#and of course it could change at a moments notice...

[enhaeil]

Jay’s response to you taking off your ring during an argument

ACT LIKE THAT! ☆ 박종성

"how you gonna up and leave me now how you gonna act like that? how you gonna change it up? we just finished makin' up... how you gonna act like that?"

how you gonna act like that - tyrese

c/w: angst, arguing and im in love w jay

it's as if a grey cloud is sitting over your once happy home. the bed is colder, the conversations are dry, and the goodbyes are quiet.

you can't even remember the last time you put the 'i' in front of 'love you'.

but you knew you loved him. you know the man you married and you know how good it could be. "it's just a bump in the road, that's all." is what you keep telling yourself, until it finally caused a crash.

"i just feel like you don't even want to be in this relationship anymore, y/n. i try to talk to you, but you shut me out. when i hold you, it feels distant. when i try to make love to you, you always push me off. do you even love me?" he says, still keeping his voice at a decent level.

"do i love you? of course, I love you, jay. if anything, i should be asking you that. when's the last time you've actually tried to do any of that? you barely look at me." your chest feels tight. your voice is rising, and it feels like you can't control it.

"i look at you all the time, y/n you're my wife. don't try to flip this on me when you're the one who's been distant." he says, taking a seat on the couch to ground himself.

"sure, jay. you look at me. whatever. but are you really seeing me ? i'm miserable, jay. i'm unhappy. i'm going through it. i feel trapped in my own house, and then I have to go outside and face it too. i should be able to at least come home to a husband who acts like he cares about me."

that was the pin to the balloon. for the first time, jay raises his voice at you. and you don't like it one bit.

"fine, y/n. if i'm such a bad husband, why're we married then?" he shouts before his brain could even process his words.

he wants to take it back. he wants to stand up and hold you, but his legs won't move.

before he could, you're out of his sight, and he hears your bedroom door shut. god, he's such an idiot.

jay gives it some time. not just for him to collect his thoughts, but for you to collect yours. he knew both of you were stressed, but not to this point.

he finally heads upstairs, carefully opening the door. he hears the shower running and lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

he scans the room, looking at the box of tissues sitting on the nightstand, a sign of the tears he made you shed that night, his chest tightening at the thought.

he noticed something sparkling next to it, causing him to step closer.

the ring he spent hours choosing, because he knew you didn't deserve just any regular ring. the ring he gracefully placed on your finger on your special day. the ring he's pressed kisses against absentmindedly, a promise to each other, sitting on the nightstand.

he didn't think you would take his words to heart. he knows why you two are married. he knows why you chose to stay with him even when he hasn't been the best husband. he plays with the diamond band in his hand as thoughts race through his head.

he doesn't even hear the shower cut off or the door opening as he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the ring in his hand.

steams follows you as you leave the bathroom, hair damp and towel wrapped around you, yet once you spot jay, you tightened it as if he'd never seen you more vulnerable.

"j-jay ... can you step out, i wanna get dressed." you say, voice quiet and hoarse.

his heart breaks even more, hearing that. "don't be like that, y/n. please." he says desperately.

a moment of silence passes, before he lets out a shaky sigh. "you took your ring off." he says letting out a dry chuckle.

your heart sinks. you'd never thought it would get here, seeing the man you love, broken.

"i'm sorry, jay. i didn't know what to do and- and i was angry, and i-"

"i haven't stopped loving you, ever, y/n. i'm sorry that i failed to show you that. and whatever I did wrong, i'll fix it. i'll talk to you all night, i'll work from home if you need me to. but whatever you do, please don't leave me."

you don't miss the way a stray tear falls from jay's eyes, and without thinking, your feet move towards him. you wipe the tears that now fall freely from his eyes, throat becoming dry at the sight.

"jay, i was never going to leave. i was upset, and i wasn't thinking when i took it off. you are my everything, and i'm so sorry that I pushed you away or made you feel less than that."

it's quiet again as jay pulls you into his lap, head laid on your towel covered chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat.

he slides the ring back to your finger, back where it belongs. as he returns the diamond to its home, he recites his wedding vows like a prayer.

"i promise that when it feels like the world is attacking you, i'll never join in; i'll love you even harder."

a/n: i could write abt jay for hours and hours and hourssss mind you ... he hasn't been my bias since like 2021 ITS BEEN ONLY NIKI THIS WHOLE TIME . yet i have zero niki fics posted uh hello!

[kxsagi]

i am back with another request >:3

how would the bllk men try and comfort reader when they tell her that they hate her as a joke but reader believes it because she thinks she’s very easy to hate and no one really likes her. so being in a relationship with them is surprising. can you include the itoshi brothers, kaiser, ness and whoever else you want pls 🙏🏾 tyty

“𝐢'𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰”

a/n: daily reminders that my fine shyt readers are absolutely lovable and worthy of all of the love in the world + more

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, ness alexis, mikage reo, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi

itoshi rin

he says it with a deadpan tone during a teasing moment, like when you steal his fries or call him a loser for using google maps. 

“ugh. i hate you.” it’s dry, automatic, and you laugh, or so he thinks. 

but then he sees the flicker in your eyes. the way your posture drops just slightly. 

“.. .oh,” he blurts, realizing too late. 

rin’s not good with panic, so he short-circuits at first. it’s in his nature to brood and analyze, but now he’s scrambling to fix it. 

“wait, wait no. i don’t hate you. are you serious?” he pulls you close, gripping your waist like he’s grounding both of you. 

he’s quiet, sincere. “i don’t say things i don’t mean. i would never say i hated you if i meant it. you know that, right?” 

when you tell him you’re just surprised anyone could love you, rin’s face changes. 

“... what the hell are you talking about?” his voice cracks, barely above a whisper. “how could you think you’re hard to love? you’re the best thing in my entire life.” 

he doesn’t leave your side the whole day. hand in yours. lips on your forehead. he needs you to feel how much he doesn’t hate you and how much he can’t. 

itoshi sae

he says “i hate you” with a half-smirk when you win a bet or outsmart him. something casual, barely a breath. 

you laugh it off, but he notices you retreat, go quiet. 

he’s not slow, sae’s emotionally perceptive under all that apathy. 

“... you know i didn’t mean that, right?” he asks, eyes flicking to you while he’s scrolling on his phone. 

you brush it off, but he puts the phone down. “look at me.” 

his tone is even, but his eyes are gentle. “you think i’m the type to date someone i don’t actually care about?” 

when you admit it’s just hard to believe someone like him could love someone like you, sae physically flinches. 

“don’t ever say that again,” he murmurs, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. 

“you’re kind. you’re funny. you’re smart. i could go on, but i’d rather just keep showing you why you’re everything i want.” 

after that, he doesn’t just say he loves you more. he shows it. kisses on the shoulder. forehead touches. hand on your lower back whenever you pass by. 

kaiser michael

he says it dramatically, mid-argument over something dumb like who left the toothpaste cap off. 

“ugh, i hate you.” paired with the most flamboyant eye-roll. 

you try to laugh, but your voice wavers. and he clocks it instantly. 

“liebling?” he calls, voice dropping all theatrics. 

when you hesitate, he goes from 100 to 0 in two seconds. arms already around you. 

“hey. hey, no. i was joking. i thought we were being dramatic together.” 

and when you say, “it’s fine. i get it. i wouldn’t like me either,” his whole world flips. 

“what the fuck?” he says, not out of anger, but sheer heartbreak. 

“baby, who told you that? who made you believe that?” 

he cups your cheeks and leans in, forehead pressed to yours. 

“you’re literally the only person on this earth who can put up with me. of course i like you. love you.” 

for the next few weeks he’s overly sweet. he sings cheesy songs to you, buys you flowers, tells ness to remind you every hour that kaiser thinks you're amazing. 

ness alexis

he says “i hate you” in a joking whine when you won’t let him pick the movie or steal the last cookie. 

he doesn’t expect it to land. you always laugh. 

but this time, he sees you shrink. 

“noooo, nonono, i’m sorry!! i didn’t mean it!” he throws himself dramatically on top of you. 

you try to laugh it off, but he sits up, real concern on his face. 

“... did that really hurt your feelings?” 

when you nod, even a little, ness pulls you into the biggest hug possible. 

“you’re my favorite person in the entire universe,” he mumbles into your shoulder. “don’t ever think otherwise.” 

when you admit that sometimes it’s just hard to believe someone could like you, he grips your hands. 

“you’re funny, and warm, and thoughtful, and you give the best hugs. i’d be lost without you, okay?” 

you get a whole night of comfort snacks, kisses, and cuddles while he reassures you in five different languages (he googled them). 

mikage reo

says “ugh, i hate you” after you tease him about being rich or wearing expensive moisturizer. 

when you don’t react, he blinks. pauses. “wait. baby?” 

he gets serious fast. drops the playful persona. 

when you confess you thought he might mean it, his expression falters. 

“you know how many people love me for my money or my name?” he says, tone serious. “but you love me for me. that means everything.” 

he’s the type to go all-out in comforting you. he immediately plans a spa day or a surprise picnic to cheer you up. 

but at night, it’s just the two of you and he quietly whispers, “i wish you could see yourself the way i do.” 

bachira meguru

jokes “i hate you” when you prank him or make fun of his monster drawings. 

you laugh, but your face tightens just enough for him to notice. 

“... wait. wait. do you think i meant that?” 

when you shrug, he gets really quiet. 

“hey.” he hugs you so tight, it’s like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “i don’t hate you. i love you. i love you so much it freaks me out sometimes.” 

he pulls you into his lap and holds your face. “you’re not hard to love. you’re the easiest thing i’ve ever loved.” 

he’ll paint you a picture the next day. it says “i love you, silly” with a monster giving you a flower. 

shidou ryusei

says it way too casually, like “ugh i hate you” when you block his goal or steal his protein bar. 

but when you go still, quiet, he feels weird. 

“... wait. you know i was messing around, right?” 

you say, “it’s okay, i get it,” and he freezes. 

“the hell do you mean, ‘you get it’? no, you don’t get to get it.” 

shidou’s comfort is blunt, but honest. he sits you down, grabs your hand, and makes you look at him. 

“you think i’d be dating you if i didn’t think you were the shit?” 

“babe, i don’t do things i don’t want to. and i want you. period.” 

then he wrestles you into a hug and bites your cheek gently like a weirdo. “mine. forever. you hear me?” 

nagi seishiro

he says “i hate you” lazily when you drag him out of bed or interrupt his game. 

it’s not even mean – just groggy, like, “ugh, i hate you for making me move.” 

usually you laugh, but today? your face falls just slightly. 

you try to play it off. he narrows his eyes. 

“... wait. are you mad?” he asks, tilting his head. 

when you finally admit it’s not the first time you’ve believed someone could hate you… nagi just stares. 

and then says, “that’s dumb.” 

not in a mean way — in a “how could anyone think that?” kind of way. 

“you’re the only person i like being awake for,” he mumbles, flopping onto you like a weighted blanket. 

“if you were easy to hate, i’d still be single and gaming in peace. but i’m not. i’m with you. because you make me feel happy in a way no game ever could.” 

he clings tighter, like you’re a giant body pillow. and every few minutes he mumbles, “don’t ever think like that again.” 

you end up staying in bed all day, not because he’s lazy, but because he won’t stop hugging you. 

isagi yoichi

says “i hate you” jokingly when you beat him at a shooting game or call him a nerd for memorizing world cup stats. 

it’s lighthearted… until your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. 

“wait. hey. that was a joke,” he blurts, the second you shift away. 

you tell him it’s fine, that you’re just used to not being liked, so it’s whatever. 

“what?” he sounds like you just punched him. “no. no. you don’t get to say that about yourself.” 

he sits you down, hands on your shoulders, looking frantic. 

“you’re– okay, listen. i love you. i love you so much, and i don’t care if it sounds dramatic. how could you ever think you’re hard to love?” 

his voice gets quieter, a little trembly. “i’ve never felt this way about anyone. you’re sweet and smart and you make me feel like i can breathe even when everything else is stressful.” 

he hugs you for a long time. arms locked tight. 

and for the next week, he texts you things like “i love you more than my right foot” or “if i had to pick between you and soccer… i’d pick you, no hesitation.” 

okay, maybe a little hesitation. but he swears you win. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[anyamaris]

Title: Bedtime Secrets

Summary: When you stay over at your friends last minute, you thought San was away, staying in his room. You didn't expect him to come home and find you in his bed.

Pairing: Choi San x F!reader

Word Count: 2023

Rating: 18+ M

Trope: Friends to lovers, non idol au, smut

Warnings: THIS IS NONCON-YOUVE BEEN WARNED. DO NOT READ IF YOU DONT UNDERSTAND THIS-Somnophilia, NONCON(again), vulgar language, backshot, yes the reader is into it at the end but still NONCON. obvs minors dni 18+

A/N: This is for my lovely @sanjoongie because she's so amazing and wrote JK Star Wars for me 💜I've been wanting to write this for awhile anyhow so I finally did it. Also, I don't know if it needs to be said but I in no way condone noncon outside of our fictional controlled environments and all that, and I want to make sure everyone knows that this isn't for everyone. It's for my Topaz and anyone else who enjoys it. That is all. Thank you to @pars-ley for the GORGEOUS banner and partial beta read, I'm sorry I always cut it off on you!

As always @cafekitsune for the dividers!!!

When you had a last minute emergency at your apartment, Wooyoung had allowed you to come stay over at him and San’s place.

It was always an unspoken courtesy that you could stay in one of their rooms if ever needed when one of them was away for an evening, allowing you privacy and comfort.

So when you settled in for the night in San’s room, Wooyoung had assured you that San was away for the next week and you didn’t think twice about stripping down to your panties and a tank top to sleep due to the heat.

What you didn’t expect was that San’s work trip had been cut short.

It’s after 2am when the door to the apartment is unlocked and San makes his way inside, not bothering to turn on the lights.

He kicks off his shoes and yawns as he plods over to his room.

He hesitates a moment at the closed door, remembering that he’d left it open.

Figuring Wooyoung must have closed it for some reason, he merely shrugs and pushes it open, dumping his bag to the side before tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it into the hamper, his pants joining shortly after.  

The moonlight illuminates the room as he rubs his eyes and walks to the bed, hoisting the covers up before he freezes in shock.

The very last thing he’s expecting in his bed is you; half naked, your back to him, your cute little ass cheeks peeking out at him.

“What the-” He mutters before he can stop himself and you let out a little noise as you adjust in your sleep.  

He bites his lip as his gaze rakes over your unconscious form, how your thigh moves up and gives him a peek of your clothed crotch, your bare arm clinging to his pillow, your face calm and serene in your slumber.

He groans as his cock stirs, chastising himself for getting aroused at your sleeping form.  

“Fuck…” He mumbles, contemplating what to do.

Your friendship is close enough that he is fully aware that you wouldn’t be upset if he slept next to you; no, that’s not the issue at all.

San is fully aware that slipping in next to you isn’t the only thing he wants to do right now.

He momentarily thinks about grabbing a pillow and camping out on the couch for the night, but as he reaches to do so, you murmur something unintelligible in your sleep and turn slightly towards him.

A hiss leaves his lips as he notices the outline of your nipple through the thin fabric of your tank top and he can’t stop himself from changing course and slipping under the covers next to you.

Internally cursing at himself, he ignores the protests he’s making against what he’s about to do.

As he scoots closer to you, he inhales and groans at the unique scent of shampoo and vanilla that is you.

He tugs the covers down gently, his breath hitching as he takes in the curve of your spine and the way your tank top clings to your tits, making his hands itch to touch you.

Choi San, don’t you do this…he thinks yet his hand betrays him, reaching out to brush your hair back from your neck as he slips closer to you.

He’s always been attracted to you, and this is the best and worst temptation of his life, laid out before him.

His fingers trace the line of your neck down to your shoulder, concentrating on your face as he tests if it’s going to wake you.

When you don’t even stir from the simple touch, he slowly places his hand on your waist, pausing and waiting.

The heat from your body beckons him, and his dick tents his boxers, a wet stain already forming from his leaking tip.

“Fuck.” He whispers, sliding his hand down the curve of your waist up your hip, savoring every inch of skin before he rests his palm on your ass cheek.  

“Mmm..” You murmur in your sleep, causing him to freeze as you adjust, scooting back a few inches towards him.  

He lets out a choked moan as your ass pushes firmly into his hand, his rigid length bumping into your tailbone.

It takes everything in him to not rut against you, aware that any sudden jostling might wake you and he can’t have that right now.  

Right now, he needs to explore you, touch your bare skin, inhale your fragrance.

He knows the chances of you waking and freaking out are high, yet he can’t seem to stop himself from pushing the boundaries of what is right and wrong.

Finally, you stop stirring and his hand slips down the back of your thigh, gently pushing your top leg forward and exposing your clothed cunt.

He pushes the blankets down further and leans up, his eyes locking onto the thin fabric keeping him from your naked pussy. 

Pulling his lower lip in and chewing it, he slips his fingers against your panties, holding back a whine as he feels your damp folds through the material.  

His gaze flicks up to your face, checking to make sure you’re still unconscious before he slips his finger along the seam of your panties, trying to control his breathing as he pulls the crotch aside to expose your lower lips.  

His breath hitches as the movement causes you to shift, having to pause yet again before you settle.

He keeps checking your face as he tugs your panties aside far enough to allow him to skim his fingers along your folds, parting them so he can stare at your tight little hole as he uses his fingertips to search for your clit.

The pads of his fingers graze your hidden bundle of nerves and your sleepy little breathy moan lets him know he’s found it.  

He swallows heavily as he keeps his gaze on your face, watching for any sign of consciousness as he slowly starts rubbing in circles, the heat and moisture from your cunt urging him to scoot close enough to rub his erection against your lower back.

Your lips part as he presses against your bud more firmly, encouraging him on as he grinds against you.  

He struggles to keep his moans quiet as his fingers slip down to tease at your tight little entrance, the soft noises coming from you making him start to lose what little control he has.  

He moves his hand to push his boxers down, freeing his rigid length and positioning it between your thighs, pushing forward to rub the head of his cock through your folds.

“Shhh...” He whispers as you stir, his hand sliding up to cup your breast through the thin fabric of your tank top, teasing at your nipple as it tightens in his fingertips.

The room is quiet outside of his ragged breathing and the rhythmic damp noises as he rubs himself against your pussy.  

He palms your tit, then squeezes it, moving from one to the other before finally pushing your top up to expose your naked breasts.  

“Fuck…ah fuck…” He whispers, watching your face as he closes the distance between you, his bare chest pressing against your back even as his mind protests that what he’s doing is so wrong.

You let out a soft moan when he cups your naked breast, using his thumb and forefinger to tug your tightened nipple as he watches your face for any sign of rousing.  

He presses his lips to your shoulder as he rolls his hips, each agonizing pass of his cock through your folds encouraging his depraved motions as you soak his length with your arousal.

Even as you shift and let out soft noises every time he rubs himself against your clit, he chastises himself for what he’s doing. Yet he’s so far gone with lust that even as he pauses to check your state, he knows he’s fucked.

You shift against him and the head of his cock catches on your entrance, causing him to hiss out a curse, his hand leaving your nipple to grab your hip and look down between you.

The sight of your glistening cunt is far too much for him to handle and he briefly looks at the outline of your face in the dim light before he bites his lip, grabbing his cock to guide himself into you.

His eyes close in pure bliss as he slowly pushes forward, your quiet sleepy moan mixing with his groans as he grabs your ass and bottoms out inside of you.

His hand flexes on your ass, then slides up the back of your thigh, lifting it so he can watch as he draws back, then plunges back into you. 

He grunts with each thrust, not concerning himself anymore with whether he’s waking you, too lost in chasing his own pleasure at this point to stop.

It’s only when your soft voice breaks his concentration that he looks up and notices your lashes fluttering, your hands grabbing at the pillow and sheets as your face subconsciously registers what he’s doing to you.

Guilt momentarily wars with lust as he leans forward to press his face into your neck, his arm slipping around your waist to hold you as he begins propelling his hips faster and harder.

“Sorry…shhh…it’s okay…shhh…fuck, baby…” He whispers against your skin between soft whimpers and grunts.

“...San?” Your confused whisper melded with your gasps as he fucks you only makes him more frantic and he drops his hand between your legs to find your clit, pinching and circling.

He draws back to look at your face, your half lidded eyes on him as he nods, his cheeks heating as you silently question what he’s doing.  

“I’m sorry…I know…I shouldn’t…I-fuck! You…you looked too sexy…” He bites out, his hips starting to snap forward harder, your body shaking with each thrust.

“San-!” You cry out, finally fully aware of what’s happening and his fingers leave your clit to grab your thigh and pull it back over his, slipping his other arm under you to grab your breast and hold you in place.

He starts leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck and shoulder as his hand returns to your clit, feeling your pussy start to clench as he moans out your name.

“Baby…fuck I’m close-” He growls out, nipping at your neck as you start pushing back against him.  

“Nngnngg….San…don’t cum-in me-!” You manage before your mouth opens in an ‘o’ and you clench tightly around him, your climax causing him to buck wildly and grit his teeth, barely holding back as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

“Ah-ah fuck-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna-!” He cries out, grabbing your ass and pulling out, pushing his cock between your ass cheeks as he erupts all over your lower back as he continues to rut against you.

Thick ropes of cum spurt all over your back, the sticky mess soaking your back and ass cheeks as his hips jerk erratically, his eyes locked onto the lewd sight before he finally looks up and meets your gaze.

You look over your shoulder up at him and he swallows heavily, his cheeks darkening with a blush.

“Um…” He mutters sheepishly, giving you a weak smile before reaching up to rub the back of his neck in shame, his muscles flexing as he does so.

“Choi San…” You can’t help but eye his arm, then his naked chest appreciatively.  

He winces, waiting to be yelled at but you only sigh, reaching back to touch the mess on your lower back.  

“I’m…I’m sorry-” He starts, but his words turn into a strangled squeak as you bring your fingers to your lips to taste his cum.

“You could have at least woken me up, San. Jesus-what a mess-” 

Before you can finish, his mouth is on yours, not caring about the mess as he rolls you onto your back and pinning you down.

“You’re awake now-” He whispers against your lips.

Well, you can’t argue with that.

[daycourtofficial]

An Autumn Courting

Pairing: Eris x winter court!reader | WC: 12.5k | warnings: sexual tones, mentions of hunting

Summary: coming into his role as High Lord of the Autumn Court, the first thing Eris does is make a proposal of marriage to you, something you’re going to make him work for.

A/N: this has been in my drafts since October 2023, I’m so glad to let this be out in the world. Happy @sjmxreaderweek !! This is way too long but enjoy anyway

Eris Vanserra had three soft spots.

First: his mother - a female who spent her life trying to make his better. The first and perhaps only person to show him pure, unconditional love. Someone who did not balk at the terrible things he had to do and endure to survive. One of his most complicated and long lasting relationships where nothing truly made sense.

Second: Lucien. He had a soft spot for all of his brothers when they were born. Being raised by Beron sucked the life from most of them. He watched as they slowly became apathetic at best, cruel at worst. All except Lucien.

Lucien, his baby brother, who remained a good, loyal male, despite everything Beron tried to do to him. Lucien, who looked at him with wide eyes and a big heart. Lucien - his first contact leading up to his father’s death, the only person he wanted there.

Third: his hounds.

Eris adored his hounds. He spent thousands of hours training them, breeding them, and preparing for the next litter. Their kennels were a refuge for him, a place no one in the family ever ventured out to. Only a handful of servants ever got close and they merely mucked out the stalls and changed feed for the dogs. They were the first things to ever truly be his.

Eris had three soft spots. Now it was four.

Your continued presence, skirting on the outside of his periphery for years meant more to him than you could ever possibly know. The only fae willing to talk back to him but keep a twinkle in their eye.

He spent years trying to figure out why your eyes plagued his dreams, how the wind would blow past carrying your laugh. He could never quite pinpoint an exact reason.

