#and hope they are good enough for me to get a pass

[marsdql]

only around you — p.sh﹙박성훈﹚

snyopsis ៸ acting like a brat all day with the members until Sunghoon comes back from practice and realising that all you need is a little bit of attention. ៸៸ ft enhypen members ៸៸ -> masterlist

genre ៸ fluff, smut, pwp, shy brat!reader ┊ wordcount ៸ 1.4k content warning ៸ sexually explicit content, softdom!sunghoon, p in v, corruption!kink, praise!kink, a lot of babying, unprotected sex, a lot of petnaming ┊ not proofread ៸

Laughter filled the room as you and the members put on a movie to watch. You and Jay were on the couch meanwhile sunoo, jungwon and ni-ki were sitting on the carpet. Your boyfriend Sunghoon went out to grab a few snacks with Heeseung and Jake.

Everyone was cracking jokes, playfully messing with eachother—however you on the other hand, was glaring at everyone with a death stare, your mind elsewhere. You just wanted your boyfriend here, sunghoon.

“I don’t wana’ watch this movie.. ‘s too boring” you whined as you gripped onto Jay, the only guy out of them who you could never act bratty to.

“Shut up, brat” Ni-ki snickered. “Y/n, could you pass the gummies?” Jungwon asked, making your eyes widened—everyone knows the gummy bears are reserved for you, how dare he ask that?

“No! They’re mine.” You told him. He gave the members a questionable look, wondering what got you so fussy today. “Did you sleep on the wrong side of the bed today y/n?” Sunoo asked, giggling to his own comment.

Just as you were about to get up and pull sunoo by the hair from his cheeky message—Sunghoon, Jake and Heeseung walked through the door. They noticed how nobody ran to them after they placed the bags full of snacks on the counter—sensing that something was up.

Jay gave an obvious ‘😬’ look to Jake and Heeseung. That’s when Sunghoon looked over to you, watching everyone else in the room stare at you as you kept your arms wrapped around your knees and your eyes on the ground.

That’s when your boyfriend broke the silence. “Alright, what’s going on?” He questioned the members, to which they replied with—“she’s been acting bratty all night!”.

You got closer to Jay, hoping to have his presence as a form of back up in this situation, he was the only one other than Sunghoon that didn’t tease you when you just felt like being annoying. “no I wasn’t!” You squealed, the pout on your lips deepening.

Sunghoon sighed, slowly walking towards your side of the couch and kneeled to get to your eye level, “what is it, what’s wrong, baby?” He asked you—you still refusing to look at him.

He started rubbing your legs softly, making soothing circles in hopes to calm you down. Soon enough, you opened up. “They’re being mean, hoonie..” making puppy eyes and sucking your inner cheek.

“No we’re no-“ Ni-ki was about to protest, before Heeseung covered his mouth—signaling everyone to forget it and pay attention to the movie, leaving you and sunghoon in your own bubble.

Sunghoon sighed, closing his eyes for a minute before getting up and sitting next to you. “C’mere” he demanded softly, pulling you up on his lap as you stayed quiet.

He held your chin, slowly bringing it up so you could face him, “why’re you feeling like this? Hm, baby? What’s up?” He asked.

You didn’t respond, only leaning in and hugging him tighter, your back arching a little on him to stay as close as possible. He figured it out almost instantly. “I know what my baby wants.”

He carefully picked you up and told the members that you needed to go to bed—to which they all agreed and said their ‘good nights’. As you got to your shared bedroom, he sat down on your bed—still holding you.

“You just needed me, I know, baby.” He coo’d “that’s okay”. You only whined in response, shifting yourself on his lap. “You just need some attention, don’t you sweet girl?” he whispered. “miss you s’much hoon..” you pouted, nuzzling into his chest.

“I know you do baby, I miss you too, soo much.” He groaned, bringing his hands to your waist under your shirt and gripping softly. “Hoon.. need you, please?” you whined, your voice full of neediness.

“Lift up a lil’ love,” he urged, gently sliding your pjs shorts off. Before he could insert his digits into you, you stopped him—“noo.. want it’ now, no prep” you exclaimed. “You sure, princess?” He asked, to which you nodded.

He didn’t waste time—quickly putting it in but still respecting your boundaries, letting you adjust before moving. He looked at you, waiting for your ‘okay’ so that he could continue.

You whined at the discomfort when he put it in, grabbing onto his shoulders for comfort. “Shh, you’re okay—you can do it, fuck—Like you always do.” He reassured, hushing you with messy kisses like he always does.

He didn’t waste anytime burying himself deeper in you after a few seconds of your whimpering. He missed you just as much as you missed him, especially knowing how cranky you get after a long day away from his touch.

Sunghoon added pressure to the bulge he was forming in your stomach—lightly pressing on it, making you lay your head on his shoulder and moving your arms up to his neck as his other hand grabbed your hair.

“You’re clenching’ me, babe” he groaned, pushing your body up against his even more, your chest getting pressed onto his. You leaned in to kiss him more in hopes to hide the amount of moans that were slipping out of you. “I love you soo—ngh! much h-hoonie..” you mumbled.

“hmph..Sunghoon! ‘m gona come..!” You moaned, lifting your head up as you bucked your hips, clearly asking for him to help you reach your high. He smirked, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt you squeeze him tighter than you already were. “c’mon, that’s it, come for me y/n.”

His pace slowed down, almost making you complain until he suddenly did one last harsh thrust—letting all his cum fill you up, a loud groan coming from the back of his throat.

You shortly came undone a few seconds later, letting all your weight collapse on him when you finally finished, feeling exhausted.

He started giving you little pecks—in which you gave in return, still feeling a little clingy. After a few, you tired yourself out and let him take control. “Let’s really get you to bed now, sounds good?”

[marsvs-thesun]

Had a similar experience after I failed to kill myself

Basically Ive gone to hide in a woody area and after figuring out I couldn't do knots, failing at my backup plan and having a proper honest to God mental breakdown, the only thing left for me to do is the Walk Of Shame back home.

It's night and for autism reasons the thought of walking into a light is unbearable, so as when I get off the path and find a streetlight I cant just creep around, I just kinda stand there for a second.

So Im trying to convince myself that I 1) want to go home and 2) care enough to not go back and finish the job, and Im just staaaaring at the streetlight when I hear someone gasp.

Now, I just tried to commit death in the woods. Im hunched over, rocking back and forth, sobbing/hissing occasionally, there's probably leaves in my hair. I cant speak, I can barely move. Im exhausted so my body is visibly shaking. I'm hiding from the light. Im exceptionally zombie-like. Incidentally, there are two 7-ish girls on the other side of the road looking terrified.

I stop moving. They stop moving. We just stare at each other until my phone (no pockets! Shaking hands!) falls on the floor.

Girl 1 screams. Girl 2, who would probably survive any horror movie, throws her shoes at my face. They run away screaming.

So that should be the end of that. Except. There's now a little girl somewhere on this road barefoot. And the road is disgusting. And I have her shoes on my face in my hands. If I do nothing she's gonna get the black plague or something. My brain 180s from "light bad death good" to "must protecc" and I shamble go after them.

Ill pass the 20 something minutes of zombie action that follow cause frankly it was a super traumatic event and not all of it stuck in brain but when I found them again, the girls had gathered their grandma and I was in the light and thus much less frightening. I still had to put the shoes on the floor and step back like one would to surrender a gun, but they got the shoes back, their grandma explained i was a person having a bad day and I got to go home and not be arrested.

Happy endings all around, but I hope they don't remember me.

Imagine going on a walk on a really foggy day, enjoying the vaguely eerie, faint and distant aesthetic of it all, and the soft quiet of having no other people around. You're about to cross a familiar bridge when you suddenly feel lightheaded. It's nothing to worry about, just a weirdly wobbly feeling that means you should sit down. And probably get more iron in your diet. Either way, you need to get up and you need to cross this bridge to get home. But now being alone has put this weird fear in you - irrational or not - that if you walk over the bridge, you might get dizzy again and fall from it.

Weird and lonely problems require weird and lonely solutions. Since you're all alone here anyhow, you can act strange if you need to. So you get down on all fours - not on your hands and knees, but on the balls of your feet, like a dog. And like this, you start to slowly creep over the bridge. Nice and slow, happy about your solution that made it feel safe to cross and get home. You can be weird if you want to, nobody's judging here.

You're creeping at a comfortable speed, very slowly, but the bridge isn't that long. You can kind of make out the outlines of things on the other side through the mist. The end of the bridge, a familiar tree, a streetlamp, the silhouette of a bush and-

A person. A human figure. You freeze mid-step to stare. That is the most definitely the outline of a person, standing perfectly still. Staring right at you. You don't know how long this moment lingers, but eventually you can't hold your balance anymore and you have to step forward, placing your open palm back on the cold damp bridge. The figure turns, and takes off running. Bolting off in a very normal, startled way that anyone would when they're spooked.

It occurs to you that you only saw the vague outline of an unexpected person, an obscure figure standing in the fog. They, however, saw the vague outline of you, something perhaps vaguely human-shaped, but moving in a way that people simply do not, slowly, very slowly, creeping over a bridge.

Assuming that nobody would see you, you accidentally became someone's unexplained Silent Hill experience.

[bsturnzmtts]

Needy

From older bf! Matt x sweetheart! Reader

Continuation of Innocent touches

Contains/warnings: making out, virgin! shy! Reader, fingering, oral f receiving, pet names, praising, slight overstimulation

It’s been a week, and you can’t stop thinking about what happened last time… how good it felt. The thought lingers, making your heart race, but you don’t know how to bring it up to Matt. You’re not sure if you’re ready to lose your virginity, but you can’t ignore the ache to feel that close to him again. And yet, a small part of you feels guilty, like you haven’t given him enough in return.

You and Matt are lying side by side on his bed, the quiet of the room making everything feel a little more intimate. You’re trying to stay focused on the conversation, but it’s hard with how close he is. Every time his hand brushes yours, your heart races, and you can feel your face getting warm. You subtly move a little closer, hoping he doesn’t notice, but of course, Matt catches it. He glances at you with a sly smile, his tone playful but soft. “You seem a little distracted,” he says, his voice low, as if he knows exactly what’s going on.

Your cheeks burn, and you quickly look away, not sure how to explain the nervous energy building up inside you. “Oh- no no.. sorry, continue.”

Matt chuckles softly, his hand moving to rest on your leg, his thumb gently tracing circles on your skin. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, "You sure? Because it feels like there's something on your mind."

You freeze, your heart racing as you try to steady your breathing. “N-No, it’s nothing,” you stammer, feeling the warmth of his hand on your leg making it even harder to think straight.

Matt’s fingers tighten slightly on your leg, his thumb continuing to draw lazy circles on your skin. He tilts his head, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, his voice low and soothing. “You sure? You’re blushing, sweetheart.”

Your fingers twitch, wanting to hide your face but unable to move away from him. “I-I don’t know what you mean…”

He chuckles softly, moving his hand slightly higher up your thigh, not enough to be inappropriate, but enough to make you notice. "You don't have to be nervous around me. Whatever it is... you can tell me."

You feel a shiver run through you at the gentle pressure of his hand, your pulse quickening as he continues to trace soft circles. “Nothing… I just think you look really good today.” Your voice barely above a whisper. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your body betraying you with every passing second.

Matt's lips curve into a warm, pleased smile at your shy compliment. He’s clearly enjoying your flustered state but not pushing any further. He shifts closer to you, eliminating the last bit of space between your bodies. His hand, still resting on your thigh, gives it a light, appreciative squeeze. "Thank you... you look really beautiful today too." He moves closer, his face inches from yours, he pulls you into a kiss.

You immediately start kissing him back, like you needed to taste his lips.

As the kiss deepens, Matt's hand on your thigh slowly begins to slide upwards, his touch gentle and unhurried. He takes his time exploring your mouth with his own, savoring the feeling of your lips pressed against his.

You can feel your panties getting wetter and wetter as the kiss keeps going. You can’t help squeeze your thighs together. Your body just did it, not even thinking that Matt's hands are there.

Feeling the movement of your thighs, Matt breaks the kiss and looks at you with a knowing smile. He gently pushes your legs apart, settling his hand between your thighs. "Sweetheart, you're soaked," he says, his voice low and amused.

The sudden touch makes you gasp, your breath catching in your throat. You can feel the heat spreading through your body, your thoughts momentarily scrambling. “Matt…” you whisper, your voice trembling, not sure whether you’re pleading for more or begging for him to stop.

He gently rubs your clit through your soaked panties, his touch light and teasing. "Shh, just relax," he whispers back, his eyes locked on yours. "I've got you." He leans in to kiss you again, his fingers continuing to rub your clit in slow, circular motions.

You try your best to hide your moans and whimpers but miserably fail. “I—” You swallow, trying to find your voice. “I don’t know what I want…” Your body starts squirming with pleasure.

Matt smiles against your lips, his fingers never stopping their gentle rubbing. "You don't have to know," he whispers back, his free hand reaching out to gently stroke your hair. "I know exactly what you want." He kisses you deeply, his fingers increasing their pressure slightly as he rubs your clit.

You moan at his words and dominance. Without even thinking your hips buck against his hand.

His low chuckle vibrates against your lips as he continues to tease you. His fingers slip beneath the edge of your panties, finally touching bare skin. "Look at you, getting so needy..." His voice is a husky whisper, clearly enjoying your reactions.

“Oh Matt” moans are coming out of your mouth as you roll your eyes in pleasure.

His fingers slide down, parting your folds and slowly entering you. He begins to pump them in and out, his thumb continuing to circle your clit. His other hand grips your hip, holding you still. "So tight and wet for me,"

“Mmh fuck”

He smirks at your curse, his fingers curling slightly inside you to hit that sweet spot. He leans in to suck on your neck, marking you as he continues to finger you. "Such a dirty mouth on you, sweetheart,"

“Mmh M-Matt I think-” that now familiar knot starts forming on your stomach.

He notices the change in your body and pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and sucking your juices off them.

“Mmh noo, why did you stop?” You whine.

Matt chuckles softly, a wicked glint in his eye. "Patience, sweetheart. I'm not about to leave you hanging." He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "I just want to taste you properly."

You frown your eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

His hand moves between your legs again, gently stroking your soaked panties. “Lie back," he commands softly, already moving down your body. "Spread your legs for me." His tone is gentle but firm, leaving no room for misunderstanding. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down. "I'm going to lick this pretty pussy until you come all over my face." He starts placing soft kisses along your inner thighs.

You gasp at his words and actions. You can feel your pussy clenching around nothing as you feel his hot breath getting closer.

He settles between your legs, pushing them wider apart. His thumbs spread your folds open, revealing your swollen clit. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "Beautiful," He presses a gentle kiss right above your clit, making you gasp. "Look at how swollen you are for me," His tongue makes a single slow pass over your clit, making you arch your back "So sweet..."

“Matt mmh” it felt amazing, you’ve never felt this good before.

He starts lavishing attention on your clit with his tongue, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucking. His fingers slide inside you again, finding that spot that drives you wild. Every time you moan, he groans against your pussy, the vibrations adding to your pleasure. "You're doing so well, sweetheart," He whispers against your sensitive skin, his breath hot and teasing.

“It feels so good Matt” you moan as you arch your back further. And your hands move down to his hair.

He feels your hands in his hair, tugging gently as you arch your back making him growl softly, the sound sending shivers through your body. He buries his face between your legs, eating at your pussy like a starving man. "Fuck, you taste so good," He curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot that makes his knees buckle underneath him.

“Oh god mh Matt I’m close.” you whimper.

Presses harder on your clit with his tongue, moving his fingers faster inside you "Come for me, sweetheart. Let me taste it all." His other hand moves to your stomach, pressing down gently to keep you from bucking away from his mouth "Come all over my face."

“Fuck Matt mmh” finally you feel that knot release at your body shakes slightly.

As your orgasm hits, he continues lapping at your pussy, prolonging your pleasure. He moans against you, clearly delighted by your intense response. "That's it, fuck yes," he praises, his voice muffled by your thighs. He grabs your thighs tightly as he continues to suck on your clit.

“Mmh no Matt mh I- I’m sensitive” you let out and your thighs try to close.

He ignores your pleas, keeping your thighs spread wide as he continues his feast. "Shh, you can take it," He growled possessively, his hands tightening on your thighs to keep them open. He sucks on your swollen bud, drawing out another whimper from you.

“Fuck pl-please stop” you bed as your hips buck in overstimulation.

He finally relents, releasing your clit and leaning back with a smug grin. His lips and chin glisten with your juices. "You taste divine, sweetheart." He gives one last teasing lick, making you shudder. Rising up, he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Mh” you kiss back tasting yourself. “Thank you Matt…”

He breaks the kiss, nuzzling into your neck. "No, thank you, I could eat you out all night.” He murmurs, his breath hot on your skin.

You blush slightly at his words and get nervous again. “Matt..”

Sensing your nervousness, he pulls back slightly and cups your face gently. "Hey, look at me." His thumb brushes your cheek soothingly. "We don't have to do anything else you're not comfortable with, okay?"

You look away feeling even more nervous and guilty you haven’t given him anything. “But… what about you?”

He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "What about me?" His expression is soft, with no hint of frustration or demand. "Don't worry about me right now." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I just wanted to make you feel good. If you're worried about returning the favor, don't be. I'm happy just making you come undone like that."

“Are you sure?”

He smiles reassuringly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yes. You don't owe me anything. I like spoiling you and making you feel good, okay?" He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. "Let's just cuddle for a bit, hmm?"

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[bibi-e]

Sevika + face-sitting

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, r! has a pussy, gn! terms, degradation (being called nasty slut!), face-sitting, edging, overstimulation, squirting, semi-public sex Ambessa's part

Sevika and you are no strange to it, the first opportunity she had you on top of her she was already picking you up by your thighs and moving you higher to her face, pressing light kisses along your thighs with her nose tickling against your skin to finally kiss deeper once she reached your clothed cunt. She pulls your panties to the side and drags her warm tongue along your slit making you shiver and feel your legs beginning to weaken, as she licks, kisses, and sucks your clit with pressure to make you near the climax.

She edges and overstimulates, it depends on her mood. But be careful, she can be mean and a tease. She has you bouncing on her face, her tongue sliding in and out of your hole and her cured nose grinds and press against your clit just to her rough hands grab your thighs and withdraw your cunt from her face, breaking an orgasm that was just hitting in again. Sevika only licks her messy lips, tasting your sweetness on them, and chuckles at your cries and whines needing desperately to cum.

On the contrary, she will use her force to trap your lower body on top of her and will not ease her grip. You can shake, cry, whine, and scream pleading words for her to let you go but she’s happily drowning in all your cum and juices that gushed out of you from countless orgasms she ripped off you. You have your legs close to a numb feeling, tired and spent up, without something to hold yourself you just hope she has a good breathing control (she sure has) from holding you down so tightly and not letting go. (if she dies she will die happy)

“Nasty slut, you squirted all over me again.” she groans giving you a full breath of air to your desperate lungs, “Care to show me another time? I couldn’t quite register your face and voice during it. Got busy with… something else.” she encourages and returns on eating you out through various climaxes until you collapse or use your safe word.

Seeing you shake and whine on top of her, legs daring to close around her head, and the view she gets on your tits bouncing as you ride her tongue has her pussy growing wetter every second. Grabbing your ass, your hips, she slurps and drinks all off you like you are the nectar from heaven.

Her favorite thing is when you wear short mini-skirts and go around her without any panties. Between you two, that means easy access to playful hands and fingers, sitting on her lap while she is at the card table gambling and taking more money out of the pockets of those men and she feels you pressing yourself against her muscular thigh. A squeeze of warning wasn’t enough, next was a warning gaze that passed through your eyes like dust, since you were down to play she was going to.

Dragging you to the bathroom at The Last Drop, she shoved you against the cold wall and dropped to her knees. Your moans were quick to fill the place as she lapped at your soaked cunt, lifting your legs so you were resting them on her shoulder and supporting you with a strong grip on your ass as you tensely tried not to fall from being lifted so easily by her. But this position only facilitated squeezing your cunt against her face, and Sevika was determined to make you cum quick enough so she would return to her game. “Don’t think you will get off with this, we will talk when we get home.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings: swearing, trauma, therapy, unprotected piv, oral sex (female receiving)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Part Twenty-Eight of Ink & Needle

The aftermath of Kit’s actions influences your daily life. You proposition Simon with the hope of moving forward.

