or the other. “Can’t leave ya’ll asses alone for two minutes.”

“I don’t like your tone, Mama Mia. Watch it.” Alexis warns, and you can only roll your eyes. “What you need to be focused on is what you’re gonna wear to the Hall of Fame and WrestleMania.”

Kaylah gasps, also remembering. “Shit, I completely forgot about that.”

Your eyes land on her with premature excitement. “You’re going to the awards too?” She nods and you let out a big sigh of relief. “Oh thank god, I was kinda nervous. I’m sure Trinity is going too, but the more the merrier, I feel like I’m gonna be so out of place there or everyone’s going to hate me.”

“Girl, like Joe is going to let that happen.” Jadah is, surprisingly, the first one to jump to calm your nerves. “Him taking you in and of itself is such a ‘fuck you’ move. He really said ya’ll not about to bully the woman I love and think I’m finna just keep her on the backburner.”

“I agree.” Kaylah chimes, providing additional and useful context. “The internet wrestling community is a cesspool, and they’ll always find some reason to complain and bitch, but Joe has never been about that. He’s gonna have you on his arm regardless of who has something to say about it.” 

“Ummmm, why are we acting like majority of the internet isn’t all on Y/N’s dick now that ya’ll cleared up the air?” Alexis lifts her phone, adding, “I literally can’t get on TikTok or Twitter without seeing edits and photos of Y/N that the internet has dug up. They can’t get enough of her.”

“Her ass, specifically,” Jadah adds, and you shake your head. 

“I think what they’re trying to say is that maybe you should redirect your focus on fashion and hair choices vs public perception, because it seems to be in your favor currently.” Bianca’s advice is wise and on time. It also is very much giving off teacher vibes, just another thing you two can connect on.  

You’re really happy you asked her to come visit you. 

That you gave her a chance.

It’s proving to be a really good decision.

“Well, I’m gonna have my mom do my silk press while I’m there, so there’s that.” Typically, you avoid heat like the plague, sucking up the pain in the ass wash days to keep your curls hydrated and thriving. However, you’re okay with every now and then sitting in that damn chair for what feels like, and is, hours for these special occasions. And attending the Hall of Fame awards as well as WrestleMania definitely constitutes a special moment. “As far as fashion…..I have no idea. I don’t really have a lot of fancy clothes, and the ones I do have are before Callie and even now with the weight I’ve gained from this pregnancy already, I don’t know if I can still wear them.”

“Well then it’s obvious what we need to do.” Alexis says with a ‘duh’ tone. “We need to go find you some dresses! Like, today.”

“I probably do need to pick up something too.” Kaylah says with a heavy sigh. “I think Josh said something about wearing red.”

“Of course you have to wear red. That’s Bloodline colors.” 

You chuckle at Bianca’s enthusiasm. It’s kinda cool that she’s also into wrestling. You’re so tempted to ask Joe if he can get tickets for her, Darius, and Taylor, but you also don’t want to do too much. It already means a lot to you that he got tickets for your mom and Alexis. 

“I hate to pull the girls from their playing. They must be having a blast considering not one has come down in like over an hour.” It’s true. Not to mention you can also occasionally hear the chorus of giggles and shouting indicating just how great a time they’re having.

“I can watch them for ya’ll.”Jadah’s suggestion causes all sets of eyes to land on her. She rolls her eyes. “You all go get the shopping done, and I’ll stay here with the kids.”

“Jadah, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind. I’m not really that big on shopping anyway.” Finally. A difference between her and Alexis. “Plus, I have some client stuff I can get caught up with.”

You’re still reluctant, offering her another out. “If you’re sure….”

“Y/N, I would hope by now you’ve figured out I’m too blunt to lie. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.” Jadah shrugs, directing her next statement to Kaylah and Bianca. “If you’re also good with it too, of course.”

Bianca and Kaylah echo agreement with you, hence it being decided.

With a chuckle, you announce, “I guess we’re going shopping.”

———-

Things have been hard since you first landed back in your hometown.

Saying goodbye to your students was hard. 

Saying goodbye to friends in town has been hard. 

Bidding farewell to the apartment you first brought your sweet little girl home to after she was born was very hard.

Visiting your grandma’s grave one last time for who knows how long…..that’ll be brutal.

But this….confronting your father for the last time…

To say you’re a bit on the anxious side is putting it nicely. 

This was always going to be on the nerve inducing side for a variety of good and valid reasons. It’s just getting to the moment where it happens, where you sit in the parking lot of the restaurant he agreed to meet “you” at is just bringing out some indecision you’re certain comes from a place of anxiety.

Finally stepping out of the car, you and Bianca reach the door of the restaurant when she turns to you, mouth turned into a bit of a frown as she reminds, “you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s not about what I want to do. It’s about what I need to do, Bianca.” It’s the truth. This isn’t something you’ve been dying to have happen your entire life, but for the sake of your healing, it’s what needs to happen. “But, if you feel uncomfortable, I totally get—”

“Not at all.” She reaches for your hand. “You’ve got this.”

A deep breath followed by a head nod as you accept her hand. She gives you a little squeeze and opens the door, leading the way figuratively and literally. As expected, he’s already there and waiting, sitting near the back of the restaurant. You’re not surprised a man like him is right on time. He seems like the punctual bastard type.

And Bianca has reiterated as such before. 

Together, you walk hand in hand towards him. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he lights up with a genuine smile at seeing Bianca, but that smile almost instantly drops when he sets his gaze on you.

Expected. 

Wholly expected.

Immediately, his nose is turned up in visible disgust, primarily directed toward you. “Bianca, what is the meaning of this?”

“What?” Her voice is full of nonchalance as is the expression on her face. “I told you your daughter wanted to speak with you.”

He just didn’t know which daughter.

There’s no denying or misunderstanding his anger at the subterfuge. He shoots up from the table. “I’m not putting up with—”

Bianca is quick with it, assertively informing him, “if you want even a chance of seeing Taylor again, you’re gonna sit right back down and hear her out.” It means the world to you that not only has Bianca agreed to be here with you today, but it’s the fact that she’s willing to be so loyal to you.

Like a sister.

Because she is your sister. 

He scoffs almost immediately. “Using my grandchild to blackmail me? That’s low, Bianca. Your mother and I raised you better than that.”

She crosses her arms and matches his energy. “You are the last person that needs to be talking about raising anyone.” She then looks at you, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “I’ll be right over there if you need me, okay?”

Nodding, she gives you one last supportive squeeze and ignores her father to walk over and slide into a booth across the room. 