Staying away from you during court events was the best course of action for everyone. He knew if he got too close to you, Beron would notice and insist on exploiting this weakness of Eris’s by either a) trying to arrange a marriage between the two of you, putting you under Beron’s control and driving Eris further under Beron’s thumb, or b) keep you far away from Eris.

He knew which one was worse.

-

You had known Eris for centuries, a tenuous friendship due to his lack of trust and your uncertainty as to where you stood with him. Something inside of you always felt there was more to him than the mask he wore to the public, but you could never truly be certain if it was just naivety and hopefulness.

Years of seeing each other at inter-court events, culminated in the two of you finding each other, having occasional moments that left you wanting to see more of him. You could never linger together for too long, lest Beron catch on to how his eldest son’s eyes bore into yours for a second longer than appropriate. Every meeting, dance, or word shared between you two always left you flustered, every moment shared was dissected at length afterward.

One night, while under the mountain, Eris took a risk and found you in your chambers. He had to know that you were okay - as okay as one could be in such an environment. He was used to this environment- he knew how to play the game, how to endure the atrocities in front of him. But you didn’t.

Eris had pushed his way into your chambers, quickly shutting the door behind himself. The intrusion had left you so flustered, you ran to him, prepared to chastise him.

Instead he grabbed your shoulders, quickly spinning you before he rested your back against the door, ensuring no one could burst in without his knowledge. He caged you in with his arms on either side of you, his amber eyes roaming your face, inspecting for injuries.

“I don’t have much time. But if this ever ends, it will not be long until I put the pieces into place to better my position.”

You understood the meaning behind his words, ones too worried to utter the real truth out loud.

He was going to kill Beron. Or someone was.

You knew he was concerned about ears in this place, so he didn’t speak freely.

“I cannot promise you much, but if you wait, I will do things properly. But I would not hold it against you if you cannot wait.”

He hung his head, his long, red hair falling into his face before taking a deep breath and slipping out the door before you could say anything.

So, you waited.

You had survived the atrocities that happened under that cauldron-forsaken mountain and helped your brother Kallias rebuild the Winter court.

Then the war with Hybern happened. You continued your work trying to provide security and sanctuary to your citizens, but it was hard and draining.

The years carried on, until one day Kallias was called off quite quickly by mail, leaving you and Vivian quite confused but not for long. News of the death of Beron Vanserra traveled quite quickly through all of Prythian.

Kallias had returned for mere minutes before a letter arrived in front of you, a second one appearing in front of Kallias a moment later.

The envelope was sealed with the Autumn Court insignia, one that you’ve admired for many years now: a fox curling around a fire. It felt homey.

It was the Court’s official crest - and the Vanserra family’s familial crest resembled it. You broke the seal, reading the letter.

Fawn,

It is my hope that this letter finds you in good spirits and good health. I am writing this as a formal declaration of my intentions.

With your agreement, it is my intention to court and wed you, making you the Lady of the Autumn Court. It would be my honor to serve my court as your husband with you at my side.

This decision lies solely with you. I have, however, written a similar letter to your high lord, Kallias, so he will not feel blindsided should you accept.

Take your time over this decision. I will be busy in the coming weeks, adjusting to life as High Lord, however I will make whatever time is necessary for you shall you wish it.

Yours,

Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court

You smiled at the title in his signature, sure that this was the first time he got to write it out.

Your eyes glanced up to find Viviane and Kallias’s peaking glances at you as they read the letter Eris had sent them.

“It would appear as though you’ve caught the eye of Prythian’s newest High Lord.”

It was no question that you would attend his coronation. Autumn was a direct border to Winter and Kallias had been waiting decades for Beron to die to potentially work with one of his sons on building better relations. He had always hoped it would be Lucien, the easiest and most diplomatic Vanserra. The two had a working relationship and he would be a lovely neighboring ruler.

During the whole affair, Eris’s eyes hardly strayed from yours. They followed you, not straying to any of the hundreds of fae gathered, not to the other court nobility that had arrived.

Just you.

His eyes had followed you as you lingered after the ceremony, finding Lucien just as the letter had instructed. You kept his gaze as you spoke to the youngest Vanserra, giving him the answer to Eris’s letter. You nodded just enough for the new High Lord to see, and his posture immediately relaxed. You stood taller knowing on a day all about him, he clearly had only been thinking of you.

-

You had written back to Eris after the coronation quite quickly, much more quickly than a proper lady should, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Excitement coursed through your body, almost impossible to sit still.

Corresponding with Eris was more fun than you had anticipated. It took a few letters, but he began opening up more and more, telling you stories about his day or some memory long forgotten. Most letters include some story about Lucien, but they felt much more relaxed than the version of him you knew at court events. He even stopped signing them with his full name, shortening it to just ‘Eris’ eventually.

You had made the mistake of mentioning to Kallias about Eris’s intentions. Your brother had been upset at first to find out his sister had caught the eye of a Vanserra - he had never trusted the family, always on guard in their presence. But when he heard the words ‘courting’ and ‘traditional’, you swore his eyes danced with amusement as he plotted something.

Official courting was very similar across Prythian, with minor details changed for each court. For members of nobility and highly esteemed families of the Winter Court, it was usual custom for the betrothed pair to visit each other’s villages. Time spent partaking in the customs of each village was essential - life in Winter could often feel very insular. Villages less than a day’s travel from each other could be quite different, even language differences occurring. Holidays across the court looked similar to outsiders, but traditions held a wide range of activities.

Kallias would allow you to do as you wished as long as you weren’t tricked or coerced into anything. However, your brother would make Eris regret his exact words of a ‘traditional courting’.

Eris had agreed to the terms, but sent many letters about his brother in forewarning and to not take him seriously. Having met the youngest Vanserra on several occasions, you were well prepared for what he might do.

An agreement was formed - Eris was to spend two weeks in Winter before you would spend two weeks in Autumn. At that point, you would provide some form of answer. You had some idea of what you would say - you wouldn’t be wasting everyone’s time otherwise. But it would be foolish and rash to wed without spending any time alone with the male.

Eris was set to arrive in a week’s time, coming to your home, coming to Winter. It felt surreal, not quite allowing yourself to believe it until the male was standing before you. A week was nothing for a High Lord - Kallias’s visits to other courts usually required several months of notice. But seven days still felt too long after seeing him at the coronation. You did anything to make yourself busy - planning activities for the two of you, reassuring your brother once again that this was what you wanted, trying to showcase Winter in the best light.

Still, every night when you laid in bed, everytime you closed your eyes, you were brought back to the coronation, how his eyes followed you across the room. A room full of the most powerful and important people in Prythian, and his gaze never left yours.

-

You hardly slept the night before he was set to arrive, waking with the sun as if it would bring Eris here more quickly. The morning went by at a snail’s pace, the palace unhurried for the day. You had bathed, dried your hair, paced around, tidied your room. You did anything you could think to keep busy, to keep your mind off the clock.

Eventually enough time passed for you to make it to breakfast, sitting across from Kallias and Vivianne’s amused glances. They chatted idly, amused smiles directed at you that you pretended to ignore. You only pushed the food around on your plate, watching the sun through the window, trying to will it to move faster.

“Something wrong?” Kallias’s question made its way through the fog, the only words he had spoken you had been able to make sense of.

“Sure, sure.” You waved him off with your fork, eyes moving to the entryway to the dining room every so often. He laughed, amused at how little you were listening to them, but you had tuned him out once more. Doubt crept in as each second passed, your anxieties certain something would keep the two of you apart. Had he changed his mind? Was it all in the chase for a hunter like him?

As if your doubts had conjured him, he was striding through the entrance hall, his red hair practically melting the walls as he went past. Over the years, you had seen Eris in a variety of wardrobe: deep reds ranging to bright green, a variety of embroidery threads on every piece. He made every color his own, gravitating towards richer, earthier shades. The dark blue jacket that hung from his shoulders made the color seem so new and exotic, despite being a significant portion of your own wardrobe. The depth of color popped beneath his pale skin somehow, unjustly proving there truly was no color he couldn’t make his own.

The piece looked like anything you would find in Winter, but somehow like nothing you had ever seen before.

He had looked so sure of himself at the coronation, steadfast in a way a High Lord needed to be. In the few weeks since, he had somehow grown even more into himself, standing tall and sharp. His hair was much shorter now than it was under the mountain, the weight of that place chopped off with the fiery locks.

Eris stopped before you, smiling as he took you in, a bit of shock mixed in with the delight. Too caught up in your wandering eyes, you completely forget to even pretend to courtesy until it’s too late and you fumble a short bow. His face lit up with amusement, and you hoped he'd ignore it. Your prayers seemed to be answered until he leaned in and asked, “see something you like?”

The question sent chills down your back, your spine straightening. Your mouth became too dry to respond, and even if you could, you couldn’t think of anything to say. This thing with Eris, however mutual it may be, had alway been fleeting - small conversations, loose promises. No matter how your heart pulled to him, you still knew so little about him.

Kallias cleared his throat from behind you, his focus completely on Eris. The males only nodded to each other, not even attempting small talk. Kallias had been on edge ever since the first letter arrived - you heard him pacing at night, sure that the Autumn male was planning something. But those concerns hardly made it to your ears, your brother staying tight lipped about his reservations.

You didn’t think there was any validity to Kallias’s concerns for even a moment, especially not as he stood before you, a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes.

“I didn’t think you would allow this. I expected to be thrown out of Winter.” His voice was soft, the usual sneer or jestful tone gone, leaving room for something more vulnerable.

“Do you take me for a liar, High Lord? Not a good look for a new bride.” The quip sent him slightly off balance, surprise or pleasure at the change in your attitude.

��My apologies.” He bowed low at the waist causing you to go completely still. As High Lord, he didn’t have to bow to anyone. The other High Lords were his equals, but they didn’t deserve this level of respect.

“I’m just kind enough to forgive you, Eris.” He straightened at the sound of his name, the slight smirk enough to let you know how much he enjoyed it.

-

You spent the afternoon showing him the palace and the grounds, noting the amusement on his face at the ice gardens. You showed him the deep blues of the palace, listening as he compared them to his own home, the Forest House.

“I have arranged for some private dining for us. Kallias wanted some grand banquet in your honor, but I shot that down.”

“Wanted to get me alone?”

“Oh, we won’t be alone.” He waited for you to go on, still keeping stride next to you. “There are eyes everywhere in Winter. Why do you think we don’t have a chaperone?”

Eris turned in a circle, moving around the landscape, searching for anybody. There wasn’t another living thing for miles in the vast wintery expanse.

“Can you keep a secret?” He nodded, leaning his face closer to yours. You did the same, leaning up on your toes to meet him. You lowered your voice, soft as the snow fall. “It’s the animals.”

“The animals?” A mixture of shock and delight came across his face, a hint of disbelief as well. You nodded, not elaborating further. As far as you could tell, the animals in Winter were vastly different from the animals of other courts. They were larger, better at hiding, and were connected to Kallias somehow. You had tried for years to get him to explain it - why arctic foxes lingered at the palace doors, hares burrowed beneath every window. He always stayed tight-lipped about it, but he always knew things he shouldn’t. He was always the first to know your business, even if you never told him.

“I don’t really get it, but they like my brother.”

Eris followed as you led him to the west side of the palace. Light snow fell, crunching beneath your feet as you made your way down the path to the stables. You finally reached the surprise the servants had set up - a massive sleigh fronted by a team of large reindeer, stocked with blankets and food.

“What is this?”

“Our chariot.”

Eris looked over the sled, the reindeer all standing at attention, dark fur accented with lush garlands.

“Couldn’t we just winnow?”

“Yes, but where’s the fun in that?”

He huffed, his breath visible in the air. He followed you into the sleigh, his body pressing close to yours. You let out a low whistle, the reindeer taking off quickly. Eris fell back into the seat, unprepared for the quick takeoff. Your hand covered your mouth, trying to hide the laugh that escaped, but you knew he heard it from the way he looked over at you.

His magic made a warm bubble around the two of you, blocking out the wind as the reindeer picked up a good pace. The sleigh glided across the snow, making fresh tracks as it moved. Eris looked around, trying to find any hint as to where the two of you were heading off to.

“What are we waiting for?”

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

He studied you then, really focusing on you. You did the same, studying how much he contrasted the wintry landscape passing behind. His blue coat helped him blend in somewhat, but he stood out too much from the ice and snow to ever be able to fully hide.

“Have you ever been to Winter?” Your voice was louder, trying to be heard over the wind. You’ve seen him in Winter three or four times, the Vanserras never lingering long, only here to discuss things related to the border. Your father despised having them around, always tense in the days leading up to their arrival. But you wanted to hear it from him, wanted to know what your home was like to an outsider.

“Officially or unofficially?”

“Both.”

He leaned back on the seat, stretching out his long legs in the sleigh, his body still touching yours but not encroaching on your space.

“Officially, a handful of times. Unofficially, a few dozen times. I’ve snooped around the border a time or two.”

“To see the sights? Or do something a bit more?”

He gave a sharp look, some debate happening behind his eyes on how much to tell.

“I’d be lying if I said the land on the border between our courts was anything less than spectacular.”

You had never been so far north as the seasonal courts, but the lands connecting Summer, Winter, and Autumn were quite the sight. A blend of all three courts, a beautiful lake laid in the middle of the tricourt border. The wind blew falling leaves and soft snow across the water, but somehow the air was the perfect temperature to go swimming. It was a beautiful spot, popular with travelers.

“My excursions were less than savory.” His face was grim now, hard set with bad memories. Your breath hitched at how quickly the conversation had turned. It’s not too surprising to know Eris has snuck across the border - you have snuck off into Summer a time or two, emboldened by youth and recklessness.

But a few years ago, someone had done something so heinous the memory still made you gag.

“Have you ever harmed one of Winter’s citizens?” It still wasn’t known who killed those children, their deaths still a heavy tragedy for your court. Their wailing parents could be heard across the court. Your brother had long suspected the High Lord of the Night Court of it, but he had no leads.

“No. Mostly a neutral meeting site for discussions.” He seemed less than forthcoming, not wanting to linger too long, but willing to answer any questions you had. You only had one last question, needing it answered before letting this subject die.

“Did you have any involvement with the children?” You didn’t have to specify, you knew he’d know what you were referring to.

“No. I would never.” Relief washed over you. He seemed open in a way you’ve never seen before. You wanted to see more of it, let him tell you who he is in his own words.

The sled started slowing down at your whistle, halting in the middle of a barren field. The dark sky stretched on for miles, filled with galaxies of stars too numerous to count and too small to quantify. You unfolded the blanket, draping it across both of your laps, before opening the picnic basket. You passed him a small mug, filling it with hot chocolate from an enchanted kettle.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.” You tried for a more hopeful tone, the lilt in your voice asking to move on from the tragedy. He thought it over seriously for a few moments, watching the steam from his mug dissipate before settling on something.

“I have twelve hounds, all named after ingredients in pumpkin pie or apple varieties.”

“You have hounds?” He nodded, allowing you to continue. “I’ve only seen hounds from afar around here. In Winter, they work either with hunting or guardians. I’ve heard in Day it’s popular to keep them as pets. Are yours more pet or worker?”

“Anyone else, I’d say they’re workers. But in the interest of honesty, they are more pet.”

The mug of hot chocolate in your hands was the only thing keeping you from squealing in delight.

“Do you spoil them?”

“No.” You eyed him skeptically, not accepting his answer. “Okay, fine. I spoil them. But I make them work for it.”

“That’s so sweet. I’m sure they all love you.”

He didn’t respond, but you were sure it was the truth. You couldn’t imagine any being not falling in love with him, especially after spending years with him.

You slowly leaned into him, trying to soak up all his warmth. He turned, his face only inches from yours. His nose was a hair away from bumping into yours. Amber eyes flicked down to your lips and back up, but he stayed where he was.

You pushed back from him, catching the glimpse of color from behind his head, telling him to look up.

The sky above you, previously pitch black, slowly allowed streaks of green and light blue to ribbon across its landscape. The sky was a living painting, bright hues stretching across the blank canvas. The movements seemed random, smooth strokes looking for a place to rest. Every stroke looked intentional, every color carefully picked to complement the ones around it.

The hundreds of times you had seen it before didn’t matter - each time was brand new, never looking the same as the last. Eris was quiet beside you, the silence stretching up to the sky in appreciation of its beauty.

For a long time, neither of you say anything, but Eris’s hand slowly moved closer - first resting next to yours, each finger slowly and gently making contact, until he was holding your hand in his, gazing at this new beauty to bask in.

You smiled to the sky, thankful for whatever reason it was here. It would be the first thing the two of you would share, your shared focus on the same thing. The whole ride home would be devoted to talking about it, sharing feelings and observations, but now the two of you stared, necks craning at something that had stretched across Winter for as long as fae had existed.

-

On Eris’s second day in Winter, the weather was just right for an activity you were determined to see Eris try before accepting any proposals. You bundled yourself up, donning several layers beneath a coat before you bounced down the hallway. His room was several doors down from yours at Kallias’s input no doubt, but it gave you an extra moment to smooth out any wrinkles in your coat.

Deep blue skies filled the windows you passed, the day outside exceedingly bright. It was springtime in Winter, one of the warmer days that brought fae outdoors in droves, but your intended destination would be quite cold.

Your knock on his door was quick, three taps before his face greeted you.

“You’re quite chipper this morning,” he greeted.

You beamed, excitement for the day coursing through you. “It’s a beautiful day, of course I’m chipper.”

You looked down from his eyes to find his chest bare, no shirt to cover the pale skin littered with freckles. A set of two moles beneath his left clavicle caught your eye, before your gaze stuck on the red hair beneath his navel, leading into his trousers.

“I can meet you for breakfast downstairs if you wish to eat.”

Your eyes snapped back to his, a hint of arrogance lacing his words at having caught your ogling. He spared you from any other jabs at your expense, at least.

“No need, we’ll be getting breakfast out in town.”

A surprised look crossed his face before he quickly changed it for one of intrigue.

“Spare a moment so I can change.”

He came out exactly a moment later, not letting you wait too long. He stepped out in brown trousers, brown riding boots, a loose white shirt, and a beautifully decadent emerald green vest with gold detailing. He looked so autumnal, almost like a crisp apple you were dying to bite into.

Your lips puckered. “You’re going to need more clothes.”

“Oh? You seemed quite happy with the lack of layers I was wearing earlier.”

You scoffed, trying to cover the heat that was spreading up your face. “I am a lady, High Lord. Of course I am happy to see a lack of layers in my attractive guests.”

He laughed through his nose, an almost pleased snort at your unabashed comment.

“Any hints as to the day’s plans?”

“None until you get dressed.” He grumbled something as he turned back, leaving the door open before rifling through his trunks again.

“You do know I can warm myself quite easily with my magic.” He found a larger coat, probably the thickest one he owned, but it looked thin in comparison to the large, feather coats of Winter’s citizens. You followed him, standing in his doorway as he spoke to you.

“That’s cheating, though. Besides, your magic could be a hazard.” He stopped buttoning his jacket, fingers pausing mid movement.

“I thought I wasn’t getting any hints until I was better dressed.”

“You are better dressed.”

“I would never leave with my buttons undone. I’m not an animal.”

You stepped aside, walking down the hallway and away from him. His door shut softly behind him and he quickly caught up to you, matching your stride through the palace. No matter how much he asked, you didn’t let up, leading him out of the palace and onto the cool paths that navigated around the property.

You thought he would give up - it would only be a ten minute walk, after all. But he was unwavering, determined to get the answer from you, so much so he wasn’t paying attention to the upcoming view.

“We’re going ice skating!” You declared proudly, pointing ahead at the frozen lake coming into view. Figures glided across the frozen surface, laughing loud enough to be heard from far away.

“Why are we going ice skating, my ice princess?”

The nickname caught you off guard, the title not sounding as stilted as it usually did. You tried to keep your composure, a difficult task as your tongue suddenly became very thick in your mouth. “It’s tradition.”

“Is it now? Or do you just want to admire me gliding across the ice in those tight uniforms your skaters wear?”

A sigh escaped you, careful not to let him hear your laugh.

“It’s tradition in Winter for betrothed couples to skate together.”

“We’re a betrothed couple now?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. You still hadn’t technically given him an answer nor did you plan to until the end of the trip. Everything was going so well, you had to ensure you liked being in his company before agreeing.

“We’re something.”

“I suppose ‘something’ is the most serious relationship I’ve ever been in.”

“Haven’t you been engaged to the Morrigan?”

“I was a child. I had met her all of a handful of times before it ended.”

“So us ice skating is the most serious romantic endeavor you’ve ever been involved with?”

“It would appear so.”

“If I may be so bold, that is quite sad.” A pair of ice skates appeared in your hands, the size determined by some servants who snuck into his chambers last night and measured his shoes. You held them out to him before gesturing for him to sit on a nearby bench to put them on.

“What’s sad is going to be seeing me out on the ice and that will be the end of my most serious romantic endeavor.”

You reached out, gently pinching his cheek between your thumb and forefinger.

“I wouldn’t end things with how pitiful you look on the ice. I find pathetic males endearing on occasion.”

“I will note to never allow you near Lucien again.”

Your own skates appeared in your hand as you sat next to Eris. The two of you laced boots in tandem, listening as a few kids played a game of hockey on one end of the lake.

“You’ll probably be a little wobbly getting out there,” you warned, standing up to help him. You held your hands out, which he gladly took, helping him find his balance on the mat.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Oh, just wait.”

You helped him waddle to the entrance, his body instinctively reaching for the short walls that had been erected around the lake. Eris moved onto the ice, attempting to keep the blades beneath his feet connected to the ice. It was much slippier than he anticipated, his feet moving at an odd angle before he quickly moved back to grip the wall once more. His eyes met yours, your face barely able to contain your grin. Your eyes shone with delight, your tone laced with wicked amusement as you held out your hands.

“Forgive me, High Lord. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a skating prodigy.”

His jaw tightened at the jab, annoyance simmering beneath his skin. Everyone else on the ice made it look easy, skating past the High Lord in pairs. One male even did a jump right in front of him.

If there was one thing that would never change about Eris, it was that he was a sore loser if he wasn’t automatically good at something.

A skater passed by, ice shavings hitting Eris in the chest. It was enough to get him to remove himself from the wall, to move out toward your outstretched hands. He looked like a newborn foal, standing for the first time on fresh legs. You suppressed a giggle, reaching out for him.

He made it halfway between you and the wall when one of the kids from the other side of the lake hit the hockey puck too hard, the black circle skidding fast directly at Eris’s feet. It hit the blade of his left skate, sending him falling forward.

A loud, boisterous laugh fell from your lips. Your head tilted back, the sun nearly blinding you, but you couldn’t contain the joy you felt in this moment.

A beautiful male fell into your arms, looking more like a fresh fawn than the high lord he was.

He clutched at you, his feet giving out beneath him as he tried to find his balance. The blades slashed the ice, cutting and churning up slush until eventually he slowed down, his feet able to stay in place long enough for him to straighten up.

Eris still clung to you, but his face came close to your ear, whispering so only you could hear.

“I look ridiculous.”

“Yes, you do.”

“And you’re enjoying it.”

“Very much so.” A meteor couldn’t wipe the smug look off your face at his struggles. You pried his hands from your shoulders, holding them tight in your hands as you slowly started skating backwards. The shock on his face had you biting back another laugh, but you held him tight, gliding backwards without a concern in the world.

He slowly began figuring out how to move his feet, making short glides. Each sweep of his legs brought more confidence, but his hands still remained tight in yours.

-

Eris didn’t have many courtly duties to take up his time while in Winter. He had spent most of the last week preparing for this, but he only had to put up with daily updates and light correspondence taking no less than an hour a day.

You took him everywhere you thought of: nearby villages, sightseeing, trying restaurants. He was more receptive to Winter cuisine than you had anticipated, but it shouldn’t be too shocking that there was some overlap between your courtly palettes.

Today the snow came down in massive heaps, a sheet of white covering the windows, making it impossible to see past a few feet.