Chapter Twenty-Seven // Chapter Twenty-Nine

ao3 // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

Three Months Later

Healing isn’t linear. It is not kind or forgiving. The strangeness of therapy is how it resembles a spiderweb, beautiful at a glance but a lie. There is nothing beautiful in facing what you wish to leave behind. Sticky and lethal and pure carnage rehashed over and over again until talking it out becomes a numbing dullness.

Hope therapy goes well today. Love you.

Evie’s text stares up at you from the phone screen. She’s been a good friend through all of this, giving you space yet standing by your side. How the roles have reversed, become opposite from where it all started.

Bravo’s wet nose pushes into your palm, forcing your attention away from the phone screen.

“Hello, Bravo,” you croon softly, scratching the underside of his chin. “You good boy. Best boy!” His tail whips around in a circle, kicking up a breeze.

Simon’s dog has attended every therapy session with you. At first, you thought is strange that Simon insisted on it, but now you can’t imagine not having the German Shepherd there. Nearly all of your appointments occur during 141 Ink’s business hours. Simon cannot join you in person, but he can send a piece of himself along.

“Where’s your dad?” you tease. “Do you see him?”

Bravo stretches his neck, glancing around for Simon. It lasts only a moment. He is clearly far more interested in the attention you’re giving him.

“He is right here.”

Simon’s voice wraps around like a warm hug. You went without it for so long that now it’s a treat every time you hear him speak.

Bravo pivots out of your touch, taking a step forward to situate himself between you and Simon.

Simon’s eyebrows rise slightly as he crosses his arms over his chest. The body language stands in stark contrast to his massive grin. “Protecting her, are you? Even from me?” Bravo half-whines, half-barks. Simon chuckles. “That’s my boy.”

He gives Bravo a quick pat on the head before stepping around the dog. You immediately lean into Simon, one hand pressing into his chest as he cups the side of your neck, his thumb resting on the front of your throat. There is a protective, nearly primal quality to the way Simon’s features shift as his attention turns to you

“Am I late?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No.” Presenting your mouth, Simon descends slowly, meeting you with a serenely sensual kiss.

All the quiet, simmering anxiety that sits in the back of your mind melts away like a last snow, leaving behind a plethora of green grass that reaches for the sun. Simon is your beacon in the dark, the candle flame that lights your way.

One kiss is not enough. You need a second. A third.

The old flame of desire snakes upward, slithering between your bones to settle in your chest. It is asking for the thing you’ve denied yourself the last three months—an intimacy you had with Simon before everything happened.

A fourth kiss. A fifth. Desire tightens its languid body, constricting until your breath catches.

“Get a room!”

The voice of a passing stranger breaks the enchantment, the building desire retreating to hide amongst brown leaves and sticks.

Your cheeks grow hot just as a scowl appears on Simon’s face. Shoulder’s straightening, Simon is gearing to tell the interloper off, but you grab at Simon’s hand the second he begins to turn. A light tug is all it takes. Just your touch, and Simon’s scowl recedes to a soft smile that he only ever gives to you.

With a quick shrug of his shoulders, Simon clears his throat and takes Bravo’s offered leash, wrapping it around his tattooed knuckles. He places his hand low on your back, ushering you toward his parked car.

“How was therapy?”

Simon asks every time—a loaded question.

You exhale through your nostrils, briefly glancing away from him because telling the truth is fucking hard, especially when it involves him. You settle on a half-lie.

“Fine,” you reply. “Productive.”

Fine? Yes. Productive? No.

Simon’s head tilts slightly, gaze assessing like he doesn’t entirely believe you. “Up for company today?”

This you can appreciate it. Simon may always ask how therapy went but he never pushes further than you’re willing to give.

“Not really,” you answer, this time truthfully.

Evie’s unanswered text is as much a reminder as Simon’s questions. Things are different now. Normal cannot be what it once was. There are fractures you hold in your heart, memories that you wish you could erase with a quick snap of the fingers.

Simon nods, apparently content with your answer. “Then we’ll go home.”

It’s a short walk to the car, but you savor every second, leaning against Simon with each step. He talks your ear off about nothing, filling the air with what he did at the shop today, and the customers he had even as he helps you into the car.

It’s a lovely distraction. Which is why Simon is doing it at all. He knows. He understands. Simon is not a chatty person, he’s usually blunt with his words, more to the point than anything else. He prefers fewer words than long-winded nothings, and him keeping you distracted like this goes against everything he’s comfortable with.

But Simon doesn’t know what you talk about in those sessions with the therapist, and you refuse to share it with him. He also doesn’t ask, and for that, you’re fucking grateful. You’re still coming to terms with it yourself, shuffling through the two and a half months you were gone.

Sometimes, you think things would be easier if Kit had just hurt you. That’s the expected thing, to be mutilated in unforgiveable ways. You think about his choices often, what was going through his head, and why he never raised a single hand to you. The silence you received instead is almost worse somehow. Kit refused to speak with you, and the only other person who saw was the man that brought you your meal. He refused to say anything to you—refused to even glance in your direction. It wasn’t until the coffin that you heard the first human voice other than your own in two months.

And the voice was Simon’s. Not Kit’s. Simon’s.

Today, you talked about the coffin.

Not that you actually remember it. You only saw it after you were released from the hospital. Simon took you to some military base because Captain Price thought that seeing it in person might trigger a memory. He was firmly against it, insisted that you didn’t have to do this, but you pushed back, wanting to see what that monster put you in. Simon backed down, but setting your gaze on the thing that you nearly died in turned your limbs to stone and your mind to smeared jelly.

Simon was fucking furious. You’ve seen him upset—and you thought you knew what anger looked like on him. How wrong you were. Kyle stepped in and escorted you out of the room. You might have been on the other side of the wall but it only damped the screaming match that happened. Their words were heated, the exchange loud, and though you didn’t catch all of it, you picked up pieces.

Don’t involve her again.

This is my price to pay.

She’s suffered enough.

Kyle, while leaning against the wall next to you and fidgeting with his watch, had given you a solemn smile, an attempt to reassure but only left you feeling hollow.

“Don’t fret over it,” he had said. “Simon loves you is all. Price knows that.”

“They’re screaming at each other,” you murmured.

Kyle shrugged, the smile becoming more sincere and genuine. “Price will hug him after he’s done yelling. Simon will grunt.” He winked. “All good, love. Promise.”

Simon never brought you to another military base or anything to do with what happened again. If anyone reached out to him to insist, you never heard about it.

But of what you do remember, it’s of what happened before the coffin, how Kit smiled when he brought you your meal. You didn’t know it was drugged then. He hid it well, disguising the taste and texture. You should have known something was wrong when Kit sat on the floor across from you and watched you gobble up every bite. But you had been hungry, and having another person near felt so comforting in the moment.

“Movie sound good?”

You inhale sharply, turning toward Simon’s voice. He’s standing next to you, passenger door open, the middle of the brow creased with concern by your reaction. The two of you are already home.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. “What did you ask?”

The corners of his lips turn downward. You’ve slipped off again—left reality for a bit.

“A movie,” repeats Simon. “After dinner. Thought we could stay in tonight.”

Bravo shoves his face between the front passenger seat and the interior of the car. His dark eyes dart between the two of you, impatience clear in the way his tail thump thump thumps against the backseat.

“Great,” you reply, slipping out of the car.

Simon’s gaze remains impassive, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes your hand, Bravo trotting along behind the two of you.

Inside, Simon takes your coat, hanging it up next to his before heading into the kitchen to start the kettle. It’s April now, but the weather is still chilly on occasion, and you could go for a tea.

“The new visa should arrive soon,” says Simon, flipping the tap on the electric kettle. “Price made a few calls.” Grabbing two mugs from the cupboard, he sets them down on the counter before turning around to face you. “Could get you a different one. A longer stay.” He pauses, a hopefulness twinkling in his eye. “Citizenship even.”

With everything that’s happened, Simon still wants you here, with him. Hands clasped in front of you, you meander into the kitchen, almost sauntering in the way you approach him. Simon’s eyelids grow heavy, that earlier desire forming in his gaze. The two of you have touched and kissed, but the few times any further intimacy has been initiated, it’s been by Simon. You weren’t committed then, still confused and dripping with a sense of being unclean.

When you’re ready. No rush.

Respect for you outweighs his desire. Simon made you aware in other ways—subtle glances and touches, gentle compliments—but never pushed, never made you feel like sex is an expectation. He handed you the ball and bat with the only request that you swing when ready.

“Is that what you want, Simon? For me to stay?”

As you draw closer, Simon’s hands instinctually reach out to you. You do not shy away but step into his embrace. Those large, tattooed hands of his clutch your waist, pulling you closer until you’re nearly flush against him.

“There are few things I want more.”

“Only a few?” you tease, and you’re greeted with a warm smile.

“Nothing, then.”

The kettle starts to boil, but Simon ignores his, all of his attention focused on you.

“I don’t want to watch a movie. Think I’d like to do something else.”

Simon shrugs. “Course, love. Whatever you want.” He shifts slightly to plop a teabag into each mug and then carefully pours the water over the top. “We can watch the next episode of that show—”

“No,” you interject, and Simon sets the kettle down. “I mean—” You lick your lips, unsure of how you want to approach this. “I want to…try.”

Simon blinks. “Try,” he says slowly. “Try…what?”

It takes every ounce of control to not laugh at Simon’s confusion. Placing your hand on his chest, you slide it lower, and lower still until the confusion on his face melts away and realization dawns. Without breaking eye contact, Simon grasps your wrist and draws your hand away as it falls dangerously close to brushing against his groin.

“Only if you’re ready,” he murmurs, though you hear the hunger. “Don’t do it on my account.”

“I miss you.”

“I’m right here, love.”

As you press into him, Simon’s resolve splinters. Your face is upturned, lips slightly parted in offer, and Simon’s mouth is just shy of connection. You breathe him in just as he does you. There is nothing you want more, to be consumed by him, to reconnect in the one way you’ve been without.

Simon lightly grasps the bottom-half of your face. “After dinner,” he says, and the curling need pooling low in your belly squirms with discontent.

“Now,” you breathe, a demand.

Simon’s eyelids flutter. Close. He takes a deep, steadying breath before opening them again. “If I sink inside you right now, I won’t last.”

The admission only enflames the already burning embers. You desperately need to cross this hurdle, to find this intimacy with Simon again. With one hand free, you gently cup him through his jeans, rubbing, finding him hard and wanton.

Simon growls, and then you’re being lifted. He shoves everything out of the way, hot water spilling into the sink and onto the floor. The tea is forgotten, the bags briefly floating in the sink before the water disappears down the drain.

“I’m not taking you like this,” says Simon, forehead pressing against yours. “We’re having tea. Dinner. And only after will I indulge you.”

“Think the tea is ruined, Simon.”

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, closing the distance to seize you in a fierce kiss.

Everything about it is honey-drenched. Sticky. Slightly sweet. You open for him, and he goes for a taste, his hand on your throat like a collar. This is the passion you remember; the wanton need you crave.

It is not gone. Only buried.

As your hands roam, the kissing only becomes more desperate. Your thighs trap his waist, but he makes no move to retreat. Not like you could stop him. He’s far stronger than you, and even in that strength he’s aware of it, not grasping too tightly.

Fingers delve, and in seconds you have the front of Simon’s jeans open, slipping your hand inside to find his warmth. As your fingers brush his skin, Simon breaks the kiss, nearly choking on his next breath as he draws back.

“Dinner first,” he groans, grabbing your wrist and forcing your hand from his pants. “Food first.”

“You’re a tease, Simon Riley,” you whimper.

He chuckles, low and knowing. “Like making you squirm.”

Dinner is a much longer affair than you’d like, as if Simon has an eternity to feed you. Every time you try to help, he shoos you off, telling you to relax and enjoy your cuppa. You eventually give up, curling up with Bravo on the sofa watching reality television as Simon putters about.

When he finally hands you your plate, you scarf it down in record time, promptly setting it aside to stare at Simon longingly.

“After,” he repeats.

“Buzzkill.”

Simon reaches over and squeezes your thigh, returning to his meal, gaze locked on the television. You try to refocus, but your mind is locked on a singular goal like you’re a man thinking with his dick and not his brain.

With a final scrape of his fork across his plate, Simon clears it, sighing with contentment. Reaching for your plate, he starts cleaning up, still insisting that you don’t move from the couch at all. This time, you don’t put up a fight, deciding it is better to snuggle with Bravo.

“Bed, Bravo,” snaps Simon. The German Shepherd grumbles as he lifts his head from your lap and dramatically slides off the couch. “To think you used to sniff out bombs,” mutters Simon, shaking his head. “Off with you.”

Bravo disappears down the hall, and then Simon is turning to you, holding out a hand in offering. “Come here to me.”

The delivery in his voice leaves no room for denial. Pushing off from the couch and reaching for his hand is easy. You want this—need this.

Simon’s arms go around you, holding you close. That soft smile returns and you answer it with one of your own.

“Still want to do this?”

“I’m sure.”

Simon’s thumb lightly grazes the line of your jaw. “Tell me if you want to stop. Promise me.”

“Promise,” you murmur.

“That’s my girl.”

With your hand in his, Simon walks backward into the bedroom. He pulls you in as he shuts the door, teasing a kiss but not giving it to you. You try to steal one anyway, but Simon knows you too well, leaning away at the last second as he slips his hand from yours.

There is no mask. No anymore. Haven’t seen it at all unless he’s at the shop, working. His sweatshirt goes, followed by his shirt, leaving him bare from the waist up. Even in the dark with a just a hint of moonlight, you can glimpse him.

Corded muscle. Endless tattoos.

Your hands copy his movements, removing an article of clothing one at a time. All this time you’ve been rushing, and now that you’re here, the undressing is slow. Languid. Simon is done before you, and even in the dark you notice the way his hands clench and unclench with the anticipation of touching you.

You barely have your socks and pants off before Simon is grasping for you, hands groping ass and hip, mouth coming down on yours with desperation. In this, you feel utterly wanted, as if there is nothing he requires more than to be one with you.

Simon’s erection presses into your lower stomach, an insistent thing that both of you ignore. His kisses are your favorite, you want them forever, and that is all you can focus on even as your grow slicker between the thighs.

You drape your arms over his shoulders and then connect them behind his neck, clinging like he’ll disappear if you don’t. Simon’s hands slide over your back and down to your ass, filling his hands as squeezing. Angling your hips up a bit, he rubs himself against you, a low groan leaving him as the base of his erection brushes the side of your clit.

Forget slow. Forget the fact that Simon admitted he wouldn’t last.

Unlocking your arms from around his neck, you reach back and grab one of Simon’s groping hands. Bringing it between your bodies, you guide his fingers to your pussy, desperately needing him to touch you. His thick fingers slide easily over your sex, your arousal apparent.

You shiver from the contact, but Simon? Simon growls, low and feral, and utterly primal. Flattening three fingers against your sex, Simon parts you, the middle finger teasing your entrance with a soft caress. It hovers, and then starts to slide in.

Simon’s lips move away from your mouth and to your chin, then to your jaw, and then your throat. More of his finger enters.

“I missed you,” you whimper as he settles to the knuckle. Simon’s teeth graze your neck as his finger begins to slide back out. “Every. Day.”

Simon adds a second finger, pumping both in perfect rhythm. “I’m here now, love. Right here. Not going anywhere.”

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp as Simon’s palm rubs against your clit. “I—love—”

“Love, what?” coaxes Simon.

“You. I love you.”

Simon’s teeth no longer graze but they don’t bite down. They trace a line up your throat before taking a nip at your bottom lip. His fingers begin to retreat again but you grasp the back of his hand, pressing, urging him back inside.

“Don’t be gentle with me,” you murmur, rocking your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers. “Fuck me the way you want to. Please.”

Simon’s head tilts to the side. “You sure about that, love?”

You whimper, nodding, pussy clenching around his fingers as his palm lightly rubs against your clit again. It’s lovely—slowly building that orgasm you so desperately crave. But then Simon’s fingers are gone and in his mouth, sucking them clean.

Your brain short circuits, unable to comprehend the change until Simon is guiding you onto all fours on the bed. He places a hand on your upper back, urging your front into the mattress as your ass stays up in the air. Guiding your legs apart, you expect him to settle between, to mount you and rut.

His mouth finds you instead, tongue parting your pussy from clit to opening then back again. You press back against his mouth and Simon makes a feast of you. The orgasm is a slap in the face. It doesn’t arrive slowly but as a thunderous force, nearly smashing you over the head with its intensity.

Thighs quiver. Legs shake. You cry out so loud you think Simon might stop. He doesn’t. He only continues through the ordeal, urging toward another and yet another until there are tears in your eyes. Only then does he draw back, wettened lips kissing the backs of your thighs and the curve of your ass.

His strong hands rub up and down the length of your back. Soothing and comforting at first, but then demanding, helping you turn until you’re facing him. Limbs like jelly, you allow Simon to draw you into his lap, to ease your legs to fall on either side of him, to help guide you to and then onto his cock.

“Want me to stop?” he asks, voice gruff.

You vehemently shake your head. “No. Want you. Always.”

With a final effort, Simon rocks his hips up just as he presses down on your hips. Every inch is inside of you, stretching, filling. You’re full of him, but it’s not enough. You need him to move.

“Simon,” you beg.

Shifting his arms, he supports you with his hands and forearms as well as his thighs. It forces your legs up and open, ankles and feet dangling. A slice of moonlight cuts through the room, highlighting the space where your bodies meet. With your forehead resting against his cheek, you watch as Simon guides you up and down his length, disappearing and then reappearing with a shine.

Keeping one arm hooked behind his neck, you reach between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. You create a v with index and middle finger, parting your pussy to open you up more, to capture the place where Simon’s cock penetrates you.

He’s hardly keeping it together as you tease the base of his cock with a fingernail Simon’s whimper instinctually has your pussy tightening around him.

“I want you to come inside me,” you whisper, breath brushing over his cheek. Simon’s hands tighten, fingers digging into your flesh as he ceases sliding and starts thrusting. “Please,” you add with a hint of longing.

He cannot say no. Simon never does.

In seconds, Simon has you on your back, flattening you against the bed. With one hand above your head, fisting the sheets, he rests the other on the inner thigh of your left leg, holding it wide and open for a better angle.

Simon’s first thrust is brutal. He buries his face against your neck, and doesn’t fucking stop. Every time your bodies connect, he grunts loudly. The muscles in his back bulge beneath your palms.

This is not healing. This is carnage. This is a burial.

Simon is digging your grave but not to leave you to rot. You are to be wholly submerged, wholly undone in the dark, to be thread unspooled. You will linger in this grave, in Simon’s arm, to know only of him. And then, only then, will you be unearthed from the dirt.

In the morning, with the light, there will be a calmness that smothers all. A closing of a door that will never be reopened. There is no definition in past, only a resounding future, and you must take it—seek it.

“I love you,” groans Simon.

His words are what does it, that breaks the flood, and shows you the way forward.

“You’re mine.”

These words are not a groan, more a plea. You’re mine because he wants it so, and all you need to do is agree.

Mine.

Mine.

“Love you.”

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[prettybiching]

Helloooooooo my love. First of all, happy new year! (although it's coming a week late, sorry about that) I hope this year is filled with love and joy for you!!

Secondly, piggybacking off your last reblog, yes desi weddings are so elaborate ahhh!!! I loved the whole experience despite how exhausting and stressful it was as the sister of the bride. there's pre-wedding events, a week long wedding and then the post-wedding events so yeah nearly two months of dedicated wedding festivities lmfao but it was SOOO fun and I'm moving overseas in a few weeks so I definitely had a winter for the books.

NOWWWWWWW, I'm going to be honest, I couldn't help myself and I gave myself some sneak peeks from all the chapters uploaded because every time I get the notification I get SO excited and lemme just say - YOU COOKED AND I HAVE MASSIVE THOUGHTS

You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.