Left alone, you watch him begrudgingly sit down so he’s across from you, same set of brown eyes locking. It kills you how much of yourself you can see in him, starting with the same set of eyes. You just have to remind yourself that that’s where the similarities end. 

“This won’t take long, which I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear.” He doesn’t agree nor disagree, not that it makes much of a difference to you. At all. “I’m moving from this town. Tomorrow’s the day I hand over my keys, and I’ll officially be living in Florida full time. Not that you care, because we both know you never have and never will give a flying fuck about me.”

“Is there a point to this?” The edge in his voice, maybe even a couple months ago, might have killed you. Stolen your joy. Now, it does nothing. He no longer has that power over you, because you’ve taken that power back. 

And it feels so damn good.

“I did it, you know.” Without giving him a chance, if he even would, to respond, you continue. “I made something of myself. I’m successful. I have a career. I found love all without you ever doing a goddamn thing for me.”

For a second, you swear you see a different emotion flash in his familiar irises, but it’s gone almost instantly, replaced with that permanent disdain you refuse to allow sway you from your goal.

“I have a man who loves me in every single healthy way that exists, who loves our daughter more than there are words in all the languages put together.” Emotion chokes you up, but you manage to stick with the mental points you made for this conversation. “And you wanna know something? We conceived her when he was still married.”

Leaning forward as you lower your voice, both for privacy and emotionality. “But, I didn’t tell him. I deprived him and our little girl for the first almost five years of her life because I was so scared that he was going to be like you, that he was going to reject her and hurt her the way you hurt me.”

It’s a bit painful for you to verbalize those words, but also so damn liberating to free them from the confines of your subconscious.

To also release those shackles they had on you. 

“But, I was so so so wrong, because he is the best damn dad she could have asked for, and he was angry with me for not telling him about her. He wanted to be in her life. He wanted her. And it’s through that I finally realized something.”

Your voice cracks as you finally release your truth and acknowledge freedom from over 30 years of emotional bondage.

“I’ve finally realized after all these years that it’s not that I’m not good enough for you.” You shake your head, pointing at him with all the intention and determination you can muster up. “You’re not good enough for me. Not good enough to be my dad. Definitely not good enough to be a grandfather to my kids. Not good enough to be in my life.” There isn’t an ounce of hesitation or a stutter in your voice. “It’s not that I don’t deserve to be in your life. You don’t deserve to be in mine. You never did, and you never will.”

And never again will you seek out that love and validation from him. You don’t need it. 

You never did.

“I actually feel sorry for you, because I am an amazing, strong black woman who was raised by an even more amazing, strong black woman who was also raised by a phenomenal black woman. And my daughter….” Just thinking about Callie, her warm smile and the great big hug she gave you, before you and Bianca left her and Taylor with your mom, makes you all choked up again. “—is the kindest, sweetest, smartest kid you could ever meet. But as long as there is breath in my body, you will not know her or any other kids I bring into this world.”

That’s a promise, an oath, a swear on everything that you love and hold dear.

“After today, you are dead to me, and I truly hope you one day see all that you missed out on, but I’m not going to wait around for that. I’m going to spend the rest of my life surrounded with love and family because that’s what I deserve.” Grabbing your purse and sliding out the booth, you make eye contact with Bianca who starts to head over. “Take care, Captain Wilson.”

As soon as she’s at your side, he shoots up from the booth. “Bianca, if you leave with that girl—”

“That woman,” Bianca corrects with all the sharpness. “You mean my sister?”

His lips turn up with a hateful snarl. “This hoodrat trash is not your sister.”

You actually laugh at his words, laugh at the fact that he’s truly so pathetic and a piece of shit he couldn’t even take any of what you just said to heart. It also makes you wonder if he’s aware of all the shit that’s been happening online regarding you. Not that it makes a difference.

It’s just something else he would try to use to justify not being in your life.

Like a coward.

“No.” She lifts her chin, taking your hand. “She is my sister, but you?” Bianca shakes her head, and you can hear the emotion catch in her voice. “You’re not my father. You’re the trash.”

If he offers a visible response to her harsh words, you’ll never know because Bianca tugs on your hand, directing the both of you to turn around as she marches you out the restaurant. Once out of the vicinity, she spins you around and brings you in for a big, loving hug.

“I’m so damn proud of you.” Eyes closing, you accept and lean into her embrace. You’re also insanely proud of you. “You said what you had to say. The ball is in his court now.”

“I highly doubt he’s gonna do anything with it.” Separating, you again thank her. “I really appreciate you being here with me today. I’m not sure Joe would have been okay with me doing this, if you weren’t here.”

She smirks, head tilted to the side. “Nowhere else I’d rather be, hun.”

It’s the truth. Along with the fact that you’re not even sure you would and even could have gone through with this if not for her assistance and support. It’s crazy how the people you’ve met in recent months have become such important figures in your life and the people you thought were important are now strangers.

Life….always a wild ride, for sure.

“And speaking of Joe….” She’s understandably confused as you casually throw out, “guess who’s going to WrestleMania with her little sister?”

Bianca’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “Seriously?” Laughing, you nod. “Oh my god—” She captures you in another big hug, the two of you nearly hopping like damn teenagers. “Wait, just me or—”

“Of course not. Taylor and Darius too. I feel like he might divorce your ass if you tried to go without him.”

“You’re not entirely wrong.” Her laughter lessens as she looks at you with admiration and appreciation. “You really didn’t have to do that, Y/N.”

“It wasn’t that big a deal.” And it wasn’t. After biting the bullet and pushing aside unnecessary anxiety, you just shot Joe a text asking if there was any way Bianca and her family could attend Mania. His response was an almost instant yes. “Besides….we’re sisters.” Your eyes begin to water as you give a one shoulder shrug. “We look out for each other.”

Her smile matches the emotionality of this moment. “You’re damn right we do.” Sniffling, she wipes her eyes and then gasps. “Shit, now I need to find a dress. Does this town have any stores where I could maybe find something?”

Her question is so laughable. “Not really, sis. Let’s just wait till we fly home. I’m sure we could find you something there. Maybe the boutique where I got my dresses."

Home…..

You’re not sure if you’ve referred to Florida as home prior to this moment, but it feels so good, so right. Like it’s where you’re supposed to be. Where you were always supposed to be. 

Home with your daughter, with your man, with the baby growing inside you.

With your family.