“Please don’t tell me we’re going out to do something like see how much snow we can catch.”

You smiled, turning from the window to find Eris looking down at you. You stood, practically bouncing the balls of your feet at the plan for today.

“I’d never do that to you and your delicate constitution.” A huff escaped his lips at your taunt, but no retort came back.

“We’re going to bake and assemble a gingerbread house.”

It was too early for yule, the ingredients necessary for the traditional dishes out of season. But you craved to showcase Winter in all its splendor.

“A gingerbread house? To live in?”

“Not for us to live in. For the gingerbread fae to live in.”

He only stared blankly, the concept clearly a new one to the High Lord.

“Do you not celebrate Yule in Autumn?”

“We burn bushes and the like, but we don’t make gingerbread.” He said it with a grimace, like the cookie was offensive.

“Well, you can help me build it and decorate it.”

-

A few hours later, when the cookies were taken from the oven, the two of you took a break, venturing around the palace grounds, talking about everything and nothing. At some point you were sure the cookies had cooled enough to work with, but there had been a break in the snow and you weren’t quite ready to return yet. Instead you had detoured into the nearby village, taking Eris to get hot chocolate.

“I promise, I’ve tried so much hot chocolate over the years, but this is the best.”

“Very convenient that they live so close by.” You smiled over the mug, taking your first sip, the sweet rich flavor one you couldn’t get enough of.

“I may have persuaded him to move his shop here.”

Eris held his drink, waiting for it to cool more.

“Here I thought I was the scandalous one of us.”

“It all worked out! He met his wife here and they’ve been very happy for a long time. And they have me to thank for it.” Pride was etched into every inch of your smile, to see happy citizens and watch things work out for them was a joy.

“Winter’s own little matchmaker.”

After enough time (and Eris admitting it was the best hot chocolate Prythian had to offer), the two of you had wandered back to the palace, taking your sheets of cookies into the dining room. Servants had already arranged all your decorating needs neatly onto the table: icing, gumdrops, sugar. Anything sweet your heart could desire was on the table.

“The world’s supply of sugar was dropped off in our absence.”

It didn’t take long before he was sucked into the work, determined to make a grand gingerbread house fit for a High Lord. You watched as he carefully iced one of the walls, applying windows and doors to it. His lines were perfect, a steely look of determination on his face.

This was what this trip was about. Seeing Eris for who he was at all times: relaxed, enthralled, annoyed. After a moment of watching him, you turned back to your own house, hoping a distraction would quell the butterflies roaring in your stomach. You picked up one of the tiny ginger males, picking out the perfect red icing to make his hair with.

-

Before long, Eris’s two weeks in Winter were coming to an end. It felt surreal to watch him winnow away, feeling juvenile over the longing you felt in his absence.

Eris would head to Autumn a day before you, so the two of you hadn’t lingered long on saying goodbye. It had taken longer than expected for him to depart, as if the both of you were unwilling to give the other up for any amount of time. The pull you had felt toward him all these years, the seemingly insurmountable obstacles keeping the two of you apart, and yet a whole day felt impossible.

Life had continued on in your whirlwind romance, but it felt different now. Two weeks away and it felt like being in someone else’s clothes, stepping into someone else’s life.

The silence felt louder, your room colder. The halls you grew up in, the room you’d known your entire life - they felt so empty now, so lifeless without a redhead blazing fires.

-

The next day Kallias winnowed the two of you to Autumn, somewhere about a mile from the perimeter of the Forest House. He spent the twenty minute walk probing you nonstop about if you were truly happy to do this.

“It would mean living here year round.” His arms spread out, sweeping across the landscape. It was so different from your home in the Winter Court, trees full of leaves that are about to shed, woodland creatures skittering all around, watching the two of you.

The air was always so still in Winter, but here it ebbed and flowed, carrying the scent of bonfires and apples wherever it went.

“I don’t think that would be so bad.” You failed to mention how excited you’d be to live with a certain male, not wanting to endure Kallias’s teasing or gagging noises from him.

Your brother escorted you through the woods, your arm tucked into his as you passed through the wards placed around the Forest House. The large, dark estate was tucked away in the woods, trees as tall as the sky surrounding it. The sun was hitting it just right, letting it shine in all its glory, as if even the weather was happy with the change in Autumn.

A servant had found the two of you - some guard, you assumed from the weapon at his side. He bowed quickly before the two of you, quickly turning on his heel for you to follow. You didn’t have to follow long, Eris already waiting in the front hallway for the two of you.

It was hard to decide what to look at - the male or the gorgeous interior of the home. You were set to be here for two weeks, plenty of time to ogle the decor and architecture, so you opted to keep your eyes on Eris. He looked different in Autumn, more at ease, but also brighter somehow, as if every room and background bent toward him, trying to complement his skin.

He kept his eyes on you the same way, likely figuring out how much you contrasted against the earthly shades of the court. You didn’t care, certain he would spin it in a more favorable light than you would. He eventually took his eyes off of you, turning towards your brother, reaching out a hand. Their hands met, slight steam coming off from their touch before your brother chuckled. It wasn’t until you peeled your eyes from Eris to find one of his brothers, Lucien, standing behind him

“Eris,” Kallias’s voice took on a more stern tone, one that had a groan coming from the back of your throat. Kallias’s blue eyes met yours, a silent conversation taking place while he was still shaking Eris’s hand. After a minute of glaring back and forth, he turned back toward Eris, patting his hand before retracting it.

“Eris.” It said all that Kallias wanted to. The threat hidden in the one word, the tight grip he had on Eris’s hand. Eris only nodded, a tight lipped smile at either Kallias’s rigid position or the tight grip he had on him. Kallias examined him for a moment before letting go, his arm moving to wrap you into a hug.

“Last chance,” he said quietly into your ear. You softly shook your head no as you leaned into his touch, the cool air enveloping you in such a familiar way. He patted your back before letting go.

“I’ll see you in two weeks then.” This time he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, accenting every word in a ‘I’m the High Lord’ way. You chuckled softly as he turned, nodding at both Vanserras before walking out of the house.

The three of you stood in silence for only a moment, no one quite sure how to continue on after Kallias’s departure. Lucien’s eyes gleamed with excitement, a smile full of mischief and trouble sent your way.

“Would you like to walk around the estate?”

-

It was an interesting sight to behold - two fae, each over several centuries old, strolling about Autumn with a much younger and louder chaperone following behind them.

“I have to say you do seem quite different since the last I saw of you in Autumn, High Lord.”

Lucien’s steps followed the two of you, his whistling an overt measure to ensure you both remembered his presence. When you had asked for traditional courtship, you hadn’t had Lucien in mind.

“Autumn is seeing a great change.”

“You may speak freely, if you wish. I understand double speak is common around here, but I am unfamiliar with it and find it tedious.”

“Autumn is doing quite well now that the blight that was my father has been taken care of.”

Lucien’s whistling stopped, an almost choking noise coming from his mouth. Eris shot a spark from his finger at his brother. Even though he couldn’t see it, he heard Lucien patting the fire out of his breeches and smiled. Your eyes caught Eris’s, unable to stop the enjoyment at seeing him so happy.

“How crass, High Lord. To speak of your departed father in such a way.”

Eris’s eyes nearly bulged from his head, an excuse sitting on the tip of his tongue until he caught a glint of amusement in your eye. He clicked his tongue, looking straight ahead toward the path.

“You sound like Lucien, my least favorite brother.”

A cough came from behind, but Eris didn’t turn to look at his brother before replying. “Chaperones are merely to ensure our innocence and chastity, not to butt into conversation.”

“Yes, we are quite innocent and chaste up here. No deflowering has occurred on your watch,” you added.

“I do love a good deflowering, but watching it happen to my brother is not what I wish to see.”

Steam practically shot out of Eris’s ears at Lucien’s quip, but your giggles broke him from his anger.

“A virgin High Lord. How noble of you, your grace. And you picked me to deflower you? I’m so honored.”

The High Lord of Autumn had half a mind to forego the frivolity of tradition. Two weeks of his brother following him around was sure to end in murder. He knew you were quite a fan of them, some romanticized notion of courting traditions in your mind he couldn’t quite bear to see squashed.

Your first night there had been enough for him to put up with meddling brothers for a lifetime. He had shown you around the Forest House per your request. He listened intently during the tour as you compared the Forest House to the Snowflake Palace, comparing your current home to what was hopefully set to be a future one. You were now comparing balconies, ones you had shown him on his tour, balconies carved in part from ice in the upper levels of the palace.

“I’m sure you could remodel here with your flames a bit.”

A chuckle made you smile, happy to amuse him over such silly imaginings.

“I don’t think they’d be structurally sound to stand on.”

“Hmm, that’s a shame. A flaming throne room would really make the place shine.”

The two of you moved through the house, wandering through centuries of history. Stories flowed from Eris’s mouth - items that were millennium old, passed down through the Vanserra line carefully. Things the high lord has grown so accustomed to seeing every day he had forgotten to enjoy the intricate details of them.

At some point on the tour, Lucien had stepped away, having to attend to some matter on his own.

“I could show you where your chambers would be if you moved here.”

You stopped, grabbing Eris by the elbow to get his attention. You held his arm as you spoke, the fabric of his jacket soft in your hand.

“Eris, if I am to wed, I would rather spend my nights with my husband. It’s no fun sleeping alone.”

He swallowed harshly, needing a moment before he responded. “Noted.”

“Would that be a problem?”

“Not at all.”

“Then can you show me your chambers?” Eris swore under his breath, the direct question straining his pants.

“Lucien steps away for an hour and you’re already trying to deflower me.”

“Maybe the chaperone was for me, Eris.”

Eris was still staying in his old chambers, wanting Beron’s old chambers completely renovated before he moved into them. His room was somewhere in the west wing, the windows facing a large field that had massive stables at the end of the horizon. You walked to the window, ignoring inspecting the rest of the furniture in favor of the lush green pasture.

“Horses?”

“Hounds,” he corrected, his voice dripping with pride. It jogged your memory - the brief conversation you had earlier about his pack of hounds.

“Do they sleep in the bed with you?”

The silence stretched on for a moment before he asked, “how important is the answer to that?”

You shrugged your shoulders, squinting your eyes as you looked at the field, trying to make out any dog-like shapes. “I’m often incredibly cold during the night and a warm, furry friend would be nice.”

“It’d be a shame then to not tell you that they all end up here during the night.”

You whipped your head to him, incredulity coating your words. “How many are there?”

“A dozen or so.”

A laugh escaped from you. Eris Vanserra, a male supposedly cut from Beron’s cloth who had half of Prythian annoyed at him and the other infuriated with him, had a pack of hounds to keep him company at night?

“This is delightful.” Only a few hours into the trip and you had already learned so much about Eris.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” You leaned against the wall, turning your body toward him. It didn’t go unnoticed when he stepped slightly closer, following to not let any more distance linger between you two. “The other courts think you’re the Mother’s curse upon faekind. If only they knew you liked snuggling.”

“Even cursed ones have hobbies when they’re not ransacking villages or plaguing the common fae.”

The day was supposed to end with a dinner in your honor, celebrating relations between Winter and Autumn, and a way for you to meet more people in the Forest House. Instead you had asked if you could share dinner in his chambers, citing the travels of the day making you weary.

An excuse Eris saw through, but elected not to say anything. He’d be damned to give up this much alone time with you, certain Lucien would make himself known at any moment.

The two of you ate and drank in Eris’s sitting room, not having ventured into his bedchambers. This trip was about you and he’d follow your lead, no matter how straining it became.

“We’ve been on our own for several hours now. Do you think our chaperone’s gone?”

“With any luck he’s fallen into an uncapped well or perhaps gotten lost at sea.”

“I don’t think we’re that lucky, Eris.”

He leaned back in his seat, the wood creaking as he stretched out his long legs.

“It’s night time. He’s likely off writing a letter, waxing poetry about how much he’s missing his mate.”

“You’re not concerned about any interruptions, then?”

“At this point Lucien should be old enough to know better. What he sees is on him.”

The words had barely left his mouth before you glanced down at his trousers, noting the clear outline of his bulge. You looked back up to find his searing gaze on you, amber eyes full of molten want, the air around the two of you hot enough to have sweat prickling at your neck. You patted his shoulder, trying to soothe the rejection before it came.

“Still, he only has the one eye. Wouldn’t want to completely blind him.” You wanted to - your legs practically shook with need. Something held you back from allowing him in fully, to take in every aspect of this potential relationship.

Eris had escorted you back to your room, unperturbed by the earlier rejection. He only waited as you stood across from him, not quite ready to open your door and bid him goodnight. The longer you stood here, his body heat practically inviting you closer, the more likely you were to cave into your carnal wants.

His own restraint did little to quell the ache between your legs. In fact, it made it worse. He was being respectful, never pushing or upset at the space you needed.

“I should go to bed.”

A half attempt at moving, to get your brain in gear, to retire for the evening, but as long as his eyes were on you, it was hard to pull away from his orbit.

-

If Eris had it his way, this whole visit would have been structured so differently. Every meal just the two of you, spending only a few hours apart for some necessary meetings he had.

But you had asked for traditional courting.

So he put up with more chaperoned walks through the garden, meals spent with others, hardly getting a moment alone with you for weeks until you slipped into his sitting room each night, recounting the time spent apart. You saw more of Lucien than you did him, his brother neglecting almost all of his duties in favor of entertaining at all hours of the day.

Eris was on the brink of wringing Lucien’s neck. Watching his eyes pop from his head would amuse him, wondering if the mechanical one would pop out too or if it would stay in its socket forever.

Most of Autumn’s rituals around love and commitment were saved for the day of the wedding or the ceremony itself. Fire night was a big event, but that was six months out and Eris couldn’t wait that long. He had been racking his brain for ages, trying to figure out something to showcase Autumn.

-

The proposal weighed heavy on your mind over the days you spent with him. While you were having a great time, Kallias never made you feel like you had to marry for political advantage. He actually seemed to prefer you to marry outside of it. Your brother desperately wanted you to marry any of the athletes of Winter, preferably from his favored teams.

You were having a great time being courted - finally being allowed to soak in Eris’s company was a delight. But you couldn’t quite say yes.

Eris had told you it would be an early morning and to dress in layers and to wear pants, but it was all he’d give you. You took his advice, layering well for the Autumn chill, lacing up your boots when a knock came at the door. Eris stood on the other side of the door, a tweed jacket unbuttoned, showing off a matching vest beneath it. Dark pants clung to his thighs, disappearing into the knee high boots hugging his calves. He said nothing, letting his gaze trail up the pants that hugged your thighs, a devilish smirk on his face that almost had you pulling him into your chambers.

“Ready?” He asked, extending an elbow toward you. You accepted it, letting him lead you on whatever adventure he wanted to show you.

“I thought I would show you one of my traditions.” You stayed silent, waiting for him to tell you more, but he didn’t say more, only looking forward as he walked. He guided the two of you through the house, up to some side hallway that led to the pasture behind the house. Barks came from the door at the end, either excitement or aggression you couldn’t say.

“And what is this tradition?”

“Whenever my mother would successfully give birth, I would take my hounds out and catch dinner.” He paused, one of his hands resting on the doorknob before he turned to face you.

“Would this bother you?” He fully faced you, close enough that you could almost touch him. You reached out, your hand brushing his, letting his warmth wake you up. Standing in the hallway with him felt like standing in the sun after a long, cold day, his gaze enough to warm your bones.

You shook your head, hunting for game a familiar one in Winter.

“I’ve never hunted with animals before.” The only movement was an eyebrow before his fingers held your hand. “Kallias is really into trapping.” Furs and meat were the two necessities to make it in Winter, most court citizens avid hunters.

He nodded, surprise evident on his face, but he said nothing. He squeezed your hand gently, looking deep into your eyes, fondness clear in his gaze. He looked on the verge of saying something, but only turned the knob, letting the early morning haze in, not quite clearing the lovesick haze that had settled in your stomach.

All the barking stopped immediately once Eris opened the door, the sound of dozens of paws hitting the ground thunderous in your ears. They quickly mobbed the pair of you, standing politely, tails wagging furiously. Several colors of fur tried to make their way to you, a dozen noses desperately trying to reach you. You giggled, reaching a hand out to pet one of them. You’d get to nuzzle one of their heads before another hound pushed it out of the way, trying to get your affection.

Eris gave a short, high-pitched whistle, sending the party into a frozen state, each one on high alert as they waited for his next order. It was almost terrifying how well they listened to his command, moving in tandem as if from one mind.

They all focused on him, a few with tilted heads. He let out a series of whistles, the meaning lost to you, but they understood. They moved as a group, their movements wispy and light, practically floating on air as they moved through the pasture, keeping a pace you couldn’t even dream of reaching.

“How do we find them?” Eris began trudging off after them, following the line in the morning dew they had made. From the front of the house, when you had arrived only a few days ago, you couldn’t have guessed at this large field hidden among the trees, this quiet sanctuary beyond a house containing Prythian’s greatest secrets.

“We follow as best we can. They’ll let us know when they find something.” A large crossbow was hung across his shoulder, not quite sure how you had missed it beforehand. It covered the muscles of his back, showing off his broad shoulders.

“What sort of expectations are there for the Lady of Autumn?” You had briefly met the previous one on this trip, Eris’s mother graciously inviting you for afternoon tea. You spoke for an hour with her, charmed by her while also being moderately terrified of her.

A woman married to Beron for centuries certainly had some skeletons in her own closet. You hadn’t thought to ask about her duties as Lady of the court, but rather mostly about Eris.

“There are a few, first and foremost being at court events.” Something you had expected - it would be silly to have a title and never be seen by the public. “My mother has her own passions and hobbies that take up her time, I don’t expect anyone,” he sent you a pointed look, “to do exactly as she does. Be present, be someone Autumn recognizes. Represent Autumn and see dignitaries from other courts. Other than that, it’s how much or how little sway she wishes to have.”

“Would I have to wear all green and red?” He laughed, the sound disturbing some roosting birds nearby, their wings taking flight.

“You may wear whatever color you like.”

“How often is Lucien around?”

“Not very. He comes usually for a day at a time, if that. He’s only here so frequently because he jumped at the chance to be a thorn in my side.”

Barks came from up ahead, the whole pack in an uproar, clearly catching the scent of something.

Eris grabbed your hand, the two of you running to catch whatever it was they found. You felt giddy at it all - his hand around yours, running through the trees. You felt so much younger and freer as the wind blew through your hair.

Could this be life with Eris?

-

The dogs had been unsuccessful. Eris did not want to admit it, but you were certain it had to do with how many questions you asked him, the chatter enough to scare off any nearby game, no matter the lead the dogs had on you.

The two of you spent the entire day outside, trying to find anything worthwhile, only calling it a day as the sun began to set. You had trudged back to the Forest House, unsure what you wanted more: a good meal or a long hot shower. Stepping inside, the house smelled divine - rich, fragrant foods that had your mouth watering.

The cooks must have heard your dilemma and answered for you. The two of you sat and ate, not much to say, too exhausted and gross to have anything of note to vocalize.

The silence gave you plenty of time to think. Eris had shown you a part of himself today, showing one of his favorite pastimes, it was only fair you did the same.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” It was the first thing you had said since coming inside, waiting until Eris was walking you to your chambers to ask it. The question clearly caught him off guard, his head lightly shaking in surprise.

“Of course.”

A rhythmic ceremony of sorts played out as the two of you prepared for bed. Taking turns bathing and changing into bed attire, nestling into bed, it all felt so comfortable and relaxing. The room smelled like him, coated in a smoky scent so thick it nearly made you dizzy.

As you lifted the covers laying next to Eris, two of the hounds jumped onto the bed, curling at his feet. You laughed, patting the bed next to you for one of them to come closer, but it only invited one of the ones on the floor to jump up.

Her brown fur was soft as it landed next to you, your hand petting her automatically. You curled around her body, an almost crescent moon shape to both of you. You felt the bed shift before Eris had done the same to you: contorting his body around yours, pulling your back flush to his chest.

The room smelled of Eris, but it also smelled like his hounds in the best way. The one in your arms, Cinnamon, nestled in for the night, and the contentment at being cocooned between their two bodies quickly lulled you to sleep.

-

A few hounds had made their way into the bed through the night, rotating as if in shifts to ensure they all got a turn. One or two were posted at each entrance, guarding both the bathroom and the door to his sitting room. One sat beneath a window, stationed there most of the night, her eyes on you whenever you woke up in the night.

Eris woke not long after you did, his arms circling tighter around you as he breathed you in.

“Does she sleep at all?” You asked, breaking the stillness of the morning. Eris only groaned, burying his face into your hair. His fingers dug into your hips, the millimeter of space between the two of you too offensive. He grumbled something incomprehensible into your hair, the words unintelligible.

“What was that?”

“Who?” You nodded toward the dog beneath the window, her gaze already on the two of you. She had a dark auburn coat, her long hair perfect to disappear amongst fallen leaves.

“That’s Lady. Not a cuddler.”

“Not even with you?”

“She cuddles in her own way. Sits near me and I have to stay very still.”

The image was incredibly endearing - the High Lord of Autumn letting his dog come to him in her own way, accommodating her as best he could. It had your heart practically bursting in your chest. You didn’t ask anymore questions, letting the room grow quiet with laziness.

Nobody moved for a long while, even the hounds staying still as they sprawled across the floor. Eventually a stomach growled - yours or Eris’s, you couldn’t tell. One of the hounds, Clove, you think, came over and nudged his back, her long snout attempting to get him out of bed.

It took longer than the dog had wanted, reluctance in every movement from both of you, but eventually the two of you left the warmth of the bed and took a walk in the woods, dozens of paws following you around.

Your remaining days in the court went by in a blur of red hair, warm skin, and explorations of the house and the forest surrounding it. You spent your nights tucked in Eris’s arms, the sweet domesticity of sharing a bed enough for both of you.

Each day brought a new confidence, that this was where you were meant to be, but every day something would hold you back, some new question keeping you from saying yes.

Before long, your shared two weeks in Autumn were up, your last night spent in Eris’s chambers, tangled in his arms and legs. He had held you tight all night, not wanting to let you go even as he slept.

-

A few hours before you were set to leave, luck had been on your side. One of the servants had let slip that Lucien had set off early that morning, some business in the Night Court requiring his immediate attention.

The sun was rising through the trees, chasing away the darkness of the night, bringing with it new life. The sun, for all its glory, hadn’t warmed up the ground yet, unable to fight the cool morning air yet. The cold in Autumn was different from Winter. It was familiar, a few details exchanged. The cold in Winter was dry and bone deep. The Autumn chill clung to you, stuck like a second skin.

Eris walked beside you, a few of his hounds trotting around the pair of you. The rest of them were out in the woods, chasing each other, investigating every scent trail they could find. The ones left behind were a guard of sort, likely expected to raise an alarm should anything happen.

The air was heavy with humidity and uncertainty, neither of you ready for what the afternoon would bring. Once you left, he’d have a busy day, ironing out the details of all the things he had pushed aside the past few weeks.

You weren’t sure when you would be back, if you would be back. Your mind was telling you stay guarded, to not give in. But you remembered Lady’s bright eyes, how she watched Eris everywhere he went, how he made time out of his day to spend a few moments alone with her, letting her come to him.

But now he walked beside you, silent and sure, unwavering as he walked over roots and bramble, a dog weaving between his long legs on occasion.

You bent over, crouching low to the ground and picking up a fallen stick. The leaves on it were still vibrant, some perfect color between orange and red. You held it up to the light before holding it close to Eris’s head, comparing it to his long, bright locks.

“They’re the same color as your hair.”

He moved one of his hands through the air, vaguely gesturing all around. The movement caught someone’s attention, a ball of red fur sitting in anticipation for the stick to be thrown their way.

“Most of them look like my hair.”

“Well that’s not fun.”

“I’m the High Lord of Autumn. It’s not far-fetched to think my lands resemble me.”

You only hummed, marching onwards, more determined with each step. After a moment of pretending to ignore the dog, you threw the stick off to the left when you figured they would least suspect it. The two of you continued in silence, the crunching of your boots crackling through the woods as four legs darted after the stick.