Oh god, breaking my heart already. Daemon, I can't stand you at times ughhhhhh. What will it take for my poor girl to not have to beg for someone to love her and be considerate to her.

You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.

This is either going to end horribly or wonderfully and I don't know how to feel about either.

...while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.

GIRL NO!!!!!!!!!

PLEASE STOP TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF EVERY OTHER CHAPTER FOR THE SAKE OF MY WELLBEING

Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.

And there goes my heart again...I'm so mad at Daemon and the chapter has only just begun. I can't get over just how scared she is of telling Daemon about the baby because he will probably accuse her of incest (which would be so fucking ironic HAH) even though deep down he knows she never did any of that he's just emotionally constipated AS HELL. Even Caraxes is going to be done with his ass

In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.

Alexa play "I Think He Knows" by Taylor Swift

You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."

😭😭😭 STOPPPPP PLEASE SPARE ME

"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.

Help, I know this is a deeply serious moment but I can't help but laugh at the fact that Arryk whipped out his sword to defend himself against CARAXES

"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"

OH MY GOD CARAXES CAN SENSE DAEMONS BABY IN HER TUMMY WE'VE GOT MEDIEVAL DNA TEST SOMEBODY GET DAEMON HERE

"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.

caraxes and reader's bestie arc better start NOW

"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."

Oh my god Arryk stop tattling on my boy Caraxes like that. He was just trying to show some affection and protectiveness!!! It's not his fault that years of bonding with daemon also turned him a little dense and emotionally constipated like his master

"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."

The way I 100% believe that the foundation of the brothers' relationship is that daemon will ALWAYS do the exact opposite of viserys tells him so the fact that he told daemon to return to his lady wife, it will lead him to run as far away from her as possible (aka stepstones)

Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.

THIS SCENE MAKES ME WANT TO CRADLE MY HEAD IN MY HANDS AND WEEP BECAUSE WHAT THEY COULDVE BEEN IF DAEMON WASNT SO DENSE AND THICK AND STUPID AND UGHHHHHHH

Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."

you're so stupid

The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"

Daemon "I can never comprehend someone being genuinely concerned for me because I never had a mother, I don't remember my father's love and my brother was an even bigger emotionally constipated idiot who can't show me love so I'm going to mistake your love for you doubting my capabilities" targaryen

You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.

This is so tragic I've started crying again...

Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THIS FUCKER TO RECEIVE THERAPY FROM BRAAVOS OR WHATEVER BECAUSE HIS UNRESOLVED CHILDHOOD TRAUMA AND THE LACK OF PARENTAL LOVE HE RECEIVED IS GOING TO DESTROY THE MC AND I CANNOT STAND FOR IT I WILL DIE

"because I love you."

and im dead. im gone.

"you are mistaken."

"I love you" "It'll pass"

"I do not feel the same," he mutters.

FUCK YOU FUCK THE WHOLE TSRGARYEN DYNASTY YOU FILTHY LYING WHORE OF A DRAGON RIDER GO FUCK MYSARIA IN A WIG AND CALL OUT YOUR WIFES NAME AND TELL HER YOU WANT HER BECAUSE YOURE TOO SCARED TO SAY IT TO YOUR WIFE AND GO TO THE SHITTY STEPSTONES SURROUNDED BY NOTHING BUT UGLY LOOKING PIRATES FOR THREE WHOLE YEARS WITH SHITTY FOOD AND SHITTY WINE KJHGRRYVHBEBN LTLV

You nod, "I know."

Author, did you reach inside my brain and find the worst ways to hurt me? BECAUSE THIS HURTS OKAY

BUT IT ALSO FEELS SO GOOD??? WHYS THE ANGST YOU WRITE SO FUCKING GOOD??? IM IN LITERAL TEARS OVER THESE TWO, THE WAY DAEMON MADE HER BEG FOR HIM TO STAY AND IT WAS STILL NOT ENOUGH THE PARALLELS OF HER SAYING IT NEVER SERVES HER WELL ASKING SOMEONE TO STAY

If you're wondering how I'm doing at the end of this, then imagine this - IM IN TEARS and contemplating my existence. But I cannot atop praising you for how GOOD this chapter was. It hit right the spot. Thank youuuuu for yet another masterpiece <3

Tormented Spirit | 10

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS ITS STILL TOO FUCKING LONG I HAD TO CUT IT AGAIN T_T blah blah canon stuff/high valyrian inaccurate blah. please please leave comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Daemon does not come home to you that night. When you awaken, you feel sick to your stomach. The thought of food repulsive though, so you spend the morning looking for your husband, until your body betrays you and feels sick because of not having eaten. You realize that your state is not borne simply from worrying about the prince, but probably also because of this supposed life you carried within you.

You try to deny it though, chalking it up to your mind playing tricks on you. After all, it's laughable that you suddenly experienced these symptoms just after all the fuss of learning you were with child.

You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.

You'd never been so happy to see the blood wyrm.

"Daemon?" you call out, searching for him.

Caraxes is busy feasting on meat and Arryk is busy watching him, body tense and senses on high alert.

The dragon keeper comes to you, shaking his head, "se dārilaros iksis daor kesīr dombo." The prince is not here anymore.

You understood nothing, save dārilaros, which you knew meant prince, and figure he's probably telling you he is not here, which you could gather from simple observation.

You turn to Caraxes and point, "zaldrīzes." Dragon.

The man brightens, as he understands, "Caraxes."

You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head and hands.

You clench your jaw and turn to Caraxes, nodding your head in understanding.

The dragon keeper relaxes.

He mistakes you.

"Arryk," you turn to your ward, "can you come here please?"

Arryk's eyes linger on the dragon a moment before turning to you. You settle him in front of the dragon keeper, and while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.

The dragon notices you immediately and watches you near. He lifts his head and sniffs the air, and only then do the two men realize what's happening.

"PRINCESS!" Arryk shouts, sprinting towards you before coming to an abrupt stop.

Enraged, Caraxes cranes his long neck, roaring at Arryk, making him topple back on his bum.

The dragon keeper screams a command and raises his hands.

Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.

The red creature screeches as snaps his teeth at the two men, causing his keeper to step back and Arryk to crawl back with him.

Caraxes then averts his attention, shaking his head as he circles around you, effectively blocking the two from seeing anything other than his massive, scaly body.

In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.

Your face contorts at the bleating sound it makes. He lowers his head slightly inhaling and exhaling deeply. He makes another noise and you swear to yourself, the creature looks like he's fidgeting.

You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."

Caraxes screams loudly again when he spots two other dragon keepers come to you from the other side. He threatens them with a snap of his teeth.

"Daor!" they scream in unison. No.

Caraxes seethes and screeches, as if saying, 'do not tell me what to do'.

He circles around you again, and this time, he shoves you forward with his wing. You yelp as you are knocked to the ground with a thud. You manage to brace yourself, grazing your hands as you did, but your chest still hurts at the impact.

The keepers scream in horror because of this, fearing that you would soon be eaten.

"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.

You whine as you roll on your side. Caraxes growls as he bites your arm. The fear finally sets in as he does this, and his powerful maw pulls you up to sitting position.

The dragon keeper, who ran to retrieve you, shrieks out upon witnessing this.

You gasp when Caraxes roars back, and you squeal when his wing comes over you. The strangest thing occurs to you in that moment, and your heart finally begins to race— not because it sinks in how much danger you were in, but because, suddenly, you knew you were not.

You come to a stand, and with no regard for your safety, you reach out for the dragon's skin, somehow shocked by how warm and hard it is. "Caraxes."

He hears you, though you barely raised your voice. He is sensitive to the sound of his name. Caraxes moves back, pulling away enough to be able to coil his neck and look at you.

The dragon keepers, who were so on edge, altogether fall silent when they see you in the midst of the blood wrym.

Arryk nearly broke into a other sprint upon finally seeing you, but he manages to hold back and lowers his sword, unwilling to sheathe it.

Caraxes produces a sound you think is akin to a mewl, as much as a mewl a ten foot beast could make. You huff and feel your breath hitch. You close your eyes and reach out to him, ready to accept whichever fate awaits you, companionship or death.

You gasp, eyes instantly opening when you feel the wetness on your hands. Caraxes presses his snout to your palms, and you squeak, quickly pulling back at the heat of his huff.

He lifts his head and begins to pace around again. You are certain now that the beast was, in fact, restless.

"Paez ilagon!" you exclaim, raising your hands at him.

Caraxes huffs, debating if he should heed your command.

"Paez ilagon," slow down, you repeat as the dragon fully faces you.

You, and everyone else who witnesses it, are shocked that Caraxes listens. He quits his pacing and slowly comes to a halt, looming over you.

Your lips wobble, humbled by the idea such a fearsome creature would obey the commands of such a pathetic being. You begin to weep, as Caraxes lowers his head, sniffing you. Your hands dart out to him when he gets too close. You slightly topple when he nudges you with his snout. You feel the warmth of his breath seeping through your dress as he brushes against you. You can tell he is trying his best to be gentle, but even then he is too strong that you have to repel him. He makes the faintest of sounds.

"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"

Caraxes remains pressed against you a moment longer.

You sniffle and momentarily fantasize about the child growing within you. You lean into him in defeat, "you silly thing."

His throat emits a low rumble.

"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.

Caraxes slowly lowers his head until he is laid on the floor. You remain leaned on him for a moment, and then you pull away with a sigh. You look upon the dragon, thinking he is so much like his rider, and stroke his cheek one last time before pulling away.

You walk towards the dragon keeper you had blindsided and lower your head in shame, speaking the word you had learned for Daemon, "usōvegon." Apologies.

He stares at you for a moment, taking in your now messy hair and dirtied face, and replies with something you do not understand.

You nod at him without meeting his eyes then hurriedly walk off. Arryk is quick to follow after you, and his skidding makes Caraxes screech at him. He flinches at the sound, looking behind him warily. You do not.

When Arryk finally catches up to you, he takes your arm and calls out your name. He is alarmed by the red smeared down your philtrum and cheek.

"Forgive me," you mutter, unable to meet his gaze. You do not stop walking, "I- I was overcome... I did not think of anything but myself. I did not mean to cause anyone such immense distress."

"What were you trying to do?" Arryk quips, taking in your dirtied face. He did not know if it would be appropriate to wipe it with his cloak.

You shake your head, still unable to look at him.

"Princess," Arryk speaks like a plea, "did you know Caraxes would not hurt you?"

You gulp, quickening you pace.

Arryk huffs in frustration, calling out your name.

He forces you to stop by dashing forward, coming in front of you. You look up at him, eyes teary and mouth parted.

"I beg you," he clenches his fists, before succumbing to his urges. He grabs his cloak and wipes your face, brushing the dirt and blood as neatly as he can, "please tell me you did not knowingly put yourself in danger."

The tears running down your face help him clean you off. You honestly say, "I don't know if I should tell you."

Arryk is heart broken. He clenches his jaw tightly and releases his hold on you. He steps aside and you begin walking again.

You feel awful as you look at him. He is sullen as he walks beside you. You wipe your nose on your sleeve, "apologies, Arryk."

He shakes his head and opens his mouth. His jaw hangs for a moment, but then he closes his mouth, saying nothing.

You turn to your side when you hear your name called.

Alicent, who was making her way to the king's quarters, runs up you, eyes widening at the blood on your face. The red had spread as it mixed with your tears. She quickly pulls out her handkerchief, "your nose is bleeding!"

Your eyes widen, as you did not know this, but you quickly take her wrist and slowly pull away, "it is nothing."

"What happened to her, ser?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk is eager to tattle, "she was at the dragon pit and-"

"I fell," you cut him off, blocking your sister's gaze upon your ward, "I-"

"You fell in the dragon pit?!" she bristles further. Your feigning backfired. "What did Daemon do?!"

"The prince is nowhere to be seen," Arryk scoffs.

"I was- am looking for him!" you blurt

"Caraxes nearly attacked her," Arryk adds.

"Arryk!" you whip your head to him then back to your sister, "he did not!"

"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."

Alicent calls your name as you call Arryk's.

Your sister takes your shoulders, eyes immediately watering, "did you want to get hurt, sister?"

Your jaw slacks, "I- I-"

"Does Daemon posses you to do such things?" your baby sister begins to cry.

You shake your head rapidly, "no! No. I swear to you, this has nothing to do with him."

"Then what?" Alicent asks with a broken voice.

You gasp for air and feel a shiver run down your spine. You cannot tell her the truth, so you explain instead, "my nose already bled yesterday, which is why it's bleeding now."

"What?!"

"I already fainted yesterday and fell quite hard, which is why my nose is bleeding again."

"Mother, please," Alicent whispers.

"Alicent, I swear to you, you need not-"

"How could you let this happen to her twice?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk lowers his head, "I have failed-"

"I snuck behind him," you blurt, "do not fault him for my impulsiveness."

Alicent's heart is crush as she watches you wipe your face.

"It is not Arryk's fault that my nose is bloody. It is neither Caraxes fault for shoving me. It is mine. My body is weak and I have spent all day looking for my husband, against the behest of my maester."

Alicent clenches her jaw. It is Daemon's fault.

"I will go to the maesters' ward and submit to whatever is prescribed to me," you place a hand on her shoulder. You sniffle, "do not speak to father of this."

"Make sure to go to the maester's then," you sister warns.

Dejected, you look away and walk off.

Alicent takes in a breath before grabbing her skirts, marching over to the king's quarters.

Viserys is in the middle of gluing his diorama of King's Landing when he hears a knock on the door, "come in."

Alicent enters, sighing deeply before pulling a smile.

"Alicent," his blank expression slightly lightens.

She curtsies, "your highness," and walks over to him. She turns her attention to whatever it was the king was building.

Viserys shows raises a block, "a new tower."

Alicent smiles softly, "pretty."

The king raises a brow upon noticing the stiffness to her demeanor, "is everything alright?"

Alicent betrays herself on purpose by nodding her head too quickly.

Viserys puts the tower down. He reaches for her arm, "what's wrong, my girl."

She takes a sharp breath, "my sister—"

He furrows his brows.

"—she... she has a bloody nose from falling."

"She fell?"

"Twice," Alicent fidgets with her hands, honest agitation for her sister taking over her, "because she's been looking for Daemon."

His reaction to the name is instant. Viserys' jaw clenches and his fists ball in anger, "Daemon."

Daemon struts down the great hall, making his way towards the Iron Throne. The night was now deep and the few candles lit in the room only increased the tension between the brothers.

The prince looks up at the king. The king and two kingsguard stationed on either side of the throne look down at him. Viserys clenches his sword, "and where have you been?"

Daemon scoffs, aimlessly looking around, "have you summoned me to nag?" He clasps his hand in front of him, leaning on one foot, "I already have a wife for that."

His brother laughs, hard. It echoes across the hall, but it is by no means genuine, "I would not have ever known with all the time you waste in brothels."

Daemon grinds his teeth, face contorting, "so you've summoned me to reb-"

"Did you say it?" Viserys snaps.

"... what?"

"An heir for a day— did you say it?!"

"..."

The king's nostrils flare.

"... we must all mourn in our own way, your grace."

Viserys sighs, lowering his head in defeat for a second, then erupts, "MY FAMILY HAS BEEN DESTROYED!" He seethes, "and instead of staying at mine, or Rhaenyra's side you celebrate your own rise with your whores and your lickspittles!

"And wife," he scoffs, "your poor wife... do you even know that your mount has injured her?"

Daemon stiffens.

"She came to the pit looking for you and the beast caused her a bloody nose."

"What?"

"You chose her Daemon. And in choosing her you prove time and time again, I bend to your desires only to be repaid with disrespect. You have no other allies in court but me, yet-"

"You do nothing but distance me from court! From the City Watch, even with- with her... you do nothing but heed the whispers of that leaching old man."

"Leaching old man?" Viserys raises his brows.

Daemon nearly vibrates in anger.

"You mean Otto Hightower?" the king's lips curl, "the man who begged me—"

He laughs dryly.

"—over and back to spare her sickly daughter from enduring a lifetime with a the likes of you!"

Daemon is wounded, "I am your brother."

"Then why do you cut me so deep?"

"I see that man for what he is."

Viserys huffs, "a loyal and faithful-"

"A cunt!"

The king leans back. His kingsguard are ready to draw their steel. Viserys realizes there is no getting through to him. He looks away then turns back to glare at him, "jiōragon hen ñuha laehurlion." Get out of my face.

"Lēkia," Daemon steps forward, muttering the word that meant older brother.

The kingsguards step forward, showing a glimmer of their swords as a warning.

"I hear it is the first time your Hightower bride has been separated from her twin. It would do her health good to visit Oldtown."

He clenches his fists tightly.

"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."

Daemon does not wait to be apprehended and storms out of the room. He is bristling as he gets out.

"Mazeman bona ziry gōntan daor jikagon sȳrī." I take that it did not go well.

Daemon turns and sees Corlys standing by the door, hands clasped in front of him.

"I wanted to speak to you of something important earlier today. I hope your mood is not too bad foul-"

"Ȳdragon se sagon gaomagon lēda bisa jenigon," Daemon snaps. Speak and be done with this bother.

Corlys straightens his back and motions with hand, "it is regarding the Stepstones, your grace."

Daemon furrows his brows, vaguely recalling this topic being broached during one of the council meetings. The two of them discuss this as they walk down the hall. By the time the prince reaches your shared quarters, he's agreed to help the Seasnake with his concern.

You leap from your bed when the door opens. Daemon freezes as you scurry to the door, hastily running to him without even putting on your slippers. You stand before him barefoot, heaving as you clutch your nightgown. He stares at you, hands clenching into fists.

"Usōvegon," your lips tremble.

Daemon's face falls a fraction as he watches your eyes water.

"Usōvegon," apologies, you repeat. "Please..." you slowly reach for him.

He watches your palms press against his chest. He makes no attempt to move.

"Do not be cross with me any longer."

A deep breath flares through his nostrils. He realizes then that he is exhausted and shuts his eyes. He leans his forehead on yours and takes your wrists. He huffs at your feel, "you are freezing."

"I-"

Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.

You don't know what he says, so you make sure to tell him what wants to hear— what you think he wants to hear, "I will not defy you ever again."

He does not care about that. He pulls back and looks at you. He wipes the tears off your face and a line forms between his brows, "Caraxes attacked you?"

One of your hands instinctively comes to your philtrum, "no. I-" you shake your head, "I fell."

You don't know why you think Daemon would be satisfied with your answer. He presses, "tell me exactly what happened."

You huff, "I was... yesterday, I fainted—"

"Fainted?"

"—then I fell."

He shakes his head, "this happened in the dragon pit?"

"... no. When... when I was chasing after you."

Daemon brushes your hair back.

You cannot hold his gaze, "I went to the pit, hoping you'd be there and-" you realize you cannot tell him what happened. You cannot tell him you walked to his mount and his mount did not attack you because he could smell part of him in you. You huff, "-and Caraxes got close and knocked me over."

"Did he try to bite you?"

You debate for a second before shaking your head.

Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."

Your throat tightens. Goosebumps form on your arm when Daemon traces your nose with his thumb.

"And your nose bled?"

You do not want to answer.

He sighs, "I will reintroduce you to him, so that he does not act so-"

"It's not his fault!" you blurt, "not really."

He knits his brows.

"When I fainted and fell, my nose already bled, so..." you motion with a finger, "Caraxes simply... set off a previous injury."

He says absolutely nothing.

"My body is weak," you mumble, hoping to explain it better, "I've had worse injuries."

"Do you tell me this so that I will not bring you to Caraxes?"

"No," you shake your head, "no. Just... so you do not..." worry, you almost say, but then the idea feels presumptuous.

"Not fault my beast for acting like one?" Daemon asks, as he heads for his cabinet.

You look at him for a moment then follow. You decide to hum and proceed to help him get undressed.

Your husband examines your face. The moonlight mixed with candlelight makes your skin glow. He is loathe to think your tears add to it, but it's unfortunately true. Your being glistens because of all these things. He interrupts your unbuttoning by taking your cheeks and slowly wiping off the tears on your lashes.

You blink at him, "better?"

"Gevie," he says, brushing your throat with his thumbs.

