#Which they FOUND but it was never enough gold

[lilithrosexoxo]

Ch. 3 Meal

Sunlight gleamed through the parted curtains painting the room in a warm glow. You pull off your cashmere weighted blanket with a yawn and a stretch moving your stiff muscles. After Jinwoo left you quickly passed out after taking another bath and changing your clothes since your previous ones were soaked in your slick. Your face heats up at the thought of last night and you feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you. You still can’t believe that you came from just being licked on your scent gland but it shouldn’t surprise you. You were still a virgin and haven’t even so much as kissed another person. As prime omega your parents were insistent on keeping you pure for your future alpha. Not to mention with the connection between you two all of your senses were heightened around him. His smell, his touch, his voice, his eyes, everything about him was simply perfect to you. As you imagine his tongue on you, your thoughts become inappropriate as you imagine his tongue in other places and you immediately feel slick start to pool in your panties. You groan at the feeling and your scent permeates the air. How on earth were you going to function around the man if the thought of him has you creaming your panties.

“By the goddess I’m insatiable”, you think to yourself, “maybe I should take care of myself before going down for breakfast”, and with that you retreat to your bed to handle your problem.

xoxo

After 3 orgasms you finally feel satiated enough to get ready. You allow your handmaidens into your nest and dress you in a simple but elegant gold gown while they braided your hair into a fishtail braid. Finally ready, you decide to head downstairs and join your family for breakfast. You head into the dining room to see your family and Jinwoo already seated. To your displeasure Elowen has taken a seat across from Jinwoo and was attempting to flirt with him but she was being completely ignored. Your brother Aldwin sat by Jinwoo’s right side and his left side was empty as it was reserved for you. He was engrossed in a deep conversation which brought joy to you. Out of all your siblings you and Aldwin had the closest bond and knowing that your alpha was having a good conversation based on his chuckle had your omega purring in contenment. 

Jinwoo’s eyes looked around as he felt another presence in the room and his eyes lit up as he saw you.

“Wow she’s beautiful”, he thought to himself. While you looked stunning in the moonlight you looked absolutely radiant in the sunlight, “the lunar goddess has truly blessed me”, he thought. He quickly gets up and pulls out your chair for you.

Your face heats and you look down as you take your seat finding it hard to make eye contact when he is looking at you with such an intense gaze.

“Princess Y/N it is a pleasure to see you in the sunlight, you look divine”, Jinwoo says as he takes your hand and kisses the back of it.

You feel lightheaded from feeling his soft lips against your skin but quickly regain your composure and finally look him in the eyes and by the lunar goddess you don’t think you’ll ever be able to get over how such a perfect being was your fated mate. 

“It’s good to see you as well my alpha”, you say silkily.

Jinwoo feels himself throb in the confines of his pants at hearing you call him your alpha. His eyes begin to glow lilac and you think you’ve done something to offend him but he simply chuckles and returns to his seat.

“Y/N, are you and Apha Sung really fated mates?”, the baby of the family, Reign asks with round eyes. Even though he’s only 15 he’s already found his mate a strong alpha that spoils him rotten. 

“We are fated mates, the feeling was just as mother described it all these years. I would’ve never imagined it would be Jinwoo”, you say as you look down.

“I think you found the perfect alpha Y/N and I’m so happy for you. I told you, you weren’t cursed”, says Aldwin with a smug grin on his face. You often vented to your brother about how you swore you were cursed to live a lonely life but he always reassured you that you would find your mate. You feel immensely grateful that his words were true.

“Can we please have this conversation over breakfast? Mother I’m starving, we spent forever waiting for Y/N. What were you doing that took so long?”, your sister Liza asks, eyeing you up and down. You didn’t look that much different then your usual get up so she can’t imagine what took so long.

Jinwoo chuckles and you look at him confused. He laughed like he knew exactly what you were up to that morning and oh shit knowing him he probably did. Then the realization dawns on you, Jinwoo can implant his soldiers into peoples shadows and view them directly from their eyes. You looked at him eyes widening as he just looked at you with a knowing smirk.

You bury your head in your hands. You can’t believe you forgot one of Jinwoo's key abilities. You can’t believe he saw that you were riding your toy like a bitch in heat and moaning his name the entire time.

“Th-There’s no reason to discuss what took me so long. I just wanted to look good enough for my alpha”, you say pretending like you’re not drowning in a pool of your own embarrassment but the scent wafting from you betrays you. Thankfully your family decides to not question you further and your mother rings in the chefs.

A grand feast is laid before your family which is reasonable, your parents did have six omegas and that size doesn’t include your mother or Jinwoo making it a party of 8. You’re pretty sure the chefs are trying to impress Jinwoo as there are a variety of meats laid before the alpha. You take in the spread there are pancakes, waffles, toast, eggs, blueberry muffins, fresh fruit which includes dianach, redamia, salal, and thorny peaches, fresh orange, pineapple, and grape juice and even a large pitcher of ambrose wine. There are typical meats such as bacon, sausage, and ham but you can also smell the more exotic meats the chefs must have brought out for this occasion such as griffon meat, ice bear meat, and even filet steaks from a wyvern dragon. The room smells heavenly and your family wastes no time digging in. 

The twins Ifrit and Shiva are fighting over who had claim to the muffins which you found amusing considering that there were a dozen that were baked but meal times were often like this. Even though you were all omegas you had a healthy appetite however, your appetites dwarfed in comparison to Jinwoo. You saw him load plate after plate of meat, eggs, and cheese and you kept in mind to reach out to the chefs later for more cooking lessons involving meat. While you excelled at vegetarian dishes your skills with meat were subpar at best.

“So Jinwoo do you think you could want any concubines?” Elowen asks without a hint of shame.

You choke on the waffle you were eating. While concubines were common in the royal kingdoms, if an omega couldn’t keep up with her alpha’s sex drive it was uncommon for prime alphas and omegas as the connection was so deep that the bond prevented them from wanting to have sex with anyone else.

You felt a low growl emanating from you before you could even stop it. You felt like you were seeing red. Your omega was furious and you slowly felt yourself losing control. Your claws and canines lengthened and sharpened, your eyes began to glow, the smell of burnt rubber danced in the air.

“Oh you’ve done it now Elowen, don’t expect me to bail you out”, Aldwin deadpannes as he continues to chow down on his meal. 

How dare she!? Was it not enough that she had her own mate and now she’s trying to move in on yours? You just found your fated mate after all these years alone. Watching your friends and family find their mates while you sat on the sidelines. Jinwoo was YOURS. You feel your control over your omega slipping as the seconds go by. You were about to lunge across the table and gouge out her eyes until you felt an arm drape around you and squeeze you to a firm chest.

“Calm yourself princess Y/N”, Jinwoo whispered in your ear as he caressed your face lovingly before addressing Elowen, “That’s Alpha Sung to you and I have no intention of having anyone else from now on other than princess Y/N”, he spoke in a calm but stern voice.

At that you felt yourself relax but took note of that he said now. That means Jinwoo must have experience right? Then a realization hits you. You were about to attack your sister and from the looks of it everyone would’ve allowed it if Jinwoo didn’t stop you. You don’t know what came over you but the thought of your alpha with another drove you up the wall and had jealousy coursing through you. Were all fated mates like this or was it different since you were a prime omega? By the look in your mothers eye you knew that to be true.

With that breakfast thankfully concludes and the servants come in to clean up.

“Alpha Sung, Y/N I think a trip to the garden would do you both well. Get some fresh air, take in the scenery, it’s important for you to get to know one another before your lunar union” your mother states as your siblings get up to leave the room except for Elowen who is still shooting heart eyes at YOUR alpha but you know there’s nothing to worry about. Jinwoo is loyal to you and no one else and that soothed your omega and anger at your sister.

“Come with me Jinwoo I’ll take you to the garden”, you say as you take his hands in yours.

[thisisjustfanfic]

Cleaning up the Timeline

{Xavier takes you shopping and comes to a realization. Zayne has a nightmare. And Rafayel gets a treat.}

Read on ao3.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance, Maid AU, Eventual Smut. SFW (For now)

Chapter 5: Shopping

Saturday finally comes, to your palpable relief. You’ve never been so excited to go grocery shopping– or at least, you were. Until you see a neatly hand-written note left for you on the kitchen counter.

Y/N,

I apologize but one of my patients needed emergency surgery early this morning. I won’t be able to accompany you shopping. Please allow Xavier to chaperone. I will see you for supper. 

Zayne

You sigh and fold the note, putting both it and the credit card with it into your pocket. Zayne’s penmanship is hasty but legible, and so distinctly him. Especially when doctors have that bad rep for having illegible handwriting. 

You’re not sure what the game plan is. Should you look for Xavier? Or should you take some initiative and go to the store by yourself? Zayne texted you a list the day after you started here and you’ve added a few things in the short time you’ve been working. It’s funny to see the favorite for each of them listed, and you spent one of your breaks trying to guess which one of them ordered what. 

You assumed the tea and peppermint candy is from Zayne. The spicy chips and ‘ Chilean Sea Bass (NOT FROZEN)’ and the three other types and very specific fish are Rafayel. Xavier and Sylus are harder to guess for, but you assumed the protein powder was for Xavier (he’s a hunter after all. Needs the protein). And the chunky peanut butter must be for Sylus. 

It’s just guesses, but it makes you feel a little closer to these new roommates– employers? What are they to you exactly? Certainly not friends, though Rafayel likes to play hot and cold enough that maybe he’s an enemy. 

You put on your coat, the borrowed gloves and scarf, and tap away on your phone in search of the nearest store. 

Unluckily for you, it’s over a twenty minute one-way walk, and that’s to a convenience store. Not even a proper grocery. You scowl, remembering the frigid temperatures and that your bike is still parked on the other side of the city. Not that you could do a good grocery haul on a motorbike anyway. It’s not too far of a walk for nicer weather, but you worry about the state of your toes and lugging all the food in the snow. 

Luckily, for you, Xavier appears. Tucking a coat over his shoulders and adjusting the collar. He wears a deep grey-blue coat that’s cut just below the waist with shiny gold buttons.His gloves are white, along with his scarf, and you ponder– who is styling these men?

“Are you prepared?” He asks like you're heading into battle. 

“Where do you normally shop? I found a convenience store but it’s over twenty minutes walking.” 

 “I can drive us.” He answers as he pressed the elevator button. “There’s one store that the others insist on. It’s called…” He pulls out a piece of paper from his coat and reads it, “...Harrison’s Grocery.”

“Did Zayne leave you a note too?” You chuckle as the two of you descend to the garage. 

“He wanted to make sure I took you to the right place.” Xavier lets you exit the elevator first and you turn to wait for him. His expression is passive, neither seeming irritated nor pleased to be assigned your babysitter for the day.

“I appreciate your help. I promise when the weather is nicer I can go myself.” You assure, waiting for him to show you which car is his. 

“It’s fine.” He replied, sliding up to a sleek chrome number, the most modern of the collection. A sleek silhouette with little breaking up the single line from bumper to bumper. 

Xavier barely beats you to the door handle, opening it for you. You’re a little startled by the chivalry but smile gratefully as you climb in— he even hovers his hand near your head to make sure you don’t hit it. Such a subtle action, but it makes your stomach flip. 

When Xavier starts to drive, you're grateful to see the snow has finally stopped. The car is eerily quiet, and the soft whirring when he accelerates tells you it’s entirely electric. A stealthy vehicle for a peculiar hunter. 

While the days of petrol and diesel engines are gone, a fully electric vehicle is almost vintage. Hyper-efficient hydrogen engines are the norm now, or vehicles that run on protocore synthesized fuel. 

It takes almost fifteen minutes to get to the grocery, and you take note of the turns he takes so you can take them too. And when you arrive, you open your GPS on your phone and tag it. It’s a family-owned store. The reviews that pop up under the GPS listing rave about the friendly atmosphere and its owner. 

Xavier opens your door too and you thank him. The store is larger than you’d thought it’d be for a family-owned grocer, but it’s nice. When you enter and see the diverse selection of produce and the huge meat and seafood section, it makes sense. 

You open the list, grab a cart, and get started. Mumbling along as you grab things with Xavier hovering over your shoulder. He doesn’t comment much as you walk through the store, adding something here and there that isn’t on the list. You only grin at him– perks of being the babysitter, you get treats. 

You’re in the meat section, browsing the cuts in the display while you wait for the butcher. The greying man behind the counter approaches, and you read off from the list the half dozen cuts that are there. 

Xavier steps close to you, suddenly in your space and looking at you with a serious glint in his eyes, “Can you cook steak?”

Your brow creases, “Yeah? I mean, I guess? What kind?”

“Yes.” Xavier replies, and turns back to the butcher, “Three more sirloins, and a pound of skirt steak, please.”

“You like meat, I take it?” You ask as the butcher gets started on your oversized order. Xavier places his hands on his hips and nods, the soft feathery ash-blond hair bouncing. 

You collect the paper wrapped order and place it into the cart, having saved this for last before you check out. It takes a few minutes to get through everything, and you're hoping next week won’t be such a big haul. Stocking up on the longer term storage necessities they were lacking. 

“I saw a recipe for marinated skirt steak in an article not too long ago.” You say to make conversation while you check out, “How does that sound?”

“How long does it take?” Xavier asks, handing you a loaf of bread and then a box of pasta. 

“Usually overnight, but it can only be a few hours if you’re really hungry.”

Xavier opens his mouth to answer you, but a shift in the air pulls his attention. His brow’s knit together, and his expression turns stony as he looks out the open windows just beside the checkout. 

You turn to, halting in place as you wait for whatever it is that caught his attention. There was no sound. No rumble. But now that you paused, you could feel it. The tiniest shimmer in the air, like static electricity. 

A Wanderer? You have just enough time to think before the sudden rush of energy shudders through the parking lot and rattles the windows. The patrons in the store shout and startle, jumping back as a pair of rocky knaves and a glowing violet obscurum terror through the lot, crawling over cars and crushing them. 

Reflexively your hand goes to your hip, expecting the familiar weight of your firearm but finding nothing. An empty pocket and a reminder that you're not a hunter right now. 

“Stay here.” Xavier’s low command hums in your ear, as he slides past you, rushing out of the store to face the sudden threat. His gloved hand slides across your back. A physical touch to reinforce his order. 

Tossing the bread back into the cart, you decide to immediately disobey. Instincts you had thought dormant come rushing back, and you search for a weapon. An aisle with kitchen utensils is the best bet, and you find a pair of long, steel knives. Breaking open the packaging you grimace at the poor excuse for a weapon– especially against a Wanderer– but beggars can’t be choosers. And you’ll pay for the knives later.

Outside the store, Xavier�� though you don’t know where he was hiding it– has a long narrow blade only pausing for a single moment before he lunges forward. The three Wanderers roar at him, howling as Xavier’s sword finds its mark. He’s nothing but a streak of light– a careening asteroid causing precise destruction. 

Wielding your pair of kitchen knives, you jump into action, heart pounding and head rushing in that delicious elixir of adrenaline and endorphins. The thrill of danger and of purpose. 

Xavier elegantly slashes at one of the knaves as the round obscurum attempts to lunge at him from behind. You leap forward, crashing into the beast with your shoulder and rolling to slice at its hardened hide with your knives. 

Xavier looks over his shoulder as the knave disappears into the stardust, and gapes at you and your little knives. You realize you must look insane. Neither dressed nor armed for battle, but brandishing some kitchenware like a straight-to-streaming slasher flick. 

“I can’t finish them with these!” You bark as you flip them in your hands, pointing the blades back to give you better leverage to shove the blades downwards onto the remaining knave's head. 

If Xavier replies, you don’t hear him. Only the song of his blade as it finds the obscurums weak point and banishes it back to the ether. 

In an effort to be helpful, you keep the knave busy. Preoccupying it with your ineffectual weapons. When the steel of your knives skid off the armor of the Wanderer for the third time however you toss them aside, dropping low and side stepping as it slashes at you. You manage to get around it, and you jump onto its back. It’s the more humanoid looking Wanderer’s but it’s big. Big enough to make climbing its back a challenge, but not so big you can’t get your legs around its middle and get into a makeshift headlock. 

A high pitch screech leaves, more enraged than hurt. With all the strength you can muster, you force the hollow head of the knave backwards, exposing the crystalline orb in its chest to Xavier’s front lunge. The tip of his sword cracks through the violet orb and the Wanderer releases an earsplitting howl and you feel the solidity of it begin to crumble. 

It dissolves into nothing but specks of light, scattering in the wind like forgotten dust. You jump back and onto your feet, brushing yourself off as you pant wildly. 

“Are you alright?” Xavier asks as he tucks away his sword and approaches you. Unlike you, he’s not breathing heavily in the slightest. 

You look up and can’t help the manic grin on your face, “That was some great teamwork!” You cheer, “Remind me to bring a gun next time though!”

Xavier just stares at you. His eyes are slightly wide and his breath is still. He looks frozen, and you tilt your head with a sheepish grin. You take his hand and shake it, though his grip is loose. 

“Good work, partner.” You say as you begin to walk back to the store, hoping to finish the trip you’d started, “Let’s finish up and head home.”

It takes him a minute to follow you, and he’s quiet the rest of the trip. Silent as you check out, wordless as he helps you put the groceries in the car, and the ride back is spent with nothing but the soft whirring of the car and the low volume of the radio. 

Anxiety gnaws at you, a corrosive pit in your stomach. Had you upset him? His hands are tense on the steering wheel– aggressively so, but he doesn’t say anything. Is he mad you defied him? Angry you stepped in? You thought you’d been helpful, given the circumstances, but maybe he didn’t see it that way?

It made the ride back a thousand times longer, and unloading the car painfully awkward. Xavier was silent as he set the last of the bags on the countertop, and he was walking away before you could even open your mouth to awkwardly thank him. You watched his back as he escaped down the corridor, and before he left your sight completely you noticed something. 

Were his hands shaking?

You tried to not let your mind speculate as you put away the groceries, making a mental list of everything and a meal plan for the upcoming week instead. The reactions from these men were so peculiar. Did they like you? Or not? 

The only one you felt even halfway certain about as Zayne, and that relationship was becoming harder to define the longer you lived here. 

As you put the last of the pantry goods away and sighed for the umpteenth time, you heard footsteps entering the kitchen. 

Xavier had returned. Dressed in a soft knit ivory sweater and jeans. In the soft midday light he looked almost ethereal. All soft edges and sugar coating. But his face was deadly. A look sharper than his blade that stared you down as he strode forward. Pressing into your space and pressing his hands to the sides of your face. 

He moved your face upwards, forcing you to look at him. He wasn’t bulky so the strength behind his gesture was surprising, because when you tried to pull away you didn’t manage to gain an inch of distance. 

“Look at me.” His voice was low, hushed growl. The warning of a wild beast that you hear before you can see it. 

Unlike his last command, this one you obeyed. Meeting his celestial eyes and the ravaging storm in them. His light colored brows were furrowed, barely tempering a rage swelling behind them. You blinked owlishly under this unexpected attention, unable to even wonder what he was doing, or why.

So, you just stood there. Hands out at your sides, unsure of where to put them as Xavier kept you pinned with his hands at your cheeks. He was searching for something. Scoring your face and your eyes like a message in disappearing ink may reappear if he focused hard enough. 

Once the initial shock of it had passed, you decided to wait. Maybe this was some kind of punishment? Some hazing to reinforce the pecking order because you’d jumped into a fight that should have been his?