After a moment, you stepped off the path, looking for what had caught your eye. Quickly plucking the flower from its stalk, you hurry back to the bewildered male you left behind. You presented the flower to him before holding it next to his face, pointed so you could see the flower. The bright orange flower flared to life next to him, the perfect companion to the hundreds of freckles dancing across his cheeks.

The flower practically glowed next to him, its petals slightly bending in his direction. You’re not sure which came first: the magic or the life of the land.

“It matches your eyes.”

“My eyes are not orange.” You pulled the flower back, rolling your eyes as you did so.

“Not the petals, the eye of the flower. The center.” You pointed to make it clearer for him, the deep amber middle a perfect match for his eyes. He watched you carefully before looking down at the flower, the orange reflecting in his eyes.

He smiled, his mouth curved in a gorgeous upward tilt. He looked made of the woods, the forest around him bending to be seen by him or to catch a fraction of his warmth.

The crinkles in the corners of his eyes were enough proof you would go to great lengths to see them more permanently.

“So, to whom do I owe the pleasure of your undivided company all morning? I haven’t seen Lucien running about today.”

Eris only looked ahead, picking up a fallen stick and tossing it as far as he could, two of the hounds circling you chasing off after it.

“It seems he found a new toy to play with.”

“Must be some toy to pull him away from any opportunity to bother you.”

“I’m quite skilled at bargaining when there’s something I desire.”

“It wasn’t just luck that sent Lucien off this morning, was it?”

He merely shrugged, his hands clasped behind his back, the air of nonchalance he was attempting not quite landing right.

“I’m sure my brother’s told you I’m a selfish creature.”

A coy smile made its way across your face.

“Perhaps.”

“He’s not wrong.” The look he gave you felt all consuming. Amber eyes peering through every defense, every blockade of yours. He looked down at you, more resembling his hounds on the hunt for their toys than a male. The look pierced through every defense you had, nearly crumbling at the sight of it.

-

You had one last meal planned with Eris, one last time to speak over everything. He didn’t ask - staying silent, waiting for you to come to him.

There was one last question you couldn’t bring yourself to ask yet. It was the one thing keeping you from saying yes. Your last inhibition. It could all end depending upon his response.

“Eris, how are you different from your father?” He had only touched on the subject of Beron your first day here. It had been in an unfavorable manner, but you couldn’t tie yourself to someone without knowing the full truth.

“I haven’t burnt anyone alive so far.”

Your fork fell to your plate, so surprised at Eris’s words all of your senses stopped working. You knew Beron was a cruel man, but the extent of the harm he was producing in his court was unknown.

“That’s diabolical.”

Eris put his fork down softly, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“Forgive me, it’s a question I am asked over and over again, even by myself. It’s a bit frustrating.”

His hand reached across the table, holding yours softly. His eyes were molten amber as they looked at you, honesty pouring out of them.

“I fear becoming like my father. I fear it’s inevitable. That is why I wish to keep people around me who will keep me in check. Lucien does a decent job, but he’s an emissary. He’s not always around. My mother wishes to spend her time between Day and Autumn.

“I need a life partner. Someone that will keep me from my worst tendencies. Someone that will keep me from becoming him. Someone that I like spending time with.”

“And I’m all of those things?” Your voice was soft, a murmur amidst the candlelight.

“And more.”

“Well, for the sake of honesty, maybe you should continue on with that list.”

His smile made your heart beat wildly, erratic beats you couldn’t calm no matter how hard you tried. The incandescent glow of the candlelight made him so striking it almost hurt to look at his beauty.

“You have always seen me. And I made a promise to you all those years ago. I know you aren’t seeing anyone else, and I’m a lovestruck fool who can’t help but hope that that is because of me. That you return my feelings toward you.”

You leaned in, desperate to close the space between you.

“And what are your feelings toward me?”

“Ones of yearning and love.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his eyes pleading with you to return his affections.

“Eris Vanserra, the secret romantic.”

“Only for you.”

You reached a hand out, caressing his cheek. You watched him swallow hard, his adam’s apple bobbing with movement. Your gaze kept flickering between his eyes and his lips, debating where to pay attention to.

All along, every decision was yours. You took the lead while he waited, letting you guide whatever this was. He did it with Lady, taking his time, putting her comfort over his wants.

“You were right. I was waiting for you.” You closed the gap between your faces, bringing your lips to his. He tasted sweet and warm, a bit of spice to it. His lips captured yours, melding perfectly to the shape of them. It felt perfect as his hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You almost fell out of the chair, breaking the kiss to squeal, but he caught you, pulling you into his lap. His lips reconnected with yours, more fervent this time. He had gotten a taste, and now he was desperate for more. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you flush to his body.

It felt right. This was the last thing you needed to say yes.

You pulled back from his lips just enough to speak.

“There’s one last thing I need to know before I can make up my mind.”

“Anything.” Looking into his eyes, you felt the truth to that one word. He would give you anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask.

“I’d never marry someone without spending the night with them.” Your low voice was dripping with innuendo. The smell of his arousal coated the air as you leaned in to kiss him once more. His hands moved down to your ass, gripping you tight against him. Too caught up in the moment, neither of you heard the door open, ana mused Lucien trying to look displeased.

“Well, well, well, High Lord. And you mocked me for needing a chaperone. I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re-“

Eris quickly pushed the door close with his magic, forcing Lucien from the room without leaving your lips.

He held you close to him, savoring the moment. His mouth curled into a smug expression, an arrogant look in his eye before he said, “I’m sure I was worth the wait.”

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[sqgeism]

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 i know i'm no sweet prince of love | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; those times that we got drunk ! the look of resentment in your eyes is engraved in his brain like a metal branding, a permanent reminder of what he's lost.

love mail — this was SO weird to write . based off my personal coping mechanisms with break up hashtag author gone through it ( ノД`)… euuurm nothing much else to say #breakupssuck ?

not many people can say they've seen the professor outside of classes recently. it's not as if students actively seek out their teachers often, but fellow staff haven't seen the green haired genius in a while now.

he left only one notice note, that he had important findings in his research and had decided to shift some focus onto it. however he still showed up to his usual classes and what not, it's just he would be harder to reach anywhere after class hours.

and he wasn't lying, but it wasn't the full truth either. anaxa had thrown himself headwork into his workload to both drown himself in a distraction yet be surrounded by the only thing he has left of you.

the lab he built was filled of little details of you, photos, pens you've left behind, a hoodie you gave him one night, and a bottle of your perfume.

staying here feels like you're still in his life, like you'll walk through that door, give him a hug and this repetitive nightmare of waiting will be over. but you don't, and he knows you never will.

it was inevitable anyway, your realization that he was nothing. a vessle holding someone of importance, and nothing else. with a mind meant to decode the mysteries of the world, and had a heart only so he could function. not to feel and definitely not to love, even if your existence proves that statement otherwise.

because the truth of his world is, was that he did love you. he was just fated to never love properly, forever cursed to spend an eternity misunderstood and alone. for love will be the thing that buries him in a grave.

mydei doesn't really know what to do with himself. when he had gone into that relationship, he held onto a hope that it would last forever. but as the life of misfortunes he's lived.. of course it doesn't.

he feels lost for a while, drifting through life on autopilot. of course he still.. is a chrysos heir, he still has duties and a goal, but he just feels a weight in his chest.

the reason he stands tall is because if he ever takes a moment to falter, the weight of his decision will crush him completely. he keeps on moving because he has no choice, for his heart knows his mind well. and that he'd rather let himself dream of the night you told him you loved him than to move to the present. for once, his heart had been wise, knowing this ache would destroy the warrior. and his mind was the fool, forever yearning to be back in a moment where you still traced his tattoos and whispered how much you adored him. because he still adores you, every favorite flower of yours he passes by and the cafe's you both loved, you haunt him. he's horrified and comforted by the fact.

the break up happened last night.

phainon has yet to change out of his clothes, sprawled out on the bed with tears staining his pillow. his breathing is still erratic, unstable, and he's got a vice-like grip on the letters you wrote him when he was a good man. he has no idea how he let everything go wrong, he was just too careless, thought you'd stay even if he wasn't around and look at where it got him.

he can barely read the papers anymore, his fingers have crumpled the letters beyond comprehension and the tears made the ink bleed together. it feels like the walls are closing in and he's hoping it gets to him soon, his heart his heavy, his eyes burn, and he feels so weak. the night prior, when he hugged you before taking you home, it was half-assed. just wrapped an arm around you and squeezed lightly, but now there's nothing he wouldn't give up to go back to that time and hold you in the way you deserved.

because you deserved the world, and so much more than that. phainon regrets only ever aiming to give you the stars, because you had your own constellation in your eyes. you didn't want what you already had, you just wanted him.

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[ginandvodka-riley]

Keep dancing my love

Pairing: Ghost x 141!Reader

Synopsis: Ghost felt in love with the wrong person, a good woman that wasn't good for him. After the grief of a broken heart and feeling like he wasn't worth of being loved, he finally noticed you, dancing and sparkling like a shooting star, making his heart to feel alive again.

Maybe his dreams of love aren't so lost after all.

Cw: Pure fluff, hurt/comfort, intrusive thoughts, reader's callsign is "Firefly", Simon needs and deserves to be loved :( Bad British and Scottish accent.

Word count: 4.5k, One-Shot

Simon knew from the start that that relationship didn't have a future. He knew it, and even so he tried and believed with all his will that things could change.

They didn't.

Lilia, the woman who stole his heart. He really liked her and cared about her even though they weren't in the same team, didn't go on missions together for not once. They just met one day at base while training, the gym was crowded with soldiers and the moment he wanted to use a weight machine she was already there, so they agreed to share.

It wasn't a big deal, just two soldiers training like the rest. However, Lilia was a very social woman, extroverted and fun. He already knew her; it was his job as a Lieutenant and SAS soldier. She was also a Lieutenant, recently ascended, skilled, intelligent and brave, one of the best soldiers around the base.

But that's all, he didn't care about anything else, while she was efficient and knew how to protect herself and the others he didn't need to know more.

That day things changed.

As the congenial woman she was she started a small chat with him, not in an insistent way, he wasn't crazy or stupid, she knew the big intimating Ghost wasn't rude but wasn’t open neither.

Maybe that was what caught his attention, her vibrant personality and her mature behavior, but since that moment something began to be cooked inside his chest.

It started with casual chats in the training room and the mess hall. Soon it escalated to share messages every day that ended up in little flirting.

That was when he knew he was messed up.

He passed from thinking he was a good soldier to feel how his hands started to sweat every time she was near.

But he could control it. Really. Simon Riley was the damn Ghost, the terror itself in the battlefield, enemies trembled just by hearing his name. So, trying to hold back his feelings shouldn't be a big deal.

And at first it wasn't. It was a little crush after all.

Until one day she decided to take a step forward.

"Ghost, I'm going to be honest. I like you, and I know that you like me too."

Straight as always, straight to the point.

He froze for half a second, feeling caught like a deer in headlights. He really thought he was doing a good job hiding his feelings.

Poor silly man.

His heart skipped a beat and for a second, seeing that smile of hers, he swore he could hear little bells around them, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he deserved to be loved too.

“However…” And with that word the bells stopped abruptly, his heart was squeezed inside his chest. Of course he didn’t deserve something more, not with a good woman as her. “That’s all, I just like you, as a man and a friend, nothing more.”

He didn’t move or speak, after all he didn’t know how to feel about that. Was it something good? A bad thing? He could feel his hands trembling and his temperature decreasing, it was like a battle where it was impossible to know who would win since there wasn’t a war to start with.

“It’s okay.” He didn’t how but finally he managed to speak, with his voice deeper than normal since his throat was suddenly dry and tight. “We can still be friends.” He took the last sip of his bourbon and stood up, ready to leave. However, she took his hand softly, stopping him.

“Wait…” Ghost looked at her with his typical neutral expression, but you could see deep inside those chocolate eyes the pain that he was consuming him from the inside. “I was thinking, what about being friends with benefits?”

For a moment he felt as if the world around freeze in the moment, without being able to react or think straight.

Did he hear right? Friends with benefits?

He’s never been the type of person to form casual relationships, it was everything or nothing, no middle grounds. If he loved someone he really did, with heart and soul, and maybe he wasn’t in love right now, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to, because he really wanted to be something more.

It was not just a question of love; it was about respect too. Respect to her and to himself, how could he respect her if he only gave her half terms and half of himself? She deserved more, something special.

And the most important thing: trust.

A relationship needs trust, the security of knowing that your partner will be there for you, will love you and give you the same you give in return. Equality. And as someone who was scared deep in his soul, with a lot of nightmares and a past haunting him, he needed someone which he could trust completely, someone with whom he could feel safe, at home. Being in a half-hearted relationship would never give him what he really needed.

And still, something inside him wanted to try it, to hang on dreams of a future where they’d be something more, hoping that someday she loved him truthfully. After all, Lilia was a good woman, mature and with a good heart, maybe that would be enough for now to have hope for love.

Or maybe he just wanted to try because deep inside he knew he didn't deserve something more.

“Fine.” A single word, short and direct, accepting that deal with her.

That was the day when they started a casual relationship, in theory they could be with other people, but neither of them did it. Lilia was satisfied with him, she felt attracted to him and he was an excellent lover. Ghost, on the other hand, as the sweet lover he was, even when he had permission to be with other women he didn’t want to, not when he was a gentleman that respected her.

And especially, not when day by day he began to fall in love more and more. He didn’t have eyes for anyone else.

Simon Riley was a gentleman, a traditional man that gave flowers on random days, kissed his lover’s hand and treat her as a queen.

But above all, Simon Riley had a sensitive heart, of those that were one in a million. He didn’t care about people’s appearance; he didn’t need it to feel attracted but rather the personality. If someone’s way of being connected with him then he gave way to start a relationship, whether for love or friendship, and, in case he took the first step, once that he felt attraction for the person’s psyche then the physical attraction came too.

Reaching that point, falling in love was inevitable.

For him love was intense, sweet and sincere, unable to cheat, and like a flower with proper care, eternal.

Unfortunately, Lilia didn’t feel the same.

She appreciated and respected him, the attraction was still there, but she couldn’t offer something more,  not because she didn’t want to, if it were up to her she’d commit to something more than just friends with benefits, but because she didn’t love him in a romantic way, and love cannot be forced.

While he brought the moon and the whole solar system to her, she could only offer him her body, company and admiration for him in exchange.

For almost five months they were in that situationship, having intimacy from time to time and hanging out as simple friends, until one day the inevitable happened.

Lilia fell in love finally, not with him but with another man.

A civil neighbor of hers, as attentive as Simon but with a different personality. And maybe that was what attracted her, not because he was better than Simon, she’d never dare to compare them as if it was a competition, that man was simply different, there was something in him that lit that flame in her heart that Simon never could not even with all the love he gave her.

The affection and respect that she felt for him finally led her to end that relationship, trying to be as gentle as possible to not to hurt him, although she wasn’t aware about the feelings he felt towards her, she knew that he’d get hurt anyway, and what she least wanted was hurting him.

To give him his own space to heal, Lilia walked away from him, becoming strangers again like that afternoon in the training room.

That’s how thar beautiful woman left as she came.

And that’s how Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley was alone again, with the difference that this time his heart was broken and craving to feel the gentleness of a pair of hands that would touch him from time to time, of soft words when he was naked and the warmth that remained in bed after the act.

That was on the things he missed the most, although they always intimated in near hotels and never in base or in the house of any of them, that sensation of laying in a warm bed was comforting, and every time he went to cover themselves with those warm blankets he longed for them to be his own bed, that it feel that way every night he went to sleep, be able to hug her until they both felt asleep.

Complete intimacy.

The dream that seems he could never get to fulfill.

Sometimes he cried to sleep, sometimes he lost appetite and ate just for mere obligation. For the first weeks he even stopped enjoying the things that made him happy, like being with his brothers, laughing at Johnny’s silly jokes, afternoons drinking black tea with John, and the practices with Kyle.

He went through the grief of a broken heart once more. He became again that little 15-year-old boy that fell in love for the first time, that young soldier in love with his gorgeous Lieutenant, and became that corporal in love with his co-worker, whom he never could tell her how he felt about her because of the fear of being rejected once more.

And no matter how much his brothers wanted to help; he didn’t allow them to. Not because of the lack of confidence but because he felt ashamed of himself, how was it possible that he ended up with his heart broken when he already knew from the start that that relationship would not last any longer? It was stupid from him, embarrassing for a man in his mid-30’s.

How he wished he could go back in time and not allow himself to make that stupid mistake.

Sadly, life continued going on, time didn't forgive him and followed its own course. Three months passed in the blink of an eye, and even when he was better and wasn't in love anymore, the pain was still there, palpable and real. It didn't matter that he felt no attraction towards Lilia anymore, seeing her still hurt.

Hurt that it was a reminder that he wasn't made for love. That all his dreams were just that, naïve dreams that would never come true.

As time passed, Kyle's birthday came soon, Simon almost forgot about it and had to buy a last-minute gift. An elegant black watch since the Sargeant's died a mission ago.

At least he was still aware of what happened around him and his brothers.

That was an improvement, right?

The day finally came, it was celebrated in Kyle's favorite bar, a little one near the base, not much busy but that always had a good ambience, the perfect one to enjoy a peaceful night after a stressful week.

Of course, Kyle went with his fiancée, Price with his wife and Soap with his new beautiful birdie, a beautiful civil woman that turned the youngest's world upside down, in a good way though.

He was the only single man in the team, making him feel more pathetic than he already felt, didn't matter that Kyle invited a few more friends and his sisters too, the feeling of being broken was still there.

The first hour he just passed time sat at their table, drinking a glass of bourbon he couldn’t seem to finish no matter how much he tried to, feeling that he had already drank five glasses when it wasn’t. Like he was just physically there, but not emotionally.

Johnny tried to talk to him from time to time, didn't mention Lilia or his own girlfriend, just talked about whatever crossed his mind at the moment. The last mission, the party itself, even random silly jokes. For moments Simon let out soft laughs and said something more than a yes or no, but nothing else.

And not because he didn't want to. Hell, he really wanted to enjoy his brother's birthday, be the same man he was before Lilia, or at least don't feel like a pathetic miserable man crying for someone who probably was kissing another man right now. But his poor scared heart was still aching, making him feel useless for some imaginary reason, selfish even, for not being capable of making Kyle know how much he loved him.

Fucking idiot.

"She's like a lil sparkling star, doncha think so, LT?" He didn't know about who the Sargeant was talking about, and Soap noticed it so he couldn't help but giggle, making Simon grumble in response. "Our Sargeant over there."

Without seeing where Johny was pointing he finally knew who he was talking about.

You.

The new member of the team. A cheerful woman that was always smiling heartfully and making people laugh. Mature, skilled as hell, loyal and so full of life.

You joined the team just four months ago, when Laswell insisted, they needed a new pair of hands for the next mission since it was dead risky. And from the start you were a breath of fresh air, almost since the first day you fit in perfectly with every member of the team, even their respective partners loved you.

Everyone but him.

He didn't hate you, on the contrary, he considered you a good addition to the team and respected you. However, he was so focused on Lilia that he never took the time to get to know you better. He only knew your name, rank, skills and how cheerful you were. Nothing more. He didn't even know your age, it was between twenty-eight to thirty, right?

God, he hated himself so much.

He was so stupid that he didn't know something as basic as your damn age or your last name, and why? Just because he was infatuated with a woman that didn't feel the same about him. Those three months that he passed mopping around he could use them to, at least, talk with you.

Simon looked over where you were, talking and laughing with Kyle's sisters and Johnny's bird, and as always, you were sparkling like a star.

How didn't he notice before? Now that he was remembering, you always shone wherever you were, like the damn Belem's star made person. And the best part? That didn't prevent you from being a soldier to be feared of.

He couldn't help but smile at that thought, imaging you as some kind of gentle firefly who was able to kill an enemy twice your size.

Wait, wasn't firefly your callsign?

Damn, how many other things have he missed too?

"Firefly, huh?" It was the only thing he could say, and more than a question it was and statement, after all that callsign was perfect for you.

Johnny nodded while smiling at his girlfriend.

"Yeah, and da story's funny as hell." Simon looked at him with doubt, Johnny laughed again seeing his best friend's confused expression. "What? Not even women save themselves from stupid call names, ya know?"

Well, yes, he was conscious about it, but the name was just so you that he couldn't find any other reason to being called firefly.

"Ya should ask'er".

Simon stifled a sarcastic laugh. Was he serious? In four stupid months he hadn’t deigned himself to even ask her about something as simple as her favorite color, right now he felt like a damn idiot because of that, not being able to just look at her.

He tried to change the subject and began to talk about Kyle and how much he seemed to enjoy his birthday, and although Jhonny knew that Simon wanted to know more about you, he didn't push him and went with the flow.

However, for the next minutes Simon couldn't help but look at you from time to time, smiling internally just by seeing you being yourself.

And that smile...

God, he swore your smile was like a balm for his cold soul.

After about fifteen minutes the music began to sound louder and with more rhythm. Your cheerful smile didn't pass unnoticed by him as you took the women's hands inviting them to dance with you.

And it was at that exact moment where everything seemed to stop around him.

He didn't even care when Johnny's girlfriend approached them and apologize to him for taking her man to dance.

No. Nothing mattered.

The moment you started to move your body was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Your movements were so full of life, electrifying, sparkling. Of course they weren't the kind of one professional dancer, but that's exactly what made them special.

Being you was special.

You danced with no fear, without worrying about the world around you, at that moment it was only you and the music. Damn, Simon could even swear he saw sparks dancing and following every move you made, like magic.

His heart beat fast and deep, just seeing you was like a soft balm made for healing even the most wounded hearts.

For the next three or four songs ―he didn’t count them― you danced happily, enjoying yourself, like a free firefly.

He was so absorbed seeing you that by the time he noticed that you were exhausted and decided to take a break, approaching him it was too late.

In the blink of an eye, you were sat right next to him, giggling and trying to catch your breath. Just for a second you gave him a soft genuine smile before asking the waiter for a beer. Once you were calmer you put out your phone and started to respond to a few messages, and not even once your smile disappeared.

And him? He was just there sitting like a statue, frozen in time. On the outside he looked like always, composed, confident and serene ―and maybe a little too intimidating too―, but his mind was a mess, a total chaos ready to explode, his brain stopped working like a computer unable to find the executable file needed to process information. You didn’t notice it, but his hands were trembling slightly and sweaty, itching to touch you to confirm that you were real and not a hallucination.

He wanted to see that smile being directed at him, to hear your voice since he was so dumb to not even remember it, to know you better and not just because you were teammates, it was a genuine wish.

But what would he say? ‘Oh, hey, I’m sorry for being stupid and mopping around for a woman who didn’t even love me, what if we start from the scratch?’

No, that would be so awkward. Not to mention that he would seem more pathetic than he already felt.

“You dance pretty well.” Before he could process his own words, his mouth worked itself, not even registered how weird that sounded.

You gave him your full attention in a fraction of second, not believing what you had heard. Was he talking to you? Your stoic Lieutenant that only shared with you not more than ten words since you joined the team four months ago? You looked behind you thinking that maybe he was talking with Johnny and you didn’t notice he was right at your back. But no, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley was talking to you.

Seeing your confused expression and incredulous gaze he felt like you slapped him in the face with a cold hand.

Of course, you couldn’t believe it was you who he was talking to.

“Uhm, me?” You asked genuinely, with a trembling confused smile. And God, he wanted to punch himself in the stomach for being so stupid and weird. However, to his surprise you giggled sheepishly. “Of course it was me, you idiot.” You mumbled for yourself although he could heard you. “Sorry, it’s just that…” Your words got stuck in your throat, not knowing what to say without being weird.

How curious that he was feeling exactly the same. Well, weird and guilty for probably causing you a bad impression that he didn’t like you or something like that.