You nod, though you still did not know what that meant. You push his doublet past his shoulders and once his dress shirt remained, he is quick to remove his shoes as you bring his clothes to the hamper. When you walk back to him, he is picking out clothes from his closet. You are deeply confused when he hands you a stack of shirts.

Daemon moves to his other cabinet and says, "pack those in my trunk for me."

You freeze and blink rapidly, "I-" you turn to his truck, which was atop his closet. Your heart races, "I cannot reach it."

Daemon pulls out more clothing before looking at you. You watch him closely as he stands and reaches for the trunk. He places it on the floor and opens it.

You slowly kneel on the floor beside it, doing your best to keep calm in this moment. Are you leaving? You nearly ask him, but you don't because he clearly is. You begin to fold his clothes, but you cannot hold your peace, "where are you going?"

Daemon stuffs his clothes into his trunk and sighs before crouching down to fix them, "the Stepstones."

"W-what?"

"The Seasnake needs help with the Crabfeeder, so I will help him."

"Why?" you blurt all too quickly.

Daemon straightens up. He looks down at you as you shake your head and quickly finish folding his clothes.

"Why must it be you?"

The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"

He is taken aback by how you chuck his clothes into his trunk rather aggressively. His face begins to harden with anger but then you make a noise and lean into the trunk, heaving deeply in and out.

"Wha-"

You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.

Whatever choler was building in him quickly dissipates and morphs into... fear, or rather, worry. He calls out your name, reaching for your head.

"You cannot leave me," you shudder, gripping his calves for dear life. You look up at him, face wholly distraught but not teary. You find yourself too tired to shed a tear.

Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.

Your hands remain gripping the sides of his shirt as you stare at him. You take in his stoic expression as you gather the nerve to repeat, "you cannot leave m-"

"And why can't I?" he quips as his insecurity gets ahead of himself.

You hear it in his voice. You hear how he thinks you're challenging him. You shake your head and correct yourself, "n-no," you shudder, "no, Daemon, no. I- I want you to stay." You brush your palms up his chest.

He can feel the tremble of your hands as they come to his cheeks. He knit his brows at your confession. He has to ask, "why?"

You could tell him many reasons. The one possibly most relevant to him is that of the fact you were carrying his unborn child. A shiver runs down your spine; you are not foolish enough to believe this would be something that would make him want to stay. You could always tell him you needed him, your health needed him, because it was true. As much as he clawed your fragile heart, he made it soar in ways you've never experienced. But there was a rather simpler truth to that need, though attached to a very complicated feeling, "because I love you."

Daemon's expression falls. Though his lips barely part, you can tell that he is gobsmacked. You release a shaky breath as you swipe his chin and jaw with the pads of your thumbs.

Should he be so shocked? Love in a marriage is not so uncommon, even if it is arranged, even if it felt opposite in the beginning.

So, what?

What was your love to him? It would wax and wane like his brother's— and his brother, his fucking brother. He could not grant him the satisfaction. Daemon takes you by the wrists and slowly pries you off, "you are mistaken."

You take a deep breath at his words. You are perfectly still.

"I do not feel the same," he mutters.

Daemon was not one to lie, convinced such an act was beneath him, reserved for incapable, lesser men; half-wits, and yellow-bellies. The only reason he could say this was because the cup in which you held your love for him was far deeper than the one he had for you, and he was aware of it. He loved himself far more than he could ever bring himself to love anyone; he would always be first.

Still, he was not an incapable, lesser man, nor was he a half-witted yellow-belly. He knew of the cup he held, which oft overflowed. The mere thought of you triggered a smell in the air, and at the mention of your name, his bones ignited. You were his, and you held his regard, his affection, his lust, and, yes, his love.

All of this, he was about to explain, but then your reaction blind-sided him.

You nod, "I know."

How terrible it was to hear it. He knew his words where callous. He knew wuch an admission is a gash from a jagged blade— to not be loved by who you loved. Yet your casual resignation to this information stung, nay, scorched his heart.

Is it cold? Is his love so dry you cannot even feel it?

His grip on you falters.

You bring your hands to his shoulders. You rub his bicep and smile softly in reassurance, "I do not mind."

"What?"

Your smile widens a fraction, "I know you enjoy the... delicateness of my body, both intimately and-" you motion to yourself, "-regarding my affliction."

He knits his brows.

"It is wholly contrary to yours, and it is mirthful to you," you nod again, "I understand."

"Do you?" he raises his furrowed brows.

You slowly loosen your hold on him. You pull away to fidget with your fingers, "do I not?"

"No," he scoffs under his breath, chest tightening far too much he has to move past you, "I don't think you do."

You are quick to grab him but it slips, "then make me understand."

Daemon stops in his tracks, turning back to you as his breathing picks up.

Your own does the same, but your gasps get shorter and shorter, so much so, you feel yourself get lightheaded. Your husband has to grab you to keep you upright, but you want to show him you have the will to overcome this, that you aren't dead weight, so push him away and mutter, "I- I can do it, Daemon."

He misinterprets you. You scorch him again. He squeezes your arms, "you don't want my help now?"

"No," you say as try to catch your breath, "I- I just-" you cannot continue.

Daemon has to sit you down to help calm you down. He tried to keep you upright, but then he realizes you were consciously trying to lean into his chest, so he lets you. You press your cheek against his warm muscles and sigh at the beat of his heart. You wrap your arms around him, "I want this."

He stares at your brown hair for a moment.

"I want all of this," you sigh, "which is why I want to be what you want me to be."

He finally lets himself embrace you, but just then, you pull away to look at him.

"I can do it," you nod as you take a final deep breath, "I can be a dutiful wife— I will be a dutiful wife. I will not defy you. I will do as you please. I will not expect more than I ought."

"You cannot do everything for me," Daemon says with slight contempt, a line between his brows.

"I-" you shake your head, "... I know," you shake your head faster, taking his hands, "but can I make you stay?"

He looks at how you hold him. He feels sick.

"What can I do to ma-"

"You do not understand," he pulls his hand away, "my brother wants me to leave. He is sick of me and prays for my riddance."

You watch as Daemon stands and paces around.

"He told me to bring you to your twin in Oldtown, and I would sooner eat Caraxes' shit than be tossed aside to the fucking Reach."

You shake your head, "why does he want you to leave?"

"He is weepy over the drunken words I spoke."

"Well, what did you-"

"Does it matter?!" he snaps, raising his hands, "I must leave!"

He is clearly upset. You nod your head and come to a stand, "then I will speak to the k-"

"No!" he shouts, "I will not have my wife act on my behalf, as though I rolled my belly."

"You are not rolling your belly, I am."

"You think there is a fucking difference?!" he quips, marching in front of you, "no! I am to leave in the dawn, so pack my fucking things, woman!"

You grit your teeth in an attempt to steel yourself away. It does not prevent the tears from running down your cheeks.

Daemon's nostrils flare as you go back to his trunk and sort out his clothes. He hears your soft whimpers and slowly begins to deflate. He wipes his face, slowly turning to you. He watches tears drop onto his garbs, "have you nothing to say?"

You sniffle and shake your head rapidly.

"No?!" his expression pinches.

You stand and grab the rest of this clothes. You sniffle with difficulty then sigh deeply. Your voice is shaky, "I want only to please you."

Daemon chuckles dryly, aimlessly looking around, "you think this pleases me?"

"Then tell me what will!" you whip your head around, clutching his clothes tightly in your arms, "I implore you." You step forward and haphazardly drop everything to his trunk, "I cannot please you if you refuse to tell me what you want."

"I want to go to the fucking Stepstones!" he points to nowhere.

You are shattered. How terrible of him to make it so painfully clear that what he wants does not even involve you. He does not want you, or even if he did, you cannot be enough. You lower your gaze.

"I want you to beg me to stay."

You look up at him. You chuckle dryly under your breath when you realize he's being serious. Your sorrow is not enough, it seems, now he wants even your shame.

Daemon tenses when you get on your knees.

You grip the fabric of his trousers as tightly as possible in an attempt to steel yourself, but it does not prevent your tears from falling. You shudder, "please."

"..."

"Stay. I beg you."

Your prince gazes upon your bitterness. He brushes your cheek and feels the coldness of your tears. He sighs because this does not affect him the way he had hoped.

It is not enough.

Dawn breaks, and Caraxes is restless. Daemon's things were being secured on his dragon, but that is not why so many dragon keepers had to keep him in check.

There, by the entrance, you stood with your hands clasped together and your head hung low. Both your wards behind you, eyeing your prince, who was doing his best to calm his ride as the last of his things were readied. Daemon did not know Caraxes was acting this way because of your distress, but the keepers slowly began to realize this was the case.

One of the keepers call out, "ñuha dārilaros, aōha ābrazȳrys." My prince, your wife.

"Rȳbagon, Caraxes!" Daemon snaps at his dragon to listen. Caraxes shakes his head and the prince spares the dragon keeper a glance, "skoros hen zirȳla?" What of her?

"Aōha zaldrīzes kostagon yknagon zirȳla boter." Your dragon can smell her suffering.

The prince turns to you, back to Caraxes, "iksis ziry zirȳla, Caraxes?" Is it her, Caraxes.

You lift your gaze when you hear Daemon call for you. He beckons you over and before you can move, Arryk grabs your arm and whispers, "I do not think this wise."

You slightly turn to him, "he will not harm me. You saw how Caraxes acted yesterday."

"It is not the dragon I worry about."

You look at the man, seeing how his jaw is clenched. You place a hand on his shoulder plate before walking towards your husband.

Rather immediately, there is a shift in Caraxes's demeanor. He huffs and screeches, neck coiling so his head could come near you. Daemon barks out multiple commands and his mount finally obeys.

The prince knits his brows then turns to you, reaching out a hand. You take it and find yourself pulled into your husband's arms. Your skin pricks with goosebumps when he whispers in your ear, "he wants you."

You sigh and close your eyes, resigning yourself to Daemon. He links his fingers into yours and places it atop his dragon's snout.

Caraxes sighs and slightly leans in.

Daemon is astounded by this, "I did not know he could possibly care for someone more than his rider."

You slowly open your eyes and look at the creatures ruby scales. "He does not," you mutter, rubbing one hand on your belly.

He does not hear this. When he turns you around, he catches you rubbing your stomach. He sighs and takes your hand, "do not weep so bitterly."

You cannot do anything but the opposite. Tears stream down your cheeks, "do not be so cruel then."

Daemon watches how your lips wobble. A line forms between his brows, "do not make this harder than it should."

You pull away from him and lower your gaze, "then just leave me now, and spare me the slow torture."

He tenses at your words. His expression hardens, "I did not ask you to see me off."

"Shall I leave then?" you snap, eyes red as you look back at him.

"Yes!"

You grab your skirt and walk towards the twins.

Daemon is stunned. He turns around and watches as you storm off. He calls your name, once, twice, and then he is sobered by the scream of Caraxes. You do not even stop by the entrance anymore, and walk past your kingsguards, who are quick to follow after you.

Here you were doing his bidding, following his wishes, yet there was no satisfaction. All there was... was less of you, less of your strength, your light, your fire.

Daemon turns to Caraxes, who was restless again. He pushes past the dragon keepers and saddles up. He orders Caraxes to start walking, so he does. The blood wrym begins to crawl towards you and the prince has to reel him back, barking out orders of obedience far too loudly.

Caraxes gives a loud screech before following the order. He huffs so deeply that the wind it produces makes you topple.

Your knights are quick to keep you upright, and though you so badly want to turn around, you remind yourself that your husband has done nothing but all he wants since you've wed. If he wanted you to stay, he would have told you.

You wouldn't know then that Daemon made Caraxes stop in his tracks. You wouldn't know that as he watched you walk off, he was mumbling under his breath that you turn around. You just kept walking yet he still waited for you to turn back, even after your figure had disappeared.

He would also never know that you headed down to the docks near the Keep, just to watch Caraxes fly away one last time. He would never know how your skin pricked with gooseflesh at the sight of the red winged beast soaring above. He would never know how hard it became for you to breathe.

"Gods, please," you mumble as your eyes endlessly watered, "swiftly return him to me."

Arryk and Erryk, stood on either side of you, glared at the sky as they heard your broken voice. They were on high alert as the docks were busy at this hour, and yet, it was necessary to convey their contempt, even if the person it was meant for could not see.

"Give me back my husband," you look at your reflection in the water, "or take me to my mother."

Before your words even register to either of the twins, you've already jumped into the water. Erryk nearly jumps in with you before realizing his armor would surely make him sink. "PRINCESS!" he screams as he undoes his armor.

"THE PRINCESS!" Arryk screams to the fisherman, "SHE'S FALLEN INTO THE WATER!"

The commotion is great. It is loud and frantic, yet as your body plunges and slowly begins to float, you care little. You feel someone fish you out of the water by the arm, and you want nothing more than to break free and swim towards your demise. But then, you hear your wards calling out your name, and you realize you cannot.

You say nothing once you are on land.

Both Cargylls has a hand on your arm, and each of them are worriedly questioning you, "are you alrigh- what happe- what were you thinki- are you faint- my princess-"

"I need to see him," you say.

Arryk and Erryk freeze. The look at each other, not knowing what to say. Arryk offers, "my princess. I fear you cannot see Dae-"

"Not him," you look between them as you gather your skirts. It is arduous, as it is soaking wet.

Otto was on his way back from the scrolls room when hears the shout from across the hall. He tenses like a rock at the recognition of his daughter's voice.

You hadn't realized how tired you were until you saw him. Your knees immediately buckle and you fall to the floor as you call out, "papa!"

The Lord Hand dashes to you, dropping the scrolls he had along the way. He gets on his knees and picks you up. He is aghast by your dripping state, and his anger is soon turned on your incompetent guards, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY GIRL?"

"Papa," you mutter once you are in his arms.

Otto cradles you, looking down at your sorry form. A deep line is between his brows.

"He left me," you whisper, tears wetting your already wet cheeks.

Daemon. Lord Hightower clenches his jaw. It's always fucking him. "Come, my girl," he mutters, trying to bring you to your feet, "let's get you-"

Your voice is soft, yet it still cuts him off, "you must not leave me."

Otto is frozen. Arryk and Erryk are frozen too.

"If you leave me too, I do not think I will survive."

[bluem1lls]

HEAR ME OUT!!!! se-mi with comphet reader (angst) 😈😈😈

✧₊⁺ you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

se-mi x fem!reader

✦ synopsis: you're so used to this perfect life. your career and your boyfriend. and it's miserable but is comfortable as it can be. until you met her, and now you'll have to spend the rest of your life waking up to be nothing more than his girlfriend, thinking about her saying "i told you so".

content: angst, comphet! reader, se-mi falls for thano's 'straight' girlfriend

authors note: thank you for the request! clearly inspired by good luck babe by chappell roan because i love to suffer jsjdfkfkj, i hope you like it! im sorry ive been posting more short stuff, the week is vvv rough on me with work but ill do everything i can to not stop posting! even if its a small work

✧₊⁺ your boyfriend was acting weird. i mean, he's a man. the first thing that came to mind was 'he's cheating'

✧₊⁺ if the bastard was cheating you would kill him. it was enough that he used both of your savings to place them in bitcoin, and of course.. lost it all.

✧₊⁺ and you forgave him about that (kinda) but cheating? yeah no. you didn't wanted to be like one of those actresses with a cheating boyfriend everyone knew about.

✧₊⁺ so when you decided to follow him a random night and a man invited you to play a game, you were all against it.

✧₊⁺ you were a prestigious actress for god's sakes.

✧₊⁺ "oh. i thought you wanted to know where your boyfriend was heading?"

your eyes widen. what was this? some hooker shit? a betting house?

fine. you needed to find out where he is.

✧₊⁺ of course you ended joining the game to see where your boyfriend was. you dumbass.

✧₊⁺ waking up in a room full of strangers, was sure an.. experience.

✧₊⁺ confused, you stood up. where was your stupid boyfriend and why was he here?

✧₊⁺ "thanos?" i called him, scared. "baby?"

✧₊⁺ as you saw a group of people gathering around a very familiar voice, your fear turned into anger. you ran, pushing everyone sorrounding him.

✧₊⁺ "are you kidding me? this is where you got in? you fucking idiot" i hit his arm as he stared wide eyed at me.

"b-baby what are you doing here?" he chuckled nervous. "you should go home, this is not safe-"

"i wish! but you know, i was following you thinking you were cheating but what the fuck is this? did you lost more money? why are you here-"

"well, i came to win back the money we lost, dont worry baby. when i win this we'll be free!"

i can't believe this.

✧₊⁺ as you turned around to fumble alone, a girl touched your shoulder.

"oh my god, you're the actress on my favorite tv show! can i get a picture"

oh god. here too?

with the best fake smile, you nodded, and suddenly, the same crowd that was sorrounding thanos was now admiring you.

✧₊⁺ there was no doubt that after the first game you wanted to kill him.

"we die!? you brought us to a place where we fucking die if we dont pass the games!?" i screamed at him

"chill baby... youre making a scene. remember that people are watching"

"well, who cares? theyre probably going to die in like two days! just like us you idiot"

✧₊⁺ but just like that you kept playing with your... lovely boyfriend. and his new best friend apparently. god you needed a girl in here. you missed your girlfriends.

so indeed, your boyfriend got you a girl.

✧₊⁺ "i got you a friend so you can stop being... so angry all the time. enjoy life babe, this is a one time experience"

the second game was about to start, we needed two people more in our group.

i was about to punch him as i looked at her.

oh.

✧₊⁺ "hi..i'm-" hello? why was my brain shutting down?

"i know. i think everyone here knows apparently" she plays with her piercing lip, smiling.

✧₊⁺ that made you so nervous???? she got you smiling and twirling your hair??

oh you haven't felt like this in.. so long.

✧₊⁺ so yeah, with every game and her being the only girl (besides you) in the group, you two got close.

like.. way too close.

✧₊⁺ holding hands, protecting eachother, laughing together. you spent more time with her than with your own boyfriend.

✧₊⁺ in your defense, every single minute with her felt... like something you never experienced with him.

✧₊⁺ "why are you still with thanos if you think he's stupid?" she said, rolling her eyes and manspreading besides me, while i kept complaining about my boyfriend.

"he's nice.. he really is"

"you hate him, i dont think is normal to hate your boyfriend you know?"

✧₊⁺ you knew. but what else can you do?

you told her. she knew all abouth how your parents raise you to be this perfect actress, with her perfect husband.

and you already let them down with the 'perfect husband'. you can't disappoint them again.

✧₊⁺ so when her touch made you sigh, when she caressed your hair as you stared into her eyes, when she held your hand to feel you close in every game, trying to protect you more than your boyfriend ever did, or when she whispered sweet nothing's to your ear, making you shiver, all you could do was ignore it.

✧₊⁺ of course, when she realized that it was stupid and you weren't actually going to leave your boyfriend and your perfect life for her, she gave up, looking for something (or someone) that could make her feel better.

✧₊⁺ please, she was hot. she didn't need you.

✧₊⁺ she would never admit that in every girl she kissed after that, she was picturing you.

the way she would be biting your soft pouty lips, how she'd show you your boyfriend was nothing against her. she'd kiss you until you were out of breath, her hands roaming through your body, grabbing your waist, your hips.

she bit her lip as she kept picturing your hands wrapped around her neck, going down her back up and down.

✧₊⁺ she was so down bad it was making her stupid.

she had to do something about this stupid.. crush.

✧₊⁺ so was it a surprise when you found her making out with a random girl in the bathroom? not really.

but was it a surprise when she stared right to your eyes while she did it? i mean.. a little.

✧₊⁺ you scoffed, washing your hands.

"that's disgusting. there are bathroom stalls for that" i said to both.

as the girl turned around, se-mi asked her to leave, saying that 'she'd take care of her later'. ew.

✧₊⁺ she turned around, pissed. yeah, maybe you can get in her head for hours and hours, but ruining her makeout session? you were out of limit.

✧₊⁺ "listen princess-"

"don't call me princess after you made out with a random " i mumble, bitter. "and don't scream at me pretending like you hate me"

her eyes filled with anger.