[l3v1s-g4m3r]

lmao I might make like a series but it’s just different aus where you know the brothers prior to being kidnapped/sent to the devildom

it’s mammon this time !!

so you open your email to a free iphone scam. you delete it and go on with your day. the next day you get another one. you delete it and go on with your day. this happens for a week straight before you eventually add the number on the scam email to tell this idiot off. you say, as I quote;

“bitch stop fucking sending me scam emails 😐”

he replies and somehow HES the mad one now. you two argue for like 10 minutes straight because, gosh, he just can’t accept that he’s wrong??

the argument dies down and you both go back to your day. that is until you get another scam ad the next day.

“ok you rat bastard what’s your address I’m finna pull up rn one of us dying today and it ain’t gonna be me”

he.. actually sends you coordinates??? there’s no way this mf will just give away his address, so you put the coordinates in google.

it shows your house.

“WHAT THE FUCK HOW DO YOU KNOW MY ADDRESS 😭”

he doesn’t say how or even WHY he has your address on hand, but he decides to fucking blackmail you to help him make money.

you agree because you don’t want some random sixty year old man to come to your house because you didn’t help him make money.

he tells you his name is mammon, and yeah serves him right because he IS a demon for blackmailing you.

you try to do the iphone scam like him, doesn’t work. you try the “you have a virus” scam, it doesn’t work.

so you have to take great lengths.

you become a discord e-kitten. and it surprisingly works really well, all you have to do is claim you’re a minor and send pics of your feet. then send the money to mammon.

and you’re not scamming people while doing it so all is good!

as much as it is a surprise, you and mammon become pretty good friends. I mean, you are basically the ONLY source of money he has, and a pretty good one at that. you even call him boss!

when you’ve made him about $1000 (or 50,000 grim if you transfer it), you both decide to show each other your faces and he’s actually a cutie bro?? like what?? you expected a sixty year old man blackmailing you but he’s a hot guy in his 20s??

one day while you were preparing to get on discord to continue e-kittening, you get sucked into a random portal. and fall straight on your face. right infront of a bunch of hot men. just great.

when the cute redhead explains your situation, you’re not too worried. might aswell get used to being here, since it’s gonna be your home when you’re dead!

the raven haired fellow gives you you’re “phone” for when you’re down here and tell you to call mammon.

wait, mammon?! boss?!

you look at the profile picture and surely that’s him, I guess you saying he was a demon for blackmailing you was the weird truth. why else would he be here?

you click the call button.

“oi, what’s the big idea-“

“HI BOSS!”

“wha- WIMP?! WHY ARE YA CALLIN’ ME ON A RANDOM NUMBER?!”

“so um, long story short, I’m in hell and this black haired guy told me to call you. I think his name was lucifer??”

“no way… YOURE THE EXCHANGE STUDENT?! THIS IS A PRETTY NICE DAY AFTER ALL! COMIN’ THERE NOW!”

everybody else in the room is confused why you called mammon “boss” and why he was so buddy-buddy with you, considering he doesn’t do that with strangers, especially HUMANS.

mammon would’ve been annoyed he had to babysit some human, but he has no problem with it because he’s making money and he’s with his wimp 💕💕.

[ultralightpoe]

High Infidelity - Coriolanus Snow

Authors Note: Yup. I wrote for him. Hate me for it. (This was also the first time I wrote him so it’s not the best characterization, but hey. It’s been sitting in my drafts foreverrrrrr)

Word Count: 5642

Warnings: Prostitution. Lmao. And really bad writing so be prepared for that.

Apart of the Midnights Album Event

My MAIN Masterlist is here!

(Thank you for the gif @youremyvioleta )

Enjoy!

Lock broken, slur spoken

Wound open, game token

I didn't know you were keeping count

Rain soaking, blind hoping

You said I was freeloading

I didn't know you were keeping count

-

Your mother had always warned you away from him, warning you of the terrible terrible things that came from his family, she used to sit you at the table and plead with you to stay as far away from Coriolanus Snow as you could.

“Everything with that family ends with bloodshed.” She had warned you, telling you to stay away.

You hadn’t, and you never would….. well at least you never thought you would.

You had grown up with Coryo, known eachother since you were just children and had survived a war together. Had gone through starvation together. Back then you hadn’t understood why your mother was so afraid of him, this was the boy that had shared a can of beans with you when you had nothing. And now that the Capitol was back you were still as thick as thieves.

“I’m sorry.” You rush out, staring at your best friend right now, tears sliding your cheeks. “I don’t understand Coryo.”

It had been months since you last saw him, his hair was shorter and whiter now, and his face set into a grim glare. But it was the eyes that were different, they were cold and dark, just making eye contact made you shutter.

You had rushed to the train station to pick him up, an expensive flower in your hand and a wide smile. That had promptly been wiped away the second he got off the train and snapped at you.

The words fuzzed a bit, but it was something along the lines of “I’m warning you to stay away from my family, you freeloading wretch.”

“Do I really need to repeat myself?” The smile he gives you is anything but warm. “What? Now that I’m back you want to tag along all the time? Steal my family's fortune and pretend you’re not a starving leech?”

“Starving Leech? When have I ever taken anything from you?” You bite back, hands curling into fists.

“I can give you an entire list of everything you have taken from my family.” He laughs. “And I promise you that there will be no more favors.”

“You….. I hadn’t realized helping eachother from not starving was a favor. You ate from my table to need I remind you.” You snap, a heat crossing your skin, casting eyes towards a pair of on lookers.

You didn’t have time for this, you had a shift at the med wing.

You said as much to him, enjoying the way his eyes narrowed as he finally took in your medical garb. “We’ll talk later.” He scoffs, and you walk off after that, set on never talking to him again.

-

High infidelity

Put on your records and regret me

I bent the truth too far tonight

I was dancing around, dancing around it

High infidelity

Put on your headphones and burn my city

Your picket fence is sharp as knives

I was dancing around, dancing around it

-

It was nothing but sobs the night your mother passed away, cuddled on the floor of Coryos floor with his arms wrapped around you, trying to keep quiet just in case his grandmother woke up.

She hated tears, always thought them a sign of weakness.

“Shhh.” Coryo whispers, petting your hair back. “It will be okay.”

“What will I do?” You sob, feeling like your chest was caving in. “How will I survive?”

“We’ll find a way.” He whispers, using the pad of his thumb to rub the tears from your cheeks. “I’m sure Tigris can get you a job, and you can move in here if you need. Just take a moment-“

“I can’t. I can’t breathe.” You panic, hand snapping to his jacket as if he could keep you planted to the earth, your breathing ragged panting as your vision begins to blur.