“Never mind.” Finally, you could continue and smiled brightly at him. “Thank you, sir.”

Oh, that beautiful smile of yours. So genuine, so sparkling like yourself, it made him smile slightly, though you couldn’t see it since it was barely the ghost of a smile.

And now that you saw him better and without the mask you could notice how handsome he was. Not in a typical Hollywood way, his crooked nose and strong frown were really attractive, and his scars were like stars decorating his face, especially the one on his lip.

Meanwhile, he felt his chest bubbling and his brain melting just by seeing your smile, wanting to taste a bit of your cheerful heart. The best part was that apparently you weren’t mad at him for being a hermit depressed man those months.

“Don’ be formal sweetheart.” Oh fuck, he couldn’t help but call you by that pet name. “Call me Ghost, or Simon.”

Why? Why was he making himself vulnerable? What were you doing to him?

Well, maybe it was your bright smile that caused his brain to shortcut.

“Ok, si―Simon.” You giggled as you corrected yourself. “Sorry.”

He wanted to make you laugh even more for no reason, just because it felt good.

“’m the one who should be sorry.” He didn’t think twice, he needed to apologize to you, and well, you were making his brain dumb anyway so, whatever. “I didn’ welcome’ya, didn’ even talk to ya. ‘m really sorry.” When he saw that confused expression of yours, he immediately regretted it. If you didn’t talk about it, why the hell did he have to bring it up? “I had a bad time and… that…”

For fucks sake just shut the fuck up, you dumbass.

Before he could stand up and run away to stop making this weirder you waved your hand dismissively and smiled softly.

“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself. At least you don’t hate me.”

“No, no.” He was quick to answer you. “I could never.” And he was honest, he was far from hating you. How could he? You were a good soldier and a sparkling woman, the team already loved you. “Why firefly?”

That was an abrupt change of theme, but he couldn’t help it. And despite your initial take aback you smiled again and answered. On your first mission you fell on your butt into a couple of crates filled with a colorless powder. Or so you thought until night fell and your butt started glowing greenish yellow, just like a firefly.

You couldn’t stop laughing just remembering that time, and he did the same, chuckling at the image of your brilliant butt in the middle of the night.

And so, you continued telling him some funny stories about different events of your life, and he did the same, he hadn’t as much as you, his life was more a tragedy, but at least his dark sinical humor made you laugh.

Little by little you began to get to know each other, and with every minute that he passed by your side he was enthralled by you, in that moment he could affirm with certainty that you were a shining star full of live, capable of illuminating even the darkest corners.

Including his own heart, which thanks to yours, it didn’t feel sad anymore.

Before you knew it an hour passed during which you both seemed trapped in your own bubble, oblivious to the world around you. You didn’t even touch your drinks again. It was just him and you.

Meanwhile, a song began to be heard in the background, and not just any song but one of your favorites.

“God, I love this song!” You eyes lit up with excitement and Ghost felt his heart race as his palms started to sweat once more. “Do you know how to dance?” You asked curiously, although it was probably a stupid question you did it anyway.

Of course he shook his head.

“‘m sorry love, I have two left feet.” You giggled at his comment and that made his hands became sweatier for some reason.

The intelligent thing would be keeping it like that, give up and let you dance with Kyle’s sisters or with whoever you wanted to, after all just by seeing you moving so freely at music’s rhythm was enough to make him feel a new breath of life soothe his soul.

But he wanted more, needed more, he wanted to be part of your sparkling movements that felt like magic, the most beautiful in the world.

“However,” please don’t look at me with those sparkling eyes, “I’ll made an exception for ya, though I won’ take responsibility if I step on you, luv.”

Despite the fear of making a fool he knew it would be worth falling on his butt in front of the whole bar just so you could smile like that all night, gleaming and shining.

Without further ado you took his hand, making him stand up and, and led him towards the dance floor, making a space for you both in the middle of the hustle and bustle.

“Just relax,” it’d be easier to do it if you weren’t centimeters away from him, feeling the heat emanating from your body “you don’t have to know how to dance, just follow the rhythm, it’s what I do.”

You carefully guided every part of his body, slowly but surely, without following the rhythm of the song precisely since it was fast-paced and you had teaching him step by step.

And for him, every second of his clumsy movements was worth it, because seeing you dancing gave him a new fresh breath, full of life, one that was soft and shimmered in the darkness. Plus, your gentle words congratulating him for every step he made race his heart in a bubbling warm sensation, combined with how good your body felt against his, it was the Eden itself on earth for him.

In that moment he felt that meanwhile you kept dancing by his side everything else would be fine. All he needed was to look into your eyes and feel his body moving with yours to know.

He didn't know what future awaited you both, didn’t even know how to describe the tingling that ran through his skin at the slightest touch of yours, but what he was sure of was that that dancing meant that finally a flower would begin to grow up between the two of you.

[subtextdecoder]

TBHX: What do the doves represent? Or any of it, really?

I was rewatching TBHX and omg I saw things I hadn't seen or considered before. There are just so many details that it's hard not to miss things.

The click came to me while I was watching the scene where Nice kills himself. Notice the white doves flying around and then X's image on the screen facing them right at the moment Nice jumps. It made me think: 'So does X really have power over the other heroes, or is he just observing them... or neither?'

But then I remembered both the OP and ED being heavy on the dove metaphor.

Let's start with the OP:

First, we see X throwing each of the heroes' cards.

2. Then, they all turn into pigeons and fly toward him.

3. Finally, we see X in a breach, looking like he's above and below everything at the same time. Then red strings appear, with him at the center.

There are 9 red strings in the scene, with him in the middle, making 10. Of course, that's not a coincidence. It made me think: maybe the strings represent all the heroes' fates being intertwined and tied to X. The strings being red could symbolize not just the 'red string of fate,' but also blood ties—or maybe that they can only be broken by death.

There’s a lot more going on in the OP, but let’s go back to the doves.

They appear again, and even more, in the ED:

First, there’s a black-and-white scene with all the heroes sitting on the throne. The last one shown is X, who gets up and walks toward us—maybe tired of watching all this?

2. As X gets closer to the camera, a dove takes flight. More doves join it, flying above the city.

3. We see them looking at the heroes from above—9 doves total.

4. When X takes his hands out of his pockets, the doves seem startled, like a breach in the system happens. They take flight, X snaps his fingers, and they all start falling through (maybe the breach from the OP?), surrounded by feathers. The sequence switches to color.

Note that here we have an aspect ratio change, the colorful scenes are closer.

5. We see the same places as before, but now: no posters of Loli, her name is gone from the wall, the city looks empty, screens are off, no ads. An ocean of feathers keeps falling.

6. A feather lands on the palm of a hand that looks dead or unconscious. The trust count on the wrist starts twitching and eventually disappears. The hand moves and grabs the feather. So, did they regain consciousness after being freed from the trust's shackles?

7. It ends with a feather landing on the empty throne—now in color—and the light goes out.

We can’t be sure what it all means just yet, but I think the OP, the episodes, and the ED are beautifully connected. Everything feels intentional. For example, in the ED, the aspect ratio changes when the transition from black and white to color happens. It's a clever cinematic device that makes us feel drawn into the new 'world' they've just entered.

I think the meaning of the doves changes throughout. Sometimes they represent those controlling everything, other times the heroes, and sometimes (through the feathers) maybe even every person in the world.

X could be so many things—maybe the first person to awaken as a hero, or the one chosen to lead... or maybe not even a real person at all, but an entity. Though we do see him working in an office and doing daily things. Is he observing them all the time? If so, why?

There are also lots of gambling references—cards, coins, roulette—which I think inspired the black-and-red color scheme in the logo. Is X the one gambling with reality? Or against it? Or against whoever’s really in control?

X’s ability, the breach, and the red strings make me think of a ton of scenarios: death as the only way back to reality... which would imply multiple realities. Maybe he can access parallel universes? The three main art styles might reflect three different timelines. And when X snaps his fingers, can he choose who goes where? If not, and if the feathers represent people, maybe everyone was teleported—along with the heroes. This metaphor makes perfect sense considering how the feathers fall and one reaches a hand, bringing it 'back to life.' Interpreting it as a phoenix metaphor, people are reawakened by the feather — which represents themselves — meaning they didn’t die, but were teleported and are now waking up in a new timeline. It’s as if the feather symbolizes their consciousness traveling through the breach that connects different timelines. The fact that the hand originally seemed to belong to an unresponsive body, combined with the colored scenes showing an empty city while feathers fall from the sky, could suggest that everyone is put 'to sleep' — their bodies remain, but their minds shift to a parallel reality. Or perhaps, the parallel reality isn’t a physical world at all, but their dreams while dormant. While writing this, I also started thinking it's kind of interesting that there are three distinct main art styles. If each one does represent a different 'universe,' then the name Treeman, aside from the logo being an actual tree, could be a wordplay—Three Man—with each version belonging to one of those universes. That leads to yet more questions: is their consciousness compartmentalized into three separate blocks, making it impossible for the person to realize they’re switching realities? or is it not split at all and that's why it appears to happen seamlessly? Some red strings in the OP intersect, others don’t. That might reflect which heroes influence each other—like E-Soul being a fan of Lucky Cyan, or X saving Ahu. But none of the strings connect to X directly; he stands alone in the center. Maybe that’s because all of them are tied to him whether they know it or not. It's also a nice way to show us that X could be the one pulling the strings, in a literal sense. The cards he throws in the OP remind me a lot of Tarot Cards, which could also imply handling with fate somehow.

There are also a lot of references to a stage. So maybe when the light goes out at the end of the ED, it means the play is over. They’re no longer heroes—they’re just ordinary people again.

Maybe everything was in their heads. Maybe they were never heroes—just ordinary people daydreaming about being more. The story videos only show a few characters in the 3D style. Maybe some don’t have a 3D version. If 3D represents reality, were they never real? Or maybe the 3D characters were never supposed to become heroes—but did anyway—starting a revolution that will break the system?

It could be that X’s power — or X himself — is a manifestation of people’s desire for change, to become something more, even to the point of altering reality entirely. You know that theory that says, 'for every choice we make, a new timeline is created'? X might be the means through which people can travel across these alternate realities they’ve shaped.

Thank you @steelenspots for opening my eyes to yet another meaning for the doves: "I'm also thinking about how X strongly has a magician aesthetic, and how doves tie into that — magicians 'free' doves in their performances. Nice gains freedom through death, and so far we've seen Lin Ling gain the freedom to be himself. We know X is the only one who can’t be controlled by the Commission, so maybe he’s observing and helping the heroes find their own freedom. If not freedom, then perhaps the doves symbolize peace in a more traditional sense — each character finding their own inner peace."

Well, it's al too crazy and I’ve got so much on my mind, I’m sure I forgot something here and there. But this is just me writing as I think, sharing my questions with y’all. I’ll post more when it comes to me. Edit: Part 2, but no longer about doves! It's really just me writing what comes to mind.

[oaksgrove]

hi!! i love your fics sm! thank u for taking the time to write them. im the same anon that sent the prince!simon x knight!reader and let me tell you, i love it tons. and so, i have come back with another request.... (too many, actually) what about a sunshine-recruit!reader x simon riley? where reader dies because i am in need of a bit of angst... you can make it fluffy if you wish! tysm :3

-🌊

A Light that Never Goes Out.

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Sunshine!Recruit!Reader

Synopsis: When you joined the team, you brought sunlight to a world built on shadows. Simon Riley, guarded and scarred, never meant to fall for you — but he did, quietly, in the spaces between missions and the weight of war. After a mission goes wrong, Simon is left to grieve the future you dreamed of together. Years later, he fights to build the life you deserved, haunted and comforted by your memory, learning that healing doesn’t mean forgetting. 

Warnings: Major character death (reader), intense grief, mourning, emotional hurt/comfort, bittersweet healing, found family support, soft mentions of afterlife signs.

Word Count: 1748

When you joined the team, you were a burst of sunlight in a world made of steel and smoke.

Simon noticed it right away — the way you smiled easily, the way you laughed like you weren’t afraid of the dark things that followed men like him.

At first, he kept his distance.

You were bright.

Not loud or flashy.

Just… bright. Like warm sunlight through broken clouds.

You fought with laughter on your lips. 

You comforted with hands steady and sure.

You lived like every second mattered, like every moment was a gift you refused to waste.

But you had this way of staying, even when he tried to shove you away with silence and gruff remarks.

It undid Simon Riley in ways he couldn’t name.

You became his shadow. His better half.

A hand on his shoulder after a rough debrief.

A warm, unguarded grin across the firepit on cold nights.

A quick-witted remark that made him huff a rare, quiet laugh behind the skull mask.

And somewhere along the way, friendship blurred into something deeper.

Into touches that lingered.

Into glances that burned.

Into conversations in the dead of night, hushed and full of almosts.

Maybe it was the way you handed him coffee in the mornings, always just how he liked it, no words needed.

Maybe it was the way you sat close enough during briefings that your knee brushed his, grounding him without even trying.

Maybe it was how, when nightmares yanked him awake gasping, you were the only one he could stand near — the only one who could sit quietly beside him and make the dark a little less heavy.

He didn’t say it.

You didn’t either.

It lived in the in-between.

The almosts — delicate, unspoken.

One evening — in a rare pocket of peace between missions — you sat together near a low campfire, shoulders brushing in the quiet.

You tilted your head back, staring at the stars, the orange glow soft against your skin.

“You ever seen the English countryside, Ghost?” you asked, voice dreamy.

He grunted. “’Course I have.”

You smiled — soft, faraway.

“I want to see it someday,” you said. “Not just pass through on a mission. I want to live there. A little cottage, a garden, some chickens maybe.”

He snorted quietly. “You, a farmer?”

You nudged him with your elbow. “Shut up. I’d be amazing. I just… I don’t want to miss life, you know? I want peace. I want mornings where the biggest decision is tea or coffee.”

Simon looked at you then — really looked — and something deep inside his chest clenched tight.

You deserved it.

The countryside. The garden. The peace.

Every goddamn good thing this ugly world had to offer.

But lately, you’d changed.

It was small things at first.

You hugged Soap a little longer.

You laughed louder.

You stared up at the stars like you were trying to memorize them.

You lived like you were racing time.

Simon saw it.

He always noticed everything about you.

“Somethin’ you’re not telling me, sunshine?” he asked one night, voice low and rough.

You smiled — soft and sad.

“Just… want to make sure I don’t leave anything unsaid,” you said, gaze flickering over his face.

His chest ached.

Something old and wounded and terrified flared inside him.

But he didn’t push.

He should have.

Because your next mission went sideways.

Explosions. Gunfire. Screams through comms.

Simon fought like hell to reach you.

Bullets sliced the air.

Dust and smoke clawed at his vision.

He found you slumped behind a shattered wall — blood pooling, painting the dirt dark and ugly.

“No, no—” His voice cracked, shattering something inside him.

You blinked up at him, smile trembling.

“Hey, Ghost,” you rasped, teasing even now. “Took you long enough.”

“Don’t you bloody dare,” he growled, hands pressing desperately to the wound, trying to keep you here.

You lifted a weak hand, brushed it against his masked cheek.

“You’ve got to let me go,” you whispered.

He shook his head, fierce.

“I can’t—”

“You can,” you said gently. “You will.”

Your hand slid down, gripping his glove weakly.

“I’m not scared,” you murmured, voice slurring. “I had a good life and you made everything better, Simon.”

And with a final, shuddering breath — you were gone.

Simon didn’t sleep for three days.

He sat in the base office, soaked in grief, as higher-ups coldly discussed standard procedures — how you’d be flown back to London, buried in a cramped military cemetery like a number on a roster.

Simon stood up — slow, dangerous.

“No,” he said, voice low and shaking with rage.

“Lieutenant—”

“No.”

He slammed a hand on the table.

“She wanted the countryside. She gets the countryside.”

It was the first time anyone had seen Ghost lose it like that — not from fear, not from pain — but for you.

It wasn’t easy.

There were papers to sign, approvals to fight for.

There were arguments, threats, pulled favors.

But Simon fought for you the way he wished he could’ve fought that day on the battlefield — until, finally, finally, they relented.

You were laid to rest on a gentle green hill, overlooking golden fields that swayed in the breeze.

Wildflowers scattered the meadow.

The air smelled like rain and earth and the soft promise of spring.

He chose the spot himself.

And they buried you with full honors.

But for Simon, it wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

He stood at your grave long after the others left, rain soaking through his jacket, dripping off his mask.

In his gloved hand, he clutched your dogtags, now dulled but still bright in his palm.

“You’re home, love.” he said hoarsely, voice breaking the silence. 

A gust of wind stirred the air, soft as a sigh.

He squeezed the charm tight.

-

The porch creaked under Simon’s weight as he settled into the old wooden chair, a cup of black tea cooling in his hands.

The cottage he lives in is small.

It sits just over the rise from where you’re buried, hidden behind a low, hand-built stone fence.

The wildflowers still scatter across the fields like a living quilt— you would have loved.

It took him a few years to get here.

He wasn’t ready at first.

But your memory pulled him like a tide, quiet and steady, until one day he realized —

This was what you would’ve wanted for him.

Life.

Peace.

Home.

So he bought it.

He planted the garden himself — clumsy at first, rough hands better suited to weapons than trowels.

But he learned. Tomatoes. Lavender. Some stubborn sunflowers that leaned drunkenly against the fence posts.

The chickens were Price’s idea.

“Be good for you,” the old man grunted, hauling a coop into the yard one weekend.

Simon pretended to hate them. But secretly he built them a little covered run and started naming them after famous authors. You would’ve laughed yourself silly.

The 141 came by every few weeks —

Johnny crashing through the door with bags of groceries, insisting he could cook (he couldn’t).

Gaz plopping down on the porch swing with a cold beer, tossing a ball for the dog Simon somehow ended up adopting.

Price bringing his cigar and sitting outside under the stars, talking quietly like the world wasn’t rushing past anymore.

It wasn’t perfect.

Grief still lived in his bones, heavy and old.

Some days hurt more than others.

But here — in this little pocket of the world you dreamed of — Simon healed.

Slowly.

Steadily.

The night was clear — stars scattered across the sky like shards of glass, the fields bathed in silver moonlight.

The chickens were quiet in their coop.

The house behind him glowed warm and steady, windows like golden eyes keeping watch.

He should’ve felt at peace.

Most nights, he did.

But tonight… it felt different, harder to be at ease.

The breeze was gentler than usual — almost tender — brushing across his scarred knuckles, tugging at the collar of his sweater.

And for one trembling second, he could almost swear he felt you.

Sitting beside him.

Swinging your legs, the way you did when you couldn’t quite sit still.

Warmth where there should’ve only been air.

Simon’s chest twisted, a deep, old ache that no amount of time could ever quite erase.

He set the cup down with a shaking hand.

Pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes — rough, embarrassed, furious at himself for still being this wrecked after all these years.

But it broke anyway.

A ragged, raw sound tore from him as he hunched over, shoulders shaking.

Grief clawed up from somewhere deep and buried — sharp, brutal, endless.

“Fuck—”

He bit down hard on the curse, on the pain, on the shame of it.

He barely heard the front door open.

Barely registered the heavy steps across the porch.

And then there was Price, he stayed for the night afraid to drive home, — solid as the stone wall out back, steady as the seasons.

Without a word, the old man sat down in the chair next to him, lit his cigar with practiced ease.

Exhaled smoke into the quiet air.

He didn’t ask what was wrong.

Didn’t offer false comforts.

Didn’t tell Simon to get over it or move on.

He just sat there.

Like a lighthouse in a storm.

After a long while, Simon scrubbed his face with his hands, voice wrecked and raw:

“I just— I could feel her.”

A rasp. A confession.

“Like she was right fuckin’ here.”

Price nodded, slow and grave.

Tipped his head back to look at the stars.

“Maybe she was, mate,” he said simply.

Another long stretch of silence.

Only the chirring of insects.

The whisper of the fields.

Price knocked the ashes from his cigar and leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“Grief’s just love that’s got nowhere to go,” he said gruffly “You loved her. Still do. Nothin’ wrong with feelin’ it.”

Simon swallowed hard.

Felt something inside him — tight and knotted and hurting — ease just a fraction.

He didn’t say thank you.

Didn’t need to.

Price just reached over, clapped a heavy, fatherly hand on his shoulder, squeezed once.

And for the first time in a long, long time —

Simon let himself lean into it.

Let himself be comforted.

Not just by your memory.

But by the living.

By the life you would have wanted him to keep holding onto.

That night, when he finally went inside, he left the porch light on.

Just in case.

taglist: @honestlymassivetrash @pythonmoth @kittygonap @rainyjellybear @anonymouse1807 @twoandahalfdimes

[immortalmrwavell]

A Worthy Replacement - Part 3

(Original story posted March 23rd 2023) This story has been significantly Updated!

Written for @bodyswappingandshit/@bodyswappingandshit-1

And finally the whole story is back. I made some very noticeable changes to this one which some of you who read the original may notice. A couple additional scenes were added. One scene was even completely changed and reworked from scratch to make things flow a little better. Hope you all enjoy!

Read Part 1 Here! Read Part 2 Here!

Martin found himself waking up early the next day. He’d forgotten to close the curtains last night, leading to the morning sun blinding him the moment he opened his eyes. He closed them again with a groan as he rolled over, bed creaking under his weight. He found himself lamenting over the amazing dream he’d had last night. In it he’d not only got to see the incredible Chris Bumstead in person but he also ended up transforming into him somehow! It was so vivid as well. Like he could actually remember taking that muscle bound award winning body all for himself. ‘If only that were real’ he thought. Only as the seconds ticked by, he started to remember more and more details from the dream. To the point where it no longer seemed like a dream. And come to think of it… his bed felt unusually small.

After a minute or two he rolled over a little only to find that his weight and size felt odd, not to mention the facial hair he felt rubbing against the pillow. His waking brain swiftly began to connect the dots causing Martin’s eyes to snap open and look down at himself. The very first thing he saw was a pair of thick meaty pecs nearly blocking his view of what looked to be an enormous hulking body hidden under the covers. That was no dream. He really did become Chris Bumstead! And now he was waking up in his body!

A giddy smile soon crossed Martin’s face as he went to town feeling and groping his body once again. Tweaking his bodybuilder nipples with glee as he threw the covers off himself to admire everything he had now. Running his hands along his abs, giving his meaty thighs a hard slap, squeezing his colossal biceps and of course massaging his gorgeous muscle tits with glee. The best part of it all though was that he had Chris’ morning wood! Naturally he just couldn’t ignore it for another second. He wrapped a hand around the meaty shaft, still relishing in just how much thicker it was than his old one, and didn’t waste any time. He was too horny to tease himself or go slow, instead jumping immediately to jackhammering his new cock with no remorse.

The real Chris, in his underwear form, was still sitting across the room atop the pile of clothes Martin had left him on. Forced to bear witness to his own body pleasuring itself. Having to listen to Martin grunting with that stolen voice as he pumped away. That alone was already torturous enough. Yet, just as he didn’t think it couldn’t get any worse, Martin started groaning about how much he loved being Chris Bumstead and having such a giant sexy body all to himself. Chris wished above all else that this nightmare would end.

It felt as though it went on for hours with this imposter furiously beating his meat to the point where hearing him moaning about finally cumming seemed like a mercy. Martin tensed his abs and, with nothing but pure lust for his new form in his eyes, shot a huge load all over himself. His muscular torso gaining a healthy coating thick cum as he couldn’t help but lay back with a huge grin on his face. How the hell did he get so lucky he wondered. To be graced with a body so perfect that he’d mistaken it for a wonderful dream.

The new bodybuilder took a minute or so to bask in the afterglow of his orgasm before sitting up. He reached over towards the bedside table, grabbing a box of tissues before pulling a couple out. He gave himself a good wipe down, making sure to get right in between the ridges of his thick abs where the cum had pooled. It was only as he tossed those used tissues into the bin across the room that the pair of underwear atop the clothes pile caught his eye once more. He’d completely forgotten about it until just now. Martin couldn’t help but let a sinister smirk creep across his face knowing the real Chris had seen everything that just went down. Was that mean of him to take so much pleasure in? Yes. But was it hot? Absolutely!