"listen to me, you can fake being this perfect actress with your boyfriend and everyone else" she said, pushing me against the wall, one of her arms on top of my head, trapping me there. "but not with me. you think i dont see your little lustful eyes? the way you stare at me how i bet you never stared at your boyfriend?"

"b-bullsh-"

"yeah. whatever" she scoffed. "lie to yourself if you want, go fuck the entire common room to prove yourself that you're this pretty straight princess that your parents want you to be, but don't play with me" with every word she said, she got closer to me. our heated bodies breathing almost in sync.

"tell me im lying princess. tell me that if i" she grabbed my chin, softly caressing her lips with mine. my body shivering as my hand grabs her bicep, my nails clawing there, leaving 'c' marks, to ground myself. "do this, you dont feel a thing. c'mon. stop me, pretty girl. tell me you shouldn't" she whispered against my mouth.

✧₊⁺ but the truth is that you couldn't move. you couldn't back away, but you couldn't do this to thanos, to your parents. it wasn't fair.

dad? he had all the contacts he wanted. he would destroy your career in seconds. mom? would never let you step your own house again. oh and your boyfriend? would clearly ruin you on the internet. probably leaking everything about you in seconds. your own fans? people are not as open as we expect them to be.

you can't do this. you can't let yourself have this.

✧₊⁺ "im sorry se-mi" a tear fell, almost wetting her face too because of how close we were.

her eyes shut close. she mumbled something under her breath as she quickly stepped away, breaking whatever moment we had going in.

"i dont want you close to me again" she said, turning to leave as i rushed to follow.

"please, a-at least let me have you as a friend se-mi please" i begged her. tears couldn't stop falling to my cheeks.

"i can't" she said, turning to face me. her eyes roaming my features with a hint of guilt and sadness. "how can i be your friend when i'm so.." she stops, pressing her lips together. "i-i picture you in every girl i kiss. i can't be your friend.

i bit my lip as i hug her. she stiffens but slowly lets herself go, hugging me back. her hand on my hair, softly caressing it for comfort.

"if we get out of here and.. you decide that you're done being his perfect wife, and maybe you want to be happy..with me..i'll be waiting. i promise" she whispers in my ear, kissing my temple.

✧₊⁺ so it goes. after the next game, the nerves make everyone vote to leave and just like that you're actually out.

✧₊⁺ and althought you don't hear from her, you know she's still friends with your boyfriend.

and although she doesn't hear from you, she follows your life like she did. watching every episode of every single show you're in, following you on social media.

and although you guys never cross paths again, if you or your boyfriend ever invite her to 'the wedding', she will throw that invitation to the trash, where it belongs.

✧₊⁺ you miss her every night. mostly, when you wake up feeling cold against the person that's supposed to be your future. you're sure you love her.

and she misses you too. and she knows she loves you. that's why she never tries to contact you again.

✧₊⁺ because she loves watching you smile. even if its not because of her.

[fgumi]

⋆˙⟡♡ CHALANT

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!jaehyun x reader, GENRE; fluff, uni!au, headcanon, WC; 2.1k, WARNING(S); mildly suggestive, A/N; oh to be loved by chalant myung jaehyun. TAGS; @onedoornet @en-dream @heeheesang @httpenhoon @r1kification @seungheartyou, @starfallia @sugarikiz @hoondolls @prettyange1 @bee-the-loser @pumpkg @lucky-wy @leehanwish}

chalant!myungjae has never been shy about his crush on you. hell, he made it a public affair. anyone and everyone knew about it, including you. you didn’t really know what to think. this good-looking guy was openly proclaiming that he’s interested in you. it sounded like a trap, something that’d hurt you. at first, it was just words. people that knew you both would comment.

“did you know myung jaehyun likes you?” “can you tell your boyfriend to shut up about you?”

he’s not my boyfriend, you’d reply. you started feeling bad for these people at some point. here’s this guy that you knew next to nothing about and he’s talking people’s ears off about how he’s so in love with you. what is he so in love with? he’s never even talked to you. when it was people that you mutually knew, you didn’t think much of it. but then, there were strangers coming up to you.

“uh, are you y/n?” yes. “this dude, jaehyun, is like really into you. he would not stop talking about you at the party.”

so i’ve heard, you’d say. how is this guy telling everyone but you? you started getting annoyed, so annoyed that you finally confronted him. you tried to avoid when he was with his friends, not wanting to embarrass the guy further, but he was always with someone. so, one day, when you spotted him in the library, you decided that enough was enough. you marched right up to his table. what about me are you so in love with? you asked.

if anyone else said that and others overheard, they’d think you were crazy and narcissistic. but, because it was you, no one batted an eye. actually, they all leaned closer, hoping that this was the day jaehyun would finally shut up about you. jaehyun’s face went from shocked to goofy. he had this lopsided grin when he started.

“what’s there not to love? you’re insanely smart—i’ve seen the way you lead discussion sections. you’re really kind—you helped all those freshmen pass genetics even though you were clearly stressed about your stuff. you’re very particular about your drinks, but not in a rude way—i hear you apologizing to baristas about how specific your order is and then you leave a big fat tip. you love the sun. i always catch you sunbathing in the quad around 2pm after class—i swear i’m not stalking you! i just have a class in the quad. you’re funny—the side-eyes you give the people saying the dumbest things make me giggle. you—” you get it.

gosh, if only you could hide further into your hoodie. your face was bright red. all his friends were giving you exasperated looks, as if to say “please go out with him so he’ll finally shut up.” you didn’t realize you ran into him that much. you were constantly stressed, rushing to class, that people were just blurred faces to you. you barely managed to make eye contact with jaehyun and then you saw. he looked at you like you held the answer to all his prayers.

“if i take you on a date, will you stop bothering people about how you’re so in love with me?” you muttered. then, this guy has the gawl to shake his head. “absolutely not. but! i’ll shut up for a day.”

his friends nodded rapidly, begging you with their whole bodies to do it. a day was better than anything, they supposed. so, you asked him out. jaehyun’s grin couldn’t get any wider.

chalant!myungjae stayed true to his word and never shut up about you after that one (blissful) day. just like before, he talked about you with anyone that’d give him the time, even your professors. because you were in the same major, you and jaehyun had the same classes, just not the same section (much to jaehyun’s dismay). so, he’d hang back a few until you arrived so he could give you his notes.

“it’s a preview! so you don’t have to rush to catch everything.”

in those few minutes that you take to arrive, jaehyun’s talking to your professor.

“you should totally make my girlfriend, y/n, your ta! she’s always the top scorer and is helping out other people anyways!” “this is us on our second date. look at how pretty she is! i think she’s the love of my life.” “do you think you could transfer me into this section so i could be with her?” no, they’d say exhaustedly.

if your professors were at all bitter, they would’ve hated you. having to hear about you so much was tiring. but, they all appreciated love when they saw it—or, in this case, heard it. though they didn’t let it show too much, they did tend to favor you after hearing how much you enjoyed the class and helped others. you were certainly helping their ratemyprofessor scores.

chalant!myungjae was a confident person. but, he was never more confident than the times he could acceptably brag that he was your boyfriend.

you took part in dancing as an extracurricular, something that helped college be a little more bearable. because of this, you had performances and recitals. these were college events that jaehyun could finally look forward to.

he always came early just so he could grab a front seat. he was always the loudest, cheering you on whenever you were on stage. when he felt like he wasn’t loud enough, he forced his friends to come along. at one point, he made t-shirts for all of them to wear. we’re here with y/n’s boyfriend. of course, he wore his own shirt. y/n’s boyfriend on the back and the cutest (you didn’t find it all that cute) picture he had of you adorning the front. he was very very proud to be your boyfriend. and, of course, he needed to get you the world’s biggest bouquet every time. you told him that he didn’t need to get you such expensive flowers every time, but he shook his head.

“these aren’t expensive compared to what i really wanted to get you.”

later, you found out that he wanted to get you a thousand lilies of the valleys, your favorite. every time. you scolded him about it, saying how you were broke college students and couldn’t afford things like that.

to that, he said, “yet.”

chalant!myungjae didn’t care for possessing things, you included (because women aren’t possessions, he said), but, man, did he love being possessed by you. anything he could get to let people know he was yours, he’d have. his lockscreen? you. his desktop picture? you. he even had one of those photocard holders attached to his backpack with a polaroid of you. he had half the mind to get the big photocard holders, but he didn’t think you’d like that (you told him that was embarrassing). it didn’t stop at just pictures, though. he even bought himself a necklace with your last name attached. you asked him why he didn’t get your first name or even a necklace for you with his name.

“i want to take your last name! and i didn’t want to buy you something like that without your explicit permission.”

you just sighed adoringly. shouldn’t he have asked your permission for his necklace then?

chalant!myungjae wasn’t just all for show. he also did things that were less noticeable—like having a hair tie around his wrist at all times. you always managed to lose yours and were put out whenever you couldn’t put your hair up. when he saw your cute little pout, he vowed to always make sure you had a hair tie available to you whenever you were together (even if he loved your pout).

another thing he did was carry around a second hoodie—for himself, of course. sure, it made his backpack bulky, but you were worth it. there were days that you’d think the weather was going to be a mild temperature or the buildings weren’t going to blast the ac, so you’d opt out of bringing a sweater. but, when you sadly realized that it was freezing, he’d hand you his hoodie—the one that he was already wearing. you mentioned in passing how much you liked wearing his clothes, but only when they smelled like him, so he always gave you whatever he was wearing at the time and put the second hoodie on (that way you couldn’t say no with the reason that he’d be cold).

chalant!myungjae was always respectful towards women. his mother raised him right after all. there were times though when he wasn’t. like, when he’s getting hit on. you never said anything, never showed an ounce of insecurity. but, he made it his mission to get these girls away from him.

on your late-night outings, both of you dressed up. you looked good. you were bound to attract attention. but, one thing you told jaehyun from the start was that you wouldn’t subject your friends to feeling like they were with a couple when you went out. so, he let you do your thing while he did his. you guys always danced in the club near each other. that’s why you were privy to seeing him turn people away. in an odd fashion.

there were times he’d bark at them. there were times he’d act like he batted for the other team. there were times he’d point at you and show them that he was a taken man. but, the one time this girl didn’t catch the hints—the necklace, the photocard, his lockscreen, his blatant denial—everyone was in for a show.

“your girlfriend doesn’t have to know,” the girl purred, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. you see this happening out of the corner of your eye. you just said a silent prayer for her because you knew jaehyun was about to embarrass her. what you didn’t know was how.

he scoffed. “i tell her everything, even my poop schedule. she’ll know.”

the girl didn’t back off. “well, i don’t see her. she left you here all alone with me. can’t i just have you for the night?”

she’s persistent, you’ll give her that. that’s when you feel someone pull you away from your friends. you’re spun around and a kiss was planted on your lips. your eyes widened before you realized it was jaehyun. you let yourself enjoy the kiss, thinking it was going to be short. but it wasn’t. it was one of the most mind-blowing kisses jaehyun has ever given you. if you were sobering up, jaehyun’s kiss pulled you right back into a haze. he cradled your neck, kissing you deeper, as his other hand pulled you closer. even when the girl finally got the hint and left, he didn’t let you go. if anything, he seemed to take it as his cue to continue. when you heard your friends cheering you on, you let this be the exception to your one rule. when you finally pulled away for air, a string of saliva followed you. you just blinked at him while he had this goofy grin on his face.

“sorry, i had to show her who my girlfriend was.”

safe to say, he didn’t let you go for the rest of the night and you didn’t mind one bit.

chalant!myungjae didn’t really post on his social media. sure, he was active on it, liking his friends’ posts and yours (obviously). he became really active on it once you started dating. jaehyun skipped the soft launch and went straight into the hard launch. every story he posted, his friends could bet that it was going to be you with some corny caption about how much he loved you or how lucky he was. when he did post, they’d just be photo dumps from moments with you. at this point, his account became a y/n fan account. if anyone were to stalk him, trying to see if he was taken or not, they’d know immediately. in his bio, he had your user. his pinned post was your first anniversary date, where you looked absolutely stunning. his profile picture? it was the two of you.

oh, and was he in your comments.

first! i would’ve built rome in a day for you had to pick my jaw off the ground i won’t you. bad. i’m framing this something’s wet and i move my phone to my left hand…

ya... he was getting creative with his comments.

chalant!myungjae makes sure that you know, and the world knows, how much he loves you. he’ll never a single doubt enter your mind about how he feels about you. you are his girl and he is very much your boy.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too!

[artslovergirl]

Stanford!art as a secret admirer pleaaaaase

hiii! sorry this took me literally a month to finish i am still not very good at keeping a drabble a drabble and this one really got away from me but i promise in the future that hopefully wont be the case....anywhoo! enjoy! (ty for being my first request ever!) also shoutout to diya for helping me a bit with characterizing art having a crush on someone! mwah!

admittedly, art felt like a creep. not enough to stop sneaking glances at you across the lecture hall but definitely enough to feel hot shame crawl up his neck whenever you would accidentally meet his eye contact.

he quickly glanced away and stared back at the blackboard, trying to pretend that's what he had been looking at all along.

he began fiddling with his pen, pushing the plastic end of it nervously against his lips. he could feel your eyes on him for a few moments longer before turning back around to face the professor.

great. now you probably actually thought he was a creep. which is not exactly how he planned your first form of contact to go.

...alright, to be fair, he never had an exact plan in the first place? but "make awkward eye contact" wouldn't have been a part of it. that's for sure.

he was a little out of his element here. stanford was a hell of a lot bigger than mark rebellato was.

back there, most of the girls knew him, sometimes even liked him already or he had patrick as his wingman. (or when it came to tashi, competition.) but here? he felt so unsure all of a sudden. it felt like all of the experience he had with dating seemed completely useless.

when he first saw you, he was still pretty infatuated with tashi. but that doesnt mean he didnt notice how hot you were. as more time passed the more he realized that tashi and patrick were apprently locked in (go figure the dude finally learns commitment just in time. read bitterness.) and the more he saw you, the more he heard you talk in class, the more he saw you laugh with your friends, the more you wouldnt leave his mind. not to mention how fucking smart you were. well, are.

the lecture ended and as always you were one of the first people out the door. you were always in a rush. or maybe you just had another class all the way on the other side of campus?

he wondered what your major was. he wondered if you knew he played tennis. he wondered if it would even impress you if you found out. he hoped it would.

---

art was sitting in the cafeteria stabbing his fork into his salad that consisted of like 70% veggies and 30% eggs.

he had to say, he was definitely getting sick of eggs at this point. he took a small sip of his gatorade.

usually, he drank blue, but he decided to try red today. maybe because it was patrick's favorite flavor or maybe because he needed at least a little change in routine.

unfortunately, as he went to place the bottle back down on the table, he almost knocked it over as soon as he suddenly noticed you standing by the vending machine. and then turning around. and.. walking towards him? holy shit.

at first, he thought you would just walk past him, but you stopped at his table. he didn't know if he believed in god, but at that moment, he certainly felt like a favorite.

"hey," you smiled politely, "sorry to bother you, but do you happen to have a quarter? that thing doesn't seem to take nickles." you nodded your head towards the vending machine at the entrance of the cafeteria.

"uh." his brain tried to play catch up. "um, yeah, let me check." he let out a small chuckle so he wouldn't sound so nervous, but it sounded more like he was wheezing. he pulled out his wallet, ripped apart the velcro, and checked. he silently celebrated when he noticed he did, in fact, have a few quarters. "yeah, how many do you need?" he looked up at you. his cheeks felt hot.

"oh, just one is fine." he nods, and suddenly, in front of your presence, it seems a lot harder to properly grab the quarter from his wallet. he does manage, though, and as he hands it to you, he feels your fingers brush against his palm.

as if transferred from your fingertips to his palm it felt like a surge went through his body, traveling through his arteries and sparking at the tips of his fingers and toes. you hand him your nickels in exchange. before you could turn to leave, he quickly interjected, "we're in the same class, right? english literature?"

he didnt know where he was going with this, he just wanted to keep talking to you.

your eyes flashed with recognition.

"oh, yeah! art, right? you sit behind me?" you knew his name. "yeah, yeah, that's right." he nodded, his fingers drummed against the table. there was a short lull in the conversation as he desperately tried to grasp for anything to talk about that wouldn't seem like he was hitting on you (even though he kind of was.)

"so, uh, this is actually good timing because i've been sorta meaning to talk to you anyway?" his lips pulled into a familiar charming lopsided smile.

"oh, really?" you tilted your head. "yeah." he nodded, his hand going to fidget with curls on the back of his neck that stuck out of his backwards cap.

"i, uh, need some help with some of the material, and, you know, you're so good-"

"oh, i'm not that-"

"nah, c'mon no need to be modest," there's that grin again, "i don't think i've ever seen you get a question wrong."

you huff, feeling embarrassed at the unexpected praise, "well, it's literature, so it's all interpretation, it's hard to be outright wrong."

"see, that answer just confirms it." he says.

you chuckle, finally giving in and accepting the compliment. "so..you want my help then?" he nods. he really prayed you would say yes because this was really his only plan on how to get to know you.

you mulled over it for a few seconds. then you nodded. "yeah, okay, let me give you my number and we can figure out the details later. i got another class in like-" you glanced back at the clock, "shit, 3 minutes."

you hastily ripped a piece of paper out of your notebook scribbled a number on it and left it on the table. "oh, and thanks for the quarter!" you yelled back (even though you didn't even get to use it) before booking it out of the cafeteria. guess he was right about you always being in a rush.

---

4:58 pm. 2 more minutes till you'd knock at his door. art did another once over of his room. now he wasn't exactly a messy guy but he had to admit his dorm had never been this clean before. actually maybe it was too clean...would you think that was weird? like would you think he was a neatfreak? girls probably weren't into that.

he began messing up his bedsheets just a little so it wouldnt look like he had just spent the past three hours obsessively cleaning every inch of his dorm. even though thats exactly what he did.

it was a pretty small room but you'd be surprised how long it can take to clean if you're doing a real deep clean. not to mention the pain in the ass that doing laundry in college was.

he did all of this because, keeping true to your word, you did make plans with him to help him out with some of the reading.

you : does 5pm on saturday work 4 u?? :-)

art : Yeah, I'm totally free!!

(in hindsight the two exclamation points were probably a bit much.)

just as he was about to check out his hair for the 5th time today, there was a knock on the door. he glanced at the little digital watch on his wrist. 5pm sharp. wow, you were punctual. was it weird that he found that hot?

art quickly brushes a few unruly curls that were sticking out of his backwards cap away with his fingers before moving to open the door.

---

"so, what's the exact stuff you're having trouble with?" you peered at him from his bed, which you were sitting on, which he was being very cool about.

you had asked him if it was okay to sit there after you had exchanged a few pleasantries and then chatted for about 10 minutes.

it was mostly about class at first, then turned into more personal topics. you asked him if he was on the tennis team, because of all the..well..tennis gear in his room.

he nodded and told you about his tennis scholarship. you chuckled and said you had never really watched any matches at stanford so far, but you'd like to see him play.

he really tried to not seem overly enthusiastic about that but he did tell you the exact time and date of his next match.

apparently, you thought the sport seemed "really impressive". ( i.e. you were impressed. i.e. you were impressed by him playing tennis. or that's at least how he heard it.)

then, after he found out you were an english major, which wasn't a surprise, you finally brought up the topic of studying.

he spun in his desk chair, to face you.

"just some of this..interpretive stuff...i feel like i never know what the professor wants to hear from me." he tapped the end of his pen against the book he was holding. "well.." you shifted into a cross-legged postion, you were wearing shorts and he was trying really hard not to stare at your legs.

"you probably shouldnt be thinking about that in the first place, you know, what the professor wants to hear? you should think about what you actually got from the book." he knew this was pretty standard advice but when you said it, it sounded like the most intelligent, world-changing thing he'd ever heard.

"riiight...what if i didnt get anything from it?" he smiled sheepishly, leaning his head on his hand. you scrunched up your nose and playfully rolled your eyes, "oh, come on, how can you read classic literature and not get anything from it? i don't believe that."

you scooted forward a little. a little closer to him. a nervous chuckle left his lips, his gaze swept back and forth between you and the book before settling on you.

truth be told, he was doing fine, at least grade-wise, and even if he wasn't, it wasn't like he was striving to become an english professor, he mostly decided to take this class on a whim. but the part about struggling with interpretations was true, it just maybe wasn't necessarily a dire enough situation to require your help...