“No. No.” He breathes, fingers snatching your jaw to make you look at him, digging into your skin. “Focus. Breathe. You’re stronger than this. Take. A. Breath.”

You listen, breathing in the same time he does, deep and open, breathing out when he does. Your nerves calm a bit, and you close your eyes as the tears keep falling. He pushes your head until it is laying on his chest. “Your mother just died. Don’t focus on the future, just let the pain settle. You’re safe here. I promise.”

And so you did, letting the sobs free as he held you all night.

-

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?

Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes?

-

“Did….. did you see her?” Tigris asks, keeping close to the doorframe of his room, hugging her arms close to herself as she watches him work at his desk.

He feels himself tense, spine stiffening so much a wave of pain passed over him, doing his best to seem natural about it all. “She will not be coming around anymore if that is what you want to ask.”

He would make sure of it, he would make sure no one took from him or his family ever again. Not that bitch from 12, not Highbottom and not….. you. You whose face filled his brain with sunlight and warmth, you who made his chest melt and hands shake from nerves.

He loved you, always had.

But that couldn’t be anymore. He was set for a pristine life now, he could not let his weakness get in the way. He already risked it more than he should have.

“She missed you. A lot.” Tigris sighs, moving a little closer. “And she…. Well she helped us scrap together money for care packages and rent.”

“I’m sure there was something she could get from it. Don’t worry.” Even as he says it his gut clenches. He didn’t believe it for a second, but this needed to be done.

“She….. Coryo she-“ Tigris seems to stutter over the words, closing her eyes as if just thinking about it dragged her into a wave of pain. He tries not to laugh because what did she have to hurt about? Living the plush life here as he fought for them in 12, fought for them in the games. Risked his life to make sure that girl survived.

“She. What?”

“She….. well once she found out we were short on rent and she had nothing to offer she…. Slept with someone…… for us.”

“How would whoring herself out help us?” He already knew, his heart beating through his chest as his hands began to shake, clenching them into fists so it wouldn’t show. He was going to be sick.

You wouldn’t have. No.

“For money. She made us-“

“GET. OUT.” He sneers, standing quickly. “Get out right now.” He watches his cousin dash from the room with tears sliding down her face, his own kings constricting at the news.

You couldn’t have. You couldn’t have.

Regret laces through his stomach, your face flickering through his mind. Of course you would. You would do anything for him and his family.

-

Storm coming, good husband

Bad omen

Dragged my feet right down the aisle

At the house lonely, good money

I'd pay if you'd just know me

Seemed like the right thing at the time

-

It had been a fools dream long ago that you would marry for love, nothing but a dream of a child that didn’t know better, hadn't let the world destroy her yet.

Now, you knew better. Staring at your soon to be husband, Festus Creed, with a small smile playing at your lips. You were trying to make it seem like you actually loved him, like you actually cared what he was saying as cameras flashed at you both. The light of it blinded you a bit, and you tried not to flinch while he merely laughed and gripped your hand tighter.

He saved your ass and the Snow’s asses. Playing pretty little fucking wife is a small price to pay. You remind yourself when he kisses your cheek. Just pretend. Smile and pretend.

You had sold yourself to Festus in the months that Coryo…. Coriolanus was gone. When you were barely making ends meet and his cousin and grandmother weren’t making it. You had known that Tigris sometimes sold herself to people that wouldn’t really know her last name, but she hadn’t ever been able to get the primary houses due to her family's nobility.

You could.

So, you offered yourself to Creed, a classmate of Coriolanus’ and one that he had warned you to stay away from. “A viper wearing human skin.” How ironic how things turned around.

You tried not thinking about Snow at all, tried to get his face out of your mind, but every time you got close to winning against your memory, he somehow managed to pop up. Every. Single. Time.

It had been months since that initial argument the day he returned. You had been a fool who planned on confessing your love to him, planning on asking him to marry you. Then he called you a gluttonous leech, and Festus proposed a week later. It should be history.

And yet, right on cue, you spot a light blonde head of hair making his way through the crowd quickly as you and your fiancé stand quickly, the crowd of cameras dispersing at the engagement party resumes its flow.

You tried not to sneer about the sheer amount of money these people threw at everything. Just a couple months ago you had been starving, and now you can only watch as dozens of tables were set up with ludicrously decorated desserts that wouldn’t actually be eaten. “Never eat the food in front of them. Makes us look bad.” Festus has told you before your first party with all of them.

“Might I go to the restroom really quick?” You ask him, trying to move around with his arm tightly wrapped around you.

“Of course.” He smiles, giving your hip a tight squeeze before his eyebrows pinch together. “Let’s greet Snow first. I’m sure your old best friend would love to see you.”

Wish I could say the same. You bite back the remark on the tip of your tongue with a pleasant smile, allowing Festus to lead you to where your old friend was finally cutting through people. He had a grim look on his face, he always did these days, and if you didn’t know better you would assume he was upset.

“Snow.” Festus smiles, “glad you can make it. I know game keeping has been keeping your attention these days.”

Something in your stomach clenches at the words, no matter how many times people spoke of it you still could not believe that he was helping with the games.

You feel his stare in the side of your head, but you keep your eyes firmly on Festus, playing with his hair a bit as you play the role of lovestruck girl. Festus glows at this, eyes lighting up as he looks at you.

Whether or not he knows you’re using him as an excuse you can’t possibly care, he likes that you’re rubbing it in Snows face all the same.

“How could I miss this…. Joyous occasion?” Every word is clipped, and you try not to roll your eyes. “It’s wonderful that you’re family is able to take the young medic in.”

You know the underlying meaning beneath the words, snapping to glare at him. A smirk slides onto his lips as his eyes spark with excitement, it takes you a minute bro realize you had just fallen into a trap he laid out. To get you to look at him.

“Well I’m no freeloader.” You bite out. “I’ll obviously keep working in the hospital.”

Festus barks out a laugh at this, hand tightening on your hip as his other moves to hold his stomach, pure humor on his face. “Oh darling. How outrageously funny that was.”

“How was that funny?” You ask, blanching a bit.

“You’re not going to work! How would that make my family look?” Festus laughs, leaning to kiss your lips. You try to kiss back, something tightening in your throat as a sharp sting begins to form in your eyes. Do not cry. Do not cry.

“I’m going to go grab a drink. Keep our friend entertained will you?” Festus smiles, squeezing your hip once more before moving to walk away, leaving you with Coriolanus.