“Is this because of–?” Your voice is barely a whisper when you finally find your voice, but he presses his thumbs into your cheeks firmly and shakes you ever so slightly. 

“Hush.” He mumbled, some of the sharpness leaving his expression. Whatever he was looking for, he wasn’t done, and he seemed keen to keep you there until he was satisfied. 

“Don’t tell me to hush.” You hiss back, irked. 

“I’m looking for something.” He explained, like that was get-out-jail-free. 

“Is it personal space?” You quip, tilting your chin down to sneer at him, “Or manners?”

Xavier blinked once, and the interrogation swimming in his eyes melted away. He’d found it. Whatever it was. Without the crease in his brow and his mouth pressed in a firm line, he looked so young. Boyish almost with those soft baby blue eyes and youthful blonde hair. His hands didn’t let go at first, and it felt like he was suddenly seeing you for the first time. 

“Is this because of the Wanderers?” You asked, continuing your earlier interrupted thought. “I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. I know I wasn’t much help but–”

“Where are your weapons?” Xavier asked as he finally released your face. You expected him to take a step back but he didn’t, remaining inside your personal bubble like he belonged there. 

“My firearm is upstairs, locked up.” You explain, “The others are in storage. I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring them all here– since it’s not my home.”

Xavier looked pensive, eyes drifting away from you in thought before he nodded and right back to you they went, “We’ll go get them in a few days. I’ll take you.”

Your stomach did a funny little flip, twisting in something similar to nervousness but also fluttery, “Why?”

“A Hunter should always be ready and armed.” Xavier explains, parroting a sentiment given to trainees in school, “I’d feel better knowing you followed that statue, especially if you’re so prone to jumping into battle so recklessly.”

“I was armed.” You argue, but realize it’s a poor one. “I even paid for the knives afterwards.”

“How are you here?” Xavier almost laughed, and sounded almost wistful. Like he was asking you how you’re here as in “how are you real?”.

You take a step back and cross your arms, “I needed some help, Zayne needed a housekeeper. I thought he explained that to you.”

It still stung, remembering the circumstances of how you got here. The pit of nothingness you’d fallen into that had led to your suspension and ultimate eviction. It wasn’t anyone’s business besides yours and Zayne’s, and it was too embarrassing to just blurt out to these strangers.

Xavier scoffed in a soft laugh and smiled lightly, “Right. Right he did. Well, you shouldn’t go too long without training. Maybe we could go together sometime?”

You felt like you might get whiplash. “Seriously?”

“You’re not planning on staying a housekeeper forever, right?” Xavier probed, tilting his head slightly, “You need to keep your skills sharp.”

You turned away from him and opened the fridge, fiddling with the organization of the fruit so you didn’t have to look him in the eye. “I guess I wasn’t really thinking about it. I haven’t….I haven’t trained in a while.”

You hadn’t done anything but the bare minimum for months. No extra training or exercises. No picking up extra shifts or patrols. Clock in. Shoot at Wanderers. Clock out. Rinse and Repeat. Until slowly but surely uo hadn’t held your gun for over a month, and hadn’t seen a protofield for two. 

“We can train together.” Xavier’s voice was feathery soft, full of something warm and syrupy that it hadn’t had before. “How about Monday morning? Before I go on patrol?”

You closed the fridge, the cool air cutting off and leaving you under the warm gaze of this beckoning friendship. 

That tired part of you didn’t want to. Didn’t want to train. To fight. To keep moving forward with pep and a smile. All that part of you wanted to do was sleep. But you were tired of indulging that venomous part of your mind. That tar pit of despair that had been slowly but surely consuming you. 

“Sure.” You forced yourself to say, despite the pit in your stomach. “Do you train here?”

Xavier nodded, “If you haven’t trained in a while, we’ll just do some basic workouts. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” You say, a little relieved. The idea of running through the training that academy had put you through sounded like torture. The battle simulations and evol training until you felt worse than a threadbare wrung out rag. 

Baby steps, you told yourself. Get back into training. Get another hunter to vouch for you and you’d be back to work in no time. Xavier had offered you asn express ticket back to your old life. 

Although, why did it feel so horrible to accept it? It felt like going back to a home with no one there. To a place that was now nothing but rubble and ash. Where you were greeted with memorial portraits instead of smiling faces. 

Baby steps. You repeated in your head again. Baby steps. 

Xavier spent the rest of the day lingering in the living room. The TV was on, and some quiet-spoken cooking show was playing, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was listening to you. He’d resolved to not follow you around the house like his mind had initially wanted, and settled for glimpses of you as you bustled about. 

He could hear you hum as you dusted the stairwell, and watched you from the corner of his eyes and you swept the hallway and mopped it. It felt wrong to watch you do menial work like this while he just watched, but something told him you’d shoo him away if he tried to help. 

Xavier couldn’t decide what to do now. What do you do when you realize something that shouldn’t exist not only does exist, but is dropped onto you like Newton’s apple. This was an impossibility. The four of them had agreed it was impossible, and they’d made their peace with it.

Resigned to a reality without you in it. Sentenced to exist with each other but without that which tied them together– an archway missing the keystone. A painting missing the centerpiece. An unfinished puzzle with the remaining pieces stolen from them. 

Things weren’t adding up. The puzzle had always been askew, and they’d made assumptions based on the information that they had. But now? Now they needed to start from scratch. Rethink everything they thought they knew. 

Only there was a problem. It’d been over a year since they’d spoken openly about their predicament. It wasn’t ideal– their living arrangements, but it was better than the alternative. Better than isolation. Better than falling into whatever pre-woven fate had been made for them. 

Getting them to convene again would be tricky, especially without proof. Speculation was a honey-trap of hope that would be undue punishment for those who were still hurting. Each of them had suffered in this reality. In this new life. All they had was each other, or that’s what they’d thought.

Sylus and Rafayel were animals. Wounded beasts licking at their wounds and wasting time with different exploits. 

Zayne was…Zayne. 

The sound of you in the kitchen pulled Xavier from his thoughts and he realized he’d dozed off. Lifting his head, he turned to see you pulling food from the fridge to start cooking. 

It was painfully, gut-wrenchingly domestic. An image he hoped he could burn into the back of his eyelid so that when he slept it was you that he saw. 

It's been so long. He didn’t even know how many years it had been. This life…this reality. It had taken so much time to find his way here that his mind was too full and his heart too old. It forgot what it felt like to be near you. So when it happened again, the sensation was so foreign he didn’t recognize it. 

But when you’d turned to him, sweat on your brow and the thrill of a battle won humming in your evol, he’d known. He recognized you like one recognizes their own reflection– changed, different, but unmistakably his. 

Xavier rose and decided to help you, even if it was just holding vegetables or stirring a pot. The distance between here and there was too much, and he wondered if his heart kept up this rapid pace if it might actually give out. 

Talking to the others could wait. They were likely to come to their own conclusions soon enough– his talk with Sylus had made that clear. 

For now, Xavier would relish in this realization and pretend that nothing else existed. No past life and sacrifice. No alternate reality. No separation. No death. No Astra. 

Rafayel was wandering around the darkened house in the wee hours of the morning. The rest of the house had been asleep for hours, even Sylus was back– probably crashed onto his bed still covered in gunpowder and rubble like when he’d walked in an hour ago. 

The house seemed….warmer somehow. And he didn’t need to ponder much on the reason why. Rafayel knew the reason the minute he’d walked into the living area to see you and Xavier scrambling over a smoking pan like a pair of startled wrasse. 

Xavier knew. Rafayel saw it in the way the blue-eyed man moved , orbiting around you like a lost satellite. A long-forgotten star he was finally able to see again. It would be cute if it wasn’t almost pathetic. 

Rafayel was bitter. Something in him shriveled up. Seeing your face didn’t spark the awe or rush of sentimentality he thought it would. It just…hurt. 

Ached like a wound that would never truly heal. Nerve damage and corroded bone making sure he’d feel that pain with every step. With every breath.

Pathetic. That’s what he’d thought when he’d seen Xavier all starry-eyed and gooey, but was he any different? Rafayel scoffed at himself and his own unfortunate circumstance. He was just as pathetic. Just as lost. A little boat lost at sea unable to stop itself from following the current of the ocean, drifting towards you without a paddle to even fight back from. 

He could pretend his heart was closed, and that he was just playing. Nothing real. It wasn’t real, he’d tell himself, but that was a lie. It was as real as the insignia burned into his chest. As real as the ever shifting tide, he was the ocean and you were the moon. Waters chasing after you in a perpetual, impossible dance. 

A crash from down below broke him from his swimming thoughts, and Rafayel’s brow furrowed. An intruder? Not possible. 

Another sound and Rafayel decided to check it out, for curiosity’s sake of course. 

He passed by your bedroom, slowing to see if you’d woken, but found it was silent within. Satisfied you were still asleep, Rafayel descended the stairs and went to find the source. 

The hall was dark, only a low light in the kitchen giving off any sort of illumination. Another low thud sounded and Rafayel entered the living room. 

Zayne was near the windows, hands pressed flat against the glass with his head hung low. He was panting, ragged frightened breaths that sounded painful and rough. 

Rafayel paused, waiting. 

Zayne, noticing the new presence turned, eyes blazing as they landed on the dormant sea-god. 

“Y-you…” Zayne rasped, voice strangled and hoarse. “Raf–yel.”

Rafayel relaxed slightly. Good, it was one of the versions of Zayne that remembered him. Which one though? 

“What’s going on?” Sylus was there, having come up the back staircase and waiting at the edge of the room just as Rafayel was.

“It’s another nightmare.” Rafayel explained, “He remembers me, so that’s good.”

Sylus looked over to Zayne with a stern expression, “Not Dawnbreaker then. That makes this easier.”

“Still sore from that?” Rafayel prodded with a chuckle, but Sylus didn’t seem to be in a joking mood. Recalling the last nightmare Zayne had had and the vengeful and dangerous Dawnbreaker demanding answers they didn’t have and lashing out at whatever moved. Funnily enough, of all of them, the only one Dawnbreaker remembered was you.

“Zayne,” Sylus said, voice almost a coo, “It’s alright. Calm down.”

The silver haired man approached the man in distress. Zayne clenched his eyes shut and shook his head, fighting something unseen in his mind.  He groaned and slumped further down the window, looking out through them like he might recognize the clearly foreign scenery. 

“Where am I?” Zayne was ragged, confused and frightened. He stood up taller and gripped the side of his head, “Where…where is she?”

Sylus kept a safe distance, but approached like one approaches a rabid dog– anticipating the inevitable bite. “She’s safe. She’s asleep. She’s here.”

A moment of clarity crossed Zayne’s face, and he turned to Sylus in disbelief. “Here? She’s alive? She’s here?”

Sylus nodded, reaching out, “This isn’t the world you know. It’s different. Your plan? It worked. We escaped.”

Another wave of pain nearly sent Zayne to his knees, and Rafayel stepped forward just a step behind Sylus– ready to help.

When Zayne looked back up, his flickering eyes shifted from Rafayel and then over to Sylus, “Sta–Stary–”

Sylus took Zayne’s offered hand and pulled him into him. The dark haired man all but collapsed against him. “It’s me. I’m here. We’re all here. You can rest. It worked. It worked.” 

Zayne shuddered in an exhale and gripped at Sylus’ shirt. “It worked,” Zayne chanted breathlessly.

“They won’t find us,” Rafayel said as he stepped forward, placing a hand on Zayne’s shoulder and squeezing. “Rest, Foreseer. Let us carry on now.”

Zayne sighed and relaxed, the fight of his warring spirits finally easing, and Sylus only had a single moment to catch him before he collapsed.

“Get his feet,” Sylus said as he lifted Zayne’s shoulders as gently as he could, “Let’s get him back to bed as quickly as we can.”

A soft rumbling overhead made them both freeze. Footsteps in the bedroom above. You were awake. 

“Dammit.” Sylus cursed.

“She can’t see him like this.” Rafayel hissed. “Carry him back, I’ll put her back to bed.”

Sylus’ eyes narrowed a bit but then he nodded, crouching down to unceremoniously toss Zayne’s limp body over his shoulder. Gentle and easy would have to wait. You couldn’t see them like this– too many questions. Not enough answers. 

Rafayel rushed back upstairs, making it to the hallway just as he saw your door begin to open. Scrounging his mind for a plan, he found himself freezing, words rushing in mind but none finding his lips. 

“Rafayel?” Your sleepy voice was slightly hoarse and you were even rubbing at your eye when you spied him. 

“Hey cutie…” Rafayel whispered, “I can’t sleep. You too?”

You were half-asleep. Eyes barely open and one of the straps from your sleep shirt had fallen down your shoulder. The curving line of your neck from your jaw down to your clavicle and over to your shoulder is a serpentine temptation. 

“I thought I heard something. Got worried.” You hummed, eyes practically drifting shut. “What’s wrong? Nightmare?”

Rafayel could eat you up. A sleepy little morsel he could swallow whole before you even had the awareness to know you were between his teeth. You were gluttonous supper before a starving supplicant, divine and not to be touched. 

And what a perfect, innocent opportunity you had presented to him. A test of his morals and willpower. Placing sugar candy upon your fingertips and expecting him to not lick it clean?

“Yeah, a nightmare.” Rafayel’s voice was rougher now, thicker with the rumble of a predator. “Can I lay with you for a while?”

Perfect, innocent sacrifice. Perfect devout follower. You rubbed at your face and looked at him with pity before nodding and turning to let him in. “For a little while.”

Rafayel slid past you and into your room, a wolf slipping through the cracks of the fence into the pasture. His little lamb climbed into her bed and nestled beneath the blankets unsuspecting and warm. 

With all the willpower he could muster, Rafayel did not pull back the blankets and invite himself inside. Your hazy mind would likely barely remember this interaction in the morning, and he wouldn’t take advantage…well, more than he already had. 

“What did you dream about?” You're asked, partially muffled by your pillow as Rafayel lay down next to you. 

Rafayel felt his heart pounding like the thunder of a war drum. Boom Boom Boom. It charged like a horse into battle, but his body remained still. Your eyes were closed and your form relaxed, sinking into the mattress and over abundance of plush cushion. 

He stopped himself from reaching out and touching you. Like a valuable work of art only to be admired and not sullied. Fingertips left marks, and he couldn’t…he wouldn’t. 

Not yet. 

Rafayel took a deep steadying breath. This was not how he thought this night would go, but what a fun turn of events. Zayne and his…affliction. You and your endless temptation. 

He considered your question for a moment, and answered even though he knew you were already asleep. “Drowning.”

[justsomeominousthreats]

Trump is a better man than whoever provided the semen got you.

Actually my father and mouthed are wonderful people who have done better things in their lives for the simple people around them than Trump has in his whole life. And they’ve done things for rich and ‘powerful’ without expecting it to benefit themselves.

The fact that your on anon shows that you have far too loud opinions for your own fucking scaredy cat pussy self. So politely? Stfu. I’m not even American and Trump being president messes my life up. I don’t know what YOU get out of having a crazy, nut job with no life, bitches, happiness and is just generally fucking insane racist, misogynistic, psychopath but you do you.

Just keep your shitty, no brain, no properly thought out opinions out of my vibe. Thanks 😊

Any other Trump supports that decide to come to my blog to be a fucking asshole because you can’t see past your fucking own dick on how life isn’t just about you(AND Once Trump is done tearing us, the POC and gays, down, who do you think he’s going for next? Use both your brain cells dumbass. Unless you loss them too🤭)

Thank you for reading my rant! Go kill your opinion and re evaluate yourself. You don’t deserve an opinion or freedom to talk until you do! <3

[rubysevens]

the more i think abt it the more i think the far right idea of ireland historically being this “pure” island separated from the world around it before its colonisation is just an inversion of british ideas abt ireland which cast it as this backwards place only connected to the world through british influence. and instead of rejecting that framework and investigating the ways in which ancient ireland did play a role in the broader world before colonisation, the irish far right decided that england was completely right about ireland, with the only difference being that they see this mythical isolation as the ideal to be returned to.

edit: i cant believe i have to make this clearer but this post is criticising the irish far right for their hateful and ahistorical beliefs. migration is not colonialism nor is it the cause of irelands problems. it is a morally neutral act.

[motionpicturesforcarrie]

im the victim of toxic yuri ⚰️

[alg3a]

auspicious (pt. 1)

jayce x f!reader x viktor / jayvik x f!reader

4k, sfw for now, no use of y/n

description: Viktor and Jayce’s new lab assistant is the hottest topic at a council gala. After defending herself all night, an accidental confession leads to tension in the workplace.

warnings: suggestive content, brief and light misogyny (don’t worry), manipulative reader, lab assistant dynamic, basically the last third is foreplay.

a/n: This is my first ever tumblr fic! If you guys would like, i will add an nsfw second part.

Update: second part added!

Say what you will about Councilor Salo, but his galas never disappointed. There must have been three hundred of the city’s most influential people scattered about the grand ballroom, which stretched further than you could see with your naked eye. It was the first you’d ever seen of these exquisite parties, and you silently hoped that it wouldn’t be the last.

You’d been the lab assistant of the two Hextech partners for around three months now. With the public eye being enthralled with the activities of the two intelligent scientists, it wasn’t long before the spectacle included you, their pretty new lab assistant. You were in your final year in the academy’s undergraduate program and had been a promising enough engineering student to be hired by Viktor and Jayce. Your name was a prevalent one in every inventor’s competition and innovator’s fair, so naturally they had heard of you before your interview. From what you heard, there were nearly fifty other applicants (mostly girls) and yet they hired you on the spot. Naturally, once this story aired, the press was obsessed with you. Piltover Gazette did an entire piece on you about a month into your employment.

With all the attention, Jayce thought it might be a good idea for you to tag along at galas and parties as the plus-one of both men. They never brought dates, so the position was always wide open. Although, Jayce did usually leave with a plus-one.

You wore a deep red sleek gown with a plunging neckline and an absent back. The men matched their ties to your dress, but the rest of their outfits were mostly black and ivory. It wasn’t long before you were whisked away to the dancefloor by influential older men, who talked your ear off about how lucky you must find yourself to be shadowing two promising young inventors. You cringed each time you heard it. You were certainly lucky to have landed the position, but the way they phrased it made it seem like you were some teenage girl who was asked to the school dance by the two cutest boys in school. It wasn’t as trivial as that. Each day, you worked tirelessly alongside their genius minds to find solutions to real world problems using Hextech. You and Viktor spent countless nights asleep on opposite ends of the worn lab couch so that you could continue working at any hour.

Eventually, you grew tired of the misogyny from older male benefactors. You’d done enough socializing for the night, now it was time to patronize the open bar.

You found a spot between a woman in a gold dress and a man in a white tuxedo and asked the bartender politely for a whiskey sour. Once you finished speaking, the man in the white tuxedo turned to you.

“I recognize you,” he said, the scent of his aftershave mixing with the alcohol on his breath. “You’re the Hextech girl, aren’t you? I read your article in the Gazette.”

You sighed as the bartender handed you your drink, pressing a polite smile to your lips with the exhale. “Yes, that’s me. It’s a pleasure.” You hold out your hand and he brings it to his lips with a kiss longer than you would have liked.

“The pleasure is all mine, dear,” he said, setting his glass down. “You know, it’s very uncommon for an undergraduate girl to land such an auspicious spot amongst lead researchers at the academy.”