"well, maybe youre not asking yourself the right questions before you read." you hummed, gently tapping your finger against your leg. "can i see your notes?"

art panicked a bit at that. he wasn't sure why, but suddenly someone looking at his notes felt oddly intimate. you would be able to read the bits and parts of the book he regarded as important enough to jot down. what he liked. what he didn't like. perhaps it was a little intimate.

he tried to play it casual, though, and nodded as he handed you his english lit folder. his nerves only got worse the longer you took to read through them.

then suddenly, you smiled and nodded a little bit before looking up at him again. he prayed that you couldn't see the way his heart was trying to escape his ribcage right now.

"you know, you couldve just asked me out."

before his brain could even process that sentence, his mouth seemed to go into immediate action to splutter out some kind of denial in order to salvage this, "what? i- no, no, that's not- i mean, seriously why would-"

"i mean, i wouldn't have said no. like you didn't have to pretend to need my help. you clearly don't need it-" you gently tossed his folder back onto the desk. "-plus you're cute."

he didn't move for a good few seconds until he finally caught up to what had just happened.

now, this would've been the moment where he would've liked to be really cool and smooth in his response, but instead what happened was: "um..so then are we..like are you.."

in his defense you kind of caught him off guard. like completely. he had had a plan. how the study sessions would transition into friendship, and then maybe, hopefully at some point would transition into dating. he was a patient guy, really, and you had just skipped like...everything.

"are you free tomorrow?" you asked, as you stood up to grab your bag. wow, you were really taking the wheel at this point. and he discovered that he had shockingly little problem with that.

"uh, yeah, yeah i'm free..like all day." he did have training in the morning but he truly would skip it just this once if it came down to it.

"2pm?"

"sure."

"i'll text you?"

"okay."

"so..it's a date?"

you had stood up from the bed and were suddenly already on your way out. probably because you could tell he needed a minute.

"yeah, a date." he nodded with a (almost lovestruck) smile he hadn't even noticed had snuck its way unto his lips. you reciprocated with an equally excited grin, "cool."

before he knew it, the door had clicked shut, and he was alone again. he felt warm.

"cool."

[clrasecretdiary]

You're just a little bit too much like me | Spencer Reid x Reader

Enemies to lovers | angsty fluff

Word count: 1755

Warnings: Normal criminal minds type of violence, mention of guns and gunshots, age gap (Reader is about 25, and Spencer is in his late 30s)

Content: Spencer being an asshole because he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings and how you remind him of his older self, past Spencer trauma (implied but not directly mentioned), self-doubt, Post prison! Spence

It was a difficult situation, only your second week on the job and the first time you had to make that kind of decision. You went alone to a location where the suspect might have been at, all of your teammates were further away so, as reckless as you now recognize it was, you went there alone, instead of waiting like Spencer and Emily asked you too. You didn't want to lose your chance, there were more than 3 days on the field at stake here, you did not want to disappoint your colleagues and just stand there waiting like a dumb newbie, so you made the decision.

“I'm going in” You warn your teammates in the radio, not waiting for a response before storming into the unsubs house.

You bust the door open with your feet, storming into the house. As you look inside, you find the unsub taking his gun from a drawer. Thinking you had an advantage as his back was facing you, you rush to try and immobilize him, but somehow he managed to turn around and shoot you.

You growled in pain as your body dropped to the ground, just before you passed out completely you heard the sound of rushed footsteps. You heard two voices, one you recognized as Emily's going after the unsub, and the other as Reid's talking to you.

“Please don’t go to sleep, we need you awake” His voice was soothing, far different from the tone he always used with you ever since you joined the team this year, but he sounded so worried, and you really did try to stay awake for him, for your team, to show that you were okay and that they needed to go after what's important, the unsub, but you couldn't. The last thing you heard as your vision got black was him yelling at his radio, “Medical, we need medical right now”. And then, everything went black.

You are now back at your first day on the job. Still at your house, confused as to what outfit you should use, so anxious about being so young at the top team of profilers, even thought it was a last year internship you hoped to impress them enough that they would hire you officially for the team, so your anxiety was through the roof wondering whether you really deserved to be there (goddamn that impostor syndrome). But most of your worries went away when you met the team, you would never imagine that the best profilers in the FBI and maybe in the world would be such good, kind and even funny people. They all welcomed you, seeming excited to be able to work with you, except from one of them.

Doctor Spencer Reid, you had read about him and his genius mind, you even went to a couple of his lectures on forensic psychology, honestly? You were a fan, and you were so excited to meet and work with someone you looked up to. Unfortunately, he didn't seem as eager to meet his new coworker. He just stood there in the back, staring at you while you introduced yourself to the team, the most he did was mutter a “morning” when you sat next to him in the briefing room.

Never meet your heroes, they say.

Now, you're back at… Where are you again?

Your eyes begin to open, you're completely adrift until you finally begin to recognize the awful white light, and the coldness of the room. You're at the hospital, no idea as to how much time has passed.

Jennifer comes into your line of vision, holding your hand, “Hey, how are you feeling?” her voice is calm, as she watches you sit up in the hospital bed.

“I'm fine, I think... I didn't even realize what happened back then. Oh shit, did you guys catch him?” You abruptly try to sit up, remembering how you couldn't get the unsub when you got shot, guilt washing over you as you started to piece together what happened

“Hey slow down, Emily went after him and made the arrest, the victim was rescued. He shot you, but it just grazed you. You did lose a lot of blood, that's why you passed out, but the doctors say you'll be fine to leave today. Don't worry.” She says as the doctor comes in to do his final checking.

You just agree with your head, lost in your own thoughts. You knew it wasn't your fault that you got shot, but still you felt so stupid. The hurt of not being able to catch the unsub might've been even bigger than the one from your wound, all of them had been in even more difficult situations than you and made it out without so much as a scratch, and you couldn't even catch an unsub that was alone?

After a few hours, you were back on the jet, finally heading home. The guilty was still bothering you, and you even apologized for the mistake. Hotch just asked you to be more careful and follow instructions next time, but overall, the team seemed genuinely happy you were fine. Except, of course, for Spencer, who ever since you got in the jet was staring daggers at you.

Later, the jet finally landed, and you were eager to get home. You quickly went to the office to get a few of your things, Unfortunately, you and Spencer were now all alone in an uncomfortable silence waiting for the elevator.

“That was reckless” Spencer mutters under his breath

“I'm sorry, what?” You turn in your heels to face him, had you heard that right? Is that the first thing he's going to tell you after you just got shot?

“What you did on the case, was reckless and naive. You should've followed our instructions, you can't just do what you feel like doing” he's looking in your eye now, his voice coming out angry but with a hint of… worry?

“I'm sorry ok? I tried to do something, I just did not want to just stay there waiting while he could be doing god knows what inside that house” Your voice comes out more shaky than you wanted it to, the weight of the guilt pressing into your chest

“Still, it was reckless and stupid, you should never just storm into, alone, a place where an unsub might be, you never know what he might do to you, what might be waiting inside.” His gaze is cold, almost as if he's not actually here talking to you, but somewhere inside his head and his memories.

“Trust me, I know that. I regret my decision, but I wasn't doing what I felt like, I tried my best, Reid.” You turn to look directly in his eye. Yes you did something wrong, but you wouldn't let him out of all people talk like that to you “I might be the youngest on the team, the one with less experience but trust me… I'm not dumb, I earned my place here.” Your voice shaky when you said that last sentence, the insecurity you felt showing through your words.

Something in his gaze shifted after that, his expression became softer, almost sympathetic. “Listen, I'm not saying you're not qualified, I'm sorry if it came off like that, just be careful… That could have ended a lot worse, trust me I know”

“ I will” The air between you two less intimidating now but still heavy with tension, you two step in the elevator, the whole way to the garage an awkward silence until you two finally reach the bullpen's garage.  

Even thought you felt like now maybe he didn't absolutely want you gone from the team, you were still curious as to why he is so cold to you

“Sorry, I need to ask… Why do you hate me?” You turn to him, after finally gathering the courage to ask this question

“What do you mean, don't hate you”

“Yes you do, I mean you're not obligated to like me but since I joined, you didn't even meet me yet and just gave this cold look”

His eyebrows furrowed as he processed your words, clearly taken aback by your directness. He sighed, a hint of regret in his eyes, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's not about you personally," he finally admitted, his voice softer than before.

“What is it about, then?”

He takes a deep breath before starting to talk “You're only 3 years older than me when I joined this team, I know what it does you, to your mind. I guess I just saw way too much of me, of who I used to be, in you, and it terrified me to be honest” His cold facade disappeared completely now, in its place a soft and genuine expression.

“So you were, and I'm sorry for the words, an asshole to me because you were worried?” You almost can't wrap your head around it, all this time you felt like one of your biggest references in the BAU hated you, but instead he was caring for you.

“Yes, I see how it comes out as “asshole” behavior, but my brain just went full shutdown when i saw you” His face turns slightly red when he notices what he just said – Freudian slip or just a bad choice of words? He doesn't's know for sure – His hand goes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck “I mean… for the resemblance, of how I acted when I had just joined, of course”

You give him a small smile, and just like that your side that has been a fan and read all of this man's articles comes back to life “Of course. Thank you for worrying but maybe instead of hating me you could… I don't know, if it's not too much of a bother of course, help me? I value your worries Doc, maybe you could help me not make the same mistakes you did”

He nodded, a hint of relief washing over his features. "I'd be happy to help," he said, a genuine smile finally breaking through. "I might not have all the answers, but I can definitely share what I've learned along the way."

“I'm happy to hear that, thanks, Doc. Reid” You wave at him as you begin walking over to your car.

“Hey, just call me Spencer” He smiles warmly at you

“See you tomorrow Spencer”

[angstywaifu]

Not Enough - Liam Mairi

Request: Would you maybe do a soft smut slash angst with liam where reader gets hurt in a challenge and storms off belittling herself and getting so down because her parents would have expected more from her and it all comes to a head when liam runs after her and she blows up on him screaming about how stupid she is and how she isn't enough and liam like shuts her up by kissing her and showing her that she is enough and how amazing she is - @elliot-rain

Masterlist | Support Me

The impact of landing on the mat runs through me as I lie there stunned, the pain in my leg barely noticeable. Shit. They were going to be disappointed me if they found out I got hurt and lost. I could already hear the lecture in my head.

”How could you lose?”

”You could do so much better.”

”You have a family name and reputation to uphold.”

I push myself up as best I can, ignoring the hand my opponent holds out to me. I couldn’t show weakness. I needed to be strong, even as my leg screamed at me to take the help. I limp off the mat, the crowd of riders parting to let me through.

”You ok?” Violet asks as I pass her.

I stop and turn to look at her, doing my best to hide my grimace. “Yeah, just going to go rest for a bit. I’ll be good.”

She purses her lips, but eventually nods at me. She clearly sees through me. She always does when one of us gets hurt. She knows what pain is like better than any of us, so it’s hard to hide from her when we are in pain. Before she can stop me, I turn around and do my best to walk out of the room. Now my challenge was done, I didn’t technically need to stay, meaning I had at least an hour till my next class. An hour to think over my mistakes, to explain them to my parents once they found out and no doubt demanded to see me somehow. For any other rider, losing on the mat would just be a bad day or their opponent just being better than them. But that wasn’t an option for me. My entire life I was taught to be perfect. No mistakes, no errors. Mistakes were punished, a lesson that they were not to be made again. I had a legacy to uphold.

I’m too lost in my thoughts to hear the rushed footsteps behind me until movement out of the corner of my eye startles me, causing me to jump and aggravate my leg, a pained hiss escaping my lips through gritted teeth.

”Shit, what happened?” Liam asks hurriedly as his eyes scan over me, his hands resting on my arms as he steadies me.

”A mistake, that's what happened.” I say as I avert my eyes from his.

I see him furrow his brow out of the corner of my eye, clearly confused at my words. “Mistake? Things happen all the time in challenges. It was nothing. You’ll come back better and stronger next week.”

I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut as tears threaten to break free as my emotions bubble over the edge. “To me it’s not nothing” I mutter out, part of me hoping he doesn’t hear, but I know he does.

”It is nothing Y/N. No one in there is going to care you lost a challenge. It happens.” He almost pleads to me, and I know if I open my eyes his blue eyes will be soft and caring.

”It’s not the people in there I’m worried about.” I say as I open my eyes, a tear rolling down one of my cheeks.

Liam reaches out to wipe it away, but I knock his hand away before limping over to one of the few cut outs in the wall, looking out into the empty Rotunda.

”I come from a family where I have certain expectations to meet. An image to live up to. Nothing but the best is tolerated. Anything less than perfect is….”

”Is what?” Liam's voice soft but demanding from behind me.

”Punished.” I say as I look at him over my shoulder, watching the colour from his face drain. “Anything less than perfect, than one hundred percent isn’t tolerated.”

”You’re safe here, they can’t pun-”

”Yes they can!” I yell as I turn on Liam, wincing as my leg protests at the sudden movement. “I am not safe behind these walls. They provide no protection from what they will do if they find out how stupid I was to let myself lose! They provide no protection from being told I am not good enough. That if anything I do is less than perfect will never be enough. I’m not en-”

Liam’s lips crash against mine, cutting off my frantic words. The heat of his kiss swallows the air from my lungs, silencing every self-deprecating thought spiralling in my mind. For a moment, I’m too stunned to move, too caught off guard to process what’s happening. But then the warmth of his hands, one cupping my cheek and the other steadying my trembling arm, grounds me.

The world falls away—the walls, the fear, the doubts—all of it fades into the background. All I can focus on is him: the way his touch feels steady, the way his kiss feels like a promise, fierce yet tender, as if he’s trying to piece me back together with every brush of his lips.

When he pulls back, his forehead presses against mine, and his breath fans across my face. His hands don’t leave me; instead, they grip tighter, as if afraid I’ll shatter the moment he lets go.

“You’re enough,” he says softly, his voice rough but resolute. “You’ve always been enough. Stop doubting yourself, because I won’t let you tear yourself apart anymore.”

I blink up at him, my chest heaving from more than just the kiss. “Liam, I—”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice firm now. “Listen to me. You are stronger than you think. You’ve faced so much, and you’re still standing. You are more than good enough, and no one—no one—gets to make you feel otherwise. Not even you.”

Tears sting my eyes, but for once, they’re not from pain or frustration. They’re from the raw, unrelenting belief in his voice, in his gaze as he looks at me like I’m worth fighting for.

“I’m scared,” I whisper, my voice breaking.

“I know,” he says, his thumb brushing a stray tear from my cheek. “But you don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Something inside me shifts, loosens, as his words sink in. For the first time in what feels like forever, the weight pressing on my chest lightens, just a little. And for now, that’s enough.

[thevampireladyambrosia]

The Professor's Pet

Request via anon.

Pairing: Male!Kitsune x Female!Reader.

Content Warning: Power dynamics (professor x student), manipulation, age gap, knots.

You have always been a good student. At least at this university. A school involving magic was the dream. As a human, however, you struggled a bit. Especially with charms. In fact, you frequently explode them by pouring too much energy in. You can't help it. You are just so excited. Thus, you fell behind in class.

The professor, an older kitsune with all nine tails, noticed this. He had been trying to help you as much as he could, but he could only do so much. So you quickly began to fail the class.

This caused you to panic. You could only go to this place because you got a full ride scholarship. A scholarship that requires a certain GPA to keep.

So you doubled down. You tried harder. You stayed up later. Only for things to become more of a disaster. Your anxious energy explodes charms more easily. Your sleep deprivation led to you making mistakes you normally wouldn't.

It was very late one night that you decided you'd approach the professor the next day. You knew his office hours from the beginning of the year; from when he had gone over the syllabus. Maybe you could ask for an extra credit essay? Something. Anything. You had to pass this class.

The next day goes slowly. It's like the universe knew you had something that needed done, so it slowed down time. You found yourself glancing at the clock every couple minutes. You were an anxious mess. The professor seemed nice enough. But would he help you?

When the time came for you to approach his office you somehow grew more anxious. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced your feet to move. You entered his office.

He looked up and smiled. He greeted you and gestured for you to take a seat.

“I'm assuming you're here about your grade?” He stated. He said it casually and in a nonchalant way. But it was anything but that to you. It determined the rest of your life. Failing would mean not being able to continue at this school. It would mean everything had been for nothing.

“Um… yeah.” You replied. You mentally kicked yourself. You wanted to say more, but it would come out. Like your mouth was too dry, and your lips were sewn shut.

“I went ahead and took a look at your assignments. It appears you weren't absent for much. Rather, it became apparent that you had a knack for exploding things throughout the year. As you likely know, I could have done something if you had excused absences. I could have let you make up the work for partial credit. Simply failing is different, though. If I let you redo it, you'd gain an unfair advantage over your classmates.”

You sucked in a breath. There it was. What you had feared all along. Your face fell. You were really going to fail the class.

“But…” You immediately snapped back into attention. There was a glimmer of hope in that simple word. “I do reward effort. And you, my dear student, have put in effort. Tell me, how far are you willing to go to secure your grade?”

You blinked. Did he want you to clean the classroom? Write a huge report? Do a presentation?

“I'd do anything. Anything at all.” You said confidently.

“That's a bold statement.” The kitsune said. But you didn't miss the glimmer in his eye. The same one people have when they get something they want. When they succeed at something. Satisfaction.

“It's the truth,” you replied. And it was. At this point in time, you'd do just about anything to secure your grade. Aside from doing something that harmed others.

“How about I give you a bonus assignment? One worth a good chunk of points. It would be distributed and added onto your other grades. But you'd have to keep it a secret. And I'd want something in return.”

You couldn't believe your ears. A chance to pass. You'd have to be positively insane to say no. But what did he want in return?

“I'll do it. Whatever it is, I'll do it. And I won't tell a soul.” You couldn't believe your own mouth. This was basically cheating. This would make you a fraud. The kitsune seemed to recognize where your mind was heading. And he acknowledged it in his next statement.

“It's not cheating. I'm a professor. I would know. The greatest minds weren't just people who were good at things. They were people who were passionate about things. You, my dear, have passion. You have drive. You have perseverance. Is it really cheating? Or are you just getting acknowledged for your work?”

You felt strange. He had praised you. Maybe he was right? I mean, you did work hard.

“But, even more amazing, is the fact you know how to work the system.” You looked at him. What was he talking about? “Wearing that short skirt you know would drive men crazy.”

Your eyes widen. You open your mouth to protest, to explain, but his hand slips under your skirt. It catches you so off guard that you don't even get a word out. Luckily, he only rubs your thigh before withdrawing his hand.

“I-” He cuts you off.

“You said anything, remember?” He's smiling at you. “What I want is simple. I want you to let me stuff your pretty little cunt with my cock. Just this once. After all, that's what you offered when you said anything, yes?”

He had a point. You did say anything. And maybe one time was worth it for a good grade?

“Okay. I consent. Just this once.” The professor didn't hesitate. You could barely process anything before you were bent over his desk. Your underwear were pushed aside as he roughly shoved a finger in. It stung slightly but quickly faded as your cunt lubricated itself.

It would help if you didn't enjoy it. If your cunt wasn't sending waves of pleasure into your brain, making it short circuit. When his thumb found your clit and a second finger joined, you moaned. It was loud and filthy. It made you feel disgusted with yourself.

He fingered you until you came around onto his hand hard. It was the most intense orgasm of your life. And it was given to you by your professor. Your way older professor. But you didn't care anymore.

He made you beg for his cock. Made you plead. And you did. He didn't even bother to undress you nor himself. He just pulled his growing erection out and kept your underwear pushed aside. He shoved into you in one swift motion that made you cry out and see stars.

He fucked you rough and hard, his pace unforgiving. And when you came, you gushed around his cock. If you thought the orgasm earlier was intense, this one was unreal. You became practically boneless. Your vision went white. You could have sworn you passed out for a brief moment.