You risk one look to him, already seeing that he was staring right at you, and take a small sip from the Champagne in the flute as you think about how to get away. You decide on “I do hope you enjoy the party. I’m going to make my way to the ladies room.”

And for a second you think you’re brilliant, turning on your heel to walk away quickly but he is fast, taking three easy steps and cutting into your path.

“I was hoping we could talk.”

“We just did.”

“Did we?”

“What do you call that whole conversation with my fiancé if not talking?” You put on an airy smile, and fear freezes at you at the sheer anger in his gaze. Panic settles in, and you stand straighter, choosing to play offense. “Besides. You’re the one that warned me to stay away. What was it you said? ‘Or suffer the consequences’, wasn't it?”

His eyes shutter but otherwise he does a good job of playing calm, using one hand to pull imaginary lint off his jacket. “I believe so. But maybe I’ve decided I was wrong.”

“You weren’t wrong.” You snipe. “I was a freeloading wretch and now I’m not. Problem handled. We can go our separate ways and never speak again-“

“Festus was the one that paid you, wasn’t he?” His voice is low, but his eyes are screaming at you as he leans closer. “To help pay for rent. It was Festus.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You did. And he knew it, which was answer enough.

“I’m sorry you-“but you’re gone, dashing to find the bathroom.

-

You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love

The slowest way is never loving them enough

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?

Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

-

The door to the Snow Mansion caught a little, letting some of the winter air in with you, your teeth chattering as you did your best to shut it. Managing to push all your body weight into the door to finally get it closed before you puffed hot air into your palms, the sack you carried heavy in your hand as you hear someone call your name.

Then he’s there, surrounding you in what little warmth he had, arms wrapped around you as you try to ease the shivers.

“Come in. We are burning some of mothers old romance novels for warmth.” He smiles, grabbing your hand and leading you to the fireplace where there were indeed pages from novels burning quickly.

“I brought this-“ you smile, holding up the bag of the goodies you managed to smuggle out of work. “It was someone’s anniversary and they had tables of food. I grabbed what I could before they threw it all out.”

A smile breaks out across his face as his cousin and grandmother both gasp and move to surround you. Before you know it you are all huddled close to the fire, eating quickly to try and ease the hunger, Coryo sitting close to you.

Once all the food is gone his grandmother retires to bed and Tigris goes to heat up water, leaving you with Coryo by the dying fire.

“I…. I always imagined small family dinners. Always wanted it for my own family, eating close together rather than a large table.” You admit, pulling your legs close to yourself. “Never did I imagine this though.”

“One day I’m going to get us out of this.” He mumbles, one hand reaching to hold onto one of your own. “And we will have that.”

There was that feeling of happiness rising in your chest as you looked at his determined face, leaning to kiss the corner of his lips softly. “I look forward to it.” And you believed he could make it happen, you truly did.

-

High infidelity

Put on your records and regret me

I bent the truth too far tonight

I was dancing around, dancing around it

-

You could learn to love him, you were sure of it. Somehow someway you would fall in love with my Festus, provide him a child that would inherit his families vast fortune and you would see to it that your kid never had to worry about starving.

You would rake yourself over coals before letting your child do any of what you had to do.

Like right now, fake moans filtering from your lips as Festus had his way with you on a random desk in a study room you did not recognize. Not that it was surprising, this family liked their secrets.

Once he was done he smiled at you, kissing you quickly as he fixed his pants and tucked in his shirt. “Fix yourself up. We have an engagement party to get back to.”

And with that he was gone from the room, leaving you to fix the skirt and sink to the floor, using the side of the large oak desk to lean on.

The sound of the door opening barely draws your attention, sighing out as you stare at the bookshelf, trying to piece your nerves back together as you always did after Festus.

“Are you alright?” The tone was a mix between your old friends comforting voice and the new Snows voice, and you tried not to roll your eyes.

“I’m fine.” You snap, your spine stiff. “Go back to the party.”

“I should be saying that to you.” He mumbles, moving closer and sliding to sit next to you. “It is your party after all.”

“Yeah? Is it?” You mumble, scooting over slightly to get away from him. He merely follows you, sliding right next to you once more.

Before you can yell at him he is holding out a cloth napkin, filled with those crème cookies that filled the tables out there. Macarons, Festus had called them. But you hadn’t had one. Rich people liked to starve.

“Come on. We both know you want one.” He smiles.

“Does it have poison?” You snipe, remembering the reason he had been sent away in the first place. He had given that Lucy girl an advantage in the games. Poison.

“No, not for you.” He smiles, like you hadn’t just completely tried to chase him off. Then he grabs one and shoves the entire thing in his mouth, making a small laugh slip from you before you bite it down, rolling your eyes. “Do you remember my 13th birthday?”

“No.” Yes.

He had stolen sandwiches from his school lunch and you had somehow managed to steal chocolate chip cookies from some party you had been working at. You ate together in the park, huddled by a tree so no one would see you, whispering all the things you wanted to see in the world.

“It was by far one of the best birthdays I had ever had.”

“One of?”

“Well my favorite birthday was the one before the war. I got so many gifts my parents made me a playroom.” He smiles.

You try not to let the words sting, what were measly cookies to a playroom. That was the life he belonged in. Luxury.

“You won’t be working then?” He asks after a moment of silence. “I always thought you liked being a medic.”

“I haven’t been an actual medic for long.” You sneer, you had only earned the honor while he was gone. Before that you simply volunteered every morning before your actual job, taking lessons whenever you could scrounge up money.

“A short lived career then.”

“What do you want me to say? My husband won’t allow me to work then I won’t work. It’s simple.”

“I would need my wife to work.” He shrugs.

“Why? You wouldn’t want a freeloader?”

“No. I would be running for president of Panem. And I believe that a medic for a wife would help my votes.” He states bluntly, eyes catching yours as your own widen.

“I’m sorry?” But he doesn’t respond, instead he holds out that damned napkin of cookies again. And you snatch one quickly, turning away the slightest bit to eat it.

“You’ll think about it?” He asks, eyes never leaving you.

“Think about it? There is nothing to think about.” You laugh, wiping sugar from the corner of your mouth before using the desk to help you stand and stepping over him.

Before you could fully escape his hands snatch your calf, pulling you down until you unceremoniously fall into his lap. “I told you to stay away from Festus. His family is not-….. he won’t give you what you want.”

“He’s paying my rent Snow. I’m just fine.”

“What happened to family dinners? Or the 6 kids running around.”

“I can have that with him.”

“Can you?” He lets you go then, knowing his words hit the mark when your face falls.