He pushed himself off the small mattress and planted his heavy feet on the floor before standing with a long stretch. Reaching his huge arms up nice and high as he stretched the expanse of muscle across his broad back. With a relieved sigh, Martin stomped over towards the discarded clothes and picked up Chris, still just a helpless pair of underwear. Immediately he could hear Chris’ muffled voice echoing through his mind again but he didn’t pay it much attention just yet. Instead he just scooped up the rest of Chris’ gym clothes from yesterday. After all, he was still in his old apartment and none of his old clothes would ever fit a body like this. Maybe he should’ve asked Mr Wavell to resize them. Oh well. Instead Martin made a mental note to head down to Chris’ house today where he’d be able to get some fresh clothes and check out that place for himself. It was his now after all. With that in mind and his clothes in hand, Martin promptly made his way towards the bathroom.

Chris found himself getting dropped onto the cold bathroom floor along with the rest of the gym clothes he’d worn yesterday before that Wavell guy came and fucked everything up. He could just about see Martin stepping in front of the mirror with a gleeful look on his face. As expected it didn’t take long for him to start checking himself out again. Flexing his arms and bouncing his pecs joyously. Even digging his nose into his armpit and getting a whiff of that fresh morning scent. Chris was beginning to wonder if that body snatcher was ever gonna get tired of that. Probably not at this rate.

Martin just couldn’t get enough of it. The raw size, power and smell of his body was nothing short of intoxicating. That alongside his gorgeous looks make him feel on top of the world. He admired every defined ridge of muscle as if he were the one that’d sculpted them. Feeling every bulge with a look of pure pride and satisfaction crossing his face. Truly nothing could beat the feeling of being a complete and utter muscle god. Hell being a gigantic hunk of a man was basically his job description now! Here to look amazing and set the standard.

Though before he moved to brush his teeth, there was one last thing Martin wanted to do. He moved a tad closer to the mirror and started pulling a bunch of silly faces that you’d almost never see the original Chris doing. It was so surreal and hilarious at the same time. He did all sorts from sticking his tongue out to a huge cheesy grin and even giving his reflection the puppy dog eyes. By the end he certainly got a good laugh out of it and weirdly enough seeing this face move completely under his command helped him feel just a tad bit more in tune with his new body. It was like showing his mind that the body reflected back at him was really his own now which helped with a subtle disorientation that came with seeing himself in a mirror.

After having his fun, Martin made sure to give his face a good wash and his teeth a clean before finally getting dressed. Naturally he pulled on the possessed underwear first and the moment he did, his mind was flooded with complaints from Chris about having to see Martin jerk off the cock that he stole, shouting about how it’s his body and demanding that Martin find a way to fix this ASAP. Martin tried to be nice at first as he pulled on his shorts and tank top but Chris just wouldn’t let up. In the end it took Martin losing his patience and threatening to toss Chris into the washing machine at max spin for the haunted underwear to finally pipe down a little.

“Look. I’m sorry. But you have to understand how FUCKED this all is for me.” Chris would continue in a less combative tone than before. “I’m a pair of fucking underwear! I don’t even know how the hell I'm still able to see and hear everything.” Chris couldn’t help but note the pungent scent of sweat that’d lingered on his fabric form overnight, now enhanced after having been secured around Martin’s groin and ass yet again. “…and smell everything.” He added with a grimace in his voice. He didn’t even want to acknowledge the fact that he could also taste every drop of sweat and cum that permeated his new form.

“Yeah I get it but I don’t have any clue how to undo any of this. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. It feels like I’ve told you that like a hundred times and it’s only been like a day.” Martin huffed as he fixed his hair in the mirror. “The only person who could turn us back to normal is that Mr Wavell guy but I think he really gets off on doing stuff like this so… yeah.”

“So yeah?” Chris repeated. “Is that it then? I’m just supposed to accept being a pair of underwear for the rest of my life!? All while you get to steal my life!?” Chris was already getting fired up again.

Martin sighed. “Look. I promise I’ll figure something out. But in the meantime could you please stop whining? And stop telling me what I can and can’t do with this body while you’re at it. Until we find a solution, all this muscle belongs to me and I’m allowed to flex and grope it as much as I please.” He reached down and grabbed his dick through the fabric of his shorts and the possessed underwear. “That includes this cock. Got it?” Martin stated firmly.

Chris was silent for a moment, biting his metaphorical tongue so as to not say anything that’d get him thrown in the washing machine. “Fine.” He said flatly at last.

“Good. Glad we’re clear on that.” Martin replied, feeling oddly proud of himself for the confidence and assertiveness he’d displayed. He wasn’t sure if it was Chris’ personality bleeding through somewhat or if just being in his gigantic body was making Martin feel that way. Regardless of why, it felt good.

With that Martin gave his reflection one last look over before turning to exit the bathroom. He was pretty surprised with how well he was hiding his true thoughts from Chris so far. With their minds being connected he had to be careful as to not think too hard about how badly he wanted things to stay this way forever…

———

About half an hour later Martin found himself finishing a rather large bowl of oats along with a small smoothie he’d whipped up as per Chris’ suggestion. As he dunked the bowl into the sink to be washed, he began to wonder what the hell he should even be doing right now. After all he couldn’t just go to work like usual because, if Mr Wavell’s spell did what it was supposed to then, his former identity should’ve been erased altogether. That’s not to mention the fact that he was now a famous bodybuilder.

“So uhhhh… What do you do for money and all that? I mean it can’t all just be… whatever you get for being Mr Olympia right?” Martin asked curiously, not knowing nearly as much as he should.

Chris rolled his hypothetical eyes at the question before answering reluctantly. “I run two businesses that I mainly advertise online. You must’ve seen them if you were a fan. Cbum Fitness and Raw Nutrition. Oh and Bum Energy. Just another reason you need to find a way to fix this. Otherwise I know you’re sure as hell gonna crash and burn all of them. Especially since everyone probably thinks I’ve gone AWOL for the past day already.” Chris grumbled.

Suddenly it all clicked. Martin had seen all that stuff on Chris' Instagram and YouTube. Cbum Fitness was Chris’ clothing brand, Raw Nutrition was his supplement brand and Bum Energy was his energy drinks. Unfortunately Chris was probably right about the last part as well. Martin wouldn’t even know where to start when it came to running all of them. “Alright fine, I’ll head down to your place later but you’d better fill me in on everything I need to know about your friends, family and businesses. Otherwise it’s gonna be your fault when they crash and burn as you say.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. You want to take over my life that badly? Why would I tell you all that when the less I tell you the more of a chance I have of people figuring out you’re an imposter that somehow stole my body!” Chris scoffed.

“Okay. You wanna play it that way? The washing machine is right there, little guy.” Martin threatened yet again.

This time however, Chris didn’t budge. “Do your worst. You might have my body right now and sure there’s nothing I can do to stop you from touching it like a freak but there’s no way in hell in just going to give you everything you need to be me.” He stood firm.

Unfortunately Martin couldn’t force the information out of Chris and it didn’t seem like the man turned underwear was gonna budge on his stance. It was unfortunate. Martin had hoped after their conversation in the bathroom that things would be a little easier but it seemed this was still gonna be a battle. He thought about following through with his original threat until suddenly a naughty little idea popped into Martin’s head. Luckily for him, he was able to block his thoughts just enough for Chris not to hear what he was planning…

Seconds later Martin grabbed his phone off the counter before swiping over to the camera. It was only when Martin pulled his shorts down, also Chris to actually see what was happening, did the other man begin to question what he was about to do. Chris was expecting Martin to pull him off and toss him in for a 1200 spin in that dreaded machine… but Martin didn’t pull him off.

“H-hey!?” What the fuck are you doing??” Chris shouted internally as Martin proceeded to glance over his shoulder while taking photo after photo of his thick muscle ass. Doing his best to capture its size as it pressed tightly against the fabric of his underwear. Making sure to get plenty of low angles that would make it look as juicy as possible. All while listening to an onslaught of protests in his head. Once he was satisfied, Martin brought his phone back up and began scrolling through all the photos he just took. So many ass pics. He could already feel his cock starting to stiffen. If Martin had seen these kinds of pictures of Chris before this whole fiasco, he probably would’ve locked himself away to masturbate furiously for hours on end over them.

“Oooooo… that one’ll do nicely!” He smirked before exiting the photos app and jumping over to Instagram. Upon logging in he was delighted to see that instead of his original account, Martin’s phone was now logged into Chris’ official and verified Instagram account instead! It only made sense considering his former self no longer existed. With a sinister grin he immediately went to post a new story on the account. He grabbed the best of many ass photos he’d just taken and selected it for the story before adding the caption ‘Who else thinks my ass is lookin juicy as fuck today?’ His finger hovered over the post button for a moment, knowing the power he held right now. Then with one final smirk Martin pressed that very button and watched as within seconds the story was getting likes, DM replies and reposts galore! Not too surprising considering he now had over 25 and a half million followers!

It was getting increasingly difficult for Chris to read any of Martin’s thoughts as the latter got better at hiding them. It was scary how fast Martin had learned to do that. But he was able to gather enough of Martin’s residual thoughts to know that he’d posted something to Instagram. That coupled with the pics Martin had just taken threw Chris into a panicked spiral. “Oh no no no! What the hell did you just do!?” He shouted in a panic.

Martin didn’t say a word. He simply opened up the story again and lowered the phone in front of his crotch so that Chris could see for himself. Needless to say he was absolutely mortified to see an admittedly rather alluring picture of his thick muscle ass posted on social media for everyone to drool over!! There were already messages flooding in, mainly from gay men, thirsting over how incredible his ass looked. After a moment or two of shock, Chris went ballistic! Screaming and threatening Martin to take it down right away but the man now in possession of his body was completely unfazed by his madness. Instead he opted to set up an old tripod he hadn’t used in ages before opening his camera app once again and placing his phone on said tripod.

The hulking man took a few steps back after hitting the record button, making sure that his full body was in frame. With that he managed to capture a glorious shot of Chris Bumstead standing in only a tank top, briefs and gym socks. Those enormous thighs on full display for all to admire. The real Chris was both confused and very worried as Martin spun around to show his backside once more. Martin proceeded to look over his shoulder towards the camera once more with a grin before arching his back a little and bending his knees. Chris could already feel those colossal cheeks pushing against the back of the underwear. However it wasn’t until he began to feel a certain up and down, almost bouncing, motion that it dawned on him what Martin was doing…

“Mmmm wow… look at my ass shake!” Martin chuckled as he proceeded to twerk like a pro for the camera. “Fuuuuck… even with all the muscle there’s so much recoil to it.” He complimented himself while biting his lip. Within seconds his cock was at full mast yet again at the sight of his big muscle butt jiggling like it was. He made a point to show it off as much as possible, rotating his hips a few times before squatting down a little more and really throwing it back as if he were a porn star trying to make his living.

Chris was utterly appalled by what Martin was forcing his body to do. Let alone recording it!? The mere idea of seeing himself doing that in front of a camera was mortifying! He tried telling Martin to stop but by now he should’ve known that was pointless. Instead he just had to sit and endure it whilst feeling every shake of his own ass against his fabric body until Martin was finally satisfied.

“Now that is a hot video. I’m willing to bet there’s people out there who’d pay hundreds to see yo- me twerking like this. Maybe more…” Martin commented as he watched the recording back, knowing full well that before all this he would’ve spent his life savings to get his hands on a video like this. “So now you’ve got two choices. Either you tell me what I need to know or I post this video of me shaking this gorgeous ass. Simple as that.”

Chris was silent for a moment but that alone was telling enough. “Fine… I’ll tell you.” He mumbled at last just as Martin knew he would.

———

Over the next couple hours, Martin took a crash course on the personal life of Chris Bumstead. Making sure to ask every important question he could think of about his new life to which Chris reluctantly answered. Though it’s not as if he had much of a choice with the threat of his body twerking going viral looming over him. Martin tried to memorise the basics but ended up writing most things down. Especially the important stuff like bank details, passcodes and specifics about his businesses and brand deals among other stuff. But even the simple things were crucial to be honest. After all, the last thing he needed was his new family and friends interrogating him and thinking he had amnesia or something.

It was only when Chris mentioned that it wouldn’t be easy to fool his close family that something clicked for Martin that hadn’t crossed his mind until now. He was so focused on himself that he hadn’t realised that he now had a muscle monster for a brother in law as well! Iain Valliere!

Naturally Martin had seen Iain all over Instagram as well. Both from his own posts and in posts with Chris. And just like Chris, Iain was an absolute beast with breathtaking amounts of mass packed onto his impressive frame. Most would describe Iain as a mountain of a man with a rough exterior but in reality he was just a big teddy bear. And a cute one at that. Martin had fantasised about Iain nearly as much as Chris over the years. In his head he still imagined Iain towering over him with overwhelming size but now that Martin had Chris’ body, they’d be about on the same level. The thought was exhilarating.

Already Martin was thinking about how he’d not only get to meet but workout alongside and be family with Iain. His mind was stuffed full of dirty ideas revolving around the two of them groping and admiring each other’s bodies. Pressing their beards together in a whirlwind of kisses as they rub their bulges together. Martin grabbing at Iain’s muscle butt as they argue about who’s topping and who’s bottoming. Of course it couldn’t happen. Iain was his brother in law, not to mention he was straight. It was nothing but a delicious day dream… but then again Martin’s dreams had been coming true lately. So who knows?

“I swear to god. If you try to put my lips anywhere near Iain, I will find a way to send you to hell if it’s the last thing I do.” Chris growled from below. Apparently Martin hadn’t been masking his thoughts about his new brother in law all that well.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Martin huffed dismissively. “That’s not gonna stop me from admiring that sweet eye candy when I get to meet him though.” He added with a chuckle.

Eventually 11:00am rolled around and Martin decided it was about time he hit the gym before checking out Chris’ place. He finished taking whatever notes he needed before gathering up his stuff and making a quick protein shake. He tossed it all in a bag ready to go before stuffing his socked feet back inside those huge pungent sneakers.

Chris had asked a couple times if Martin could take him off and wear some normal underwear to the gym. Of course Chris knew better than anyone how sweaty his body could get while working out and he didn’t want to experience that first hand when his own ball sweat starts to soak into him while Martin works those muscles. Yet Martin refused. After all, he was still a novice when it came to the gym when compared to someone like Chris. He might need the bodybuilding champion’s advice for certain exercises. And so Martin stepped outside to begin his walk to the gym. A place he’d no doubt be spending a lot more time at from now on in some form or another.

———

Upon stepping foot inside the gym once again, Martin couldn’t help but feel a wave of nervousness cascade over him. Until now this new body had been granting a newfound sense of confidence in himself. Knowing that he was bigger and stronger than most of the men here should’ve given him quite the boost. Yet instead Martin couldn’t help but blush and start to feel incredibly shy as he noticed people looking at him in awe, clearly recognising him for who he was. It was swiftly becoming clear that being a celebrity was something that would take some getting used to. For now he just tried to mind his business and make his way into the locker room, saying hello to a couple fans along the way and even taking a picture with one guy. Surreal.

Upon opening Chris’ locker, Martin was greeted by the spare clothes and towel he’d left in there the last time he was here. Well at least now he’d have something else to wear after the gym until he got his hands on some more clothes that actually fit around this tank of a body. For now he proceeded to drop off his bag in the locker after pulling out his protein shake. He closed it up before taking a deep breath and heading towards the sound of clanking weights and grunting men on the main floor.

Martin glanced around the gym at all the various different pieces of equipment. Of course he’d used most of it before and back then he wasn’t worried about making a silly mistake here and there. Nobody would’ve been looking at him anyways. But now? He could already feel everyone’s eyes on him again even if some of them were pretending not to stare. He couldn’t help but let his nerves get the best of him at first, instead opting to start by walking on the step machine for a while to build himself up. During which he took his sneakers off as it was usually best to do such during leg day… or so he told himself. Allowing the pungent scent from his socks and feet to be freed. Even now those socks were already damp with sweat and they would only become more so as his session went on.

During this he found himself having a bit of an inner conversation with Chris. The sentient underwear was telling Martin to stop procrastinating and just get the hell on with it. Besides they’d already gone over Chris’ whole leg routine for the day so all Martin had to do was man-up and get it done. Chris also made a note of saying he wanted it over with as soon as possible as he was already beginning to smell a faint aroma of fresh sweat which he wasn’t particularly fond of. Just hearing that though was more encouragement than anything to get stuck in and train as hard as possible.

After giving himself a moment to work up to it, Martin jumped off the step machine and made his way over towards the leg extension machine. Come on! He was Chris Bumstead now for crying out loud! He couldn’t let the fear of judgement get in his way. Instead he got himself sat down on the machine after adjusting the weight to the exact amount Chris had suggested. 130KG! Martin hesitated for a second as he slotted the pin in. He wouldn’t have dreamed of doing that much weight before but looking down at his gigantic quads gave him all the confidence he needed to give it a shot.

Though the weight was heavy, Martin found himself managing to crank out two full sets without too much issue. At which point he decided to up the weight from 130 to 140. After that he was finally starting to feel a burning in his quads. Ordinarily it would be a dreaded sensation that he’d have to push through to get the results he was striving for. But right now it felt incredible! It was sore and strenuous sure but it was like this body had grown accustomed to love that feeling. The burning sensation of pushing your muscles to work hard and grow was something this body was addicted to and he loved it! Before long it was like his legs had a mind of their own as they continued to push through the reps.

After another set of so he found himself satisfied and ready to move onto the next exercise and if memory serves then it was over to the hack squat machine. As Martin began his low weight warm up set, he failed to notice how some of the wandering eyes from around the gym began admiring his form on a… deeper level. There was a small group of women behind him giggling to each other about how his butt was even bigger than theirs. Another woman was quietly wondering to herself how it would feel to get dicked down by a hunk like Martin, or rather ‘Chris’. Meanwhile even one of the men was trying to hide his growing erection as he marvelled at the way Martin’s chiseled body strained against those tight gym clothes.

But Martin was too distracted by the voice of Chris in his head already complaining about the smell. Martin was already starting to build up a strong sweat and nobody was more aware of that fact than the pair of haunted underwear that had to absorb it. And absorb it he did, much to his dismay, as Martin continued to work up more and more of a sweat once he put some proper weight on the machine. Making sure to go nice and deep with every squat. Sweat dripping from every pore as that musky testosterone filled aroma only grew more powerful.

Beforehand Martin had been partially dreading the idea of having to workout everyday to maintain this body. It was a ton of work afterall to maintain a physique this godly. Most who say it’s a full time job and they’d be right. Yet now here he was loving the burn as any doubts about keeping in shape faded away.

“Fuuuuuuck… I’m so damp…” Chris mumbled in the back of Martin’s mind as the hunk finished up his last set here. “God it fucking smells…” he continued on, referring to Martin’s cock and balls stinking him up as they got hotter and sweatier along with the rest of his body. Though just hearing those comments made Martin’s dick twitch.

“That’s right… soak it up.” Martin whispered under his breath before taking a swig of his protein shake.

“Mmmff… Uurghh… F-Fuck you…” Chris managed to grunt back at Martin but he was clearly struggling through all those man smells that must’ve been overwhelming his senses.

Just knowing Chris was being forced to sniff it all up was driving Martin crazy on the inside, as if everything about this experience hadn’t already been driving him crazy. It was basically the equivalent of if Chris had been forced to shove his face into his own crotch and was unable to remove it. It was making Martin so damn horny but he had to keep his cool for now. He took a few deep breaths to help maintain his composure so that he didn’t spring a tent in the middle of the gym.

This cycle ends up repeating itself throughout Martin’s entire routine. As with every new exercise Martin would only find himself sweating more and more, leaving a seemingly endless supply of sweat for Chris to unwillingly absorb into his fabric body. After the hack squat he jumped to the leg press machine, keeping his feet to the bottom of the pad to help with quad isolation upon Chris’ instructions. Though Martin couldn’t help but notice the subtle slurring of Chris’ words as he explained. Like he was getting more and more drowsy as the session went on. Yet Martin continued on, pushing himself further and surprising himself with how good his form was thanks to muscle memory.

Before long Martin was completely drenched in sweat after completing a few sets of Bulgarian split squats, which were honestly hellish even with his incredible new body. But as he made his way over to a weighted calf raise machine, Martin couldn’t help but notice how quiet Chris was getting. Throughout that entire last exercise, all he heard was “Sooooo moist… Mmmmmm…” along with a couple other murmurs that he couldn’t make out. It seemed like having to absorb all that sweat and musk was having more of an even deeper effect on Chris’ consciousness than Martin thought it would.

It didn't take long for Martin to get into rhythm with the calf raises, tugging on his large sneakers again beforehand and entrapping his musky scent inside them once more.

As he did he found himself glancing around the room again. Seeing all these people of different shapes and sizes. And yet… he was the undoubtedly biggest of them all. Huge all over with pure muscle that would’ve made him look like a hulking monster had it not been for his perfect proportions. He couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of pride in that fact but he tried to stay humble all the same just as the real Chris would. Of course that didn’t stop him checking himself out a little in some of the many wall mirrors after his last exercise before finally heading back to the locker rooms.

He pulls out the bag with the spare clothes from yesterday along with a clean towel before getting undressed. He figured he could get a shower at Chris’ place if he wanted but it’d probably be better to take care of this workout stench ASAP. He proceeded to wrap the towel around his waist after taking off his possessed underwear and tossing them in his locker for the time being, still slightly concerned about the lack of communication from Chris as he headed towards the showers. The last things he’d heard were all low hums and groans.

Naturally a part of Martin wanted to do a replay of last night where he’d been worshipping himself under the steaming water but he couldn’t even begin to imagine the headlines if people heard him pleasuring himself in a public gym. Nope, now he was a celebrity he had to be a lot more careful about everything he did. Unfortunately that also meant he couldn’t go around stealing other men’s sweaty clothes and sniffing them, even if that was how he managed to get this famous body to begin with.

Thankfully he managed to keep himself under control despite not quite getting used to how erotic it was to wash such a huge muscular body. Martin stepped back into the main locker room with the towel around his waist once again before reaching into his locker and grabbing the clean clothes Chris had brought with him the previous day. There was a clean pair of underwear as well which he considered pulling on but Martin ended up grabbing the pair Chris was trapped inside again anyway to see if he’d gotten over whatever weird haze he was in earlier. After all, there was still so much he needed to learn about his new life.

Martin locked himself in a changing cubicle, ironically the same one in which his transformation had occurred yesterday, and pulled on the underwear first and foremost. Right away he could hear Chris’ voice in his head running through his head.

“Yooouu fuckinn asshole… Give back… my… my… mmmm-musk… fuuuuuck…” Chris mumbled. He was still slurring his words as if he were drunk out of his mind but at least he was talking again. “Wet… smelly… muuusskk…” He continued to ramble.

With a sigh of relief, Martin threw on the rest of his clothes before grabbing his things from the lock and marching his way out of the gym. Next stop was his new house so he could start figuring out his new life for real!

———

The next few days were a headache to say the least. Trying to integrate into another man’s life wouldn't have been easy regardless but especially for a man as famous as Chris Bumstead. It didn’t help that the real Chris was still quite reluctant to help out of spite half the time and Martin usually had to resort to blackmailing him again with the video he’d made.

When he first arrived at Chris’ house it was quite the whirlwind. He had friends and family alike all asking where the hell he’d been. He had come up with some elaborate lies as to why he’d gone awol for a day and a half. Not to mention half of them having seen his Instagram story which was a little harder to explain. Guess he hadn’t really thought that one through at the time. Regardless, by some miracle, he was able to convince them he was the real Chris. After all it's not like anyone would actually suspect something as insane as that right? Nonetheless Martin did get a few comments about how he seemed a little… off. Luckily he was able to convince everyone that he was just struggling with some ‘Personal Stuff’ that he wasn’t ready to talk about just yet.