And then he came. Buried deep in your cunt. You felt the warmth of his seed fill you. And something strange happened too. It was like he got bigger. Like his penis expanded, locking him in. You had expected him to pull out. You had assumed incorrectly.

It wasn't even a minute after his penis went back to normal that he fixed your clothes and ushered you out. Something about office hours being over.

You walked back to your dorm on wobbly legs, your professor's cum dripping down your thighs. You pressed them together to hide it as much as possible.

When you arrived back, you showered and went to bed. A few days later you had a B in his class.

[juyeoz]

˙ㅤ۪ 𓂋⠀FOR THE PLOT — AN 02z SMAU

003 ┆ chronicles of narnia 2 (0.6k words)

The Juniors game was fun. It was sad that they had lost, but at least they were sweet. Triple ball wasn’t so bad either. It might have been since you were with Haerin and another club member, but it wasn’t as dreadful as you thought it’d be.

However, that was before you saw the senior’s walk in. They were quiet and quite scary. You glanced over at Haerin who adjusted the blue cloth in her pocket and made her way to the scorekeepers. 

The match wouldn’t start for another 10 minutes, so you had a lot of time to kill.

“(Last Name)!” A voice called, causing your head to whip over toward the sound. It was Sunghoon, your friend from kindergarten. He smiled at you with a wave and you returned the action. 

You jogged over towards the boy and his teammates all while being careful near Sunwoo, the boy you found scary.

“How was it?” Sunghoon asked while placing his belongings on the wall behind their team bench. 

You shrugged. “It was pretty good. Not as bad as I thought it would be.” 

“I told you.” He replied with a smile. Sunghoon pulled his practice t-shirt over his head, practically showcasing himself shirtless in front of you and many others.

“What are you trying to show off?” You asked, disgusted. 

“What are you talking about?” Sunghoon asked and threw his t-shirt over his belongings while reaching for his jersey. 

“Are you trying to impress someone in the bleachers or something?” 

“I’m just changing.” He said and slipped his jersey over his head. 

“Really? It’s almost as if I couldn’t tell.” You joked, causing Sunghoon to smile. 

“Also, can you chest-pass the volleyball to me instead of rolling it? It helps me with my serves.” He questioned as you nodded. Whatever that meant, at least.

The boy began to wrap his fingers, satisfied upon hearing you agree with his request while you looked around in hopes that your friends were sitting in the bleachers as they said they would.

Three hands went up in a waving motion, catching your attention immediately. It was them. Your eyes brightened at the sight as you made your way closer to the bleachers while waving back at them.

“(Name)!” Karina called from above you as you smiled back at them. 

“Hi!” You cheered, earning more smiles from the four. 

“Here, wait, BeReal moment!” Karina said while holding out her phone as you and the four posed at the same time.

The four held up hand signs or did a silly face while you held up a peace sign and looked up at them. 

“She’s so small.” Nayeon said with a slight laugh while looking at the screen of her phone.

“What are you looking at?” A voice called from behind where she sat in class, causing Nayeon to flinch and almost drop her phone.

“You need to stop doing that! I’m just looking at a BeReal my friend sent me, look,” Nayeon said while showing the culprit—Jake—her phone screen. 

“Is that (Name)?” Jake asked, squinting his eyes to get a better look at the girl alone.

“Who?” Nayeon asked, confused.

“The girl who’s standing alone.” He explained and pointed at her.

“I’m not sure, I don’t know who that is.” She replied, still confused than ever. 

“How do you know her?”

“We were friends from second grade to fifth grade, but quarantine happened and we kind of drifted apart since I moved as well. We would email and text here and there, yet it wasn’t enough to keep our bond going.” Jake explained, a hint of dullness in his voice.

“I mean, I could ask if it’s her…” Nayeon continued.

“If you want, you can. I doubt she remembers me anyways.” Jake said while reaching over Nayeon’s shoulder for his duffle bag. 

“I’m off to practice now, see you later.” 

“See you…” She mumbled, still hung up on what Jake said earlier. 

Whoever this girl was, she must’ve been important to Jake for him to recognize her from such a far distance and a low quality image.

PREVIOUS MASTERLIST NEXT

ENHYPEN PERM TAGLIST — @miumura @macapunoz @ch4c0nnenh4 @ancnymcnzjy

FTP TAGLIST — @enhypenlovre @love-lee @ikeulove @mnhpuppy @httpenhoon @yeonmuse @modanisgf @wilonevys @starry-eyed-bimbo @immelissaaa @woniefull @mymelodyfanatic @hollxe1 @rikiiisoob @parkjjongswifey @coqhee @heirdollies @domfikeluva @miszes @eyesonlybutterflies @suhwife @yuniesluv @right-person-wrong-time @haechsworld @butterflywonz @leehsngs @ddolleri @multifandomlovers-posts @t1iqaa @itsactuallylina

© JUYEOZ

[blkbbyprincess]

turn up the temp! arcane!vi x blk!reader nsfw

vi likes a girl with a mouth on her; a girl who knows her way around some pussy.

a girl who has the ability to pull a variety of enticing sounds from her throat, leaving her with a sore one after she’s been eaten sloppy.

a girl who's got it all figured out and knows exactly what she wants from you and how she’s gonna get it; with experience of course.

that particular girl would be you.

the same girl she was currently snickering under the covers with in this bastardly wintery weather; all cuddled up on each other like penguins trying to keep warm and prevent catching a cold or worse.

if someone happened to see you two right now, it would be a good laugh; a great one even. it was almost ridiculous how you and vi were quite literally spooning each other trying to get some kind of warmth.

“your feet are freezing you fucker, get em off me” vi giggled.

you’re no better; your hands are freezing my back, you know that? you shot back with a sneer.

“how the hell else are we supposed to warm up if the air conditioning is jacked? i’d like to hear a better suggestion, genius.”

“i meannnn, there’s always one way we both like.”

so there you were, licking at vi’s clit from under the covers with two fingers in her vagina; opening and closing them in a scissoring motion to better stimulate her.

“-fu-fuckkkk, that’s it babygirl.”

Her voice quivered as she struggled to stay silent, desperate not to create enough noise to provoke the neighbors into beating the door down again. but it was nearly impossible to hold back when she was experiencing head of a lifetime.

she often found herself curious about where could you have possibly learned how to eat pussy like this?

she hoped and prayed it was only because of an overwhelming amount porn or something; because if she were to find out another girl had experienced this that she was feeling; she would surely die.

she quickly brought her hand to her mouth, letting out a sharp gasp as your tongue found her g-spot. waves of pleasure surged through her, and she could already sense her climax approaching, even though barely ten minutes had passed.

she was trying her best to hold out for you, because in all honesty, as much as she loved when you ate her out; she hated cumming first; and as slick as you were, literally and figuratively, you made sure she wasn’t able to touch you.

but you never noted anything subconsciously about not being able to touch yourself.

your poor baby was getting so pathetically vocal; it was starting to arouse you to the point where your pussy was painfully throbbing; so you did what any desperate woman would do, and reached back and began to work your fingers into your sopping cunt.

“ohhh s-shittt, i love when you moan in it cupcake, keep doin’ t-that.”

the relentless sounds of your and vi's heavy breathing and moaning made the space beneath the comforter feel like it was comparable to hell itself.

the smell of sex filled the room quicker than a freshly lit joint; and that says a lot about how busy you and vi were getting down. you wanted warmth for the winter, and boyyy did you get it.

it got so intense that the heat was making you nauseous in the head; dizzying, almost as if you had popped a damn 30.

(i cant help but make drug references what can i say i’m a weedhead lol.)

“i-i can’t much longer vi, i-i’m about to-.”

you were trembling in your legs, doing everything you could to hold back from finishing before her. but after all the time that passed since you last hooked up, it felt impossible to resist at that moment.

“it’s o-ok cupcake mmmh me too, cum with me?”

in that moment, both of you reached a simultaneous release, resulting in her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, an arm draped across her forehead, while you fell beside her in exhaustion.

vi shook herself out of her long, totally inappropriate thoughts and tossed the comforter off both of you, flinging it as far as she could to the edge of the bed.

“feeling a little warmer now?” you poke, with your face planted in the sheets; sounding a little muffled.

“on fire cupcake, on fucking fire.” she said contently, wiping sweat beads off her cheeks; reaching over to wipe yours off your neck.

about thirty minutes later, you two were back snuggled between one another, watching “orange is the new black” comfortably until hearing a loud sound that resounded a switch being flipped from outside your apartment and a humming noise leading afterwards.

you both ended up ignoring the noise until you felt a change in temperature a few moments later; finally realizing what the noise from earlier was.

that noise was the fucking heating system up and running again.

[jeminie-rising]

One Second Fireworks

[ Inumaki Toge x Reader ]

link to AO3: [ One Second Fireworks by JEMINIE ]

summary: "His eyes now looking for the fireworks in the reflection in your eyes as they looked up in awe."

or, Toge gets called in from the Inumaki Clan for the holidays, but made it back to Tokyo just in time for the last chime of the new years countdown to steal the last grape from you.

warnings: Inumaki Toge uses sign language, Soft Inumaki, Inumaki says more than just rice balls ingredients, fluff, toge and reader being complete idiots in love, no smut!, toge thinks he’s not deserving :(, afab!reader, they're both so in love but can't admit to it (yet), Toge says more than just rice ball ingredients, there might be slight mischaracterisations, found family, everyone ate grapes at midnight, new years eve, Not actually unrequited love (they just shy), Panda is so supportive.

characters: inumaki toge, The Inumaki Clan, Fushiguro Megumi, Itadori Yuuji, Kugisaki Nobara, Zen'in Maki, Panda, slight Satoru Gojo, mentioned Yuta Okkotsu

word count: 5,379

authors note: hii! decided to write a part two of the Inumaki x reader Christmas one shot! will be putting them in a series, so it's easier to read through them. But definitely can be read as solo works too! Told myself that this would be a one shot but when would that actually be followed through? LMAOO (comments get to my head and make me want to write more ngl --they're just so cute pls)

FIND PART ONE HERE (a silent christmas) IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT YET!

and as usual, enjoy!! and happiest new year to everyone xx

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

A lot can happen in a year.

New year, new resolutions, new dreams, and new hopes. But not for you, you had a resolution, a plan, and a dream that has been on standby for nearly a year now. And it didn’t look like it was going to change anytime soon. It hasn’t been long anyways that you’ve known Toge, but it definitely felt longer than what it was. Time with him seemed to stretch just longer than you thought. And while he was away, if it were possible, it seemed unbearably longer. 

“Have you guys counted your own grapes yet?” Nobara called out for everyone.

A silly little thing she and Itadori found online. You couldn't understand how the tradition of the 12 grapes suddenly had to be eaten from under the table. Growing up with your family, you ate the grapes with one another, twelve for the twelve last chimes of the bell of the year, only to be followed by a mouthful of cheers from one another. This year, when your family died, you truly thought you were going to spend it on your own. Fortunately enough, you found your way in the company of some good human friends and an equally great panda friend.

Unfortunately, one of those friends was missing. Inumaki, the same one that you wished, most of all, to be there, was called upon by his clan. He was to spend the holidays with his family, a long held tradition that dated for centuries. Unlike the one that you, Nobara, and Itadori were trying to create that same night. The Inumaki clan showed their solidarity for the members of their family that were cursed with the Snake Eyes and Fangs. For the entirety of the end of the year into the year to come, they were to pass their days in silence. A custom that the holders of cursed speech often had to go through their entire lives.

Toge never cared for having to limit his vocabulary. He never minded it, his friends always could grasp what it is that he wanted to convey anyways. His feelings and ideas always reached the hearts of those he cared for, and although it was hard to not be able to use full words, it was nothing compared to witnessing anyone he cared for be under the curse of his words. That was just what the kind of person Inumaki was. Exactly the reason why you initially fell for him.

Megumi, on the other hand, as the true spirit of his personality, was already complaining into the new year, “I still don’t quite understand why we have to do this? It’s not like we’re Spanish or Lati—”

“IT’S A TRADITION!” Nobara stomped her feet.

“Traditions require a transmission of customs for a regular amount of times, we’re doing this for the first time.” Maki supported Megumi. Perhaps such a personality ran in their blood.

“It will be fun!” Itadori tried to convince them, with his eyes on the clock. Only 27 more minutes left.

“I will eat the grapes, but I am not getting under the table,” Megumi stayed on his chair.

For lack of a better place, they decided to take a classroom of Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College and transform it for their year end’s party. It wasn’t much of course, a few decorations here and there, number shaped balloons showing the year that they were entering, and the food that covered their school desks that lined up in a long table.

“It’s not like I would fit under one either…” Panda chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

“Then perhaps, for solidarity, should we all just not go under the table?” You offered. You didn’t want Panda to feel left out if Megumi and Maki miraculously agreed to crawl under a table.

Itadori couldn’t help but nod to that. He too, would have felt too bad to leave out any member in their little game. “What if we just put the table mantles over our heads!?” 

They all looked at him, his logic may have been a little far fetched but Nobara would have taken anything she could at that point. Time was ticking and she was not going to be single for yet another year. 14 minutes.

“Fine!” She finally agreed to it. “Table mantles… so stupid.”

“More stupid than eating grapes under a table?” Megumi laughed.

“If I am still single by the end of this coming year, y’all going to feel my hammer!”

Compared to crawling under a table, the idea of a table mantle over everyone’s head was not an idea that required as much convincing. Everyone looked like little disfigured ghosts and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of them. 

You looked at your watch. 3 minutes.

Because everyone’s eyesight was covered, no one could keep looking at the clock. For a highly funded government school, it was hard to get a grab on a tv out there for them to use and move into the classroom. None of your teachers allowed for that. So Itadori had his phone propped up with a countdown from a stream online. 2 minutes. And your heart was beating in excitement as you held onto your paper cup filled with twelve grapes. The sensation was familiar to that of when you were near Inumaki. Or that one time he was holding you close, as he hid you from a first grade curse.

Memories of your year started flooding your mind. This could have been the worst year for you. Losing your entire family. Knowing you would have never had your life back and that your future was forever going to be cursed with the presence of… well, curses. But, at the same time, you also met all your new friends. You learned things about the world you thought were only myth and fantasy. You learned things about yourself you never knew. Pushed yourself to limits you never knew you even had. And, somehow, among all of them, the image of Inumaki’s rare exposed smile shone through.

“Here we go!” Nobara urged them, although the time was still long. 36 seconds. Anything could happen in that time. 

In only a few seconds, you were able to reminisce the entirety of a year. In just one, the Earth travels 18.5 miles through space. In just a few seconds, you could try to call Inumaki and confess your undying love for him. In just the few seconds left you had, you grabbed the phone out of your back pocket and reached for Inumaki’s chat.

On the corner of your phone. 23:59.

On your watch. 21 seconds.

On the one-hand-typed message for Inumaki. Happy new year, Inumaki-senpai!

You hesitated, but then continued. I lov…

“Here, here, HERE!” Itadori chanted. 

Your attention now on hearing the bells of the streaming. 15 seconds. And you were considering sending the message before the time so you could focus on the grapes. But in a panic, you placed the cup in the hand that held your phone, without sending the message, and started to get a single grape.

The people in the stream started counting.

TWELVE!

Everyone ate a grape. 

ELEVEN!

Everyone was quiet. Only the sound of people munching and shuffling under their own table mantle could be heard along with the stream of the countdown.

TEN!

You were already struggling with three grapes. Remnants of the first grape were still at the back of your mouth, unable to swallow it all.

NINE! 

You saw three dots bubbling from your phone. 

EIGHT!

Your heart started to pound more as you tried to keep up with the grape counting and try to read whatever message you were about to receive.

SEVEN!

There was still no message. The sign of Inumaki typing was still there. You had to wonder if he was doing his own countdown or was he laying in his bed at home as silence haunted his estate.

SIX!

“I don’t have grapes of my own :(“ His text read. How did he know you guys were doing grapes? Your mind quickly went to Itadori, who kept updating him with pictures of each of you as the holidays went. You chuckled.

Hearing your chuckle, the others thought you were struggling with the grapes as they were.

“Dish ish soh ARD!” Itadori said in a mouthful.

FIVE!

“OCUS!” Nobara tried to bring their attention to the grapes. It was quite a hard feat.

FOUR!

You checked your phone again, the screen still on Inumaki’s chat. There were bubbles again. Oh, he definitely wasn’t counting down with family.

“Can I have some? :)” His text read.

THREE!

You see two feet in front of you. Who was walking around while eating the grapes?

You didn’t have much time to worry about it for now, Nobara might just scold your ass into the new year, as you stuffed your face with grapes. 

TWO!

Then one hand lifted your table mantle enough to reveal Inumaki standing right in front of you. The shock of seeing him there made you freeze in your place. Grape between your two fingers.

ONE!

You forgot all about the twelve grapes. Eleven were already mushed inside your puffed cheeks, while the last one was now in Inumaki’s mouth, lips brushing against your fingers where it was just a second ago.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Inumaki winked at you. All you could do back was blink. 

Everyone else removed their mantles too as the chimes stroke twelve and let out mouthful greetings and cheers. Inumaki was quick. He let go of the mantle he kept up to look at you and turned around to the others.

“Inumaki-senpai?!” Itadori reacted first, quite dumbfounded.

“TOGE! You made it!” Panda greeted him with a hug.

“[name] get out of there!” Nobara called out for you, still a table mantle on your head. “Look, Inumaki is here!”

You lifted the mantle with your free hand. The one Inumaki helped himself with by eating your last grape from. Your expression is still in shock, which worked in favour of Inumaki. It was exactly how he wanted you to look like, to not bring the others any suspicion.

“Uh– uhm,” you stammered your first few words of the year, “H-happy new year, Inumaki-senpai.”

The boy tilted his head as he smiled towards you. His cute crinkles framed his eyes. You couldn’t help but blush.

“Kelp!” He said, now to everyone present. “Tuna tuna!”

“You wanted to surprise us?! That is so sweet, Toge!” Panda feigned tears.

“Salmon!”

You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. Your mind went through so many things. He often played pranks. He often aimed them at you and Itadori. Mostly because of how gullible you both were sometimes. But why did he have to wink at you and make your heart beat so fast?

You entered the new year with arrhythmia. 

“Hey, let's cheer!” Itadori suggested.

This gave you the right excuse to keep your mind off of things. With decisive steps you walked towards the tables lined up and grabbed sparkling soda you guys bought. Being minors, they didn’t quite allow you to buy even the mildest of sparkling wines. Even though Gojo thought he could sneak some for you guys, Nanami highly pushed that idea aside by dragging him far from you and left with only a warning.

You were lining up the cups when Panda joined you. Quite surprised to see him there beside you, when one of his best mates just arrived from out of thin air. But he was there, grabbing the half empty bottle of soda, as he started to fill the lined up cups.

“You should talk to him,” Panda said as he filled the second cup.

“What?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

You stood there silently for a second, “why me? Why not talk to me?”

Panda only let her sit in her words for a few seconds as he stared at her from the corner of his eyes. 

“Okay fine, I do realise the stupidity of my words,” she admitted. “But that’s exactly my point! I can’t do words when it comes to Inumaki-senpai!”

Panda chuckled, “You have a far greater vocabulary than him, I am sure you can string along some words to make up something good enough. Besides, he would understand you even without pretty words.”

You tilted your head at him confused.

“The Inumaki clan… learnt how to communicate with their heart,” he explained.

You sat on his few words for a while, until he finished filling up the last cup, calling the others to get their own cups. It didn’t take long before everyone had their paper cups up in the air, cheering for the new year ahead.

“To us!” Itadori cheered.

“To less missions!” Nobara said.

“To even lesser hard exams,” Panda pleaded.

“Spicy cod roe!” Inumaki brought Maki and Megumi closer.

“Cheers, guys!” Maki joined the enthusiasm.

“Cheers,” Megumi said, not as excitedly as the others but with a clear smile on his face.

“To Gojo-sensei for having begged the principal for us to use this classroom!” You laughed.

“TO GOJO-SENSEI!” Everyone clinked their cups together.

Everyone downed their soda in a matter of seconds. Being just sparkling sugar, you’d think they were drinking alcohol from the expressions they were making. Inumaki stepped towards you, although his mouth was already covered just after drinking soda, you could tell he was wearing a smile. 