You leave the study, trying to pretend things are fine for the rest of the day, but his words cling to you like a skin of a snake.

-

High infidelity

Put on your headphones and burn my city

Your picket fence is sharp as knives

I was dancing around, dancing around it

-

You would have loved the atmosphere of District 12’s underground space, the dancing and music, laughter falling through your ears and the best of their dancing jolting down your spine with every stomp and clap.

Though he never understood your fascination with the districts back then, during the games he was beginning to understand slowly, and seeing this he could.

“Let’s go get a drink.” Sejanus laughs, pushing him to the bar as he imagines you twirling through, stomping and clapping at the right times.

It’s that night, drunk and a bit out of it that he lets the words he had been holding back for years slip. Sejanus had been grousing on and on about how he knew Snow was a good guy by the fact that his closest companion had been a young student healer rather than a Capitol clone and Snow tried not to bristle as how easy Sejanus laughed off your history.

You had worked for everything, and yet the man in front of him made it seem like you had chosen the healer life out of pity, rather than your hardwork and dedication.

Then the words slipped, “She’s a rare one and that’s why I love her.”

His friends eyes widen, and so does snow, both breathing in for a second before a wave of laughter fills them as Lucy’s voice fills the room.

-

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?

Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes?

You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love

The slowest way is never loving them enough

-

It had taken you 10 minutes to sneak out of the Creed mansion, and another 15 to walk to Snow mansion where he had asked to meet you.

He being Coriolanus, through a telegram sent directly to you earlier in the day.

The door sticks a little, just like it used to, but the rest of the place had been professionally cleaned and you kept to the front rug in the entrance so as to not drag mud in.

“What are you doing?” He asks, coming around the corner to look at you in the entrance. “I’m in here, let’s go.”

He doesn’t wait to see your panic at the clean floors, so you rush to take off your shoes before tiptoeing to the main sitting room he was in.

“You said it was urgent.” You mumble, looking around at all the papers strewn about. Some designs of outfits and dresses, some of creatures and set ups. “What is all this?”

“This, my dear, is the 11th annual hunger games.” He smiles, and you try not to shudder at how easy he says dear.

“Oh I see, you’ll be making the tributes wear extravagant gowns in the arena then?” You hold up a sketch of what looks to be an evening gown designed for district 3.

“Tigris will be styling and dressing them before the games now.” He explains, moving closer to you. “For if they wish to be performers then we shall let them. Give them all a fighting chance.”

“Like Lucy?”

He doesn’t answer, instead moving to pick up another sketch. “And now, once they are in the arena they will all wear the same uniform.”

“They won’t die in their own clothes?”

“They’ll die at the Capitol wills it.” He sneers, taking a second to regain his composure. “But this isn’t why I have brought you here today.”

“Okay….” He grabs your hand, pulling you to the desk and showing you plans and sketches. “I need your medical advice.”

“For?”

“For a poisonous sea creature.” You rear back at that, but he is quick to snatch your hand. “I just need to know how to prolong the death.”

“I’m not helping-“

“Please. I need you.” He admits, his hand still on you. “I always need you.”

“Coryo-“ it’s the first time you’ve called him that in forever, and he can’t help but rush to you, pressing his lips to yours quickly.

You kiss back, although your common sense is screaming at you to stop. And soon enough the kiss is deepening, and he’s shoving all the documents off the table to place you upon it, making quick work of stripping you down while trying to keep his lips to you at all times.

And you were ashamed to admit you found pleasure for the first time that night, allowing him to pull that pleasure from you over and over and over.

-

High infidelity

Put on your records and regret meeting me

I bent the truth too far tonight

I was dancing around, dancing around it

-

“He’s a mad man….” Festus mumbles, hand clenched on your knee. “A mad genius but a madman.”

He was right of course, you could do nothing but blink as the games unfolded before you, surrounded by his peers and coworkers as they all cheered and booed at the tributes.

You couldn’t pay attention, the gore beginning to get to you as well as the fact that Coryo kept glaring over at you and Festus from his podium in the center, eyes narrowing as a sneer coated his mouth.

You hated these moments, when you were anxious about the affair and when Festus was in the same room with the two of you. Don’t do anything stupid, you silently plead.

But when has Coryo ever played stupid? No. Everything he did was smart, three moves ahead.

“How about a wager?” He smiles to his friends, and you bite your lip. That scheming look not good.

“Yeah?” Festus smiles. “My moneys on district 2. Girl.”

Vivi, was her name. She had 2 sisters at home and was playing viciously. She would not win though, she had been bitten by a snake with slow killing venom, you would know since you helped Coryo make it.

“No. Money is far too boring.” Coryo smiles, ever the Capitol player. “How about we wager…… the healer.”

Festus freezes, hand tightening on your thigh in a searing grip that you know has Coryo seething under his calm exterior, those blue eyes lighting with a challenge. He hated when Festus was rough, which was more often than not.

Coryo preferred to be…. Rough in the sheets and gentle every other moment.

“You want my fiancé? Don’t you have whores for that?” Festus laughs, but there is no humor behind it.

“I don’t want a whore. I want a wife.” Coryo smiles, holding out his hand. “District 4, Mags.”

People begin whispering and smiling at the challenge, and you realize why Coryo had been talking too loud then, because Festus would look weak to back away now.

Festus risks a look to you, narrowing on your shocked look before taking Coryos hand. When the blonde walks away your fiancé leans in, “we will be discussing this later.”

After he won, if he won. He would make your life hell.

-

High infidelity

Put on your headphones and burn my city

Your picket fence is sharp as knives

I was dancing around, dancing around it

-

“Your mood swings make my head spin,” you admit, laying on the mattress lazily as Coryo sits leaning on the headboard, tracing his finger across your exposed back. “One moment you’re rutting into me like you hate me, the next your murmuring love sonnets.”

“Do the Creeds actually have money?” He murmurs, fingers dancing across your ribs. “Or are they pretending just as I had been for awhile?”

“They have money, loads and loads of it. So much that they burnt some of it for fun the other day to see how long it took to burn.” You mumble, keeping your eyes closed.

“Then why do you still look starving?” He asks, moving closer to curl around you.

“Because they only eat one meal a day, and it’s more of….. well they don’t like gluttonous people.”

“Surviving is gluttonous?”

“The rich have never made sense.” You admonish. “They starve themselves to prove they can, no sugar or dairy. No this or that. They don’t know hunger like we did.”

“I thought you were marrying him to stop that hunger.” He mutters, a bit of anger in it.