Here we go again. In the time it takes for him to finish the same spiel you’d heard all night, you finish your drink in one continuous sip. You punctuate the end of his sentence by putting your glass down roughly on the counter.

“Yes, I’m incredibly lucky,” you say, your polite smile turning vaguely murderous. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jayce and Viktor approaching the bar.

“Enough prattle from me,” the man says and holds out his pasty hand once more. “I think it’s time for a dance.”

“Are we interrupting?” Jayce asks, his usual charming smile adorning his chiseled face.

“Not at all!” The man in white says, jovially. No doubt feeling blessed to speak to the men whose egos he spent the last five minutes stroking.

“In fact you came at the perfect time,” you say, smushing yourself between Jayce and Viktor, and wrapping your arms around their arms, emboldened by the alcohol and desperate for a way out of this conversation. “We were just discussing how positively fortunate I am to be working for two accomplished, ambitious, handsome young inventors.”

Viktor furrows his eyebrows at you, then looks back up at Jayce. “Is that so?” He asks, suspicion dancing in his eyes.

“Yes,” you nod emphatically, then bring your attention back to the man in white. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry I’ll have to decline your offer to dance. But I’m sure you understand. When a young woman like myself is called upon by men so far above my humble station, I simply must recognize how—what was the word you used earlier—how auspicious my position is.”

The man seems lost in your rambling, but you notice Jayce and Viktor smiling at one another and avoiding the man’s gaze.

“Ehem, well alright,” the man says, finally. “You three have a pleasant night.”

“Thank you,” Jayce says, his smile becoming a smirk. “We will.”

Jayce places his hand on your lower back and guides you away as Viktor follows, now placing his weight on his cane.

“Are we missing something?” Viktor asks.

“We came to check up on you,” Jayce said. “That guy at the bar was eyeing you like you were his next cocktail.”

“Gross,” you shudder at the thought. Jayce’s hand rubs the exposed skin of your lower back gently. Your eyes dart toward the ground at the sudden awareness of the intimacy of the touch. You shrug off the chill heading up your spine. “Please, never invite me to one of these again. I’ve heard enough old men insinuating that I’m the lab’s little piece of ass.”

“They’re saying that?” Viktor said sharply, stopping in his path as he turned to face you, his hand on your shoulder.

“Well, not exactly that, but practically every conversation is monopolized by my male counterpart lecturing me on what a privilege it is to spend my days ogling at you two.”

Jayce snickers a bit, but Viktor shoots him a stern look.

“That’s highly inappropriate. I’m terribly sorry you experienced such a blatant display of the antiquated beliefs these upper houses hold.” Viktor shakes his head as if he is shaking off the experience like a dog drying off.

“Vik and I were just talking about leaving, anyway,” Jayce says, his hand resuming its ministrations on your back. “We can call a car and go, just say the word.”

You look around the room and remember the reason you’re here in the first place. Galas are the primary way for the two inventors at either side of you to network and receive funding for their projects. Jayce abhorred the politics and the whole reason exhausted, introverted Viktor even bears the social tedium of these parties when he’d rather be slaving away in the lab is because he knows none of their ventures can be broadened without doing the dance. In a singular moment you realize that if they can stomach the routine dreariness of the social game that these parties provide, so can you. You are their prized assistant after all.

“It's okay,” you shake your head. “It’s really not that bad.”

“Are you sure?” Viktor asks, his head tilting.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you nod. “I just have to get used to the manner at which these sorts of events go on. But I can do it. If you’ll recall, adaptability was a strength on my resume.”

This earns a laugh from both of the men. Jayce removes his hand from your lower back to rub your shoulder softly. “I think we glossed over that part.”

Viktor stops laughing suddenly, which elicits a raised eyebrow from you.

“What?” You ask, your eyes darting between Viktor and Jayce. Jayce’s lips press together in a tight seal as if he caught himself letting something slip. “What do you mean?”

Just in time to save them from the obviously impending awkward situation, a man in an all black suit approaches.

“Gentlemen, if I may borrow your lovely assistant for a dance–”

You felt your cheeks growing hot with every word he spoke. You were so incredibly tired of old men here thinking they could just ask politely and receive your body to use in whatever stupid waltz they wanted to try their hand at. “Gods, I don’t–”

“My apologies,” Jayce said, interrupting what he was sure would be an outburst on your part. “I’m afraid our lovely assistant is spoken for, for the rest of the night.”

Viktor punctuated his sentence with a nod and a gentle squeeze of your upper arm.

“I see,” the man said, his face betraying his civility. “Well, find me if that changes.”

As soon as the man was out of earshot, Viktor released your arm. “Call that car, Jayce.”

“On it,” he said, already beginning to make his way to the front of the ballroom.

“I’ve been where you are,” Viktor said, his nimble fingers trailing downward from where he had been squeezing your arm. He lifts your hand and places it on his wrist so that you cling to him as the two of you walk toward the exit together. “When I was Heimerdinger’s assistant, I was often undermined. Although, I had the distinct privilege of not being a beautiful young woman. While I can relate to your frustration, the misogyny and objectification you’re experiencing aren’t exactly things Jayce and I have experienced. But we’re going to do our best to quell it for you.”

You look up at him and find his hardened expression fixed on the door. “Thank you.” Those two words will suffice for now, but Viktor’s promise warms your heart in ways that a simple thank you cannot express.

Jayce finds the two of you as you exit into the grand hallway. “Car’s waiting outside.” He takes his coat off and drapes it over your shoulders, not paying much attention to your hand on Viktor’s arm.

The three of you pile in the back of the limousine. You sit sandwiched between the two men, relishing in the warmth radiating from their bodies after the few steps outside in the cold night. Viktor stretches his leg outward in the spacious backseat while Jayce leans back and groans. Clearly you aren’t the only one exhausted from the antics of the night.

“Where will I be taking you three?” The driver asks, his eyes visible in the rearview mirror.

“Two stops, if possible,” Jayce speaks up, leaning forward once more to be heard better. “The laboratory block of the academy and the East Dormitories.”

“You guys are going to the lab? It’s almost midnight.” You ask, turning to Jayce before realizing how the proximity of the backseat brings your face so close to his.

“Always work to be done,” Jayce says, glancing over your face before giving you a little more space. “But don’t worry, you’ve had a long night. You don’t need to do any assisting again until tomorrow morning.”

You look over at Viktor momentarily, to see him staring out the window as the car begins to move.

“If it’s alright, I think I’d like to go to the lab, too,” you say, softly. You can’t help but feel as though you’re inviting yourself to some clandestine meeting, as if you don’t have as much of a reason to be at the lab as they do.

Jayce looks over at Viktor, not for confirmation but for something else. Humor, maybe?

“Of course,” Jayce smiles softly. He shifts his attention to the driver again. “On second thought, just take us to the labs, please.”

The driver nods as he picks up speed and peels out of the driveway. For some reason, your heart pounds. It isn’t abnormal for you and the two men to stay ridiculously late at the lab. In fact, it’s more common than leaving before midnight.

You become suddenly aware of the long slit that opens your deep red dress, and you cross your legs.

“Jayce I wanted to ask you something,” you say, mustering up the courage to recall the slip-up from earlier. “What did you mean when you said you glossed over my resume?”

“Well…” Jayce looks over at Viktor, which makes you do the same. Now he’s definitely paying attention, his eyebrows two firm lines scrunched above his angular nose.

Viktor finally decides to chime in, and you know exactly why: Jayce isn’t a good liar.

“We had lots of applications,” Viktor said. “You know that.”

“Yeah, but…then why did you hire me?”

“You had a very promising interview,” Viktor says, now avoiding eye contact.

“You’re lying to me,” you say, more accusatory than you meant it to be.

“We should just tell her, Vik,” Jayce mutters, almost under his breath. In response, Viktor’s hard expression softens. Perhaps out of relief?

“Tell me what?”

“Fine,” Viktor says, finally, with an exhausted sigh. “I’m too tired to persuade you against it.”

Jayce puts a hand so low on your thigh that it’s almost on your knee. “First, it’s important that you know that we would have hired you regardless. You’re so incredibly talented and you’ve been such a good assistant; we have no doubt in our minds that you’re the perfect person for this job.”

“Regardless of what, Jayce?”

“A little help, Vik?” Jayce asks after a sigh of helpless frustration.

“We sent everyone else home after your interview,” Viktor said, still looking out of the window, his arm resting on the ledge of the door, fidgeting with the handle. “When we saw you for the first time, we decided we wanted to see you more often.”

“What?” You feel your face growing hot. Anger? Something else entirely?

“The first note I wrote during your interview just said ‘beautiful,’ and I don’t think I wrote anything down after that,” Jayce admitted.

“You can’t be serious,” you say at a volume so low it might be a whisper. Anger. Definitely anger. “All night…all night I was swatting away guys who were objectifying me…accusing me of just being your pretty little assistant. I thought it was just misogyny. I thought they just couldn’t believe a girl was capable of keeping up with you two…but apparently they were right.”

“That’s not the case, at all,” Viktor said, louder than you’d ever heard him. “It couldn’t be further from the truth. We weren’t objectifying you. You deserve respect for your accomplishments, and those accomplishments are numerous.”

“He’s right, it’s not like we just hired you to look at,” Jayce said, trying to reconcile the situation. “And it’s not like I didn’t write notes during your interview because there wasn’t anything to write. I stopped writing because I was captivated by you.”

Suddenly the weight of the situation falls onto you, all at once. These men, your bosses, your best friends, the two smartest, most accomplished scientists in Piltover…they were attracted to you.

“For three months?” You ask, softly, more to yourself than to them.

“Yes,” Viktor answered. “We understand if you’re upset with us.”

The car slowed to a stop against the curb of the laboratory building of the academy.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to go into the lab anymore,” Jayce said, beginning to lean forward and opening his mouth to address the driver. “Hey, sorry, could you–”

“No,” you say, your words final. “I’m going into the lab with you.”

Your lips are a deep red firm line. Your eyes are unreadable, and neither of the boys can tell what you’re thinking. Even you hardly know, but one thing is certain: you find yourself in an auspicious position. You didn’t need the two boys to validate you for everything listed on your resume. They knew you were intelligent, and more importantly, you knew. What you didn’t know is that they found you beautiful. So much so that they hired you just to see you more often.

You’d spent the whole night trying to defend your own honor, being shaken by men with accusatory, wandering hands. More than that, you’d spent the night wandering awkwardly for the benefit of your bosses. Now, it was time to return the favor.

“If you’re sure,” Jayce said, pushing open the car door and stepping out onto the curb, holding it open for you as Viktor exited through the other door. As you brushed past Jayce, you let his coat fall delicately down your shoulders, revealing the deep backline of the dress.

You turn over your right shoulder, just enough for your face to be past profile, and narrow your eyes at him. “I’m sure.”

Once Viktor is out of the car, the three of you walk toward the large glass doors that lead to the lobby of the laboratory building. You stop in front of the keycard sensor and watch as Viktor pats down his pant pockets in search of his key card.

“Sorry, one second,” he says.

You approach him, with no sound but the clicking of your heels on the cold pavement below, and slide your hand into his coat pocket. You watch his jaw clench, never taking your eyes off his face as you pinch the plastic card between your pointer and middle finger. You pull it out like a cigarette before waving it in front the boys’ faces and tapping it against the small metal sensor. It beeps with a green flash and you hand the card back to Viktor. Neither of them says a word.

You enter through the glass doors, but at the lack of footsteps behind you, you turn around. The men still stand, staring at you, mouths slightly agape.

“What?” You ask. “Aren’t you coming?”

Jayce coughs, as if fighting something in his throat, then takes a few steps forward and follows you.

You press the call button on the elevator and wait as the boys stand on either side of you.

“If you’re upset with us, please say so,” Viktor said, his voice bordering pleading.

“Upset?” You tilt your head to look up at the man beside you. Even in heels they were both taller than you. “Do I look upset?”

“I–uh well, I am not sure. You look…focused.”

You were definitely focused. Yes, you were playing with them. Wasn’t it only fair that you return a bit of the awkwardness provided by their sudden confession in the car? This was you getting even for that embarrassment, and you’d soon be getting even for the long-kept secret, as well.

“Strange,” you say as the elevator door opens before you. You step in and turn to face the door. “Jayce, press four.”

He does as you say.

“And how do you think I look, Jayce?” You ask, your eyes shifting toward him in the confined space of the elevator. He repeats that same little choked cough from before, except now it sounds closer to him clearing his throat.

“I think you look very good.”

You smile at him. Not a kind one, but the sort of condescending smile one gives a child who gave the wrong answer. A cute answer, though.

“Thanks,” you say, your eyes returning back to the door. “But I was asking if you thought I looked angry.”

The door beeps open and you are the first to leave. As you walk down the long hallway, you hear the boys walking a yard behind you. They’re nervous, that much you can sense on the cold bare skin of your back.

You stop at the lab door at the end of the hall and wait for the boys to catch up. It’s the biggest lab on the fourth floor.

Viktor now has his keys at the ready and unlocks the large wooden door, then holds it open for you to enter before the two boys. How spoiled you are.

You saunter into the lab, letting Jayce’s coat fall all the way down your shoulders before draping it on a stool next to the counter. They attempt to ignore you, bee-lining toward their desks in the lab but you catch each time their eye wanders to you on the opposite side of the room. Often they alternate, glancing over while the other is talking about the equations they're working through or the tools they need to assemble something. Every so often, they look over at you at the exact same time, following whispers you can’t quite make out, and when they do it is absolutely silent.

Meanwhile, you’re pouring the wine that you’ve been stashing in the cabinet meant for volatile chemical solutions. You’ve laid out three glasses, but you only fill the one in the middle. You sip from it slowly, your eyes peeking out from above the glass rim so you can catch them every time they look over at you.

“What are you doing?” Jayce asks, exasperatedly, finally.

“What do you mean?” You ask, and continue to sip your wine.

“We said we were sorry–”

“No, actually you didn’t.” You finish your glass and set it back down between the two empty glasses. “You said you understood if I was mad. And you tried to explain yourselves.”

“We are sorry,” Viktor said. “Terribly sorry. For lying, and for…objectifying you.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t objectification?” You said, still bitter despite the joy you extracted from teasing these poor boys.

“It doesn’t matter what we think we did or did not do,” Viktor said, the thickness of his accent swallowing his nervous words. “What matters is that you are hurt, and that we are terribly sorry.”

“I’m not hurt.”

“Eh…you’re not?” It wasn’t often that Viktor sounded confused, so you relished the question.

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Jayce asked.

You poured wine into the two glasses on either side of your own and smiled as you looked down at the liquid filling them. You pushed the glasses toward them and raised your eyebrows expectantly. As if well trained, they walked over to you at the counter and picked up their glasses, taking small sips each.

“You could call it disbelief,” you said. “Or plain shock.”

“I understand that we sprung a lot on you all at once–” Viktor started to say, but you raised your hand.

“I’m not in disbelief because you’re attracted to me, Viktor, I’m far too self-assured for that.”

Jayce stifles a laugh.

“I’m in disbelief because I’ve wasted three months pretending not to be attracted to either of you,” you say, coming out from behind the counter and going to sit on the couch in the center of the room. You’d done an excellent job decorating their lab and had managed to make it feel like a home rather than a detention room.

“What are you saying?” Jayce asks, setting his glass down and stepping toward you. Viktor follows his example.

“I’m saying that if you had just told me ages ago that you two felt that way, I’d be laughing at the men who asked to dance with me tonight instead of clenching my fists. I’ve spent three months pushing aside any thought of you two outside of professional settings because I didn’t want to be the naive little lab assistant fawning over her bosses.”

A strap of your dress slips off of your left shoulder, and you let it.

“What a waste,” you scoff as you lean back into the cushions of the couch. You pick your hair up so that it falls over the cushions and cascades like a waterfall.

“So…” you watch as the gears in Jayce’s genius brain turn, “if we had told you sooner then–”

“Then you could have had me sooner.”

NSFW PART TWO????

[qingyuns]

— i won’t let you fall down, unless you’re in my arms

alternatively, the 3 times kinich saved you from falling and the 1 time that he was the one who fell

pairing: kinich x gn!reader, wc: 2.8k, two or three swear words, reader has a pyro vision because mualani kinich reader burgeon team is a funny hc i have, ajaw makes 2 brief appearances, fluffy but ig they don’t do that much?? pre-relationship and confessions (does this count as a confession), title from an nct dream song (rains in heaven), pls reblog ty

1) The fall that was Pacha’s fault

You were never one to back down from a challenge, not when your pride was on the line. And presently, it was. It was an unfortunate mistake on your part when you’d been a little too cocky, bragging about your rock climbing skills, and as an even more unfortunate result, a friend of yours from the Scions of the Canopy had decided to dare you to climb an actual cliff near his village.

“I’ve got all the equipment,” Pacha had exclaimed. “If you’re really that good, then this should be no sweat.”

You’d narrowed your eyes at him. You couldn’t tell if his smile was mocking or not.

“No problem.”

But now, as you looked up and tried to find another edge to grasp at, you were wishing you had backed down. Seriously, this cliff was just a flat canvas of orange. What were you supposed to hold onto?

“Stupid Pacha,” you hissed to yourself as you reached for a bump in the cliff face. “Stupid cliff.”

Man, you wished you had a Geo vision. Then you could probably create some kind of ledge to rest on. Or maybe an Anemo one would be more useful. You could make yourself float to the top.

You were also never one to be afraid of heights, but as you glanced down, your heart jolted at the distance between you and the ground. Too high. Much, much too high. Your Pyro vision hung uselessly at your hip.

A second glance told you that Pacha was no longer anywhere to be found, and you cursed him under your breath.

“Okay, don’t panic. Just don’t panic and don’t fall,” you huffed. “Easy enough.”

Your palms were moist, your fingers were suddenly too smooth. And just when you risked a second to wipe your hand dry on your leg….

….the other one slipped, and you were falling.

The organ in your chest seemed to stop. This is it, you thought, I’m dead. You were falling, and falling and falling, until suddenly, while your eyes were squeezed shut and your stomach was leaping like a wild Koholasaurus in water, you were flying.

It took you a second for your brain to orient itself, to realise that you weren’t in fact dead yet, but when it did, you felt an arm wrapped securely around your waist, so tight that it was almost painful. You peeled your eyelids open. In your limited view, your saviour was nothing more than a head of dark hair and a blur of green attire. The surrounding cliffs were reduced to blobs of colour as you were swung through the air, down then up, down then up, until your feet were once again on solid ground.

Your knees almost collapsed once you were, and both of your saviour’s arms moved to steady you. A blink. Two blinks. You waited for your breathing to return to normal, then your eyes flitted up to meet theirs.

A kaleidoscope of green and gold greeted you. Huh, pretty.

Your saviour let out a strangled sound, something between a choke and a grunt, and released you. Oh. Had you said that out loud?

“Uh, sorry,” you coughed awkwardly. You took a step back, fiddling with your fingers. “Thanks for saving me.”

With the bandana that was tied over his forehead, it was difficult to discern his emotions. He gave you a curt nod. “You should be more careful.”

A distant yell made both of your hands turn, and you saw the tiny figure of Pacha rapidly approaching and waving his hand at you. By the time he’d closed the distance, which to his credit only took about eight seconds (so he must have felt at least a little guilty about almost letting you die), the guy beside you had vanished.