He’d even gotten to meet Iain for the first time. Martin made sure to savour the big bro hug that Iain gave him, pressing their bulky bodies together. Iain went on to ask if Chris was doing alright with the weird stuff that had seemingly gone on in the past day or so. It was clear they had a deep bond and Martin could really feel how Iain cared for Chris like a real brother. But still… the lack of space between their thick powerful bodies made it difficult for Martin to control his growing hunger to just grab the other man and smash their lips together. He could see it so clearly in his mind. Wrapping his arms around Iain’s wide shoulders as they melted into the kiss together before rolling into the couch in a mess of lust and passion. But Martin knew that wasn’t how it would really go. Iain would likely push him away in disgust and who knows what would happen to their family after that. That said Martin thought it best not to accidentally blow up his brand new personal life the first chance he got. For now he’d just have to settle for his own imagination in that regard. Making the most of times when Iain hands brushed against Martin’s own bulging muscles during their future workouts.

Eventually Martin found himself settling into Chris’ life pretty well. He had a decent place for sure. Not too big but still fancy enough that anyone could tell he was fairly minted. Martin had already gotten glimpses of the place before when watching Chris’ YouTube videos in the past. It certainly looked a little different now though. Like there wasn’t as much of a feminine touch to the place anymore. He could only assume that was because of Wavell’s reality spell making it so he and Chris’ former fiancé were never together.

On that note, Martin was happy to find he was still absolutely a hundred percent gay. He’d wondered if maybe being inside Chris’ body would’ve made him bisexual or something since Chris had been straight but nope. He was as gay as could be. If anything he might’ve been more obsessed with men than before and that was saying something. As far as he could tell though, the world still believed he was straight. That was evident enough when Iain asked him if he’d been seeing any women lately. He’d dodged the question at the time but that did make Martin wonder how he was gonna break the news. A post on one of his socials would be the obvious choice but then again he could make more of a spectacle of it if he waited until a bodybuilding show to announce it. Or maybe he could set up an account on a gay dating app and let the news spread all by itself. Lots to think about there.

Besides that Martin continues to run his new businesses as well as he can while keeping up with the workout routine Chris had guided him through. Well sort of anyway. It was like every time Martin went to the gym these past few days, Chris was getting more and more drunk on the sweat and musk. Always slurring his words when they communicated and making off hand comments about how he wanted more sweat and musk. Going on about how he wanted the smell now rather than rejecting. Martin even resorted to washing Chris despite the protests in an effort to get him back to normal which didn’t work exactly how he’d planned. If anything it just pissed him off, saying how it felt like he’d been forced to eat soap. Sure it made him a tad more normal for a while but it didn’t take long for him to start groaning about musk again once Martin continued to wear him.

It got to the point where Martin had considered not wearing Chris at all from now on. It sounded like his mind was starting to erode the deeper the musk seeped in. Only wearing him once in a while to preserve consciousness. But he couldn’t. Martin so often found himself needing to ask questions for direction in his new life. Not to mention he couldn’t help the fact that hearing Chris groan about loving his former scent turned Martin on like hell. Even now after about a week of his new life he was back at the gym again and wearing his haunted underwear like usual. Just doing what was now supposed to be his normal routine while trying not to get a boner because of how much he loved his new self and how much he adored hearing the original Chris submit to his musk.

———

It was chest day for Martin and he was really aiming to push his limits on seeing how much he could bench press. He hadn’t actually maxed out on something like that yet. Mainly because he was usually working out on his own and he knew going super heavy would be a dumb idea if he didn’t have someone to save his ass if it went sideways. But today he had the perfect person to spot him for safety. None other than his brother in law Iain!

They’d taken to doing a session together in Chris’ home gym rather than a public gym since it gave them more space and privacy. Something that Martin had come to appreciate after all the looks and interruptions he’d received in public gyms. Plus this meant he could be all alone to secretly admire Iain’s body just as much as his own.

Martin had just spotted Iain as he did his own set of bench presses. The whole time he found his eyes glued to Iain’s huge meaty pecs. After taking off his own shirt, Martin had been able to convince Iain to take his off as well. Now all Martin could think about was rubbing his own hefty pecs against Iain’s sweaty ones.

Once Iain was finished, Martin began racking the bar with some more plates until that thing looked terrifyingly heavy. Totalling up to 200KG or 440lbs of weight.

“Jesus brother. Are you going for a one rep max or something?” Iain quipped as he watched Martin secure the plates with a clip on either side.

Martin smirked at Iain as he got laid down on the bench. “Yuuup. Last time I tried, my PR was about 197KG. Just thought I should try and make it an even 200. It’s been awhile after all and I feel like my strength has improved a little since then.” Martin explained and he was pretty much spot on. He’d remembered Chris talking about his personal records on YouTube before. The thought of using Chris’ own body to beat a record he’d set was exhilarating to say the least.

He gripped the bar firmly with good form as Iain stood over him after getting into position. Martin tried really hard not to think about how close Iain’s cock was to his head right now as he gritted his teeth and steadily lifted the bar off the rack and down towards his chest. Iain made sure to keep the bar level while not interfering too much, instead shouting words of encouragement down at Martin.

“Come on Chris! Up! Up!” Iain’s words rang through Martin’s head like a beacon of light that helped to ignite a deeper strength inside himself. With all his might Martin began to push the bar upwards, watching as it slowly lifted up. “There you go! Keep going! Come on, you're Mr Olympia aren’t ya?!” Iain continued, causing Martin to let out a roar in response. His arms and chest were on fire as he forced the bar to rise higher and higher until he finally did it. He actually benched 200 fucking kilos! Even as Iain was helping him re-rack the bar, Martin already had a giddy smile plastered across his face.

“Damn…” Martin huffed through laboured breaths.

Iain just smirked down at him. “You’re still not touching my PR.” He said playfully. It was true. Iain, the muscle monster that he was, had a record of about 225KG or around 500lbs.

“Well I train for the classic aesthetic, not to be a mass monster like you.” Martin replied while sitting up and grabbing his water bottle.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to feel better.” Iain laughed.

The pair continued their chest day like normal. Hitting all the different exercises to keep their pecs huge and full. Egging each other on and joking like real bros. It was pretty crazy how well Martin had been able to slip into this. Already he found himself talking and acting quite convincingly as Chris. Iain hadn’t even questioned him since that first time Martin had met him. It was just a shame Martin couldn’t think of a way to get Iain into worshipping their bodies together without it sounding incredibly weird. Instead Martin would just have to resign to picking up Iain’s tank top ‘by mistake’ so he could stuff his nose into it in between sniffing all of his own sweaty clothes.

———

The morning after his delicious chest day with Iain, Martin found himself waking up with yawn in the new bed he’d gotten used to since moving into Chris’ house. It was much bigger than his old one and far better suited to his size. He dozed for a couple minutes before finally sitting up with a stretch.

He trudged downstairs before going about what had become his regular morning routine by now. He was wearing Chris yet again but the possessed underwear had become much more docile as of late. He would still answer when called upon but he always sounded sleepy and he didn’t seem to protest as much as he once did whenever Martin went on a self worship frenzy. Regardless Martin got on with his morning.

He’d had some breakfast and done some stretching when he made his way into his personal gym. He was ready for an intense back day but was stopped in his tracks when I saw another man he didn't recognise using the leg extension machine in his home gym!? Had he broken in? Was this stranger a crazy fan??

“Hey!” Martin shouted, swiftly making his way over. “What the hell are you doing in here?!?” He demanded an answer, subconsciously making his frame look as big and imposing as possible.

The stranger hardly even flinched. He glanced up at Martin before flashing him a quick smile. “Ah. Was wondering when you’d finally get your arse out here big man.” The intruder replied with a notable British accent. “Hold on. Got a few more reps.” He added without a care in the world as he continued to push the weight.

Martin just sort of stood back in shock. Who the hell was this guy? He wanted to be angry but he couldn’t help feeling strangely at ease for some reason. Of course it didn’t hurt that the man was a total hunk. He wore tight clothes that left little to the imagination and certainly flattered his hefty build. So thick with juicy muscle. Fuck. Martin was getting far too used to being exposed to hulking men as of late.

The stud finished his set, leaning back in the seat for a moment as he caught his breath before standing up. He placed his hands on his hips as he turned his attention back to Martin. “So. How have you been getting on with that body? No problems I hope?”

Martin narrowed his eyes at the stranger. “What the hell are you talking about? A-and why are you asking me questions!? You’re the one who broke into my house!” He bellowed, not quite processing what the man had said at first.

“What? You don’t recognise me?” The stud hummed playfully. “Suppose I do look a little younger since the last time you saw me.” He continued before raising both arms up into a double biceps flex. “And a bit juicier.” He added with a snicker. “It’s me. Wavell!”

Martin’s mouth hung slightly agape as his kind tried to process what the man before him had just said. Wavell? The same Wavell who had perfect silver hair and a lean physique that never failed to catch someone’s eye. The same Wavell who seemed to wear nothing but immaculate suits. The same Wavell who used some otherworldly magic to turn Martin himself into Chris Bumstead!?

“W-what? You mean…?” Martin hardly got a sentence out before the hunky warlock finished it for him.

“Yup. The very same Mr Wavell you know and love. I know I look a little different right now but come on Martin. You can tell it’s me… can’t you.” Those last two words came out slower and deeper as Wavell’s eyes glowed an unmistakable violet.

“Holy shit! It really is you! Fuck!” Martin shouted, not knowing whether to feel excited or nervous. “W-what happened to you? Did you steal someone’s body as well?”

Wavell looked down at himself before running his hands along the mountains he called pecs, massaging them a little before explaining. “Well yes and no. I won’t go into all the details but I essentially have two bodies. Sometimes in the silver fox daddy you saw before. Sometimes I’m a young hairy hunk instead. Depends on my mood I suppose.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Oooh on that note, look at how fat the leggings make my arse look.” Wavell spun around before Martin even had a chance to think. He hoisted up the back of his shirt slightly to give a good full view of his heavy bubble butt as it pressed aggressively against the tight leggings that struggled to contain his lower body. “I mean my arse always looks fat but still. Fuck. Bet you wish your cock was buried to the hilt inside it huh?” Wavell shook his bubble butt enticingly.

“I… Uhhhmm…” Martin’s mouth went dry at the sight. Wavell was right though. Every instinct in his body was telling him to rip those leggings open and ravish that thick ass. But before he got a chance to even consider following through, Wavell spun back around again to face Martin.

“Ahhhh no need to answer. I know I’m adorably handsome and fuckable beyond belief.” Wavell said half jokingly while crossing his arms over his considerable chest. “But anyway, down to business. The real reason I’m here is because I wanted to ask if you’d received any of Chris’ memories yet?”

“Memories? Nope. I’ve just been asking him a ton of questions mainly. Although he hasn’t been as helpful lately. He won’t stop grunting and going on about my smell.”

Wavell grinned as it seemed Martin hadn’t figured out the other little aspect of the magic he’d placed on both Chris and Martin. “Well faking it might get you through the short term but eventually you’re gonna find yourself tripping up trying to juggle Chris’ life if you don’t have all the memories you need to do so. Luckily for you however, all you need to do is ask him.”

“What do you mean “ask?” Like he can just give his memories to me whenever he wants?” Martin questioned.

Wavell shifted on the spot a little while nodding his head. “Pretty much yeah. All you’ve gotta do is ask Chris to give you his memories. If you can get him to agree then they’ll automatically be transferred over to you. After that you should be all set for the long game.” The warlock stroked his beard nonchalantly, his bicep subtly flexing at the movement. “And guessing by what you’ve told me… I’m willing to bet he’s already pretty suggestive.”

Martin glanced down at his crotch. Was it really that easy all along? All he had to do… was ask?

“Well as much as I’d love to stay, chat and suck each other off, I promised my boyfriend I wouldn’t be long. I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up already to see what’s taking me.” Wavell chuckled. “Besides I’ve got no doubt you could have a guy over here sucking your cock within the hour if you really wanted. I doubt many gay men would say no to all of that. Unless you’re too obsessed with your new brother in law to think about anyone else of course…” He gave Martin a devious smirk.

“How did you know about that??” Martin questioned.

“Magic.” Wavell said as he waved a pair of jazz hands at the clueless sculpture of a man before him. “Anyway I’ve got bodies to swap, people to transform and a boyfriend to please so I’ll leave you to it bro. I have every faith that you’ll squeeze those memories out of your friend down there and be living your best life soon enough!” He clasped his hands enthusiastically. “So until we meet again Chris.” He smirked before vanishing right in front of Martin’s eyes in a swift tornado of purple smoke. Theatrical as always. He didn’t even give Martin a chance to say goodbye.

And so the bodybuilder was left on his own once again. Now he knew exactly what he had to do in order to truly make this new life his own. And he was going to take it.

———

The door to Martin’s new place swung open as he arrived home after a jog back from the gym, already having worked up a decent sweat and for good reason. He didn’t have anything lined up for the rest of the day as far as he could recall which meant he had the place to himself with no distractions. Perfect.

“So Chris. Not sure if you heard what that crazy magic guy said but I’m gonna need you to give up ownership of your memories.” He proclaimed out loud after tossing his shorts off and across the room. “So. You gonna give em to me or what?” He continued with a cocky demeanor.

Chris groaned a little as he tried to comprehend Martin’s words. “Mmmm… fuuck… what? Memories?… N-no. They’re mine… you can’t have them.” He just about managed to reply despite his seemingly drunken state.

“Oh yeah? Well let’s see if I can help change that tune of yours. You like feasting on your own sweat don’t ya?” Martin jumped on the treadmill without hesitation, tapping a few buttons before the thing started to move. “Well how about I get some extra cardio in for you?”

“Yes I… No… No I don’t absolutely fucking love that amazing sweaty scent. No fuck!…” Chris battled with himself and the new urges that’d been festering inside his mind ever since he was cursed. Urges that had become increasingly difficult to fight against to the point where it was bordering on addiction. The still sane part of him wanted to hate that overwhelming scent and taste that bombarded him almost everyday but this other twisted part of himself was in love with it. But he couldn’t give in. He couldn’t let this imposter win and take everything from him! He had to fight for his body! For his life!

Martin soon found himself turning the treadmill up from a jog to a run. Hearing the machine creak slightly under his weight with every step was delightful. More and more sweat dripped from every pore. Soaking his tank top and more importantly his underwear. He pushed himself to go for as long and fast as possible. Running until beats or salty sweat were dripping from his nose and the beard. He was drenched. So much so that Chris was being completely engulfed by the intensifying stench and taste to the point where he could hardly form a single thought about anything else. Before long he was groaning endlessly about how much he fucking loves the manly scent like a pig.

“Ready to… give up those… memories yet!?” Martin shouted heavy breaths down at the pair of sentient briefs as he slowed the treadmill to a brisk walk. He was hoping that the overload of stimulation would wear down the former Mr Olympia just enough to slip up and agree.

“Fuck! Fuck! So sweaty! So fucking smelly! Smells soooo good! I-I-” Chris stuttered as he finally processed what he’d been asked again. “I… I…. said no! You c-can’t have… mmmmhh… mmmy m-memories!!” He continued to protest despite it all which came as quite the shock to Martin. If it were him, Martin would’ve broken ages ago. Guess that went to show Chris’ champion mentality. A mentality that would soon belong to Martin one would hope.

He really thought that would do it though. Martin started to think that maybe he’d have to give it a few more days. Wait for Chris’ mind to corrupt a little further until it was hopefully more malleable. Maybe then he’ll be able to get the answer he wants. However, just as he was about to give up, an idea sprung to mind causing a devilish smirk to spread across Martin’s handsome yet stolen face.

The massive hunk of man hurried his way to the bedroom after jumping off the treadmill, kicking off his sneakers and peeling off his shirt. It wasn’t long before he found himself kneeled on his new king sized bed in nothing but his underwear while facing the huge bedroom mirror. Damn he loved his new place. Almost as much as he loved pleasuring this new body of his. A body didn’t ever plan on losing.

With that Martin sunk a hand down into his briefs, earning a strangely satisfied grunt from Chris as his fabric body was stretched. After which grabbing his already half hard cock and giving it a few strokes. Now usually this would be the point where he pulls down his briefs some more to unleash his cock in all its glory… but not this time. No sir. Those briefs stayed right where they were as Martin kept pumping away at his huge manhood despite the constraining fabric.

“H-hey? Mmmm fuck… W-what are you doing!?” Chris panicked a little while battling against his urges, trying hard not to moan out again about how much he adored the scent he was absorbing. Unfortunately for him Martin didn’t answer. He simply continued to jack himself off while glancing at his own reflection in the mirror and talking to himself. Telling his reflection how fucking huge and sexy he was and that he’d never go back in a million years.

It wasn’t long before Martin’s fat cock started to leak precum and, just like all the sweat so far, Chris was forced to drink it up and taste his former body’s pre. He tried to ignore how good it tasted at first but it was impossible. It was even better than all the sweat he’d been guzzling so far. So sweet but salty at the same time, yet so so addictive. It was divine! He wanted more. No he needed more! It wasn’t long before he was begging for more cum to taste. To spread inside his fabric form and savour it just as he did with all the sweat.

“Yeah you want it? You want my cum? Well I can give you a whole fucking load if you if you’re that much of a slut for it!” Martin promised, continuing to jerk with vigour.

“Yes! Yes please give it to me! I need it so badly! I need to taste it!” Chris begged in a frenzy. God if only his past self could’ve seen him now. Trapped as a pair of his own briefs and begging to be nutted inside. “Please just blow your load in me! I need it!”

That was it. Martin had him at last. He kept pumping for a few more minutes and letting Chris soak up as much precum as possible before finally posing a deal. “Alright I’ll give it to you. But only on one condition. Give me those fucking memories!!” He demanded.

Chris was silent for a moment. It was clear as crystal that he was trying to resist the temptation. He tried so hard to say no but he just as badly wanted to have that load. It was tearing him apart! So much so that he ended up shouting out an answer on impulse.

“Yes! Fine! Take them! Have my memories! I don’t care, just blow your looooaaaaadddddduuuhhhhhhh…” Chris trailed off as suddenly the very memories he’d just agreed to give up were suctioned out right out of his mind in one of the most pleasurable sensations he’d ever experienced.

“Holy fuuuuuuucckkkk!!!” Martin bellowed out as an entire life began pouring itself inside his head. Core memory after memory showing up in his mind one after the other as if he’d actually experienced them. All of Chris Bumstead adventures, experiences, ideas and skills swiftly becoming his. An entire identity transferring itself in a whirlwind inside his head as everything slotted into place. That experience instantly skyrocketed to the number one most bizarre thing Martin had ever felt and probably ever will feel. Quite literally having a life flash before his eyes.

Before he knew it the sheer intensity of the transfer caused Martin to bust one of the biggest loads of his life, soaking the underwear even more so than it already was with his thick virile seed. Some managed to push through the fabric and drip onto the bed sheets but most of the cum was absorbed rather quickly for… obvious reasons.

“Yessssss… cummmm! I love cum! Cum and sweat! Soooo delicious…” The original Chris mumbled mindlessly. With all his memories drained he hardly even knew who he was anymore. Now he was nothing more than a piece of horny sentient fabric with a one track mind. To serve his master. To show off his master’s ass and bulge. And of course to absorb his master’s essence.

After catching his breath, Martin slipped off the underwear before dropping it on the floor in a messy heap so he didn’t have to hear those horny moans any longer inside his head. Instead he took a step towards the mirror and looked at his reflection again. Before now he’d always felt like an outsider. And Imposter parading around in someone else’s skin. But now? He was the real deal. That man staring back at him in the mirror. It wasn’t some other dude who’s body he’d stolen. It was him! He was Chris Bumstead now! And nothing was ever going to change that!

“And I’ll be a better version of Chris than you ever were.” He muttered, looking back at the discarded cum filled underwear on the floor before turning back to the mirror. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward towards the glass and pressed his bearded lips against the reflection. Making out with ‘himself’ shamelessly. God he fucking loved himself. And he was gonna love his new life even more!

With that the new Chris made his way to the bathroom so he could wash up and get all this strong manly stench washed away for the time being. And as he stood under the running water, the new Chris began to ponder how he was going to introduce his new sexuality to the world yet again. I still hadn’t come to a decision but he was eager to introduce the world formally to the new and improved Chris Bumstead! One that was very… very gay.

Epilogue coming soon…

[toasttt11]

changes

July 3, 2024

Hayden fiddled with the string on her shorts nervously as she looked at Ellen and Jim who were sitting across from her in the office in her San Diego.

Over three years ago she read her parents will for the first time and found out about her parents wish if they passed away for her to be adopted by the Hughes.

At the time she was not ready, the idea made her nauseous like signing those papers and letting Jim and Ellen become her adopted parents even as a adult felt like she was betraying her parents no matter if it was their idea or not.

She couldn’t do it then and Ellen and Jim completely understood letting Hayden know she never had to sign the papers if she didn’t want to and she was apart of their family with or without the papers.

“What is it Hayden?” Ellen asked her softly as Hayden asked Ellen and Jim come to the office with her alone and Hayden was obviously very nervous.

Hayden let out a nervous breath before she reached over with her good arm grabbing a folder and held it out to them.

Jim took the folder and opened it for Ellen and him to be able to see the papers inside. Ellen and Jim both paused reading the title on the paper and shared a look with one another.

Ellen quickly pulled out the paper and she gasped seeing Hayden’s signature on the paper, next to Jim and Ellen’s signatures form three years ago and Harrison and Maddison’s signatures from many years ago.

“You signed it?” Ellen’s voice cracked softly looking at her Hayden, who was watching with soft eyes and a nervous look.

“I thought it was time. If it’s not to late?” Hayden said softly her eyes bouncing between the two nervously.

Ellen got up and walked over to Hayden leaned down, “It was never too late.” Ellen said softly and hugged her daughter.

Hayden closed her heed emotional and softly rested her head on Ellen’s shoulder as Jim got up walking core and gently rubbing Hayden’s back.

Ellen softy pulled back and cupped Hayden’s face softly, Hayden would officially be their daughter soon in every sense now.

“They would be so proud.” Jim told her gently knowing how proud Harrison and Madison are for Hayden talking this big step.

Hayden smiled watery in return.

Ellen and Jim sat back down sharing a happy smile with each other.

“Is there anything else we need to do for this?” Ellen asked gesturing to the folder of paperwork.

“No everything is filled out and we just need to send it out.” Hayden answered her question.

“Well uh actually there is one thing.” Hayden spoke up looking a bit hesitant about what she was going to ask.

“What is it?” Jim asked soothingly noticing her nerves.

“Uh my name.” Hayden said softly, “Would it be okay to add Hughes to my name?”

Ellen and Jim both froze, “You want to add our name?” Ellen asked looking so incredibly touched.

“It’s what my parents would have done.” Hayden shrugged softly with a soft smile, one of the papers had her name with Hughes and she could tell it was her Mom’s writing.

It’s exactly what Ellen and Jim would have hoped would happen if they were the ones gone and Harrison and Madison were still alive with their three boys.

Talking care of Hayden was something Ellen and Jim have always and will always do and it’s become an added positive they are doing something for their best friends who passed while still loving Hayden completely.

Ellen sniffled too emotionally to speak and Jim held on to one of her hands as he reached over with his free hand and softly grabbing Hayden’s and softly squeezing her hand, “Of course you can.”

“What about Hayden Lee Blake-Hughes?” Hayden suggested what her Mom choose, it sounded perfect saying it out loud too.

Ellen just had tears in her eyes and grabbed her other hand nodding softly. She couldn’t be happier about this.

“Do the boys know?” Ellen asked Hayden after a few moments.

“No i haven’t told them yet, I was thinking maybe we tell them once the papers are processed and everything is official?” Hayden suggested wanting to surprise her brothers, she knew they are all gonna be so happy about this.

“That sounds perfect.” Ellen smiled softly, “They will love it.” The boys have always and will always see Hayden as their sister since the day the met but now legally she will be their sister too and Ellen knows they will ecstatic over this.