“I also have a roof over my head and warmth. There is more to it.” You sigh, not wanting this to be another argument as it was every week. “There’s nothing we can do Coryo. I get married after the games.”

“They talk about you like you’re a pet.”

“To them I am.”

-

Oh, there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love

And it's never enough, it's never enough

-

“So this is what he does now?” Festus sneers, whipping his tie off as he storms into his room, dragging you in with him.

The games would last another night it seemed, and Snow sent everyone out as he was getting ready for the big finish.

“He is making it all one big game. Placing wagers and gambling. It’s bullshit!” You try not to roll your eyes at his outburst since he had been all about it before Coryo called him out.

But apparently you still somehow rolled your eyes and his face falls into pure rage as he begins charging for you. Fear coats your system as his hand latches around your neck, cutting off oxygen.

Before it could get worse there is a knock on the door.

“YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!” His little sister calls, turning on his screen to reveal the games, where many of the players are fighting a very large creature in the body of water.

“What is that?” Festus gasps.

“A sea monster.” You breathe out, watching with a small amount of excitement mixed with disgust as Mags plunges her spear into its eye.

-

Lock broken, slur spoken

Wound open, game token

I didn't know you were keeping count

Rain soaking, blind hoping

You said I was freeloading

I didn't know you were keeping count

But oh, you were keeping count

-

You married him on April 29th, a year later he ran for president and to no one's surprise he won.

You became First Lady of panem. And would of course bear tons of children.

He kept his promise, eating close together every night, making sure all his kids were well fed and never knew the hunger you both did. And when your youngest was blasted in the tabloids for her ‘pudginess’ Coryo made sure to send the writer and his family to District 7 and the very next year the oldest daughter of the family was chosen in the reaping.

You lived in constant disgust and amazement, the battle never ending.

You helped him come up with ideas for creatures and implemented healing and medicine into the games to at least give some of those kids a fighting chance.

“Remember when I warned you to stay away?” He asks one night, watching you from his spot on the bed as you get air at the window.

“Quite vividly.” You laugh, breathing in the night scent in his shirt as he lay naked save for a sheet. “Said I was a freeloader.”

“I was trying to push you away.”

“Gathered that.” You nod, watching him extend a hand before shuffling across the floor and climbing across the bed until you reach his hands where he pulled you in for a warm kiss.

“You are a freeloader.” He teases, his lips still against yours. “You owe me so much.”

“Oh do I?” You laugh.

“Yeah! You owe me a can of beans, never got paid back for that.” He smiles and you can’t help but laugh.

“I’ll go get the dirtiest can of beans, expired, and it will be just like old times.”

Before he can say anything else you are pushing to kiss him again, falling into his warmth with a hum and letting him drag you under the sheet.

(Yeah. It stayed in the draft because I never quite liked how the story worked….. something always seemed off. I rewrote this 10 times back then, but since I am releasing my old drafts this baby is out now. )

[lightlycareless]

Do you think at any point in Naoya’s life that he was ticklish and do you think that as an adult he might still be ticklish? Lately, I’ve been thinking about how if Naoya maybe had one part of his body that was still pretty ticklish that he tries to keep quiet about since he doesn’t wanna embarrass himself until somehow Y/N finds out 🤭

Heya!!

Aww, this was unbearably fluffy cute ngl. Anything that has Naoya acting like an actual, dorkish human is enough to have my heart all ajghajksgha uwu. Hope you enjoy this small thing I wrote!

warnings: fluff. mentions of pregnancy. .....pee I guess. hahahahahaha it's meant to be cute, everyday pregnancy things I swear lmao. a bit of highschool au.

happy reading!!

Ticklish Naoya is one of those things that no one ever saw happening mainly because… well, it’s not like anyone is testing it out to see if it’s true, you know?

No one had it in their minds to approach the heir, place their hands on his sides and tickle him to see if he’d have some kind of reaction.

No one, except that is, you.

It was a silly bet, whether ignited by your curiosity or perhaps your need to be unnecessarily close to him, either way, you’d find yourself in that exact situation one fateful afternoon, under the pretense of wanting to get some hands-on training experience with the only other excellent sorcerer you trusted!

And of course, having a small crush on you as well but yet to confess it, Naoya didn’t deny the opportunity, completely unaware of your ulterior motivations, until it was too late.

“You said you wanted to… test your accuracy?”

“Mmhmm.” You innocently nod. “I’ve been having issues with my aim as of lately, maybe I need to be tested under pressure? No holding back punches if you know what I mean!”

“Are you sure?” Naoya asks, hesitant to pursue this course of action if there was the slightest possibility you were to end up hurt, and worse—by him.

“Yeah! I’m sure.” You insist. “We won’t have to do much, I just wanted to test this out.”

“Alright, then. What do you want me to do?”

“Just… stand there, first—” you say, carefully gently guiding him into position; it’s almost surprising to see him willingly go along with your ideas, for he was often… dismissive of others. Well, he did say he didn’t find you as annoying as the rest, but was that all there is to it? A part of you hopes not.

While your initial purpose was to find out if Naoya was ticklish, you couldn’t help but get a bit sidetracked by the firmness of his muscles underneath your palms, his intoxicating scent you’ve grown to solely associate with him regardless of where you found it, and why not, the height difference that became even clearer now that you were a few mere inches away from him.

All these things, besides others, inevitably made you wonder how it would feel to be embraced by him, held tight against his chest as he rested his head above yours, professing his affection for you as he swore to never let —

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he asks, cutting through your daydreams.

“Oh—Nothing!” You chirp, scrambling to hide the embarrassment of your cheeks by looking away, to no avail of course, because for an equally smitten man like him, he could be nothing but attentive to you, pondering if he’d done something in this short moment of silence to enact that kind of response from you, or more likely… how adorable you looked, his mind quickly assuming this would be your reaction to when he finally kissed you.

Unless this was caused by someone completely different. He held no proof of this short-lived accusation, but his mind was eager to accept this burning jealousy, loathing the notion that you already belonged to—

“Are you ready, Naoya?” It was your turn to distract him, Naoya blinking as you take position before him.

“Ye—Yes. As ready as I’ll… ever be.”

Going back to your initial purpose, you had to be very careful not to show your cards if you wanted things to go as you wanted.

So, you played along, asking him to do the things you wanted in hope of getting his guard down, which worked, Naoya following your lead, down to the smallest details… until it was finally time for the grand finale, the moment you were eagerly waiting for!