“Are you okay?” Pacha exclaimed as he skidded to a stop in front of you. You nodded, and he let out a sigh of relief, before looking around curiously. “Was that Kinich?”

2) The fall that was a Tepetlisaurus’ fault

The next time you met Kinich (‘Malipo’ Kinich, a Saurian Hunter who according to Pacha, was transactional, blunt and borderline reclusive), you were on the cliffs by the Children of the Echoes, picking Saurian Claw Succulents as a favour for a new friend of yours, a sweet young girl by the name of Kachina.

And maybe you shouldn’t have been crouching so close to the edge of a cliff, but how you were supposed to know that a Tepetlisaurus burrowing in the earth would come straight for your footing and uproot you, effectively tossing you off the side? Really, it wasn’t your fault! It was just some kind of ninja saurian.

This was only the second time you’d ever fallen off the side of a cliff, but for some reason, you were hardly surprised when the same person came to your rescue this time.

He looked at you blankly as you clutched at the succulent in your hand, eyes darting around to avoid prolonged eye contact. You were sure he probably had an eyebrow raised under his bandana.

“Do you make it a habit to throw yourself off every cliff you come across?”

You flinched. “Well, no.”

His arms crossed over his chest, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes were drawn to the tattoos exposed on his biceps. The teal suited him, you thought absently.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a screeching voice. “Well, what’s your problem, then!”

A flashing myriad of yellow and green flitted into the air. The creature that had popped up from behind Kinich was … strange, to say the least. A strange, blocky thing. It looked strangely flat, like a hundred tiny, flat, square blocks. Were you going insane?

Kinich sent an annoyed glance towards the creature, before looking back at you to see that your mouth was now agape as you stared.

“Oh, right. You haven’t met Ajaw.”

“Oh,” you muttered, suddenly feeling fainter than you had when falling off the cliff, “so this is Ajaw.”

The blocky creature expanded around the middle (you supposed that was the equivalent of puffing out its chest). “Aha! So you’ve heard of the Almighty Dragonlord, K’uhul Ajaw, have you? Tell me, peasant, what have you been told? That I’m ferocious and powerful?”

Kinich sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. You blinked at the creature. You thought back to what Pacha had said – “Ajaw. He’s Kinich’s saurian companion. Really weird little guy. Super annoying.”

“Yeah,” you assented, “something like that.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Kinich sighed. It took you a second to realise that he wasn’t talking to you.

“Maybe you should shut up, Kinich!” Ajaw’s eyes angled themselves into a glare, and he fluttered around agitatedly.

The response he received was a flick of a gloved hand, which sent the Saurian soaring into the sky, until you couldn’t even see him anymore. You were pretty sure you’d never blinked as much in your life as you had in the last five minutes.

Kinich turned to you. “Sorry about him.”

“Um, that’s alright,” you said half-heartedly.

“So how come you’ve fallen off another cliff?”

Yikes. He must have thought you were either insanely insane or tremendously stupid.

“A Saurian knocked me off the side when I was picking succulents,” you muttered, cheeks flushing with heat.

He hummed. You weren’t quite sure what that meant. “And the other time?”

 “Um, my friend dared me to climb the cliff. So I did.” You winced. “But I swear, these are the only times I’ve ever fallen off a cliff.”

It was a sentence you never thought you’d have to say. How embarrassing. You waited for the inevitable scolding or mocking to fall upon your ears, but then—

“Alright,” Kinich nodded easily. “Maybe try to avoid cliffs from now on."

Then he turned around, and started walking away. The sudden departure made you recoil in shock. Was the conversation over? Pacha really wasn't exaggerating when he said Kinich was reclusive.

"Huh? Wait a second!" You weren't sure what came over you in that moment, but you had a startling feeling that you couldn't let him leave here.

He paused, and turned to look at you, head tilted slightly to the side.

"Um, hold on." You thought for a moment. How to make him stay for longer? "Are you free right now? I'd like to treat you to a meal, if possible. You know, to thank you."

Your hands clasped in front of you and you fiddled with your fingers.

Kinich blinked slowly for a moment and stared at you. For a horrible moment, you thought he was going to decline, in which case you would have had to turn tail and flee on the spot, but instead, he nodded.

"I have some time."

You brightened. "Great! I know this place that has the best tatacos!"

There was a light skip in your movements as you began to lead the way, trusting that he was following you. You could only hope he didn't eat too much. You weren't sure your pockets could afford it, and you'd hate to make an even bigger fool of yourself in front of him by being too broke to pay. What a horrible first impression...

“Oh, right!” you paused in your steps for a moment. “I forgot to introduce myself!”

And so you did, and you watched as something that almost looked like a smile twitched at Kinich’s lips. Then, as if testing the way it rolled on his tongue, he repeated your name carefully.

Something fluttered in your stomach as you beamed. Yeah, you sure liked the way that sounded.

3) The fall that was the fault of a slippery rock

“No, guys, trust me. I just discovered it. It’s like, really underground.”

Kinich sighed as Mualani giggled at her own joke. As if on impulse, you laughed along with her, but you even as the sound escaped you, you couldn’t tell if it came from a place of pity or not. Underground, because it was literally in an underground cave. Hilarious. Still, a small smile made its way onto your face. This was nice. As much as you loved your other friends, it sure felt great to hang out with people who didn’t always challenge you to risk your life (fuck you, Pacha), though you suspected Mualani was just waiting for a chance to take you Spirit Wave riding, and you weren’t sure you were quite ready for that yet.

Today, however, you were spared. Mualani had promised you and Kinich a relaxing afternoon in a new hot spring she’d found. And so you were following her into an opening in the rock face.

The air was immediately a little cooler than it was outside as you stepped into the darkness. The cave was still illuminated by the sunlight, and you could see more patches of light ahead. It glowed slightly in the reflections of the rock on the ground.

“It’s a little steep here,” your friend warned. “Watch your step.”

No sooner had you nodded to show your understanding than you had placed your foot down on a particularly slippery patch on the floor, and it slid.

A gasp tore out of you, but two arms were already wrapping around you from behind.

“Be careful,” his voice murmured in your ear. You almost gasped again. How glad you were that he was behind you and thus couldn’t see the way you froze up at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

From a little ways ahead of you, Mualani called out. “Hey, you alright?”

Your throat suddenly felt very dry. You cleared it before telling her that you were.

Kinich kept one hand on your waist for the next few steps before removing it after you had found your footing. You found yourself missing his touch upon the removal.

No matter, you assured yourself. Focus on not falling over again. The decline of the slope eased out into a flatter path, and soon the tunnel opened up into an expansive area. The underground spring was much brighter than you had anticipated, thanks to the perfectly round opening at the top. Smooth, round rocks seemed to line the edge, and the water sparkled in the ripples as Mualani crouched down to test it with her hand.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed.

You turned your attention to her. “What is it?”

“It’s cold! It was really toasty last time, though,” she frowned. “It must be because it’s further away. The underground water flow can get unstable and–“

As she rambled on, you crouched by the side of the spring, dipping your hand into the water. It lukewarm at best, but the pool wasn’t as big as most of the one’s above ground. You could work with this. Placing both hands in the not-so-hot spring, the vision at your side pulsed with energy. You let the heat flow through your body to your fingertips, as steam floated just above the surface of the water.

You failed to notice the pair of eyes that were fixed on you as you smiled to yourself.

“Hey, Mualani? Is this better?” Mualani’s eyes widened as she watched the mist rising out of the hot spring.

“Yes, yes, yes!” She squealed. She rushed to your side, squeezing you in a hug, before drawing back immediately. “Ow, hot!”

The girl quickly submerged her arms in the water, sighing in relief. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped.

You grinned at your friends, stepping into the water yourself. “Shall we swim?”

The pounding of your heart against your chest was hard to ignore when Kinich slid into the spring and settled right beside you.

???) The fall that wasn’t even you

Kinich wasn’t sure what was wrong with him lately. He’d been sleeping the same, his regimented diet was unchanged, but in recent weeks, he’d found himself feeling a lot more strange.

Hunting commissions had been slow lately, so he’d taken the liberty of accepting ordinary bounties and commissions from the Adventurers’ Guild. When you’d heard about it, you’d insisted on joining him. He hadn’t had a problem with that, but since he started taking on these new commissions, Kinich had noticed that something was happening to his health.

He’d been spending a lot of time with you these days, but that couldn’t be it. How could that explain his borderline feverish symptoms? The heat that flushed his head and neck sometimes, and the weird way that his heart flipped, like it did when he went bungee jumping that one time.

And sure, those symptoms only happened when he was with you, but that was just because he was almost always with you. How could fighting a few treasure hoarders in your presence make him ill?

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ajaw growled. “You like them!”

Kinich was too surprised to scoff. “What?”

“You have a big fat crush.”

“No, I don’t.”

The little green dots in Ajaw’s eyes rolled around so hard, Kinich thought they might fall out.

“Fine! Don’t believe me, then! Even though you blush whenever you’re with them, and you stare at them when they’re talking, and you didn’t even complain when they wanted to join your commissions and you’ve been losing half the profit!”

Ajaw’s body doubled in size before he vanished in agitation. Kinich raised a hand to his chin in thought. He needed a second opinion.

“You like them,” Mualani replied simply. “It’s pretty obvious.”

Kinich blanched. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because it is,” she grinned. “Dude, you’ve fallen hard.”

There was a twist in his stomach. The tips of his ears turned redder than a hot chili pepper.

“Come on, Kinich. You’re a smart guy. Think about the way they make you feel.”

Despite everything, despite the fact that he was, in fact, a smart guy, and he had always been sure to analyse and prepare for every outcome, and he was always weighing the costs of his relationships and seeing right through people and thinking way too much about everything—

—the realisation hit him like a tidal wave.

Oh.

Mualani grinned, satisfied. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts, then.”

Kinich barely registered her departure.

Because of course. Your relationship had never been transactional. All you ever did was give and give, and without even realising it, he’d poured his all into giving back without a moment’s hesitation. He’d never asked anything of you, nor you of him.

And because Kinich was a level-headed man, and ever-so-straightforward, there was no time wasted before he was at your front door.

If there was ever one thing he would ask of you, it was this.

“I like you, and I need to know if you feel the same.”

A grin found its home on your lips. A step forward and you closed some of the distance. The sparkle in your eyes did nothing to shake Kinich’s nerves, but it did make his stomach flip.

“Guess you’re the one falling for me now, huh?”

[venmondiese]

SUBTLE LOVE, DARING WORDS

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

-ˋˏsummary: Aemond is in no hurry to take a wife, yet once he realizes that he doesn't value what he has until he might lose it, he takes action. (based on THIS request!)

✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader.

✧word count: 3.1k

✧tags: fluff and comfort, aemond is BAD at feelings, reader doesn't really admit anything either, slight? slowburn?, overall fluffy!!, this is really vague about in which year happens, lol

The first time he met you it was in the library.

He had his mind on the whole commotion at court, the tournament which he had refused to entertain, much to his mother's dislike because of his position as a royal. To him, it seems like a foolery, as if he was willing to participate in making himself a fool such as Mushroom. 

When he came to the library, intending to search for a book to comfort himself, he found a lady leaning down one of the staircases, where there were lots of books stacked only for maesters, with him as an exception… but not a lady surely, less one that seemed to be looking for something below. He was astonished, for many reasons. 

He watched her big, puffy dress, in rich red velvet and gold details. It was definitely a Westerlands style, so he was more confused as to why she was in this part of the library, only for maesters, and… well, him. How did the guards allow her to enter? How did she do it so confidently, as if he couldn’t make her life hell for it?

“Ehem” he scoffs, as if trying to get her away. The least of his worries was having a lady on the forbidden library corner… for now. “Get out. You are in a forbidden part”

“I am aware” your voice comes from down the staircase you had even moved some books! That made him slightly… annoyed.  As you move your head out to see the prince above you, and you make a movement with your head as if doing a courtesy. “My prince”

He was not amused, at all. You had green eyes, and the most golden hair he had seen in ages. The small lions on your dress allowed him to know who you were: A Lannister. And he definitely never wanted to deal with any of your kin. 

“And I said-”

“My cat is down there” you say, as if he cared. 

“Okay. Take it out of here”

“I can’t” you say simply, watching him with a grin. “She seems to be in labour. I didn’t know she was pregnant at all…”

He has many questions, and he frowns at your reasoning. He would take the cat and throw it out himself if he had to. 

“It is your cat, just take it away”

“Well, my father gave her to me two weeks ago!” You make a face, almost whining about it. Of course he could know which Lannister is your father. “I didn’t know she was pregnant, and she is still getting used to me. She will scratch me, more if I get closer to her babies”

“A scratch won’t kill you”

“Just sit” you say softly, watching the cat and sitting on the ground to wait. “You can even keep one of the baby cats”

“My grandsire has brought enough cats already” Aemond says, walking to grab some wine for him and the lady. He wasn't impolite to be rude to a lady, much less one with your status and beauty. “They come to my bed when I am sleeping, and I wake up to cats in my chest”

“Well, I think they are cute” You say, taking the cup of wine, thanking him as you sip the wine. “Cats are felines, like lions. So I think having a cat is reasonable, better than a lion”

“Don’t you want one?”

“I have one back at home” you say shrugging, smiling widely. “He is called Brightroar”  

Of course you named it like the ancient weapon of Lannisters. “And this one?” 

“I wanted to call it Brightroar second, but it turned out to be a she. So she is just called Gemma” 

He can’t deny that he is amused, watching you being so nonchalant about it all, as if you owned the world. He raises an eyebrow as he has a slight smirk, as he sits near. 

“Gemma” he scoffs. “A very…”

“Lannister name” you say smugly. 

“Hm. I was going to say… common, perhaps” he adds.

“You would love for Lannisters to be commoners, my prince. Yet you seem to rely on our gold” you notice, raising one eyebrow. So you weren’t a silly lady, he realises, you had the wits.

“Hmm… Our gold seems a bit excessive, my lady. It is your father who is the head of your house” he reminds you, leaning back on his chair. 

You smile softly. He thinks you are Cerelle, probably. Mostly because you know Cerelle was still a kid and never been presented to the royal court.

“Mine or not, I still am more entitled to it.”

“I have a dragon.” He adds, as if this was a debate between you both. He was actually enjoying it. He had totally the wrong impression of you and he… was enjoying it. “The biggest dragon”

“Yeah, and?” 

“And I could burn your silly little castle” he shrugs, taking a dip of wine. 

“No, you could not” 

“I’m pretty sure I can”

“No, actually. I know you haven’t gone out of these four walls and this... city, my prince, but I remind you out of the kindness of my heart: Casterly Rock is literally… a rock” 

Aemond rolls his good eye, yet his smirk doesn’t leave his face. As if your cat was forgotten, he keeps on his point. 

“As if has stopped a dragon before” Aemond says simply. “Because I am as kind I shall remind you of Harrenhal, perhaps?” 

“And I shall remind you that Harrenhal is a castle made of rocks.” She shrugs softly. “Not exactly a rock. Casterly Rock is literally a castle inside a rock.”

“Some parts are out of it”

“Not the part where we keep our gold, not really”

Aemond squints his eye, and you look back at him. You amused him, looking like a defiant cat that got away with their mischief. It was fun to see, and he could hear the wails of your cat. You didn’t seem worried, neither was he. Perhaps that was the circle of life, and you knew your cat would manage. 

As you speak of such trivial matters, waiting for your cat to end her labours, he couldn’t help but admire your wits, as much as your beauty. Your velvet gown, of a strong red and some gold details did wonders with your appearance, and your brains only made you brighter. 

“What are you doing here?” It was Tyland Lannister, coming with a Maester behind, probably who sneaked your position in a forbidden library. “You know ladies can’t be here” 

“Father... My cat is giving birth” You say, frowning as if it was the most obvious thing. 

“My prince” Tyland makes a courtesy to him, a bit rigid and tense. You had heard how the prince would often terrorise your father, making him do the silliest things as if that amused him. Your uncle Jason often had a laugh about it. 

“I was not aware your daughter was…” Aemond says, turning his gaze to you “All grown up”

He knew about you, but your father talked about you as if you were a babe. You were practically his own age, for what he could tell.

“Yes, my little lion is certainly… grown” Tyland agrees, his hand on your hair as he spoke. “Come on; let’s not bother the prince…”

“It is not a bother” Aemond cuts him, serving himself more wine. “She is rather amusing”

“How dare you-!” You say, offended as you come to your defence.

“Sweetie” Your father tries to calm you, with a tense smile as if telling you to shut up.

“I am not a jester” 

“No one said you were” Aemond says, amused as he smirks. 

“You are such a…”

“Apologise” your father murmurs. 

“But fath-”

“You heard me”

“I am sorry, my prince” You say mockingly, and he smirks, even more amused.

Tyland seemed as if he was about to have a stroke, because he had enough things on his plate, and he didn’t need the prince making his life at the small council harder. 

Aemond sees Gemma, bringing her cats to show you how they were, all of them bloody, and squirmy, a bit pink and small. You petted them as you didn’t mind the blood.

“Come on. Servants will need to clean the blood” Tyland says, making a notion for you to stand up “Grab the kittens and let’s go”

“Ew, no. They are all bloody” You say frowning. “You take them” 

How lady-like. He thinks, as you didn't seem to mind the blood two seconds ago.

Even with your persistence, your father took the small and weak kittens, and your cat kept meowing at him as if he would kill him. 

“How did your cat even come here to give birth?” Your father asks as he tries to not get Gemma to kill him.

“I have no idea, father…” You say, and Aemond sees you standing up. 

He sees the pile of books in your hands, behind your back as you walk behind your father. You smart wench, he thinks, as you had just successfully stolen forbidden books by setting up your cat to give birth here. You even had him fooled. No one else notices, since your dress was puffy enough, and he noticed it by shamelessly trying to see your ass. 

You watch him, and press your index finger in your lips, as you walk behind your father and his complaints about your cat. 

“Do not bother the prince, darling” Tyland says once you get out of the library.

“I think he is quite handsome” you admit, when you know the prince won’t hear you. You father watches you shrug, walking forward him, not allowing him to see your hands. He sighs, as Gemma starts meowing loudly. 

While the rest of your interactions have been brief, he notices that you are more of a troublemaker than you let yourself look. You had that mischievous smirk always, arching your eyebrows in such a way when you had a plan. 

Yet, you were sweet. He notices how you play with your cousins, Cerelle, braiding her hair, and with Loreon, the small heir to Casterly Rock, a kid that enjoyed running around, and you often entertained his antics. 

“And there will be so many ladies, Aemond. In this time, we need alliances…” His mother says, as they walked through the castle. He hears the step of Cole behind them, guarding them, and probably hearing how his mother tried to make him a lovebird.

“It does not interest me”

“It doesn’t have to interest you. It is a matter of duty-”

“I won’t marry, mother.” Aemond shrugs, as if that was the way of his life. “Not yet. I have things ahead of me yet” 

“You inscribed on the tourney?” The queen inquires, curious. 

“No” he says shrugging, slyly trying to seek for you in the royal box, to no avail. “I am not in a hurry.”

He greeted noble ladies, of course. As he was seated on the royal box, bored and waiting, he could see girl after girl doing courtesy and smiling in a flirty way to him. It did not amuse him, and he was polite enough, almost rude. 