You looked at him, awaiting for one of his ingredients to be called out. But instead he pointed towards your pocket, where you stored your phone away. It didn’t take you long to understand he was calling for it. Was he going to use it to type out what he needed to say? Wouldn’t have been the first time. He often used your phone to type out whatever complex thing he had to say. 

However, this time, when he took your phone after you unlocked it, he didn’t open the Notes app. You weren’t looking at the screen, after all this time, you learnt to wait patiently for him to finish typing instead of pressuring him by hoarding his space.

After chuckling at your phone, he faced your own phone towards you. The screen flashed onto your chat with him. It confused you at first, until you read the half-typed message you had for him.

Happy new year, Inumaki-senpai! I lov

Your eyes widened. Your following actions fast, as you reached out to grab your phone. However, his were even quicker, pulling his hand back in the air. You knew, with your current fighting skills, you could only take on Inumaki for a little more than a minute before he had you floored. He was the only semi first grader among the students present anyways. With the dress and heels you were wearing, insisted by Nobara, you could bet it was even less than so. Even without the use of his cursed speech.

“Inumaki-senpai please–” 

“Bonito flakes,” He cut you off by shaking his head, and continued wiggling his eyebrows “Tuna~?”

You looked around, everyone was busying themselves by talking to one another. It wasn’t new anyways that Toge teased you, so they did not bat an eye as you cried out for your phone. But you still hushed your voice as you stepped closer to him, “I was typing with one hand! I had my cup in hand, my fingers must have slipped–”

He shook his head again, this time chuckling at you.

“It’s true!” You insisted. 

It wasn’t far from the truth, anyways. But you couldn’t help but think if this would have been a good opportunity to finally tell him how you felt. You could have let your past self say what your present self couldn’t, but not like this. Not from a message. You didn’t want to confess to your crush through half-written unsent text.

You thought maybe it was time, maybe you could welcome the new year by following through your backlog of resolutions. You gathered all the courage you had before you could hear a loud bang, bringing all of you to attention outside. Being trained sorcerers your first instinct was to get ready for a fight, but it all seemed silly as colours filled the night sky of Tokyo.

“FIREWORKS!” You, Itadori, and Nobara exclaimed. You already forgot all about the half-written confession you had. Fireworks now filled your view and entire mind.

“Let’s go out!” Itadori jumped, not even grabbing a scarf to warm himself before hopping over the big window to the outside.

You laughed, only to follow him excited as he was. Forgetting all about your own jacket too, and other matters, in the building. Excitement was enough to warm you up.

“Hey, wait for us!” Panda was trying to follow suit, as he wrapped himself with a scarf before getting out. It wasn’t long before everyone had followed after Itadori, who was completely immersed in the fireworks that they all could see in the skies. 

These had to be programmed by the city of Tokyo, you thought, there was no way civilians could master nor have enough money to afford such grand fireworks. Your group managed to get a hold of sprinklers and small fireworks that you had planned to light up in the courtyard. But they were nothing as beautiful as the ones in the sky.

You had your head tilted back, admiring the lights. You have always adored lights. Your family would always bring you to firework shows and other kinds of light shows, since you were a child. When the biggest streets of a city would finally put up their Christmas lights, you were always there for the first night of lighting it up. The winter holidays season was always your favourite, only followed by the summer festivals with their crazy firework shows. 

The memories of the summer festivals’ fireworks warmed you up enough to forget it was actually dead winter that night. It didn’t occur to you the cold that was beginning to crinkle up from your feet. You looked around to your friends, all of them were also looking at the skies, smiles planted on everyone’s face –even gloomy Megumi.

“That one had to be the biggest one yet!” Nobara screamed to be heard by everyone.

“No! There’s gonna be a bigger one –I know it!!” Itadori jumped.

“Salmon!” Inumaki couldn’t help but agree with Itadori. And just like that, a sprinkle of bright silver almost enveloped the entire sky in a big big dome. Everyone wow-ed in a chorus, and Inumaki had to take away his eyes from the beautiful show long before the sprinkles were gone, only to look at your reaction.

He inched closer, with intentions in his step. His eyes now looking for the fireworks in the reflection in your eyes as they looked up in awe.

Perhaps the whole ‘you're the most beautiful view’ was quite cheesy for his tastes, but he couldn’t help but be exactly that whenever it came to you. He always found cheesy lines lame, overly sweet love songs cringy, and in love characters in movies who refused to be together for the smallest inconveniences to be stupid to the point of frustration. But hell was he starting to understand them the days he first met you.

It wasn’t quite exactly love at first sight. You came to the school all battered up, it was only a few days after Itadori had come in, and everyone was surprised to see a new student so soon. Your eyes, unlike right now, were hollow and at a loss of life. Inumaki only heard of what happened to you. Losing your family and that same night, being approached by a stranger with blindfolds, who insisted on you following him to a quite suspicious secluded school claiming all sorts of weird things (knowing Gojo-sensei, he wasn’t the best at explaining what curses were and this new world was that you were about to embark in). 

When Inumaki saw you for the first time, your head was tilted down instead of up to look at the sky. His first feelings towards you were out of sympathy. He wasn’t quite sure when the many other feelings began to creep in. Maybe it was the way you’d always make space in the conversation for him. The way you asked him questions so he could just say yes or no to them. The way you began to bring around an extra bottle of cough syrup with you in your pocket for him even when neither of you were on a mission.

But he knew it for sure the day of his birthday. You’ve been in the school for a few months by then and he wasn’t sure how it was that you found out about his birthday. But you had prepared a gift just for him. You insisted it was silly, and that it might have been more work for him than giving him a normal material gift, but in his heart, that was everything.

Feeling some eyes on you, you looked around to see Inumaki already staring at you. A hidden soft smile planted on his face. You tilted your head to the side, smiling at him. Clearly you already have forgotten your interaction earlier. Inumaki couldn’t help but chuckle again at you. Quite adorable, he wished to say.

You brought your finger up to point at him. He followed your gestures, already locking in to read them. Then you brought the same hand to both of your shoulders, the left then the right, tilted your head again to show your worry. 

Are you okay?

Inumaki couldn’t help but smile fondly. That was one of the first few things he learnt ever since you gave him that guided tutorial on basic Japanese Sign Language for his birthday. Turned out, ever since you met him, you’ve been studying how to do sign language to effectively talk with him. Then, ever since his birthday, he caught up with you, almost being better at it than you are, despite how much longer you took to learn.

Inumaki gave you a shake of the head. But gave no other gestures to explain himself. You could only frown, but your hands were instinctively already going towards your pocket. Inumaki knew what you hid in there –his cough syrup– he stopped your hand with his own, feeling how cold yours were compared to his.

Having followed Itadori out without thinking, you left your jacket inside. Fortunately, Inumaki was more prepared than you, and he calmly but surely took off his own jacket to place it around your shoulders.

“Oh no, I am okay!” You insisted.

But Inumaki was shaking his head once again, “Bonito flakes.”

You frowned, “why aren’t you okay? Are you not enjoying the fireworks?”

Being so close to one another, you didn’t have to scream to be heard from one another. You could have raised your voices a little louder, but at that point, both of you were quite scared to be heard by the others a few steps away from you.

“Bonito flakes,” Inumaki replied, smiling. At this point, you already knew all the expressions he could give with just the use of the upper part of his face.

“What is it then?” You asked, encouraging sign language by already looking at his hands for some gestures.

However, Inumaki didn’t do any sign language. Instead, he brought out your phone again, having kept it in his hand that whole time. Refusing to let go of it, as if he couldn’t let go of the half-written message you left in it. Only then, the realisation of what happened earlier came back to you in a flash. Another firework banged the moment you lost a beat of your heart.

“Oh,” was all you could manage to say.

You stayed there, fidgeting on his jacket, closing it in –partly in hopes to hide yourself under it. Inumaki, though, he waited patiently for you. Something he found himself having to do more than you did for him. With his limitations, he learnt how to effectively communicate with the little he had in record times. However, with all the words, sign language, texting, and writing you could manage, you still struggled to form anything close to coherent that could have you satisfied. Your conversation with Panda came back to your mind. 

But before you could muster even the lamest word you could think of, Inumaki called for your attention, “Tuna.”

Although he was patient, he also was eager. He wanted to start this new year already, and, in his mind, he couldn’t begin it until he made sure of your feelings. You looked up at him, and as much as he wanted to hear you say the words, he could see it all in your eyes. That was one thing he was most glad to have inherited and learnt from his family. Communication from the heart. No words needed. And although it may have come unintentional to you, Inumaki could have understood all your emotions from the day you stepped into Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College.

All the words you never said, but showed instead. Before you even started conversing in sign language, before you could even get a grasp of his onigiri ingredients, you could already speak his language –that of the heart.

But as crystal clear and plain as day as it was for him, his feelings might have not been clear to you without speaking them. He couldn’t expect you, nor anyone, to know his thoughts and feelings without expressing them. Maybe that’s why you asked him so many questions. It was your own very way to know his feelings and thoughts. However, this time around, it was his turn to close that gap.

For the many times she adjusted to him, he was ready to adjust his own language to her.

You brought your index finger up and shook it, and asked, “what is it?”

Time seemed not to pass. For Inumaki, it was still midnight. It was still the same second he got courage to eat your last grape from your fingers. For him, the only sign of time passing were the fireworks changing in the background. Unlike the warm lights from that Christmas eve at his estate, many different colours lightened up your face.

With only that, he got enough courage to finally say it. May all the precautions be thrown out the window. He was always scared to fall in love. He was never sure how it would turn out to be in a relationship where he couldn’t even say how he felt. But the more time passed, the more it seemed possible with you. A fever dream, suddenly, became a goal –a reality.

He slowly unzipped his collar, showing his entire face. You, with the bunch of times you’ve seen his bare face, were still quite hypnotised by the tattoos on both his cheek. Once you got a snippet of the one on his tongue, making you wonder how much it hurt to get it –or was it something he was born with like his curse? That was a question you haven’t gotten to ask yet, you thought.

Inumaki noticed how you shook your head slightly, before bringing your eyes back up to his, with a slight blush on your face. This little act made him smile, and it took a little bit of his nerves to not hide himself behind his collar again. How was it that it only took a little undone zipper, to make you both so bashful.

He sighed deeply, calming himself to regain the confidence he had just a second ago. He clapped his hands on his face, and this surprised you quite a bit. But the surprise was enough to melt the nerves away, making you giggle at the oddity of the moment.

He brought his hands to your shoulders, begging again for your attention, “Tuna.”

“Yes,” you nodded, for how little you could hear him in between the fireworks, you focused on him. “I’m listening.”

He slowly brought both of his thumb and index finger to each side of his chin. Each finger on his tattoos. He kept them there for a few fireworks exploding in the sky. Frozen.

“Inumaki-senpai?” You asked, your eyes slightly widened. 

He wasn’t done, of course. He had one more gesture to do, in order to say what he wanted to say, but your mind was already trotting like a horse at thousands kilometers per hour. You knew that sign –or at least the one he was setting himself up for. You used it constantly.

It was one of the first few things you learned to express yourself to him. On a summer day, how you liked the flavour of ice cream you picked, but preferred his. How when you were starting to get to know him, you told him how you liked science as a subject but absolutely loathed maths. And of course, you often used it to talk about your favourite movies and shows. There was not a day that passed when you wouldn’t use it. Inumaki, seeing you do it countless times, got the hang of the kind of person you were. Loving and expressive.

He needed to take your example.

He began to slide the fingers to connect them at the tip of his chin. But then it was disrupted by Itadori’s cheers.

“Happy new year guys!”

He hugged the both of you, each arm on each of you bringing you closer to him. Inumaki could only see Panda by the side of his view crossing his arms in an ‘X’ over his head to Itadori. But it was too late. The moment was gone. Another came flooding in from the group of friends.

Inumaki didn’t even notice the lack of fireworks. They were done, marking the end of his chance. That second to midnight lasted almost an hour and he still didn’t make it. He was disappointed, sure, but it took one look at you to see you laughing for him to forgive the others’ disruption rather quickly.

“Spicy cod roe!” He cheered with them after a small sigh of defeat.

“Happy new year, Itadori!” You laughed under his arm.

“Let’s get in to continue the party!” Nobara started ahead, rubbing her hands together in the cold. You were pretty sure she wanted to go back in to get warm. 

The others didn’t idle, following her suit. It was only you who hesitated for a second, looking up to the sky. There were no more fireworks, you’ve missed most of them, but it was alright. You had a moment with Inumaki. You weren’t fully sure what he was about to say (or sign), but you had a moment. What was left of the fireworks were only smokey clouds and stars that, despite the lights of the city, could still be seen.

There weren’t many, but they were there. A bunch. Shining above you all as you entered the new year. And even if the others weren’t seen, you knew they still were there. Exactly like what Inumaki knew your feelings to be. You still haven’t fully confessed your feelings, but he knew they were there. And for now, as he watched you look up to the sky for stars while wearing his coat, he was just going to have to be content with it.

“Happy new year, [name].”

You looked down at Inumaki, hearing his voice again saying something other than onigiri ingredients since Christmas. Your heart started to beat faster, but this time, there were no fireworks to hide it. You only wished he was far enough to not hear it slamming against your chest. With his wish for you you could feel the new year starting great and only becoming better.

You smiled at him, as he zipped his collar back up. A faint smile hid slowly behind it and you could swear his mouth moved more, but his collar was already all the way up for you to hear or read his lips.

“Happy new year, Inumaki-senpai!”

[heaven-s-black-box]

Head Down- Jing Yuan x fem!Reader

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Recovery date: January 6th, 2025

Description: Hi I was just watching the first episode of the apothecary diaries and I had an idea, what if the reader was in a similar situation with Jing Yuan

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. I took the whole, trying to keep to yourself but wanting to help and getting dragged in to stuff, aspect. Hope that's good enough.

Word count: 1 371

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Survival is predicated on keeping your head down; at least that’s what Y/n has been taught.

It was how she’d made it through life so far, working hard through school and never going above and beyond, finding a quiet career as a waitress at the Sleepless Earl. Even her hobbies were fairly mundane.

Y/n stood in the kitchen, hugging her tray to her chest and watching the water boil as she made a new pot of tea for one of her tables. The door to the shop opened and closed, and there were heavy footsteps on the polished wooden floor. Her lips curled into a barely noticeable frown.

Cloud Knights rarely entered the shop, it was inconvenient in case they were called off for an emergency. Only once or twice had Cloud Knights come in, still armored, right after a shift.

She waited with baited breath for the footsteps to pass, to find a table inside, but luck was not on her side today.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” Y/n looked up from the water. “Can we speak with Ms. Mengming?”

“Ms. Mengming isn’t here today, but she left me in charge.” Unfortunately. “How can I help you?”

The Knights looked at eachother, having a silent conversation, and then addressed her again.

“Is there a way we can contact Ms.Mengming?”

“I can get you her number,” Y/n offered, not bothering to probe.

They agreed, and Y/n excused herself to the back; coming back with Mengming’s contact information scribbled on a note. Surely she would understand that Y/n had to interrupt her day off, though she did feel a little bad.

The Cloud Knights left, and Y/n assumed that would be the end of it.

It was not.

A week later Y/n showed up for her morning shift and was immediately met with a gossip circle in the break room.

“Y/n!” One of her co-workers called her over.

“What’s up?”

“What did the Cloud Knights want the other day?”

Y/n shrugged, putting her stuff in her locker. “They were looking for Mengming, I didn’t ask why.”

“That’s Y/n for you,” someone else commented, he was new so Y/n didn’t take it to heart.

Most of her co-workers appreciated her behavior, because she’d definitely caught them doing things they technically shouldn’t and she’d also gone above and beyond without credit to lessen their workloads. Because technically, one could live with their head down as long as they never got caught doing more than the bare minimum.

“Well the Cloud Knights are back, and they’re interviewing everyone individually.”

“I think I saw the General here too.”

“Why would the General be here?”

“Must be serious if he is.”

“Great,” Y/n mumbled.

Y/n was the first interviewed.

She’s barely started the first batch of snacks when Mengming called her into her office. The foxian bid her good morning with a reassuring smile and held the door open for her.

Even before stepping in, Y/n took note of the room. The only person in the room was, surprisingly, General Jing Yuan. Outside the door were two Cloud Knights on either side, and Mengming who excused herself to go help the rest of the staff.

Y/n nodded politely at the Cloud Knights before stepping into the office. The Cloud Knights closed the door behind her, and she stopped to stand behind the chair across from the General.

“General, is there anything I can help you with today?”

This was not the first time they’d met; Jing Yuan was a fan of the Sleepless Earl, and Y/n had been working here for quite a while.

“Please, sit.” Y/n did as she was told, crossing her hands in her lap. “Apologies for interrupting your day.”

“It’s alright, I’m sure the matter must be important if you’re here yourself.”

Jing Yuan laughed. “Always straight to the point.” The General leaned forward, lacing his hands on the desk. “Have you noticed any of your co-workers acting suspicious lately?”

“No.” Y/n bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from wincing, she’d answered too fast. “I mean, I don’t really pay attention to know what’s suspicious and what’s not.”

The General raised a brow, scrutinizing her lie.

You see, Jing Yuan is very perceptive. He has to be. He also likes to think he knows Y/n pretty well, so he does know that she definitely pays attention to the things going on around her. It’s very hard to pass unnoticed when you don’t know what the norm is.

“Y/n.”

“Yes?”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out two pieces of paper. One, a receipt from the Sleepless Earl with a note scribbled on it. She doesn’t need to read it, or see the second paper, to know what he’s getting at. The second paper, which she glances at anyway to confirm her suspicions, is a note.

Side by side, she wants to kick herself.

It is very clearly her handwriting both times, rushed but legible.

“If you have a tip what’s with the interviews? Surely the Cloud Knights can investigate on their own.”

“How did you figure it out?”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“A bit of an abuse of power, no? You’re disrupting our business for your own curiosity.”

“You wouldn’t have answered me otherwise, now, the sooner you answer the sooner we leave.”

Y/n sighed, setting her hands on the desk and leaning in.

“She’d unpacked a shipment of tea and ‘thrown out’ the shipment box saying it was damaged. Unfortunately for her, I’d already checked the shipment and knew it wasn’t damaged.”

“So you investigated.”

“No. What do you take me for, a PI? It was one box and I’d scratched off the approval seal, I do that with all our shipments. But she didn’t want it to get something past inspections, did she?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

Y/n sat back, dragging her hands along the desk. It shouldn’t matter that Jing Yuan couldn’t tell her, she was already more involved than she liked to be. Survival was predicated on keeping your head down, and not getting involved with dangerous people– and anyone could be dangerous.

But, Y/n wasn’t the type to let injustices she could stop pass her by. That was why she was here, wasn’t it? Because she couldn’t keep to herself like her parents taught her to.

That was why she had packed that stupid note in Jing Yuan’s order of tea cakes to go.

“Is that all then?”

Jing Yuan nodded. “You’re free to go.”

She stood up, bowed politely, and left.

Her co-workers practically swarmed her, asking what to expect and what it was about. They were silenced when the office door opened again and Jing Yuan stepped out. He apologized to them for disrupting their day, and then Mengming escorted him and the Cloud Knights out.

Y/n watched them until the door to the shop closed.

The next day, one of her co-workers was arrested for the trafficking of illicit substances on the Luofu. Y/n had been half right, it didn’t matter that the boxes no longer had inspection seals because they were only being used to hold and move the substances within the Luofu. She’d had a feeling it involved illicit substances, she hadn’t mentioned anything to Jing Yuan but there had been more to her tip than just the boxes. 

Since she was using empty tea boxes, she would keep some of her wares around the Sleepless Earl. Y/n had taken great care to keep anyone else from finding out; it would be too much of a hassle. The Sleepless Earl would have to close during the investigation and everyone who worked here would be implicated. It would do more harm than good to report her.

As Y/n watched the news, her phone lit up with a text from an unknown number.

Unknown 8:16 AM I think we work well together I hope you’ll keep me updated in the future It’s a lot of effort to pull a stunt like yesterday, and it’s counter to your motto I do believe