After a few rounds of training and acting like you were still unhappy with your results, you’d find yourself in a position where Naoya’s back faced you, in a completely innocent, unsuspected manner that almost had you feeling bad for misusing his trust: but your curiosity proved to be far greater, much stronger, and when the opportunity presented itself…

You tackle him! Hands quickly landing on his sides to tickle and pinch him as much as you could to earn a reaction from him, which you were joyfully granted, much to your enjoyment and surprise.

“No way, Naoya—you’re actually ticklish?!” you’d giggle, continuing your attack as he began to squirm underneath your hold.

“Y/N—what in the—what are you doing?!” Naoya gasps, confused by your abrupt actions—was this part of your plan all along?! Or did someone—did someone pay you to it?! Is this being recorded??! “Stop it, now!!”

But you didn’t, no matter how red his face got or how much he attempted to pull you away, you simply couldn’t, because his reaction was far better than anything you imagined!

“I would’ve never thought!” you continued, enjoying the fluster on his face which you naturally thought cute, or his laughter… things you’ve never seen on him before that just made your infatuation grow even more.

“Enough!” Managing to regain his strength through your attack and embarrassment, Naoya is finally able to take your hands and pull them away from him, moving you before him to place you in the same position as him.

You don’t need anything else to happen to understand the gravity of your miscalculations, to remember there was a reason why everyone urged you to steer away from provoking Naoya, as tempting as that was, because one way or another, you’d always end up paying the price.

Just as he intended to do so now.

“Let’s see if you like that!”

“No—wait, Naoya—!” and so, he pressed his fingers to your sides, erupting a loud laughter from you which you desperately tried to hold back, whether by pressing your lips together or trying to ease his hold on you, but he’s always been much stronger than you; and whatever struggle you put up he quickly squashed, all for the sake of revenge.

Though that desire would disappear soon after upon hearing your sweet laughter for the first time (so close, that is) alongside your warmth and scent that reminded Naoya why he harbored such strong feelings for you in the first place… never wanting this moment to end, not even when you uttered the following.

“Naoya, stop it! Seriously!!” you laughed. “You’re—you’re going to make me pee!!”

And then, whether because you wanted to highlight your urgency, or simply because it felt right to do so, your face turns around, raising your gaze to his and locking on each other’s eyes—

A simple, quick gesture, but more than enough to make everything stop, your laughter, his smirk, his hands…

In favor realizing the “compromising” position your innocent prank had put the two—the closeness, the… the intimacy!

A fact that has you instinctively pushing away from him, face red (and not from laughing too much, not anymore) as you try to push aside these growing feelings of embarrassment, thinking perhaps it was best to walk away now before this situation grew into a bigger misunderstanding!

Well, fortunately for you, the answer would easily present itself when he said the following statement.

“Y/N—Did you—Did you pee yourself?”

“WHAT?!” You shrieked, Naoya flinches.

Of all things he could’ve said, he just had to go with that one.

“Why—why would you even say that?!”

“I mean—you—"

But you didn’t even prove Naoya a moment to explain himself before you were already out of the training grounds, swiftly making your way across the hallways and back to your dorms, where your startled roommate would worriedly ask if everything was ok, why were you so exalted, and weren’t you supposed to be with Naoya?!

“I just did the most embarrassing thing in the world!” you cried as you plummeted on the bed, pulling the cover over your head as you wished the earth would just swallow you whole! “I made a clown out of myself in front of the boy I like, and I will never, ever be able to take that back!!”

“Y/N, surely you’re exaggerating—” she attempts to comfort you.

“No! You don’t get it!” you gasp back. “I’m never showing my face ever again, ever!”

Your roommate simply sighs, taking a seat by your side and patting your back.

“… Oh, he’ll hate me and make fun of me forever. I just know it!”

Unless… fast forward to a few years, you might be proven wrong.

“You know what I just remembered, Y/N?” Naoya says, looking up from whatever report he was going through that evening.

“What?” you murmur, taking another bite of your endless craving—mochi.

“That one time you tried to tickle me, but it backfired so badly, you ended up peeing.” He smirks, your face instantly turns red.

“What?! I didn’t—I didn’t pee!!” you cried. “That’s not—You and I remember that day very differently!”

“Really?” he snickers. “I remember you avoiding me immediately after, can you blame me for thinking so?”

“That’s—I was just embarrassed for being so close to you!! And to make it all worse, you had to say that! Of all things, seriously! Did you actually think I was going to stay around ???” you fret. “I mean… I genuinely thought you were never going to speak to me again after that.”

“You know it would take much more than that for me to stop talking to you.” Naoya says. “Though it’s quite ironic now, isn’t?”

“What is?”

“You tend to do that quite frequently nowadays.”

You blush.

“Only because I’m pregnant, you idiot!!” you frown, smacking him on the arm, Naoya laughs. “Hey, it’s not funny!”

“But it is true, my love.”

“You’re making it sound like I have some severe bladder issues…” you exclaim. “I’m carrying your baby; in case you’ve forgotten!”

“How could I forget I’m having a family with the love of my life?” he says, moving closer to you to take you into his arms, placing his hands over your growing belly.

“Sweet talk isn’t going to save you, Naoya…” you frown, even when angry, your hands still seek his touch.

“Perhaps not, but maybe… chocolate will?”

“…And?”

“And maybe some diapers too—” he jests, you gasp.

“That’s it, you’re sleeping on the couch!”

“I’m just kidding, princess!” He laughs, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Nothing but an innocent joke.”

“Won’t be so innocent if I ignore you for real this time!”

“Then I guess you won’t be eating those chocolate I got you from that place you love…”

“… those from… Kyoto?”

Naoya nods.

And just like that, the whole ordeal was forgotten immediately after.

Until he finds out something else to tease you with, because just as they said, whatever you unleash on Naoya, he’ll unleash on you, tenfold.

relentless naoya is relentless. he's a total tease, about time I wrote it. Also, DAMN I think I've never written y/n being totally smitten by him??? like pinning after him?? it's either her towards geto or him towards y/n. lmao

anyways, i'm still in that fluffy domestic mood, and this was the perfect opportunity to show that. akgasgasjiga I mean, it's cute right??? I like it. y/n being spoiled by naoya........ though he's a bit cruel sometimes.... haha. aw, I love them.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this!! Thank you so much for your patience!! 🥺💖 I really did enjoy writing this, as I always do with all the things y'all send me.

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!!

Edit: omg I never really answered your question, but yesssss I do think he was ticklish. But let's be real, who is going to know that?????? You'd probably come to find that one out when hugging him and sensing him tense up. :) for a variety of reasons. Hehe