“She is trying really hard, you know” A voice joins his thoughts. It is you, sitting by the empty chair by his side, where Aegon is supposed to be, but he never is on time.

“Who isn’t?” He rolls his eye.

“I didn’t know you were so in demand. High valued. Sought after” you list, as you fan yourself as it was indeed a hot day. 

“Very amusing” He murmurs.

“Come on, my prince. There must be a lady who catches your attention.” 

“I am not blind” he says, rolling his good eye. “Of course there are women I find beautiful”

“Oh my... Having feelings now, congratulations, the Seven indeed are capable of the most... unthinkable miracles”

“You just woke up being so funny” he says, looking at you, raising his eyebrow, yet the small way his lips curved allowed you to know he was amused.

“I am always funny, my prince” you say watching the crowd get settled, squinting your eyes due to the sun. “My cats are good, thanks for asking. Gemma is quite the mother, even if she tried to eat one of them.”

"How... vivid." He says, raising his eyebrows in slight disgust.

"I saved them. Since they are four, I named them: Elia, Joy, Alyssa and Teora"

"And what if one of those silly cats was to be a male?" he asks, as if seeing a flaw in your cat-naming thing.

"Pff, none of them will be. I know it. And if they are, I won't change the names"

He remains quiet, surprised by how bold and petulant you could be. It was amusing to him, and he enjoyed talking to you more than he cared to admit.

“You stole from the library.” he reminds you.

“I have no idea what you are about” you say, still looking at the crowd, smiling softly. The red of your dress made your gold hair bright even more. “Ladies do not read such matters”

“Yeah, right. You are unlike any lady”

“Quite the contrary” you finally turn to see him “I am just like any other lady” you says, smiling. "It just happens that I am friends with the prince, so I am allowed to speak freely"

"Who said..." He says, opening his mouth and turning his face to you, a bit impressed by your silliness "How come you think... you suppose that we are friends?"

"Since you have neither sneaked about the time at the library, or told me to shut up and leave you alone, it is a logical conclusion, if we have in mind your previous reputation to anyone else." You say smiling. "And do not worry, if you do not consider me as such, doesn't matter, because I do and I appreciate you even if you hate me"

"You are..." He scoffs, grinning like a fool "Unbelievable"

"I know. One of my many charms. That and being a matchmaker. I love it. It is wonderful to make couples at court, and more if they end up together, being all happy and..."

“Huh.” He hums, thinking of how odd you were. “Talking about the wonders of a married life”

“I didn’t say that. I merely stated that… marriage isn’t the worst. I intend to find a husband very soon as well. I would very much like to be a wife”

“I shall pray for the poor soul who calls you wife” He murmurs as he looks at the field below, where the knights were preparing, yet you hear his grumbles. 

“And I shall pray to see prince Aemond besotted for a lady” you say teasingly, standing up, not before doing a small courtesy and leave to sit by your father, who had just arrived, frowning a bit as to why you were with prince Aemond.

The tournament does not bore him at all. He is very into the way the fight develops, and he takes mental notes when he sees some weaknesses in the participants. He regrets, just a bit, not joining, because he thinks he could have won. 

He sees you, on the seats below him, jumping in excitement as the fight develops. You are into it very much, clapping and screaming as any commoner does outside the royal box. It was improper, but it was… cute. 

He can see the rest, clapping politely, not overly excited yet proper for the occasion. You were unlike the rest, yet at the same time, you were just like any lady. It amazed him, and he did not understand.

He soon realises that he is not the only one that has you in mind, when the winner of the tournament comes closer to the stands, riding triumphantly in circles while the audience cheers him on, the crown of the Queen of Love and Beauty on his lance.

“The Winner, Ser Dale Dondarrion shall find his Queen of Love and Beauty”

He hesitates for some moments, he thinks he shall name his niece Jaehaera to win the favour of the royal house, like his ancestor once did to little princess Daenerys at the early reign of King Jaehaerys. 

Yet his smile faints when he sees that the queen of beauty’s laurel falls into your lap. 

“Lady Lannister, I hope I am deserving of dedicating my victory for you, and shall your reign be full of joy, even if lasting one night”

You take the wreath of flowers, almost jumping in sight and squealing some thanks as Tyland accommodates the crown onto your braided hair. Your crowning came with an ovation full of applause, from the box and from the commoners… but him. 

It was an odd feeling, stirring something in him, as he watches your cheeks pink from the compliments of all, and most of all; having a suitor. Being named queen of love and beauty was not anything like a dull compliment of court merely because it was proper. It was being publicly courted, and often something many ladies wished, because there was no better feeling than being shown off to everyone. 

He was quiet the rest of the day. Humming when ladies talked to him, in hopes to gain his attention and be courted; when Aegon mocked him; when Helaena placed one of her bugs in his lap, which Maelor ended up squeezing on his grip; when his mother presented him a lady of a high castle with expensive clothes and a sweet behaviour, pure, and devoted. He paid little attention to it all.

It was when your reign was coming to an end that he asks for Tyland to come to the empty throne room. He was watching the throne, carefully inspecting it, as he calculated of his next words. He was being irrational, clearly driven by his emotions and desperation rather than the logically he usually had. 

“My prince” 

Tyland was no stranger to the formalities of court, yet he never let himself be intimidated by lords that tried to impose themselves. He was the second son, yet he had established a name for himself and earned respect in his position; there was nothing for him to feel belittled about

Yet intimidation comes natural with prince Aemond around. 

He has the impression that his one eye is wide open, and the smirk that naturally was on his lip was one of amusement in the suffering of the rest. Always stoic, never doing things out of impulsivity... Which was even worse. His hands behind his back, as he remained as still as a statue.

It did not frighten him, but he knew Aemond was as cold as unforgiving. And slicing his head won’t make the prince feel regret.

“Lord Tyland” Aemond greets him softly. 

A silence follows, as Tyland feels his hand sweating slightly. “An idea for the small council?” He tries to guess. “I am sure it can wait, my prince, I should be with my daughter, since it’s her day…”

“Exactly. That’s what I wanted to speak about”

Tyland is a smart man, and he quickly realises the problem.

“I know she can be presumptuous and slightly spoiled, my prince” He starts, feeling Aemond’s eye on him as he turns to face him. “She takes the title too seriously, when it isn’t, Mushroom was just hyping her up, and she is just still a girl, and I apologise on her behalf for trying to impose herself as Queen, when her reign only lasts for a day, and she really is…”

“I want to marry her” Aemond tells Tyland simply. “Her reign shall not end. She can be a princess.”

Lannisters usually aren’t left speechless. They had never been known for their silence, yet here he is, silent.

“Ser Dondarrion made the same proposal hours earlier, my prince, and I…”

“And you will allow your daughter to marry a Ser instead of a prince? I have already told you. I want to be her husband” He insists, his tone not certainly soft as he loses patience. His soul craves you. He needs to be yours. He can’t let you go away. “She is smart and she has the wits. She is spoiled, and she loves to have her way. She is kind, sweet, and funny. And I want to be her husband and give her anything she asks for. Is that so hard to get?”

What wakes up Queen Alicent is her son with a stoic expression, not even entering her rooms to speak.

“I was wrong” He says simply “I shall marry Lady Lannister, mother. I am in a hurry. So I ask you to prepare the wedding. Good night and Seven blessings”

Almost a year later is when your father comes closer to your chambers once again, seeing how your ladies in waiting do a courtesy out of politeness, and he watches prince Aemond at your door, waiting for him.

“Came as fast as I could…”

“Hm” Aemond says, as he walks toward the open doors.

Tyland could have his distance with Prince Aemond, but he couldn’t deny how good a husband he was. He wasn’t a man of many emotions, in his perspective, yet he was a devoted husband. He danced as many times you wanted in the ceremony, sighing every time you made him stand up from his seat. He didn’t wear the eye patch on your wedding, just as you requested.

“That is the worst idea ever, darling” He said to you, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Well, he will have to if he wants to marry me”

And so he did. When you wanted to travel to Volantis, he arranged it all. When you wanted for him to meet Brightroar, he took Vhagar and rode into the Westerlands with you. 

“Was it all well?”

“Everyone in the castle heard a lion roar” Aemond says walking past the maesters. 

You seemed so little, in Tyland’s eyes, all sweaty and tired, like the time you got so sick he was afraid you would die. He had brought the very best maesters he could find, just to assure you were safe. 

“It is a girl” It’s the first thing you say to your father, smiling a bit. “A healthy baby”

Tyland leans, to kiss your forehead, as you extend your babe to him. It was a small thing, yet chubby and all pink still. She had small, silver hair, very thin, but present. He could see the little gold spot, as if gold hair would grow on some of her hair. It was indeed curious, and yet he couldn’t think she was anything but perfect.

“A bit squirmy” He comments, as the baby yawns, opening her mouth as she whines slightly. 

As he tries to coo the small thing, he watches how Aegon sits by your side, at the edge of the bed, passing his hand behind your shoulders to caress your shoulder. You lean against him a bit, and say.

“It is a pain to breastfeed, why didn’t you tell me?”

He chuckles a bit awkwardly, he had never gotten used to your bluntness and honesty. “I never knew anything about that”

“Well, it is. I thought babies knew how to do it, but she takes a long time” You say, looking up at Aemond.

“She is still very little, my love” Aemond reminds you. 

“I know, but what if I am doing it wrongly? Mothers usually know those things, and I find myself clueless. Aunt Joanna says it comes naturally, but she has successfully raised kids who have survived childhood.” You say, looking at Aemond. “So has your mother. How comes I don’t know?”

“Because you are a mother from little more than a day.” Aemond reminds you “And they had help. So you do. You have me, of course. You have wet nurses, maids, maesters, and my own mother and of course, you have the brightest mind. We’ll do”

“Did you know Aemond cried, father?” You tell him, and he finally looks away from his little granddaughter. 

He blinks, a bit confused, watching the prince. “Oh, did he?” 

“Yeah, it was rather cute” Aemond rolls his eye amused, as your hand was on his knee. 

“It’s the only natural response.” Tyland says, his finger caressing the skin of the sleeping babe, who squirmed a bit at the feeling, like a cat. “She is delightful. Have you named her?”

Aemond looks at you, amused, expecting you to answer the question. You had the smug grin on your face, and nodded. “We had a deal. If she had golden hair, she would have a Targaryen name. If she had silver hair, she would have a Lannister name”

“And?”

“Well, she is rather… peculiar. She had silver hair, but you can see how some gold hair has grown too? It is the oddest of things, but the Maesters said it was natural. You know how cats have different hair colours?”

“Don’t compare her to a cat” Tyland makes a face, softly rocking her in his arms.

“She has both silver and gold.” Aemond says, as if reminding you to keep on trail. 

“Ah, yes. Since it’s most silver, we agreed on something that you will find the brightest things, father.” You look at your husband and then your father. “Gaemma. It’s a bit… weird to say it, but with time it shall be delightful”

Tyland looks at you, and he blinks. “Like your cat?”

“Well, thanks to her I and Aemond met.” You remind him. “She deserves some credit” You add.

“I like it” he murmurs. “Don’t make your mama lose her mind” He says, as the baby yawn, extending her arms. 

“She will, after all she is her mother’s daughter” Aemond says, taking her back, and he adds “You should have seen how loud she wailed once she came.”

“I am here, world. Hear me roar” you say, as if trying to translate Gaemma’s cries. You smile widely, and Tyland knows that even if you were always going to be his little girl, you were in the best hands, and that Aemond adored the ground you walked on. Even if you name their child after your cat. 

[scudslut]

Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining

a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33

Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.

A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.

It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.

It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.

Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.

He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.

He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?

Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.

And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.

He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'. 

It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.

Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.

"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.

“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.

Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”  

You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.” 

His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.

“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.

Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.

His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.

“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water. 

“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily. 

He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.

"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.

He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.

For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?

‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly. 

But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy. 

He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.

He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.

You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away. 

It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.

The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.

He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.

In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.

There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.

“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.

No. Surely, he was reading you wrong. 

“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?” 

He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.

He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.

“Can I see?” you asked quietly.

He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank. 

“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.

There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.

"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.

"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”

And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.

“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?

“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.

“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”

His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?

"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.

"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.

"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."

Your crush on him?

"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.

You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"

You nodded.

"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.

"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"

Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”

Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?

Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.

You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.

You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.

He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.

“Hm? Wha’s that?”

He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”

So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.

He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.

You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.

This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.

Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.

In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.

No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.

His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.

He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.

“Daryl,” you gasped above him.

Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”

“How so?”

He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.

“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.

“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”

He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.

“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”

His thumb pressed firmer.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.

He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.

With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.

Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.

Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.

No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.

He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.

“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.

He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.

“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?

You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.

He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.

"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.

He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.

Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.

[chuluoyi]

only if you are up for a challenge. Naoya Zenin x f!reader in which he got her pregnant, then she left out of fear and he found her again and won't let her go :)))

when you loved me

- zen'in naoya x reader

you loved him... but you have had enough of the shit you've experienced—his arrogance, horrible family and another woman—and decided to leave him for the sake of yourself and your child

genre/warnings: angst to comfort, implied cheating, most likely ooc, honestly i almost made it a vs naoya fic with no consolation, happy ending aka naoya is decent

note: this ask... has been collecting dust in my askbox for about SIX MONTHS HAHAH, so sorry anon. i'll just leave it here and let it burn however just bc i don’t want to delete what i’ve written :’)

general masterlist

"How... how could you?"

Once, you thought, you were in love with Zen'in Naoya.

Well, you couldn't deny that he had personality flaws, but deep down, at one point in your life, you still believed that he too loved you.

You stared at him through tears brimming in your eyes, and he was just there, looking at the little being in your arms with a mix of shock and... something else you couldn't name. Dismay? Disappointment? Black rage?

"Go away, Naoya," you declared through your gritted teeth, pulling the baby in your arms even closer to you, as though fearing he might do something drastic. No way in hell would you let him after what he made you go through.

His eyes twitched as he tried to hold himself back from losing it. He took a few deep breathes in order to stay composed.

“Y/N, answer me,” he growled, still with the same condescending tone you remembered nine months ago, when you resolutely decided to leave him. “Is that baby mine?”

This was absolute madness. You had driven him insane. Naoya was certain he would go feral on you after you boldly left him without a trace, and when he found you, you were cradling this baby in your arms—which he was absolutely sure, enough to bet on his life, that the little thing was also his.

The woman he loves has given birth to his child.

You had imagined all sort of scenarios in which this very event would occur. This was one of them actually.

“No,” you firmly replied, gaze hardening. “Not yours. So kindly let yourself out of my house, Naoya.”

“Absolute bullshit!” he shouted and you flinched. His sudden rise of voice also woke the poor baby in your arms.

His heart hammered inside his chest. There were many things that made a mess of his head. You running away from him. The nights of madness he went through, wondering where you were and if you were alright. And now, the fact you had his baby without him ever knowing.

“Where were you? Why did you leave— you were having my—”

Fuck, he didn’t even know if he had a son or daughter.

You tried to console your child, now tears also streaming down your cheeks too. But it was more of frustration and anger rather than fear. “Can you blame me? Zen’in Naoya, you have made my life hell!”

“Hell?” It felt like an total insult to his pride. “How—!”

“You!” you screamed at his face. “I’ve had enough of your shit! And not to mention your father—that horrible drunkard who always looks down on me and treats me as if I were some gold digger! And also the whole of your goddamn, entitled clan—they always harass me right in front of my face!”

All of this stunned him on this place. Truth to be told, he knew a little to nothing at all about what his kin had done to you.

“I don’t need your family’s wealth! I can live on my own just fine even with your bastard!” Your tirade still hadn’t ended, but you had to put your baby on her cot first and dismiss her ever growing cries because you were tired of all of this. This life. This absolute nightmare that was caused by one fatal mistake of falling in love with Zen’in Naoya.

“But what the fuck? You’re asking why I left? How dare you ask me that after what you did!”

“What did I even do?!” His denial made a blood vessel about to burst inside your brain. “You never fucking told me what my father did! If only you did, I would have—”

“Look, you don’t even acknowledge it!” You were so tired of this. You wished you could die and just end all of this mental suffering. Why did this have to happen to you out of a billion people out there?

And yet, still, ultimately, you were happy with him. Those memories of the two of you together, just idyllically spending time together, or sometimes even playfully clashing opinions— to you, they were irreplaceable.

So, that's why...

Your heart shattered at the screeching cries of your baby. But you had to slam this in Naoya’s face.

“That was the last straw—seeing you with that fucking woman, you insufferable, demented, cheating bastard!”

That string of profanities you screamed at his face made Naoya finally lost it, as he gripped you tightly and his eyes flared with pure white-hot anger. “Say that again—say that again, you—!”

A toe-curling scream ripped out of your baby and you wrenched yourself out of his grasp through sheer will. Naoya was left reeling as he watched your horrified expression, as you plucked the baby into your arms again.

“Shh, shh,” you shushed your child amidst your own quivering lips. “Mama is here… Don’t cry…”

Right at that moment, it was as if something had pierced his chest and left a gaping hole. He really had a living baby. That baby was crying because of him.

The sting of the anger was still there, but now guilt started to overpower it as he regained his cool somewhat. “Is that a—” his breath hitched. He had to know. At the very, very least he had to know.

You didn’t immediately answer. You were still absolutely heartbroken by how it all turned out. But above all else, you could no longer deny him of his own child.

“A girl,” you sniffled.

A daughter. A daughter— in the one split second after knowing that, Naoya made the quickest decision of his life.

“Come back. Live with me,” he said, resolute. “You’re the mother of my child—I won’t let anyone lay their hand on you again. You have my word.”

Women are pain in the ass. That was what he used to think. Until you. Not when it's you. It astounded even himself how the sight of you like this was enough to drive knives into his chest.

“Look, that’s not it,” your tears were now falling free and fast, unable to hold it back longer. “How can you ask me that—when you went behind my back with another woman? Naoya, I love you—loved you. But isn’t this too cruel? How can you do this to me?”

“What woman are you talking about?” He tried to compose himself, but your accusation of him with someone whose existence he didn’t even know was getting in his nerves. “I have never been unfaithful to you! I know we don't always agree to things, but do you really think that low of me?”

“Evidently, I saw you with her. Your father made it a point that she’s your next plaything—or possibly even, fiancée!”

There was a memory that sprung into his head when you mentioned that. He recalled that vain, stupid woman, and he definitely remembered telling his father that he refused her. It wasn’t long before you disappeared.

Now everything clicked.

“Listen to me,” Naoya started, jaw clenching. “Whatever my father told you—those are all lies. I turned her down right there and then. I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that. You should have known that.”

Sobs wrecked your body and soul at this point. You knew where your place was. Zen’in Naoya was a man outside your league, his family made it so clear to you that you were nothing but dirt in their eyes. And perhaps that was why, back then, you chose to protect yourself and left him, believing he was capable of that too.

And now before you, you could see the man you loved once again.

“Come back to me.” His gaze burned you. “This time, for sure, I won’t let anyone touch you— I won’t let them even say a word about you! I will marry you, and we will raise our daughter together.”

“I… I don’t want to live there, Naoya…” you sobbed. You hated that place. Like hell would you have your pride stomped and deceived again.

“Alright, if that’s what you want. We won’t live there. You won’t have to see any of their faces again.”

Gazing into your face, marked by trails of tears, he finally, finally felt his heart break. And he thought, that in front of him now was the only woman who could upturn his whole trajectory.