Hayden got hugs from both of them again and they left the folder with her as they both left the office.

Hayden let out a large breath as that went better than how she was worrying it would go, it wouldn’t have went bad by matter what but she was making her self nervous and over thinking.

Hayden glanced at the picture on the desk of her with her parents on a vacation abroad when she was younger and she was standing in front of them wrapped up by both of their arms as they smiled at the photo.

“I hope this makes you both so proud.” Hayden whispered softly to the picture.

This was a huge step for Hayden and she was definitely still unsure if it was the correct one even if it’s the one who parents wanted.

She knew she needed to continue to move on from their deaths because while she was better than she once was, she wasn’t fully moving on yet and she would never fully heal from loosing them but she knew she couldn’t keep going the way she was, if not only for herself but for her parents too.

Hayden quickly glanced up at the sound of a soft knock and saw Matt in the doorway leaning on the doorframe looking at her with a soft smile that she has come to learn is reserved only for her.

“Hi.” Hayden said softly as Matt pushed off the doorframe and walked offer to her and gently kissed the top of head.

“How did it go?” Matt asked her softly gently rubbing her shoulder on her good side. Hayden had talked to Matt about what she was doing and she needed some reassurance before she asked them.

“Good good.” Hayden softly nodded to her herself, it was a weird step but not a bad step.

“Come on you should be resting.” Matt said softly helping her stand back up, he could talk to her more about this later but she needed some rest.

Hayden leaned her Matt as he walked her back to her room.

[nothingbuthorn]

Stupid

Shinso x reader

Pt.1 Pt.2

—————

It had started small, shrugging off Shinso’s advice, more teasing jabs at him, a slow but noticeable increasing unwillingness to listen to him.

At first, Hitoshi hadn’t cared all that much, he was just happy that you still wanted to be around him after that night. He was perfectly content to let you make jabs at him if it meant you were willing to look past him overriding your free will over a bowl of soup.

Most, he could handle being rejected by, but after so much time you had become different.

He did grow concerned when you began to proclaim he “couldn’t tell you what to do.” He quickly began to notice how often you said things like that, soon enough it felt as though you were constantly commenting on his inability to make you do things.

In the beginning he thought that you were upset with him, that you had finally come to grips with the fact he could force you to do things. with all your back talk he expected you to start avoiding him, or maybe give him fewer opportunities to activate his quirk.

This wasn't the case at all, quite the opposite actually. You seemed to take every opportunity to spend time with him, your constant rebuttals during your growing number of “playful spats” and constant insistence that he couldn’t control you, felt like the opposite of what a person who had lost a sense of control would do.

Hitoshi never used the many opportunities you gave him. Even before your shift, he very rarely used his quirk on you, after the first few times there wasn’t much reason to. Even with you becoming more and more combative, he couldn’t bring himself to do it, the fear of breaking your trust still raw from that day.

Even so, Shinsou was very frustrated. You were beginning to reach a point where you seemed to disagree with everything he said, for no other reason than to contradict him. It had reached the point where his mere existence seemed to spark jabs out of you. They were never hurtful or true judgements, more like off handed jokes meant to just barely get under his skin.

For a while, he thought he was ok to just let whatever was happening, run its course. You weren't causing yourself harm like before, so long as your snippy attitude didn’t make you skip meals or not sleep, he saw no reason to intervene. If this was how you made yourself comfortable with him, go nuts.

He was just happy (if not a little confused) that you still trusted him, if anything you trusted him more now. Though it felt excessive at times, the moment he entered a certain radius of you, the common sense lobe in your brain seemed to just turn off.

To be totally honest, he had moments when he doubted he had anything to do with this sudden change, he couldn’t exactly tell what you were like when he wasn’t around. What he did notice was that you had suddenly become far more trusting of the people around you. Most rather shady looking in his mind.

Now he cannot totally fault you for this, he himself could be considered “shady looking ” in many people's book and your willingness to ignore that was what had begun your friendship in the first place. But this is different, Shinso was never creepy the way these guys were.

The only way any of your actions made any sense was if you had suddenly and without reason, you had began to believe that any person who was not actively dressed as a villain, or in the act of a crime was by default trustworthy.

Your displays of naivety seemed to act as a lure to swaths of sleazy high school boys out of UA’s woodwork. The worst part seemed to be that you, unknowingly entertained them, completely oblivious to their advances. they in turn took that as an invitation. Hitoshi found himself shooing off more and more boys who were developing wandering, hands, eyes or impure intentions. As time went on, not a single guy had passed his judgement, and he had started to consider carrying a broom around with him just to be more efficient.

Although he did not like it, Shinso found that his most effective means of keeping them away from you was to stake a sort of unspoken claim on you, by using his unsavoury reputation, he found that few were willing to approach you when he was around or close to you.

an unforeseen side effect of Shinso keeping other guys away from you, is that everyone will think your dating…. Who would’ve thought?

————————

I’ve been sitting of this for a bit, sorry

Im trying to break my habit of wanting to finish a story before posting anything

Part 3 coming soon

————————

@x-reader-reblog-station

[rauferes]

WIP Wednesday

Had a sudden and acute attack of bisexuality, and then got too embarrassed to write the spicy bits. Bon appetit.

***

The Fade is, at times, a strange place. A person does not always step out the same as they went in.

…which does not lessen the shock when the Veilguard passes through one strange little non-Euclidean corner of the Fade and Emmrich emerges with his impeccably tailored clothing suddenly fitting rather differently.

“Uh,” Rook says intelligently, staring at Emmrich’s new and unexpected breasts. Small, of course—he’s still rather lean—but enough to make a tiny gap in the buttons of his shirt. The skin underneath is bare, pale. Rook’s eye snags on a faint freckle—

Rook’s humiliating lapse in control goes unnoticed, thankfully, as Emmrich looks down, frowning thoughtfully, and then turns to look at the rest of their party—Rook, Lucanis, and Bellara are no worse for wear. Lucanis raises his eyebrows, and Bellara’s puzzled expression quickly morphs into avid intellectual curiosity.

“How unexpected,” Emmrich says mildly. “Ideas?”

None of the first thoughts that come to Rook’s mind can be said aloud. Bellara fills the silence eagerly, so excited that she can’t finish one thought without starting three more.

“Maybe it’ll fix itself if you went back in and came out again?” Rook says, stupidly.

Emmrich gives an elegant little shrug, disappearing back into the archway (Rook can’t help but notice the curve of his hips as he goes, what with how snugly his pants now fit there, and that a little change in anatomy has only accentuated an already lovely behind, and Rook hates themself. Just a little bit.)

Rook’s foolish suggestion does not, of course, work. Emmrich emerges the same as before, his impeccable, short hair framing a strangely bare face.

Rook had just managed to get over the flutters in their stomach every time Emmrich smiled. With the changes, it’s like Rook is seeing him for the first time again, and they'll have to start all over. It isn’t fair.

“Well,” Emmrich says, and pauses for a long moment. “I suppose I’ll have to investigate this later. It’s not exactly pressing, at the moment. Shall we?”

They continue on to their mission, Bellara theorizing at full speed the entire time.

Rook spends the entire time feeling all of thirteen again, unable to look away. Every time they break their stare, their eyes slowly creep back again. They could not tell you what they did for the rest of the mission if their life depended on it.

When Rook finds Emmrich poring over texts two nights later, the strange magic still hasn’t worn off. He’s borrowed one of Neve’s shirts, for comfort—buttoned up higher than Neve has ever worn it—but his pants are still his own. Rook has begun to use half their brainpower on keeping their eyes above neck level every time they speak to Emmrich.

“Any progress so far?” Rook asks.

“Inconclusive, still,” Emmrich says. He sighs, pushing his chair back, and stands to stretch his lower back.

…Emmrich’s height hasn’t changed in the least. Rook’s mouth goes too dry to speak.

They don’t manage to straighten their mortified expression before Emmrich catches it.

“Come now, you needn’t be so uncomfortable with me,” Emmrich coaxes. “I’m no different, underneath.”

“Yeah, but you’re so gorgeous that my brain shuts off,” Rook says. They snap their mouth shut, far too late—ugh, case in point.

“I see,” Emmrich says, an amused glint entering his eye.

“Please forget I said that,” Rook groans. “It was out of line, and—”

Their apology dies as Emmrich presses a knuckle under their chin and gently tilts their head up.

“Do I look upset?” Emmrich says lightly.

Rook licks their lips. Emmrich’s gaze drops. He studies Rook’s mouth for several long moments where Rook holds their breath.

“I will admit to a certain… curiosity,” Emmrich says slowly, meeting Rook’s eye again. “The ability to experience another form is a rather impossible exercise, under most circumstances. I wouldn’t wish to impose, but—that is, I wonder if you might be willing to indulge me in—”

“Oh,” Rook interrupts, their brain finally catching up. “Please.”

Emmrich leans in, capturing Rook’s mouth in a deceptively gentle kiss. Deceptive, because wow is he a good kisser. Rook’s hands settle on Emmrich’s hips as they try not to moan.

[michilinstar]

To Eat A God - Clingy S/O

If no one will write for this fandom, I will!!! I love this game so I want to provide for this fandom so I hope you enjoy, I want to apologize for my trash writing first hand though.

On a day that seemed like it was any average to come home to the guys randomly in your room. Somehow they figured out a way or something had transferred them here and there was no way to send them back. They still have their powers but you have to help them adjust to your world and fit in to avoid any problems. You take advantage of this opportunity to have someone to satiate your touch starved self and cling to them. Requests are open at the moment!

Nulla -

When Nulla first found his way out of the game he was overjoyed, and when he finally got a clear look at you it took all of his power from not grabbing onto you. It took him by surprise when you suddenly ran into his arms. He thought it would take time for you to adjust to him actually being there. He let you cling to him for about 30 minutes until he realized that this shouldn’t have been a normal reaction for an average person. It took another 10 minutes to get you to let him go.

“I didn't realize you wanted to see me this much, mi amor.” He said holding both your hands in the air to get you to stop hugging him, he then pulls both your hands to his lips and leaves a peck. You realize if he was gonna stay in your world permanently you would need to help him get settled, you took his arm and grabbed your purse and went out to take him shopping for more clothes. Nulla noticed you hadn’t let go of him the entire outing and didn't mind at all, he was just happy to be there with you.

No matter where you go you always drag Nulla with you, and he never gets tired of it he loves being with you. At home there's never a time where you’re separated, in the kitchen practically cooking a meal that one person can do. Or in the living room whenever you want to watch a movie and of course you get the essentials, popcorn, Nulla, and drinks of course! And to make it even better for him, he expected you to need time before you guys could start sleeping in the same bed but to his complete utter joy and surprise you were already clinging to him the first night.

Whenever you and Nulla go out he would be happily by your side. Kind of like a golden retriever waiting with his owner to give him attention. His attention would be on you and only you, if anyone were to try to talk to you he would instantly feel bothered and he shoos off any girls that have interest in him. If you go out shopping he wouldn’t mind holding your bags and loves it especially when you try on outfits.

When you guys went out your favorite store hand in hand you would drag him to the different types of clothing, he didn’t mind he was just happy to see you happy. His favorite part of going clothes shopping is that he has the opportunity to choose clothes for you. It’s like dressing up a doll and getting to see you try on what he chose for you. When you exited the changing room and walked out he was flabbergasted, you looked breathtaking in the alluring outfit he chose for you.

His attitude quickly changed as soon as he noticed a man gawking at you too. He was mega pissed off, he wanted to do something about it but wouldn’t want to ruin your shopping trip. Your outfit had a difficult zipper on the back and you called Nulla in to help you get it off and he happily obliged. He wrapped his arms around you resting his head on your shoulder.

“Mi vida, maybe don't buy the lovely outfit… if you are please only wear it around me.” Nulla left a peck on your neck and you giggled and agreed to not buy it, that night you gave Nulla a lot of cuddles in apology for making him jealous.

Septem -

Well… at first it was a huge surprise, he had achieved in joining you on the upper plane. He was barely adjusting to the new and confusing environment when he felt a pair of arms embrace him causing him to tense up instantly and pull the unknown person away from him. At first he was disgusted, he didn't know what you look like, after all, he can't see through the puppets eyes like Nulla. Septem absolutely hates any sort of physical touch so he was already pretty upset when this unknown person grabbed him. You stumbled back when he pushed you away, you then had to tell him that it was you stating your name since that's all he had of you.

“I see, I only associated you with the puppet. It's better to now put the name to its actual face.” He stated with a deadpan expression. After that he asked you to never do what you did again, but that was hard to ask of you. It was basically who you are. Considering his clothing choices you had to go out and get him a wardrobe to help him fit in with this world, it was hard to find something that fit his taste but eventually you got his approval. It took him at most a YEAR to get used to your antics, he tried his best to push you away but eventually gave up and let you cling to him. He still has his moments where it irks him but after a long time of persistence he just lets you do what you want and ONLY you. If it were anyone else… then let's say you had to hold back a pissed off Septem from attacking them.

At the beginning of the clinginess he would only swat your hands away and glare at you, he had considered killing you but didnt since it would be too much trouble and he kind of needs you in this world. You had to teach him how your world works and the technology us humans use. He eventually got the hang of it but whenever he has trouble with something he swallows his pride and begrudgingly asks you. He still has no clue how you have a liking for clinging onto him, at first he requested that you sleep in separate rooms. Fortunately for you and unfortunately for him you lived in a one bedroom home.

He then compromised and demanded that you stay on your side of the bed. Did you listen? Heavens no. He got no sleep that first night and laid there stiff from you snuggling him. After a whole year he at least lays an arm around you now. There was one night where he didn’t mind being stuck with you, it just kind of stuck with him in his head and made him consider your behavior. You stayed up late one night waiting for Septem to come home from his acquired job and you ended up falling asleep on the couch. He sighed in annoyance and debated if he should take you to bed, he lost the war and nervously went and picked you up. He had never initiated any physical touch, it was always you until now. You stirred around in your sleep when he picked you up, his body froze when you wrapped your arms around his neck and nuzzled into him. His face felt warm. He hadn't felt like this before. What is it? He brushed it off and focused on taking you back to bed, his face felt warmer the more you squirmed in his arms.

He would hear you mumble incoherent words in your sleep and he would eventually lay you down in bed. When he let you go he was about to go and get changed into pajamas when he felt your hand pull at him. You had an annoying begging look to you that said ‘stay’, Septem had a contemplating look on his face and eventually gave in and got into bed with you. That night he had the best sleep he’d ever gotten and the next morning you didn’t remember what happened at all. He kept what happened that night to himself.

Unum -

Unum is like the one left out of the trio, he was completely oblivious on who you really were in the game. He just saw the puppet as well. You. So when he found himself on the upper plane he was really confused, of course he got defensive when the actual you came and tried to calm him. It took a long time to get him to understand that it was you. He's an idiot. What can I say? You also had to take the time to explain the workings of your world, he eventually got it and you had to go out to get some clothes that will help him fit in. When you got back he was enamored with the technology of humans, and was fascinated with the clothes seeing how different it is than his. He had loads of questions for you, he’s been a fan of humans and their ideas. Turns out he was just as clingy as you were wherever you were in the house he would follow and would ask you questions about everything.

It was all fun and games until during breakfast it came upon him, he asked if you guys could legitimately create kids and you spat out your drink from that. Let's say you had to give him a talk first before he understood relationships. He came out really confused though because he thought you guys were already married. Unum enjoys going out and drags you with him, he holds onto your hand like some lost child. He likes to wander when it comes to a point you’ve considered buying those leash backpacks, a reason being that he almost walked into traffic… Unum is basically still getting used to your new look, afterall he only knew you by your puppet. He did say he likes your other version because you look much nicer.

His favorite pastime that he loves to do is anything that involves watching humans do what they do. He finds humans so fascinating as he clearly shows in the game, he mainly begs you to take him out to the park because that's where most humans are active. It's basically bird watching but with humans. You guys walk around the park hand in hand where he suddenly drags you to an ice cream retailer, he gives you a begging expression and you compromise and buy him one. A home pastime he enjoys is cuddling up with you anywhere, as long as you're lying near or on him he always finds it enjoyable. He mentions that he enjoys listening to human heart beats as it is the one thing that makes them different from the symbols. A will of life, and a reminder that one day the beats wont be as loud as they once were. This is why he clings to you so much, he fears that he may lose you as the only person that may understand him. Unum is the type to fall asleep with a background noise, the noise he can only sleep with is laying his head against your chest and listening to the consistent sound of beating.

Unum has no issue with other people being near you, it only becomes an issue if they’re a threat to his and your peace. Otherwise, he enjoys conversing with other humans even though you have to monitor his responses to avoid anything odd or disturbing being said. To be honest it's hard to tell who's pulling who around, he basically has you by his side as a support plush. You don’t make Unum work because of the lack of common sense so you work. Over the day he misses you and has a dozen more questions to ask. One time when you came home you walked in on Unum with a flame on the pan, he had a pretty solemn expression when you put it out. And he still wanted you to EAT it. When it comes to bed time he drags you to bed and basically traps you by laying on you.

[am0ralexis]

The Bet (smut) ❤️‍🔥

For 🦌 anon

You really should’ve known better than to make a bet with Alex.

Just one stupid stream challenge. One loss.

“If I win,” he said, voice casual but eyes gleaming, “you have to wear whatever I send you to the Twitch event.”

You lost. Of course you did.

The box arrived two days before the event.

Inside?

A vibrator. Lacy panties. And… no remote.

You blinked. Checked under the packaging. Nothing.

Your heart skipped.

You forgot the controller, dumbass.

He left you on read for two hours.

Then finally:

Did I?

You cursed out loud.

Still… you wore them.

You weren’t about to back out and give him the satisfaction. Not when he’d definitely hold it over your head forever. So you slipped them on, fixed your makeup, and arrived at the venue with a shaky little secret and way too much pride.

Alex spotted you immediately. That smug grin spread across his face as your phone buzzed.

“Looks good. I’ll know if you take it off.”

And then—

Pulse.

Low. Gentle. Like a warning.

Your face didn’t change, but your thighs pressed together. Your smile tightened as you posed for selfies, waved at fans, and made polite small talk with other streamers.

Then Missa appeared.

He was all warmth and charm—black shirt rolled at the sleeves, soft accent in your ear, jokes that made you laugh a little too loud. You’d always had a thing for him, and Alex knew it.

So when Missa leaned in to compliment your eyeliner, something shifted.

Across the room, Alex’s jaw clenched.

Your phone buzzed again.

Then—

Harder.

Your breath hitched.

You forced a smile, pretending to listen while your core throbbed. Missa said something about a future collab, and you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady.

Then Alex cranked it higher.

Your knees almost buckled. You grabbed the edge of the table. Missa gave you a concerned glance.

“You okay?”

“I—just—cramps,” you mumbled. “S’fine.”

Alex appeared a second later. His voice was smooth, too calm. “She doesn’t look fine. I’ll take her to get some air.”

Missa nodded. “You okay, hermosa?”

Alex’s jaw twitched. His hand slid to your lower back like a claim. “She’s good. I’ve got her.”

He dragged you out of the room, down the hall, into the bathroom. The moment the door shut, he pressed you to the wall with a sharp kiss.

“You really gonna flirt with him?” he growled, one hand already hiking up your skirt. “With me watching?”

“You jealous?” you panted, teasing—right until he shoved two fingers past the soaked lace.

He chuckled darkly. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

He found the vibrator and pulled it out slow, letting it pop free with a slick noise that made your face burn. He tossed it into the sink like it didn’t matter.

“You like making me watch you squirm?” he muttered, dragging your panties down.

“I—I wasn’t—”

“Bet you wanted him to notice,” he breathed, lining himself up. “But you belong to me.”

Then he pushed in—deep, possessive, no patience left. One hand over your mouth, the other braced on your hip as he took what was his, hard and fast.

You came again before you could stop it, body already too raw from the teasing. He followed with a groan, burying his face in your neck.

It should’ve ended there.

But fate? Cruel bitch.

You were still catching your breath, shaky and flushed, letting Alex fix your skirt while you washed your hands with trembling fingers—when the door creaked open.

“Mierda—perdón!” Missa froze in the doorway, eyes going wide. He took in the sight of you flushed and tousled, your lipstick smudged, Alex standing just a little too close with his hand still on your waist.

“…You alright?” he asked, gaze flicking between the two of you.

Alex didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

Just smiled—tight. Sharp.

“She’s fine,” he said, voice low. “Took care of her.”

You elbowed him lightly, flustered. “I’m okay, really.”

Missa hesitated, eyes narrowing just a bit. “You sure?”

Alex’s arm tightened around you. “Positive.”

It wasn’t a threat.

But it wasn’t not one, either.

Missa held your gaze a second longer. Then nodded, slowly. “Alright. I just wanted to make sure. You looked—y’know—kind of out of it back there.”

“She’s better now,” Alex said, brushing a piece of hair from your cheek like he owned you.

And maybe he did.

Missa gave a short nod, backed out of the doorway, and let it close behind him.

Silence.

You exhaled.

Alex turned to you, eyes darker than before.

“You like making me lose my mind, huh?”

You smirked. “A little.”

He stepped closer, mouth brushing your ear.

“Then don’t blame me next time I fuck you in front of a mirror.”

[speltfields]

NO WAAAYYY YOUR NEW WIP 😭😭😭😭 YOURE TRYING TO KILL US !!!!!

and about music he listens to it's so hard for me to decide some genre i've listened to all the shane playlists on spotify and i can't decide

what about you????

-🫶 anon

ok so first off to my non stardew followars (sorry) im gonna start tagging everything with #sdv posting so u can blaclklist. love u

answer under the readmore to save u all from the harmful psychic rays of my thoughts

i habe been thinking about the answer to this question for SOOOO LONGGGGG because i feel this has layers like here's all the different factors I have to consider

[and willfully ignore because hes my wet pathetic doll i can do whatever i want with]

1. stardew takes place in like the 80's yeah? 🤔🤔🤔 i ignore this one most of the time. giving them cellphones is funny. its the 2020s they all just have bad cell service and dial up still

2. emilys 8 heart event shane dresses like a punk. Dude gives off "i wanted to be a goth in middle school but couldnt afford tripp pants from the mall but now im an adult and too lazy to try" vibes. maybe his music taste reflects this

3. Umm he's "old" Lol (affectionate) I see him like late 30's early 40's...

4. But is he like COOL old or THINKS hes cool old (important distinction you have surely been around both types of men before and know the difference)

these are all of the factors i have to consider when choosing what music he would listen to.. the like "game takes place during the 80s" thing is the rule i play fast and loose. I only care about it if its funny contextually. usually its funnier if its not the case. Anyways onto the actual headcanons

I think shane would have pretty bad taste in music but once u are friends with him he's open to listening to new stuff and if you show him something new he hadn't heard before he'd say "Huh you're kind of weird aren't you 😏" making fun of you for it but secretly he'd think it was good/ he is def open to listening to new stuff. He secretly does like old school country as well. Noone knows this. You discover john denver/johnny cash cds buried under his bed (he listens to them to feel cool)

I think he would believe he had an eccentric music taste but then you'd go through his collection and its like... weezer. rhcp. maybe some metal. and ur like. This is Dad Rock Radio Tier and he'd be like "WHAT green day isnt dad rock" (i dont believe this yet but id say it to him anyway to make him mad. you understand)

you'd show him some shit like roswell kid and he'd go crazy for it even though its kinda cheesy. also he's randomly into stuff like aphex twin too.

I feel compelled to make him listen to the music i like but i know that that's wishful thinking. he's a dork that's why i like him. i might have to compound on this later when my brain works better (it takes me several weeks to form a single creative thought)

I haven't listened to any shane spotify playlists maybe i should... i do have my own playlist of songs that REMIND me of him but not necessarily stuff i think he'd listen to. I'm too embarrassed to post this 😈

[icewindandboringhorror]

Current temperature inside of my room right now in the middle of the night whilst about to go to sleep... villain origin story...