“Just… come back. To me. I will take care of you. I swear it.”

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ mad with need ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you want him so bad that you feel like you’re going crazy so he indulges you┊3.0k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: smut!! dom logan & sub reader┊x wade wilson too, age gap, dirty fantasies from a horny reader (who is actually insecure about herself), size difference, no prep we’re dying like nicepool, riding & unprotected piv, breeding/creampie, a bit rushed i need this out my wips

➤ author's note: okay so this is actually the very first logan fic i started, but i have no idea why it took me so long to finish it? it’s a bit all over the place, but i hope some people enjoy anyway!

has he realized you were there and simply testing your self-control, or is he just being so effortlessly sexy again that you aren’t sure if you’re in love or jealous? was there any other reason for him to be laid out on the beat-up couch like something to feast on when he was simply holding a bottle of liquor in one hand to sip on and flipping through the channels of a barely-working box television with a remote in the other? why else would he be so delectable around a known pervert(s, wade is just as bad as you are, just more focused on the possible destruction of his home rather than the pansexual panic between you and logan plaguing him) if not to tempt you?

you’re constantly fawning over the sight of him and letting out dreamy sighs which have become more common lately than you would like to admit, swearing that you could gaze upon him for every second of the day and not tire of it. they say “god gives his most difficult battles to his strongest soldiers”, yet the battle assigned to you is restraining yourself from pouncing on him at the very moment and begging to suck his cock. you know that you’re horny most hours of the day and also kinda a brazen whore, but the way he makes you wet in record time should be worthy of a gold olympic medal.

every time his lips wrap around the rim of the glass bottle, you can’t help but imagine them somewhere else. the image of his handsome face between your legs and scruffy facial hair coated in your slick while he ravishes you haunts your mind whenever you try to sleep, yet the phantom sensation of his tongue on you while his nose stimulates your clit helps you rest in the end. you bet that he would be great at eating pussy too, with his sharp tongue and arrogant attitude— god. 

he’s also so jacked that even when he’s resting, his muscles still seem to bulge with prominent veins like a nurse’s wet dream and it has you downright drooling. now that the sleeves of his suit were gone, you could see how beefy his arms were, and seeing any inch of his skin had you acting up like a victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time. he could probably crush your skull like an egg if you ever found yourself head-locked in them (you’ve seen him do it to wade out of irritation, and you’ve never been so jealous).

and not to mention how peggable his shapely ass is, there’s really no limit to all the things you want to try with him if you were given the chance—

“are you finished staring?” his gruff voice brought you back to reality, refocusing your vision as he made a slight gesture to his body with one of his rare smirks, “like what you see?” it’s a rhetorical question, he knows how good he looks despite his age and you have already made your attraction towards him well-established. 

you don’t need to say anything, he can tell what you’re thinking as clearly as day, so you don’t bother making any dirty remarks like usual and just walk out the room. you paced around the house for a minute or two to calm yourself down until you eventually ran into wade. “oh my god,” you cupped your face with your hands, eyes becoming big and round as if you were going to cry, “i want him so bad, i feel like i’m gonna lose my mind if i don’t fuck him!”

“well, why haven’t you? i know for a fact that my presence isn’t enough to stop you from climbing him like a tree, so spill it!”

“uhhhh,” you pointed your fingers together to exaggerate self-consciousness, “what if… what if he doesn’t like me and just sees me as some annoying, excessively horny kid?”

“can you believe this bitch?” he scoffed, looking at the invisible audience that was always watching before grabbing your shoulders and violently shaking you, “listen here missy, he definitely likes you— i have yet to see that man smile at anything else that isn’t your face and comments that rival jjk twitter fans in vulgarity! why are you suddenly getting cold feet now when you’re such a player? you’re suddenly screaming, crying, and throwing up over peanut whom you’ve been hitting on non-stop since we found him?!”

“i don’t know! it’s different, he’s my hero, and— i know it’s hard for you to believe, but he’s not even half the asshole my previous flings were. besides, he so fucking hot—”

“yeah, but he’s also so fucking old— his dick is probably all shriveled up—” the sound of the said man clearing his throat made him jump out of his skin, slowly turning his head to look at the older man before giggling nervously and waving his hands around in some form of awkward greeting. even if he can regenerate and wounds are more like papercuts, the last thing he wanted was to get stabbed in the balls by his adamantium claws again for making such a comment. “ahaha, how much did you hear…?”

“enough,” he grunted, turning his attention to you, “and you’re coming with me.”

“huh—?” there was hardly a moment for you to properly react before he suddenly bent down to grab you by the waist and toss you over his shoulder, “you’re not even gonna ask me to dinner first?!” you must have looked like a fish out of the water with how your mouth was agape with surprise, and you heard him genuinely chuckle in amusement. both from the fact that you didn’t see this coming after all you’ve been saying to him as well as the fact that he could pick you up and throw you around like you weighed nothing.

“well, you didn’t exactly greet me with a ‘hello’ before shamelessly undressing me with your eyes when we first met, now did you?” you couldn’t see if he was smiling or not considering that you were upside-down. the current angle only gave you a close-up view of his perfect ass (not that you were complaining, you need to know his squat routine), unsure if the heat on your face was from the embarrassment of him calling you out or simply from the blood rushing to your head.

“what about me? are you lovebirds really going to leave me all by myself, lonely and yearning for the companionship of another while you two fuck like rabbits?”

“ahh, go fuck yourself.” the grin on his face dissipated the moment he opened his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to ruin his mood as he carried you away to the closest bedroom available, quickly flinging you on the bed without a bother to be careful when handling you since he knew that you could and have taken worse as deadpool’s sidekick. “why are you so nervous? think i don’t want you as much as you want me?”

“wait, actually?” your usually confident facade of the overly forward flirt was faltering more and more by the second.

“you’re so busy ogling my body that you haven’t even noticed the way i look at you, huh?” it’s obvious logan was an absolute beast of a man, but when he cages you with his arms between his bulky frame and the mattress, you feel like a little field mouse against a lion. the way your pupils dilate as you look up at him with adorned excitement has him so fucking feral, heat stirring in his stomach and blood rushing to his cock. he traced over your outfit, admiring how the skin-tight leather hugged your curved. “wearing such a slutty little things that leaves nothing to the imagination, and you expected me not to think about pinning you down and fucking you until you pass out?”

you shivered at his words, arousal pooling in your underwear and warmth spreading throughout your body under your skin. this cheeky son of a bitch can smell it too, the sweet smell of desire, sensing how needy you are for his touch and how your pussy is just begging for his attention. 

as much as he wanted to rip your clothing off and pound into you like there was no tomorrow, he wanted to take his time to properly treasure the cute sidekick who has been reminding him how it feels to be a man again, young and unafraid to pursue the woman of his dreams and treat her right the way that countless of others failed to do. (you’re going to laugh hysterically at him later on down the line when you hear him say that, never thinking you could be the object of anyone’s affection past a one-night stand, but the look in his eyes makes you realize he’s telling the truth and you’ll get all flustered over it.) 

you can taste the alcohol from earlier when he kisses you and moan into it, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, all teeth, tongue, and animalistic want. he ran a hand down your torso to reach the zipper of your suit, undoing it in one swift motion, exposing your bare chest to his eager eyes.

“no bra?”

“i don’t need it when the suit— ah!” 

he cut you off, not caring about the intricacies of how the costume supported everything when he would only get distracted, moving his lips to take one of your perk nipples in his mouth and sucking like it was going to give him milk or something while pinching the other one in between his fingers. he’s like a kid on christmas playing with his new toy: palming at your breasts, cupping and squishing them together, and realizing that his large hands could practically cover them entirely.

“fuckk, you’re so pretty, doll,” he drawled, letting go of your teat with a ‘pop’ and kissing your neck before making you gasp by sinking his teeth into your skin. you gasped at the sudden sensation, deep enough to leave a lasting indent but not deep enough to draw blood, as he soothed the fresh wound by licking it with his tongue. everyone was going to know that you were his, especially that motherfucker he knows is listening in on the other side of the door with his cock in his hands.

 “logan…” you rasp, voice barely above a whisper.

“what is it, princess?” it was a nickname he has used plenty of times, yet it felt completely different in such a sexually charged situation, so much more intimate in a way that you feel your heart racing even faster than before and a rush of energy within. 

“need you…” you murmured.

“come on, a little louder, you need to use your words.” 

“fucking hell,” you covered your face with your hands, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burned, “i need you, logan! i’m gonna go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now!”

“hm, is that so?” he had been resting on his side up until now, laying on his back and lifting you up with both hands under your arms. you found yourself sitting pretty in his lap, straddling him, legs on either side of his waist. “why don’t you work for it then? work for what you wanted so badly this entire time?”

you inhaled sharply, looking down at this fine specimen of a mutant under you made of pure muscle and adamantium with a noticeable tent in his pants, a cocky grin gracing his features daring you to continue. only a fool wouldn’t take up his challenge. biting the inside of your mouth, you began to fully strip yourself of all clothing, kicking it off to the side to be forgotten and showing off your beautiful bare body that logan has been dreaming about since the moment he met you. “take your clothes off too,” you huffed, “it’s not fair for me to be the only one naked.”

he hummed in agreement, taking off the upper half of his yellow and blue-detailed suit, revealing his rippling abs and pecs— age has yet to make a dent in his physique, he doesn’t even look real. he’s not going to remove the bottom half though, both because you’re already on top of him and because you still need to “work for it.” 

experimentally, you rolled your hips on his bulge, feeling a twinge of amusement when he visibly had to clench his jaw to prevent a moan from slipping out. he’s just as pent-up as you are, no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it right now. you fiddled with the metal of his zipper for a moment before pulling it down, motions fidgety with nerves yet still determined to see this through. 

your eyes widen at the sight of his fully erect cock, noting instantly that he’s bigger than any other guy you’ve been with, yet still feeling your mouth water at the size and the vein trailing its underbelly. “is it even going to fit?” you manage to breathe out, reaching out to run a finger over the leaking tip and hearing him hiss.

“only one way to find out, but i think you can take it.” 

placing your hands on his shoulders for balance, you put his theory to the test and raised your body to sink yourself onto him, whimpering at the pleasurable stretch when you manage to make it past the tip. you’re so fucking soaked from your own thoughts and the few minutes of foreplay earlier that you didn’t even need his fingers to prep you, just using your slick as a form of natural lube and feeling him slip into you inch by inch.

“that’s it, doll, just like that,” he praised, the words going right to your head, really enjoying the show of you struggling to take all of him.

“mmhh, lo—” his name came out in a more whiny voice than expected with your eyes rolling back and nails raking into his skin. your thighs were aching with the constant repetitive motion of working yourself up and down his cock, taking one step back for two steps forward, more than halfway there yet unsure if you could handle it all when you felt so impossibly full already.

“shhh, i know, i know, sweetheart— just take your time, i’m not going anywhere.” his words are so sweet despite being a complete asshole by laying back and letting you do all the hard work, hands behind his head and everything while watching his cock slowly disappearing between your folds.

you look at him through glossy half-lidded eyes, brain turned to absolute mush, not even realizing that you had finally taken him to the base and was comfortably nestled on his cock. it took a few moments to adjust to his girth, breathing heavily with the swelling feeling of satisfaction developing within you. you have barely even started, and yet it was already so much better than anything else— he was so much better than anyone else. 

“you okay?” he waits for you to blink to process his words before nodding slightly, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ before your eyes went wide when he suddenly grabbed your waist and positioned you under him once again. you didn’t notice because you went dumb with dick (to put it bluntly), but he had been restraining himself from flipping you over to be on top or trying to buck his hips into you before you were ready. 

he then started thrusting into you at a relentless pace, your hands flying up to his biceps and clinging on for dear life to find purchase. there was no frame to go with this mattress you were resting on, but you were sure it would be banging against the wall until it broke if it was there. your eyes were screwed shut with your head thrown back into the pillow, letting out pathetic pitched moans along with stutters of his name as the orgasm in your stomach builds.

“aah, lo-logan!”

“don’t worry, i got you,” he lazily circled your clit with his thumb, feeling you clench even more tightly at the action, “just let yourself go, relax— cum for me, doll.”

you cried out as your climax washed over you, gushing all over his cock and the pants of his suit that neither of you bothered to take off earlier. it’s a shame that you ruined his clothing so soon when he just got this costume, but honestly, he likes it a lot better when the yellow is stained with the evidence of how good he made you feel.

the way your walls spasmed around him made him quickly follow suit, shooting ribbons of his seed into you and painting your insides white. perhaps he would have been able to hold on for a bit longer when he was younger, but he can’t find himself caring in the least when you were looking up at him like he was everything right now.

he leaned down to kiss you, slowly pulling out of you, being careful not to rest on top of you and crush you under his weight, generally being uncharacteristically sweet towards you in stark comparison to how he was rocking your world like you were the last two souls on earth just a minute ago.

“so… do you like me?” it was the tone he grew accustomed to when you and wade were teasing him, feeling you wrap your arms around him with a sigh and snuggling into his chest.

“yeah… i like you a lot more than you think…”

[rxmye]

" 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 — pristine and perfect, filled with grace and elegance, yet tainted with greed . . greed for you . .

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / slight religious themes?, I suppose it's a fictional religion, I'm still world-building / pathetic and submissive yandere / suggestive content? / he paints the reader as a source of comfort / stalking, which is conveniently described as 'adorable' and 'innocent' behavior /

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: ok so the person mentioned is supposed to be the God of this world, their introduction will also be out soon enough . . currently dropping hints here because world-building fun!!

Takamoto was an Arch-angel, one of the highest ranked angels in heaven—he was pure and truly the definition of elegance, he was never greedy, and he was almost always seen smiling or happy. For he, was truly contempt with his life, and position.

Takamoto was always someone who had truly been satisfied with all that he was given, he never craved more—he always thought and frankly believed, that he had received all that he deserved and that he should be contempt with what he has. He never really had any passion or desire for anything more—he was grateful with everything—he believed all his hardships had reasoning behind it, and that it will all eventually be solved. In fact a part of him believed he deserved any hardship he came by.

Many would believe he was naive for that sort of mindset, and many angels did truly believe him to be just that, yet against all odds he rose up the ranks fairly quickly for this sort of mindset, and of course his loyalty to his beliefs. Takamoto was sweet, he'd help everyone out, and would introduce new souls, and angels throughout the lands of heaven on his free time, he'd help guide souls and his fellow angels everywhere he could . . yet things slowly changed when he first met you . .

Takamoto was visiting, what could only be described as the countryside of heaven, with vast green fields, cozy homes, acres of farmland, etc . . He was checking in for this years harvest, as per high courts orders . . when he saw you, you were so graceful, your wings sparkled in the light, you were radiant, you're eyes glimmered as both of your eyes met for a brief moment . . he felt his heart skip a beat. . his face was heating up slightly, his face dusted with shades of bright pink.

His mouth hung slightly open, as his gaze lingered on you figure, taking in the sight—your wings were lovely, much smaller than his . . were you a new soul? Perhaps you were a lower ranked angel and hence why you both never quite met . . He wanted to know more about you—he need to know more about you—where were you going? . . . and before he knew it, he found himself following you, trailing behind you silently.

He found himself frequenting areas he last saw you, it was all so innocent at first, many of his fellow coworkers described him as a young schoolboy in love, teasing him for his oh so adorable behavior . .

Takamoto didn't notice how much you were invading his life, he hadn't even been able to hold a proper sentence with you yet . . . but even then his thoughts consumed of you, whenever he did paperwork, he'd doodle your face, his room was filled with various portraits of you . .

He found himself overtime growing desperate, impure thoughts flooding his mind, greed sinking its claws into his sensitive and naive hurt—he was the utter picture of perfection, just look at him, he was everything an angel . . a human, anyone should be!?!? Why aren't you looking his way!— . . he took deep breaths, his own fingers digging into his skin, as he tried calming himself.

Gold drips from his arm, the bruise left from his fingers still fresh—golden blood stained his pretty pale fingers—pupils dilating as he took deep breaths, a ruined portrait of your face on the aisle, paint splatters surrounded him, tainting his legs, as a mirror lay broken on the floor.

"Fuck", he cussed softly, tears threatening to spill, his usually well-kept hair was a mess . . "why can't I draw them . . ?", he asked, his voice hoarse, as he tried his best to contain the anger he felt at that moment, "why can't I fucking draw them??", his nails dig into the floor, as the door creaked open.

You need to love him, you need to see him. He had never craved someone's validation, he deserved this, he deserved you! He could offer you everything, he was perfect! Everyone he knows, envied that about him . . surely you'd notice, you have too . .

He turned to face the person at the door, tears now dripping down his cheek, he mumbled something under his breath, before he started begging, "Please, please, help me . . my lord"

want more, buy my limited time only advent calendar?

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[persicipen]

𑑛 “CARNAL DESIRES” ﾉ MYDEI. HONKAI STAR RAIL

afab gn reader ﾉ words 1.9k ✘ so very messy and sweaty and rough. he likes it when you bite him. dacryphilia. creampie. reader loves this dynamic and to be absolutely destroyed in bed. there are cute kisses and praises though! petnames used — little thing, darling, sweetling, my dear. you also call him a king instead of a prince and he goes crazy over it ﾉ no proofreading because yolo ✘ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

He snarls from the depths of his lungs, a satisfied grunt ending with a purr when you slobber over his bicep, wimpy like a linen doll. Pretty little thing that wanted to prove that you’re capable of withstanding his ruthless pace and strength; with shiny eyes and subtle smile, you paved your way into his bed with little to no effort, sly and cunning darling with a heart of gold because all you’ve been repeating since the previous day was that you want to take care of him and be nice.

Oh, nice you were, perhaps even too nice, because the snug fit of your soused pussy feels too pleasant for him to let go of you and give you that much-needed break. The small creature you are must be taught what it means to challenge the mighty prince.

“Hush, sweetling. Aren’t you crying too loud for someone who wanted it more than me?”

Your head moves, caressing the muscled forearm until you bite at the pad of his finger, almost painfully hard. He swipes over your puffy lips with his thumb and you willingly let him in, greedily sucking on it and wrapping it with your soft tongue while at it.

The coppery flavour of his sweat tickles your palate. It tastes of nothing, yet when you lick around your teeth afterwards, there is a sudden familiarity to it; something you cannot get enough of. Pleasure dashes through his features as you nip at his knuckle, causing him to hiss.

But there is a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of your swollen lips — you are an audacious little thing and he knows that very well. He grabs your cheeks with a single hand, squeezing your face like a piece of dough, making you moan around his thumb and fail at bringing a coherent word out of your throat.

He frowns, expression stern. Without any problem, he moves his finger away from you and pushes your head onto his arm. That short contact with his muscles tingles with pain as he didn’t relax on time and instead of the soft skin, you’re greeted with a bulging mass of power. But it matters not. It gets you high on the reminder of how thin are your chances to overpower him, not even with that amazing gift of your wet and warm pussy.

“If you raise your voice any higher, bite into me… lest you wish to be left alone before I’m even done with the next thrust.”

And indeed you bite him, aiming for his shoulder to rake red marks that match the ruby symbols. He growls once more, yet this time in disappointment of your reluctance; but then he slaps your thigh, which makes you whine and bite him even harder. His fingers find their way to your nape to hold you like a frivolous baby pet; the grip on your neck tightens and loosens from time to time, in sync with the increasing speed of his thrusts.

The cunning strategist he is, he figured out what was necessary to achieve an equilibrium between pleasure and pain, alluring for both of you. All that whimpering and crying got him worried for a second, like he was pushing you beyond your limits; but seeing you with a sore bottom, glistening pussy and spit-covered teeth bruising his skin quickly brought him back to his old ways.

Without warning, he rolls you over onto your side, wraps his arm around your waist and forces you onto his cock once more. The surprise alone almost makes you cum, a shriek leaving your mouth. It’s unusual, he must say — this new position you found yourselves in.

It’s dim inside his chamber, yet the red evening sky piercing through the thin veil of the window brings out the beauty of your teary eyes.

It feels as if you’ve never been happier.

So he holds you, impossibly close, using his hand to caress your ribs while the other explores your pussy — the soaking wet hole that desperately tries to accommodate his thick girth and he enjoys the slight shift in your expression as he teases your clit with temperate taps of his fingers.

All of that fills his lungs with pride, heart with tenderness, eyes with desire, and mind with delight. It’s all an amusement game for him, teasing and loving you until you let out a string of pathetic noises which ultimately leads to you gushing the slick essence around his cock and between your thighs.

“Mydei— ah!”

“Do I still hear the strength to scream my name? Am I not doing enough to leave you breathless? Because this sweet body of yours tells me that it is not yet satiated.” He mouths at your neck, lapping up the glistening sweat pearling on your skin, drowning in your natural scent mixed with the perfume of lust. He inhales deeply, so deeply he feels like he’s breathing from within your guts and although his lungs are about to explode, the bittersweet mixture of your skin grants him enough motivation to angle your hips and manhandle you so he can pound into you with all of his length.

With both of his hands free, he holds you by your wrists, nailing you onto the soft bed, groaning, grunting, growling in a slow crescendo. It is all too much for you — his teeth jabbing your flesh, his thick cock throbbing close to your womb, his fierce embrace of puffed-up sinew and veins and muscles, the stiffness of his body pressed to yours.

Looking so precious, puffing and crying, mewling for mercy but wanting nothing more than to be used by him as he pleases.

The most perfect image to weigh on his mind after this lovely moment together passes; a perfect picture to keep himself warm during the lonely nights.

“My beloved, what would you do without me? Is there anyone else who could do as much to you as I do?” He kisses your cheek, gifting you a moment of calmness.

“Mydei…” you pant out barely audibly through drool and your dry throat, spent entirely but satisfied beyond reason. “Mydeimos, my king…”

Beyond reason that is, because otherwise you would remember that calling him a king wakes an indescribable desire within him.

But you are so little in his arms, so weak compared to him, so completely and utterly filled by him. So when he let go of your wrists to play with your clit, you unconsciously find the strength to turn your head towards him, inviting him for a sweet kiss.

And sweet it is at first — he licks up to your temple and then presses his cheek to your sweat-covered face, sternly pushing you to lay down completely. One last precious cuddle before he straightens up and pulls you by your ass to meet his vicious thrusts; eyes fixated on the pearlescent mess plapping each time he brings his tense pelvis against your butt.

“Look closely at what you have done.” He spreads your thighs, digging his nails into them. His voice turns into a low rumble in his throat, sending chills up and down your spine. With such an overwhelming view, you cannot bring yourself to tear your gaze away from where your bodies connect.

What you have done, he asks. Frustrated and with a painfully hard erection and heavy balls hanging below it, it seems only appropriate to blame it on you, the one who started all of this — your honeyed whispers when nobody was watching, that shy smile spreading across your cheeks when he passed nearby, the swaying of your hips whenever you danced.

Tempting gestures seemed to fill his mind every day, blooming into something far more sinister, lustful. A sly seduction meant to make him crumble and today you made sure to succeed in bringing him into the bedroom.

How often he had been tempted to corner you inside his chamber, squeeze you between the wall and himself, yank those fancy clothes off your curves and devour you inch by inch…

He doesn’t want to admit it, but seeing you already tired births a juxtaposed sense of wanting both ravage and cradle you — and the time comes to stop torturing you. So he turns you again and reaches for the clammy sheets and balls them up under your tummy to keep you in place while he adjusts his legs to kneel on each side of your body. Now he has full control over your bliss-struck self, fucking you as hard as he can.

There is one push that makes your entire body tremble — you spill hot tears from the overwhelming feeling. His thumb touches your earlobe, softly playing with the fine bone structure and gently pulling at the ring he had gifted you a long time ago. As if the ring were a lever for your senses, the sensation rushes to the end of your toes, leaving you sobbing while they curl, releasing all the tension. And then your stomach contracts, knees dig into the mattress, elbows bend awkwardly from the violent tremors which rock you against his firm stature.

The only coherent phrase you chant is his name between the sniffles — just enough for him to bury his length inside your pussy to the very hilt and pull your hips flush against his. The spurting warmth of his seed fills you up gradually while he continues to twitch inside your walls that constrict around him, sucking every last drop out of him. There is a crack in his guttural exhale when you try your best to arch your spine and offer yourself in exchange for everything he gave to you.

Mydeimos slides one palm under your head and lays it upon a pillow. It’s damp and cool, unpleasantly so, unlike his scalding arms which you nuzzle close to immediately, almost subconsciously. Still huffing, he moves the matted strands of hair off of your tear-stained face with the back of his hand, his half-erect shaft remaining nestled in you, keeping the mingled juices from spilling.

And though you feel boneless, there is no strength left to wipe away those droplets which run down to your nose.

“You’ve promised to stop crying as soon as we reach the completion,” he purrs while placing a peck on your eyelids. “Don’t make me worry.”

“It’s joy. I’m just— mmh, too sensitive right n-now to stop. I’m not really crying.” You force a whisper but even that short sentence makes you quiver. “It h-hasn’t even been t-that long…”

His mouth ghosts over yours, savouring the salty taste. You giggle into the kiss, unable to control any of your feelings and reactions. Mydei bites onto your lip in return; harsh punishment for laughing during such an intimate moment. His touch tickles you, especially around your belly where he holds you tightly while lying down beside you.

And when your body convulses again, and he slips out of you with a lewd sigh, he laughs along, murmuring into your ear, “Next time, my dear. Because this little creature demands so much more than it can take at once.” He gives himself a moment to listen to your slowing, still intense heartbeat.

Despite his gentle grip, you still end up squirming and panting in mild pain, yet somehow having fun with your helpless condition — how much love and affection overflows from within you, willing to burn for your prince. Your king.

[tojissidewhore]

gojo isn’t the type of person to flaunt about how much money he has.

sure he’s wealthy, and boy he knows it. but why would that be of any concern to anybody else.

i definitely think his love language is gift giving, so he buys you a lot of expensive shit pretty much any chance he gets. weather it’s some expensive jewelry or something that reminded him of you.

point is, you know he has money, but exactly how much is uncertain to you. both of you never really talked about money, it all kind of sorted itself out naturally.

you tried to bring it up once, when you moved in together. you moved into gojos apartment so you had offered to help out with rent, but he shushed you pretty quickly, telling you not to worry about it and that it was no way near an inconvenience for him.

so instead you did more things around the house, it was your way of paying him back.

you had been dating for five years and living together for about two, when you found out just how rich your boyfriend actually was.

it was your five year anniversary and satoru wanted to make it special. so he had taken you out for dinner to a nice fancy restaurant.

"how was your food?" he asked, arms tucked underneath his chin looking at you as you finished your plate.

"good" you answered with a smile. yes your food was good, and yes the restaurant was nice. but after 3 hours of sitting there, watching the waiters put on a show and what not, you were ready to go home and have your man all to yourself.

a grin formed his face reading your thoughts exactly. when the waitress came to get your plates gojo made sure to ask for the bill, and 3 minutes later she was back with the check.

he fumbled through his wallet searching for his credit card. he paused for a second looking up at you, then back down to his wallet pulling out a card you didn’t recognize.

this credit card was black, while the one that you knew was a basic gold one. of course you knew the significance of the card he had just retrieved from his wallet (and the waitress very obviously as well, by the way her face changed at the sight of it) but you didn’t know that your boyfriend possessed such a card. he hadn’t mentioned it once.

“so, how is it that i did not know about your black amex card?” you asked discreetly. you weren’t trying to pry on him but you were genuinely curious about it.

“I guess because I almost never use it?” he said, looking at you without turning his head. “why?” he asked pulling your body closer, a small smirk forming.

“just curious” you answered cuddling into him.

“you sure?" he asked raising concerned brow.

"yea, i just didn’t know you had two cards."

"actually," he paused grinning. “i have three, or rather two and a half."

you pulled back confused. satoru lifted himself up a little bit, enough to reach over to the night stand to grab his wallet. he took out another card which you did not recognize.

"here," he said handing you over the card. “i set up a dual account for us. i know you have your account and you’re good, but you know. just in case." he smiled happily.

"i can’t accept this satoru. how the hell can you manage three accounts?"

"it’s fine baby, it’s yours as well as mine. you don’t have to feel bad about it. presides i don’t ever use my black card, i don’t need it. i just forgot mine at home earlier."

you knew the requirements or reasons to get to own a card like that, yet he rarely used it? what kind of things did he buy with this card? okay, yea. this boy had money.

later that week, after getting all of the account information from satoru, you decided to register with your phone just to have a view of the account. and god let me tell you, you almost dropped your phone.

[dreammfyre]

dragon rider ⋆ jacaerys velaryon

SUMMARY. You are the only daughter between Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and Sir Harwin Strong. The war for the throne had begun and they had to be alert to any attack from King's Landing and the greens, which is why the queen ordered to send Joffrey, Aegon and Viserys to the Arryn Valley under the responsibility of Rhaena Targaryen. You and your older brother, the prince Jacaerys Velaryon are saddened, finding comfort in each other.

WARNINGS. +18 Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!oc. Targaryen incest (brother and sister) virgin!reader. +4000 words.

Jacaerys Velaryon had locked himself in his chambers after saying goodbye to his younger brothers, Joffrey, little Aegon and Viserys had gone to the Valley of Arryn under the tutelage of lady Rhaena Targaryen to keep them safe from the dangers of war by order of the queen Rhaenyra. Sadness consumed him and after embracing them for the last time before they go, he disappeared into the corridors of the castle, he needed to be alone for a while, nor did he seek to hide in the most hidden corner of the castle so he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling for a long time. Not even a night had passed and he missed them so hard, but he had to convince himself that even if the decision was painful, it was the best thing they could do to ensure the safety of the children.

How much more would they have to sacrifice?

Before falling back into another spiral of guilt and remorse, the door rang twice. He remained silent in the hope that whoever was on the other side would be convinced of his absence, but persisted.

"I will not attend to anyone!" he shouted angrily, an explicit order that anyone would have understood and much more importantly, obeyed. Once again the noise of the door got him riled up, annoyed he quickly got up almost running to the door, opened it ready to yell at anyone who had dared to disobey, but to his surprise he found the figure of his sister on the other side.

"Jace, you're here." You sounded relieved.

The prince leaned against the door frame watching you impatiently to enjoy the quiet solitude again.

"Yes, are you okay?" he asked unwilling to make conversation, but he wasn't going to take it out on you, you were his sister and had an obligation to take care of you.

You fiddled with your hands anxiously, not wanting to disturb your brother, nervous about the question you were about to ask. "May... I come in?"

Your brother frowned in confusion and concern then looked both sides of the hallway making sure no one was watching to avoid malicious rumors. It was frowned upon for a princess to sneak into her betrothed brother's chambers.

"Sure, come in."

You did the same as he did -tried to avoid being seen by foreign eyes, avoiding any kind of rumor- and entered quickly before being discovered.

"Are you busy?"

"No." He replied closing the door. Seeing you in his chambers was strange, it had been a long time since you had knocked on his door, couldn't even remember the last time. "Is something wrong, sister?"

It was hard for you to speak because you were so sad about the unexpected departure of your brothers and Jacaerys was the only person on the island who could understand that feeling. You were always the most sensitive of all Rhaenyra's children, tried to understand what was best, but you were going to miss reading stories to your broyher Joffrey, playing with little Aegon and Viserys who were beginning to say their first words, you visited them every day and said good night. Now, they were gone, the worst part was the feeling that tightened your chest, a horrible feeling that you would never see them again.

"I miss them... so much." You whispered looking down at your hands, twirling the gold ring on your finger. You took a deep breath to keep from shedding more tears. "I don't want to tell our mother, she has enough to carry."

Jacaerys felt a lump in his throat burn when he noticed you sad, you always had a kind smile that highlighted your natural beauty, but now and before him you looked dull, your appearance was enough reflection of your low mood, your eyes of a slight red color gave away that were crying not long ago. Jace took your hands between his, caressing your knuckles trying to comfort you with the physical contact, you closed your eyes letting a couple of tears escape that fell like waterfalls down your soft pink cheeks. Your brother hugged you immediately, his closeness did you good, Jacaerys always made you feel safe in your worst moments and this was no exception.

"It's for the best, sister. They have to be safe and unfortunately that far away from us." Though his words were more to himself than to you. "This will be over soon…I promise." He broke away only to look into your eyes and wipe your face himself with the gentleness you deserved to be treated with. Your gaze shone in admiration of Jacaerys' beauty, he looked so concerned for you that he had forgotten his own pain to heal yours. "Don't cry more, please." He begged.

Jace's hand on your cheek was gentle but firm.

"Did you realize that now it's just us left?" you whispered as a heart-breaking reality check. Your brother's face turned to absolute sadness, he had no encouraging words that even he couldn't believe. Jacaerys rested his forehead with yours closing his eyes feeling your scent, you were right, unfortunately you were only the only children of Queen Rhaenyra on the island.

Jacaerys' breath against your face felt so warm, he had his eyes closed in a quiet silence, it was just the two of you. Your brother sighed heavily, looked so peaceful, you had never seen him like that, almost vulnerable. Your hand went hesitantly to his face, caressing his skin with your fingers slowly, the prince didn't complain, he only felt a shiver in his body when you brushed his cheek very gently. Jace swallowed saliva with difficulty, trying to control his deepest and most forbidden impulse.

Impulsive, your other hand went to his curly hair, Jace still had his eyes closed because if he opened them he was going to give in to the temptation of your closeness. The truth is that you weren't thinking straight, for years your brother had been provoking things in you that you couldn't explain and other mens never, maybe it was the intense way he looked at you, how much he protected you or how inexplicably good you felt with him. That was one of the reasons why you decided to decline the request of your mother who had offered you to travel to the Arryn Valley to take care of your brothers and not suffer their remoteness, but you had to refuse because the real torture was going to be to leave Jacaerys in Dragonstone.

"Si-sister…" murmured the heir squeezing your wrist. "Don't do this to me."

Fuck. Your cheeks turned red realizing what was really happening. You took a step back to take distance almost falling over from your clumsy steps.

"I'm sorry, I didn't have to. I… I have to go." You apologized in agitation, unable to look your brother in the face because the shame that invaded your body after confusing you. You were a correct princess, daughter of the rightful queen, her blood, you couldn't jeopardize your reputation for an impulse you had managed to keep for years, much less an engaged prince. "Yes, I have to go."

Ashamed of your actions you walked towards the door dragging your long red dress, tearing yourself away from hell. You needed to get out of there before the situation with your own brother led you to make mistakes you might regret. You opened the door without waiting for a goodbye from him imagining that he must be paralyzed without understanding what had happened, however, Jacaerys closed the door preventing you from leaving.

"Don't go... please." His voice sounded more like a command than an invitation. You looked up meeting his dark eyes on you, you glued your back to the wooden door unable to take any more steps back. "And I don't want you to apologize."

Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it inside, Jacaerys carefully analyzing you.

"Jace, I…"

"You can do it." He interrupted needing you more than as a sister.

"It's not right." You tried to convince yourself, your eyes fixed on his parted lips waiting for you. "It's... stupid."

You were the most correct princess who had set foot on the island and that Westeros had seen grow, blameless in her actions and pure for what the knights fought for your attention. But your attention was on the heir, it was always with him.

Jacaerys knew perfectly you were never going to dare take the first step too guilty to live with regret, you were too attached to the rules to break them. So he took your waist breaking the minimal distance between you in a delicate and fragile kiss, a groping touch where his lips touched yours for the first time in a slow rhythm. The prince took your chin with his fingers holding it, he opened his eyes noticing your pink cheeks lit up and your lips moistened.

"Open your mouth." He whispered softly over your lips. You frowned in confusion, but Jace would never do anything bad to you, you trusted him to question it. "You're going to like it."

Jacaerys kissed you again, this time you listened fearing to do it wrong separating your lips a little more feeling his tongue entering your mouth invading your space, exploring and tasting you for the first time so hard that you clung to his shoulders. Jacaerys pressed you with his body against the door, you moved your tongue brushing it against his, had never experienced anything so incredible.

"Let me touch you, sister." He begged against your lips, running his hands down your dress, being the restraint he needed.

"Do it." Amidst the kisses and caresses you were spiraling into madness losing your princess modesty. Jacaerys had you cornered, he pulled your dress up just enough to slip his cold hand underneath, lifting your leg to the height of his hip, squeezing your skin if I understand your softness snatching a sigh from you. The prince's mouth left your lips and went down your neck, leaving traces of burning kisses, kissing your collarbones lost in the moment.

To both your brother and the people you were like a flower, the most delicate, the one Jacaerys always loved, you were his only sister and he had cared for you every day of his life repressing his deepest feelings. But always a dark seed was planted in his mind, he tried to make it disappear, but it clung to him growing, the desire for you.

"You're perfect." Murmured against your skin, intoxicated by your scent and your little moans. He pressed his body against yours in the perfect way for his erection to press against your center.

"Holy crap."

Those words on your lips sounded very wrong, but exciting to Jacaerys.

Just to fuck you he repeated it again, this time deeper, making your body tremble feeling it against you, he also couldn't help moaning against your skin when he pressed his hips against your legs open for him. He reached for your other leg taking you in his arms, started walking in the direction of his perfectly laid bed, you kept kissing him with euphoria, addicted to the sensation between your legs that he unleashed by touching you. Your thighs squeezed his body imprisoning him, one of your shoes had fallen somewhere on the way to the bed. Your brother sat with you on his lap, put one knee on each side of him, lying on his tense body.

"I can't take you, sister." He said caressing your waist, his labored breathing making it difficult to speak so neatly. "I can't do that to you."

You kissed his neck hungry for pleasure, ignoring his words full of reason. "I want you, Jace, you have to do it, not another."

Jacaerys closed his eyes clenching his fists over your dress as the prince heard you so needy, he was trying to push you away being useless, your kisses following a meaningless path.

"You are my downfall." He confessed enjoying your lips claiming his skin. He hugged you tightly around the waist, preventing you from pulling away too far.

"I think I like the sound of it." You responded with your lips millimeters from his, the heat of his breath on your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

And, fuck, it felt better than it sounded.

Jacaerys leaned into you and his lips finally met yours in a deep and passionate kiss. His hands on your back pulling tight against him as he deepened the contact and his tongue sought to enter your mouth again. You opened your mouth for him like the first time, he felt you lose control as you complied with his command.

"We can do it... another way." Jacaerys said breaking the kiss. He watched you for an eternal moment, your face flushed, your dark eyes with dilated pupils, your swollen mouth ajar desperate to keep quenching your thirst for him. Jace touched your face arranging a lock of crossed hair, your skin was burning, imagining his was similar. The heir was dying to make you his at that moment, had waited too long, but he couldn't disrespect his only sister like that. He felt walked into the abyss playing with your virtue and maidenhood wanting to take it knowing it wasn't right.

"What?" you asked with furrowed brows.

"Do you trust me?"

"T-tell me what you want me to do."

Did you want to kill him by hesitating like that? Jacaerys questioned, if only you had any idea of the effect you have on him, that he would give you anything to have you around.

"I want you to stay exactly here…" His hands found your hips underneath your dress, holding you tightly on bare skin, anchoring you to him like two pieces fitting together perfectly. You were comfortable in that position where you could feel a hard nub pressing against your sensitive center, Jacaerys moved your hips over his body slowly re-activating the sensation between your legs that ran up your body like a shiver. "Do it."

His imperative tone made you feel pressured to live up to expectations, wanted to make him feel the same way you were experiencing.

With your knees sinking onto the mattress you moved back and forth carefully feeling his length, never took your eyes off him at any moment too attentive to his reactions, the prince let out a deep sigh as your folds brushed against his throbbing erection for you. Jacaerys felt a surge of desire as you began to move over him gaining more confidence, the slow deliberate friction sent shivers down his spine. His hands on your waist held you steady not letting you go anywhere because that was your place, he encouraged your movements guiding you against him, his breath hitching in his throat as he watched you with burning eyes.

"It feels... good." You said with heavy breathing. You didn't understand the reason, but you couldn't complain, the rubbing between your legs against him wasn't something imagined possible.

"Gods, you have no idea." The prince murmured hoarsely and strained from the effort to contain his growing need to penetrate you if kept speaking in that dulcet tone of voice.

You were so wet that the fabric of Jacaerys' pants was immediately stained by you, you were so ready for him, but Jace was clear with his condition not to take your innocence. You leaned on his shoulders swaying faster rubbing your cunt against his member trapped in his clothing, a torturous but necessary barrier. With you on his lap the prince unraveled the simple ribbon on your back by simply pulling one end of a silk bow, taking the audacity to pull it down just enough to leave your breasts uncovered as you continued to sway your hips increasing the pace guiding by desire.

"I... I c-can't, Jace." You groaned clinging to his shoulder in desperation, your legs were starting to tire but it was the feeling taking over your body that wouldn't let you think straight, unaware of yourself. "Jace-" asked him for help sure he knew what to do.

"Like this… just… a little more." Gasped watching you so perfect on top of him, he wasn't going to be able to get you out of his mind nor did he know how many sluts he was going to need to satiate his desperate need to fuck you. He squeezed your ass leaving marks on your skin, your round breasts moving to your rhythm made him want to take them in his mouth once and for all, he looked at you one last time, the rubbing on his member only made him desperate, brought his mouth close to one of your breasts sucking just out of desire to see your reaction. You were fucking delicious.

"Jacaerys!" You called out to him, closing your eyes tightly. The warm sensation of his tongue circling your nipple made you move faster, claiming him for his foul play.

The correct prince heir could barely form a coherent thought as you spoke when you rode him like the wildest of the dragons, the sound of your broken voice sending another wave of desire through his tortured body.

"Just-a little more... Stay like this." He begged desperately for your mercy. His hands gripped your hips more firmly, guiding you against him, the friction between you was wet and delicious at the same time with a forbidden touch that only made it better. Your folds fit perfectly with his member, spanning his entire hard length, you opened your eyes for a moment finding your brother with his jaw tense and his head back as if instead of enjoying it he was suffering from his desires. For a second, you questioned where Jacaerys had learned to do these things, how long he had kept himself under the mantle of the right prince devoted to duty.

"Like this?" you asked innocently. The prince moaned at your question as the only way to communicate, he was ecstatic under your legs, grip on your hips tightened burying his fingers leaving marks. This time, the innocent tone of voice didn't fool him for a second, he could see the same spark of mischief and desire in your eyes.

You could ride him as many times as you wanted and he would find it insufficient, it was just a way of not feeling so guilty about what you were doing. He was so needy especially for you that he was about to give in to his orgasm just at the thought of pulling down his pants releasing his desire by sliding into your tight interior.

Jacaerys felt himself losing control, right now he didn't care at all if the door opened right now and he was found taking immoral pleasure in you. The feel of your body against his was something he had only fantasized about, the way you rode him letting out gasps at every movement, it was driving crazy. His hands roamed your body as if this was the last time, caressing it gently and squeezing it possessively, his breath hitching against your skin was the sign that he was about to come.

"You feel so good, love. So fucking good…" He murmured almost angrily, in a voice charged with desire you'd never heard coming out of him before, now his hips moved involuntarily in time with your movements. Couldn't get enough of you, he wanted you.

"I can... feel you." You said resting your forehead on Jace's who kept his eyes closed holding his release from giving you the pleasure you deserved. The truth of your statement was hard to ignore, the reaction of his body to you was undeniable. You could feel him very hard beneath you.

"Yes… you can feel me, sister…. I can't take it… not when you're like this…"

"But I want to feel you." Your request was only adrenaline for Jacaerys who obedient to your wishes lifted his lap with you on top so hard you had to stop to take it in, you felt his member harder than ever trying to enter being stopped by the fabric, this time you moaned differently, it was a different adrenaline. You squeezed your legs tighter taking in the sensation. "More."

"I'll give you anything you want… just… please…" he gasped with difficulty. "Don't stop."

You had become his most precious and wrong object of pleasure. Your brother let out another strangled moan, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his hands on your hips gripping tightly as he held on to the tide of pleasure that threatened to consume him. It was the first time Jacaerys had ever cared about female pleasure, specifically yours, wanting to give you the best with what little he had to offer at that moment.

"Oh, Jacaerys!" You exclaimed in a high pitched tone squeezing his shoulder, legs shaking moving fast on top of him so much it burned, Jacaerys lifting his hips in response only dragged you to orgasm, the friction of your body on him was driving him mad making question the fragility of his morals at the thought of taking you as his right there and then and stop fucking himself. Desperately knowing that at some point it was going to end, you sought his mouth to kiss him, however, both of you moaned echoing in your mouths waiting for the other to give in to let you go together. Jacaerys bit your lower lip trapping it between his teeth forcing you to stay close, he wanted to look into your eyes as you fell into sin, your hot skin was red from the effort and the rising pleasure rising from between your legs until a string of higher and higher pitched cries escaped your mouth as you reached the peak of pleasure, your body stopped moving over the prince falling in surrender and exhaustion. Jace let out a deep moan as he watched you reach orgasm feeling his crotch wet but satisfied.

You lay silently on top of him resting on his body, Jacaerys lifted your dress covering your nakedness. Your breathing needed regulating as you felt short of breath and heavy, the heir merely admired you, kissing your neck like a treasure that would soon dissolve from his hands.

"We have to report to the Council." You whispered, delighting in your brother's lips with the same guilt as at first time. "Our absence will arouse suspicion."

"I know… just one more minute." His arms still held you tightly against him, not wanting to let go just yet. He closed his eyes as you rested your cheek against his shoulder, inhaling deeply to take in your natural scent. "I cannot present myself in these conditions."

You laughed under your breath. The moment of calm disappeared when the door to Jacaerys' chambers rang another time. They didn't catch a glance as you immediately stood up and fixed your dress, your hands trembling as you tried to tie the damn knot but your fingers were so clumsy that Jace had to help you.

"One moment, please!" the prince shouted, fixing the messy hair he had been stroking for the last few minutes. The door rattled again, making them both desperate making the adrenaline rush through their blood again. "Just a moment!" Jacaerys repeated so angrily that even you were startled, he grabbed your hand pulling you with him to the door asking you to stand behind it. Your body trembled with fear, what if it was the queen seeking her heir and entering the chambers? They were a mess, their clothes gave them away, even the bed showed their sins. Jace approached your face as slowly as the soft whisper came from his mouth. "You have to be quiet, do you understand?" You nodded immediately, he couldn't resist leaving one last kiss taking advantage of the closeness.

He opened the door to find lady Baela Targaryen, his betrothed.

"Are you well?" She asked with genuine concern for Jacaerys. When you heard his voice, you had to cover your mouth with one hand to keep from saying anything.

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

The silence that fell was so uncomfortable you'd rather faint than have to endure it. Seconds which guilt took hold of your body.

"Are you coming to the Stone Table?"

"Sure… I just need a second." Her answer sounded so matter-of-fact that Baela nodded, but deep down she felt that something didn't sit right with Jacaerys. "I'll introduce myself in a moment."

"Have you seen your sister? I'm worried about her state of mind after her brothers left."

You closed your eyes praying to the gods to get you out of that horrible situation once and for all. Jacaerys had to lie in a way he was going to feel guilty about for the rest of his life. He shook his shoulders appearing carefree and confident.

"Did you look in the sky? She must be with her dragon, I assure you, my sister is a very good rider."

[galactic-magick]

Maybe in Another Universe, You're Still the Man I Love: Viktor x Reader

Summary: You get sent to the same alternate timeline with Ekko and Heimerdinger, and you find out just how wonderful your life could've been.

Words: 2.1k

Author's Notes: Yeah so that finale sent me into deep grief and writing is the only way I can heal I fear. I hope you enjoy this interpretation of what Viktor could be doing in the alternate timeline.

“Are you alright, darling?”

Your vision comes into focus, though your head is still pounding. You’re extremely nauseous, feeling like your body is not your own as you become aware of the all-too-familiar voice that just spoke to you.

You’re sitting on a desk in an Academy classroom, journals and various papers surrounding you. The sun is shining through the windows, cascading gold onto the other desks and tables. It’s a peaceful, simple sight. Something that feels so wrong for precisely that reason.

“I don’t have another class for a while, you can talk to me,” Viktor says, brushing his fingers against your face. “Care to tell me why you’re looking at me like that?”

You suppose you look like you’ve seen a ghost, which isn’t so far from the truth. You must be dreaming—maybe hallucinating—anything to explain how this isn’t real.

“I…” you start, failing to find the words to say.

-

You storm into the lab, locking your eyes on the empty hexcore cocoon, then at Jayce.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“I don’t know!” Jayce fires back at you, clearly just as distraught as you are. “He woke up and told me he needed to leave me and this place. I have no idea where he went!”

“Why didn’t you follow him?” you scream, your mind spinning. Who knows how the hexcore changed him, he could literally be anywhere.

“He didn’t want me to! What don’t you understand?” Jayce slumps back into his chair, his face in his hands. As soon as he notices a tear fall down your cheek, his tone softens. “Look, I...we both know he’s been different since he started messing with the hexcore. He had told me to destroy it...but I couldn’t. And now he’s even more different. I’m so sorry,”

“Jayce…” you walk towards him. “I’m not blaming you for anything that’s happened. He’s been pushing both of us away for a long time. I guess...I just thought maybe when he woke up he’d love me again like he used to. Did he even ask about me?”

Jayce shakes his head, and your heart sinks even further.

-

“I think I’m dreaming,” you finally say, and Viktor tilts his head. “This...this isn’t real. We’re not like this, we haven’t been like this in a long time. You’re not...what are you here, a professor?”

He cups your face and kisses your forehead, “Darling, I don’t think you’ve been getting enough sleep, you’re talking nonsense,”

“No, no, no,” you jump off the desk and pace around the room. “If this isn’t a dream, then where am I? Some sort of other reality?”

“You mean to say you believe...this is not your world?” Viktor takes in your words intently.

“Well in my world, you fell out of love with me in favor of your work, and then you nearly died and got severely mutated by the hexcore. So yeah, I’d say things are pretty different,”

He raises an eyebrow, “Hex...core?”

“You don’t have that here?”

“Seemingly not,”

You sigh, perching yourself back on the desk, “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“No, I...I have theorized the possibility of alternate universes before, but I never thought I would come face to face with it in my lifetime,” he starts writing on the wall chalkboard. “I see no reason not to believe you. After all, my wife of this universe would probably not be saying these things,”

“We’re married?”

“Of course. Now tell me, what else is different in your universe?”

-

You’ve tried to find him everywhere—going all the secret places the two of you would go in the past, and asking people if they’ve seen him both topside and bottom. There’s no signs, not even a clue. He doesn’t want to be found.

You make your way back to Jayce’s lab, surprised to see Heimerdinger and a young man you don’t recognize with him. They fill you in on their concern about wild runes showing up around the city, and their plan to check on the hexgates. You’re desperate for anything to get your mind off Viktor, so you go along with them.

You’ve never been to the source of the hexgates before, and it’s even more grand than you imagined. One thing could go wrong and the entire thing would explode, but it’s precisely the potential of destruction that makes it all the more fascinating.

That is, until it becomes entirely unpredictable.

Your surroundings change at the blink of an eye—warped visuals and sounds you can’t make out. You scream for the others, but no one can hear.

-

You do your best to describe all the important events and details of your timeline, while Viktor takes notes on the chalkboard and compares what you say to his timeline. He seems particularly interested in his inventions in your timeline, and his partnership with Jayce—who’s no longer alive in his timeline.

“He died in an explosion here at the academy several years ago, it was a tragic accident that also killed a young girl from the undercity. He was a friend and a brilliant mind,” he pauses. “We...actually named our son after him.”

Your eyes widen, overwhelmed by this possibility of what could’ve been, “We have a son?”

“We do. And he’s perfect,” Viktor smiles softly. “You really are from a different time, aren’t you?”

You nod, trying to hold back tears. Why does this reality’s version of you get to be happy? Why does this Viktor get to dodge corruption and the hands of hubris?

Viktor gazes once again on the chalkboard notes, looking for patterns and causes for the differences in your timelines. Would he have reached the same fate if Jayce was still alive? What caused the Undercity to heal and thrive in his timeline but not in yours? Was this hextech you speak of really so destructive?

You are the same person he fell in love with, there’s no doubt in his mind about that, but you’ve been significantly more hurt than the Y/N he knows.

He steps close to you again, wiping the tears from your face and pulling you into him, “I’m so sorry your version of me has taken a different path.”

You sob into his chest, gripping his clothes. He runs his fingers through your hair and rubs your back, soothing you as if you’re his own.

But you’re not his. This isn’t your life.

You pull away, taking a deep breath, “As much as I want to stay here, I can’t keep taking over the consciousness of the me in this world. I need to find the others,”

“I don’t know if it’s possible for you to get back,” he says. “You say you got here through hextech, and that was never invented here.”

“We’ll find a way,” you run to the window, looking out to get a gauge of where you are. Heimerdinger might have landed somewhere here in the Academy too, and Ekko probably went back to the Undercity. But Jayce—if he’s dead in this universe—where would he be?

“Before you go,” Viktor places a hand on your shoulder. “Would you like to meet our son?”

Anxiety washes over you, your body going numb from the prospect. Would it only hurt you more to see a life that you could’ve created?

“Don’t you have more classes to teach, professor?” you smile, trying to turn your nervousness into something lighthearted.

“I’ll cancel for today. It’s about the time you usually pick him up from school anyway,”

He grabs his cane with one hand and takes your hand with the other, posting a quick note on his door as you leave.

-

You sit on a bench outside the elementary school, your heart pounding. This child is going to run out that building any minute, eager to see the mother he’s always known.

But you’re not her. You didn’t carry him, birth him, or raise him. You don’t have the same memories and experiences.

But you must pretend that you do.

You know which one he is immediately. He’s a perfect combination of yours and Viktor’s features, just like you’d imagined. His smile is contagious, and he wastes no time jumping into your arms.

“Look what I made at school today, Mommy!” he puts a crafty contraption in front of your face, a colorful collection of sticks and paper glued together.

“That’s so creative, honey, I love it,” but your attention is solely focused on him, his sweet face glowing with pride and joy.

“Quite the little inventor, aren’t you?” Viktor applauds him. “What else did you learn today?”

“We did reading and spelling. I can spell family now. F-A-M-I-L-E!”

“Close, sweetheart. There’s a ‘Y’ at the end,” you laugh,

“Are you sure about that?” he says, wincing his adorable face in thought. “Whatever. I learned how to spell brother and sister too, but I don’t have any of those. How do I get one of those?”

Viktor chuckles, “I’ll talk about it with your Mommy, how about that?”

“Okay!” he jumps up and starts walking home with the two of you.

-

What if I stayed? You wonder.

You’re playing with your son on the living room floor, with toys mostly made by Viktor himself. The house is small but cozy, a home you wish was really yours. What if you just stay in this dream reality forever?

What if you never find the others? What if there really is no way to get back?

But no, that wouldn’t be fair to the you of this reality. She’s the one who has this life, not you. Besides, Viktor and his son deserve their wife and mother back.

You hear a knock on the door, and Viktor goes to open it.

“Oh, Viktor, it is so good to see you.”

Your head swivels instantly towards the yordle in the entryway, “Heimerdinger! You found me!” you join Viktor at the door, “Where’s Ekko and Jayce?”

“I have not found Jayce as of yet, but I did find Ekko and sent him back to his timeline about a week ago. We found some hextech fragments and were able to use them to jump through time and space.”

“So...I can get home too?”

“As soon as you’re ready. We built the machine in a young girl’s lab in the Undercity,” he looks between you, then Viktor, and finally your son. His attitude of urgency dissipates as he begins to understand. “But...I could not blame you if you want to stay longer.”

Your son Jayce comes running to join you, grabbing onto your leg, “Who’s this guy, Mommy?”

“This is Professor Heimerdinger, he used to work at the Academy,” you pat his head, “Your dad used to be his assistant.”

“I’m sure you already have a brilliant mind, my boy,” Heimerdinger says. “Your parents must be proud.”

Little Jayce giggles.

“Actually, I would very much like to see this new invention you’ve built, Professor,” Viktor speaks up. “I’m now quite intrigued by the prospect of other universes.”

“I have no rule against you observing, Viktor, but I’m sure you understand I must destroy it after we all get back. It is too dangerous to be left here unsupervised,” Heimerdinger’s tone becomes more serious. “I’m sure Y/N has told you of the destruction hextech caused in our universe, especially to you.”

“Of course, Professor. I understand.”

-

You’ve never seen the Undercity look this beautiful.

It seems that the other version of you comes here often, so many people wave to you and little Jayce automatically runs off with some kids his age to play.

You meet a blue-haired young lady named Powder, who helped Heimerdinger and Ekko in their experiments. She looks so familiar to you, but you can’t place where you’ve seen her in your reality.

Heimerdinger explains how it works, and both you and Viktor listen intently. With everything up and running, you could go back this instant.

The pull to go back is strong, like an obligation to return to your rightful place in the universe. But the pull to stay is equally strong, as you gaze into your husband’s beautiful amber eyes that you want to find solace in forever.

“It’s your choice, my love,” Viktor says, as if reading your mind.

“I know I need to go back…” you exhale, tears welling in your eyes once again. “But I don’t know what I’m going back to,”

“I don’t know either,” he caresses your face, “But I do know you are strong in every universe,”

“I’m not,” you shake your head, “Not without you.”

“Don’t say that,” his thumbs smooth across your cheeks.

You nod, turning towards the device.

“Could you…could you kiss me one last time?” you ask.

Viktor wastes no time honoring your request, crashing his lips to yours with lasting passion. He pulls away only as you back into the circle, leaving you with one last affectionate whisper:

“I’m so fortunate to have met another version of you, my love.”