#and she can see it coming for her soon through her accepting of the curse

[mostlikelyshutup]

im crafting exquisite essays about ginger snaps and the death of childhood in my own head at midnight while laying awake in my dark room that will never see the light of day but trust me dude its genuinely a like delicious tasty little morsel of an essay

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, noncon/dubcon, angst, unwanted pregnancy, blackmail, ish-baby trapping

PART ONE only avaliable on AO3 due to Tumblr restrictions

fem reader

You went cold and forgot how to breathe.

When you got to the kindergarten, they told you his father had already come and collected him early. All looking at you as though you were crazy, assaulting the daycare workers with your hands in a bruising grip, shaking her by her shoulders—demanding she tell you where he took him. 

She spilled the name of some family restaurant down the road and said he’d wanted you to join them there. The poor thing was on the verge of tears when you let go.

Rushing out, you all but ran down the streets before pushing yourself through the doors—cold-sweating and swivel-eyed—in a panic, scanning faces with his name coming out weak under your breath. 

With your vision spinning, you felt faint before you heard it.

“Mommy! Mommy! You’re here! Look! I’m King of the castle!” he shouted, and your peeled eyes snapped to see him up high in a bright red plastic tower.

But before your shoes could hit the soft foam of the playground, you were intercepted by something larger.

“He’s fine,” he said under his breath, catching and stopping you in your beeline, holding you by the waist. “I need to talk to you.”

Something old and instinctive didn’t bother paying him heed—as if forgetting how to speak, you just ignored him in favor of pushing past him, eyes glued to the sight of your son blissfully unaware, playing with other kids with an oblivious smile on his face. But his grip was stronger than your instincts, firm enough to keep you still but not enough to hurt you, even when you tried twisting yourself free.

“Come on,” he urged.

You were about to sneer something, finally looking at his face—that face you hated—but the bark of curse words got held back.

“Look around you. Let’s not cause a scene.” The wild animal within went silent while your eyes flickered around at the surrounding picnic tables where families were having their dinner. “We can talk outside. My assistant will look after him.”

You didn’t feel much inclined to listen, but still, even though it made you hate to fold on his behest—reluctantly, you accepted the sense of what he was saying. Looking back at your son still laughing up in his tower with cinched brows. You didn’t want to scare him when he didn’t know what was going on, even though you felt the need to scream at the very top of your lungs.

You allowed him to lead you outside, but as soon as the fresh air welcomed your rigid state, you were at once whipping around and pushing him away. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” snarling at him. “How fucking dare you?!”

“Calm down. He might still see us,” he hushed, hands raised in halfhearted surrender, casting a nod to the glass walls separating you from the frivolity inside. “Let’s just talk rationally.”

“Rationally?!” you scoffed in a shout, eyes still manic. “You fucking kidnapped my son, you psycho-”

“You wouldn’t answer my texts or calls,” he snubbed. “He’s my son too-”

“Fuck you,” you interrupted to return the favor. “If you fuck with me on this, I swear I’ll ruin you.” You had a finger raised at him, breathing furiously—looking down-right mad—sweaty and disheveled from your run with your face twisted with such a state of frenzy. “I’ll tell everyone how I got him in the first place!”

Despite the threat, he didn’t seem all that fazed. 

“Think about it…” he said calmly, much in contrast to you. “Who do you think people will believe? A teenage mom abusing her son for a paycheck or his estranged father wanting to provide for him?”

You blanched, and before anything else made it out—whether it be more rage or something else, he was already further silencing you.

“Not to mention… the trial would be gruesome, and Junior would have to grow up with it always hanging over his head—is that really what you want?”

You look at him, and you still can't believe it. How could it have turned out like this? You’d been perfect only a month ago before he’d shown up at your apartment.

You thought you’d sent him on his way for good that day, but only now did you realize he had no plans to leave you alone.

“Come, let’s talk in the car. It’s cold, and you’re not dressed,” he ushered, taking your arm again where you stood, stunned and still, trying to wrap your head around his threats. Letting yourself be led into the black vehicle standing perfectly parked in its neat white rectangle.

You both got in the back with enough room to battle your homey sofa nook at home.

“I don’t want this to get ugly,” he started anew—his voice still so irritatingly calm, unfairly so. “I just want to see my son-”

“He’s not yours,” you croaked, feeling the situation slip from your fingers—battling a drumming heart, shifty breaths, and the mean sting of tears welling up in your eyes.

“If you try and keep him from me, I’ll sue for full custody. And given I’m the only one out of us who isn’t a pro-bono case and the only one with any future that isn’t managing a register, I’d say I have a pretty fair shot at winning.”

You can’t keep from bursting out crying then, overwhelmed by the fear of losing the only thing that mattered and the pure disgust of the man who’d given it to you. It felt like everything was tearing—your whole life—crumbling before your eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he soothed, his hand coming to drape your hunched shoulders where you held your tears. “I don’t want to take him away from you…” His attempt did little to comfort you, but the next words had your heart grasping for what little hope they offered. “And I’m not going to either.”

You looked at him through the hurt of swollen eyes, tears still falling while he wiped them away with the course pad of his thumb—rubbing your cheek affectionately. In any other circumstance, you’d surely slap him, but right now, all you could do was listen.

“I’m buying a house,” he revealed, still holding your cheek and gaze. “Fit for a family. Safe neighborhood, good school district, giant backyard.” The list went over your head—it was all too surreal to register. You couldn’t even fathom what he was getting at until, “I want the two of you to come live there with me.”

Stunned, you remained completely silent until the tears dried, and he let go of your face. 

“You don’t have to say anything right now.” He reaches across you and fetches the seatbelt before coming back over you to click it in place. “I’ll go get Junior and drive you home. Just stay here.”

You do as suggested and stay seated as he pops his door open and leaves—feeling all but cemented in place as your thoughts go tumbling around and around as if caught in a rip curl. When Junior jumps in beside you, a farfetched smile is all you can offer. Thankfully, he’s so enamored by a toy he’d gotten to notice much of your state.

When your door opens again, you’re led out and onto your neighborhood street. The fresh air does little to clear your mind. Feeling all but feverish as you hold Junior's small hand in yours while the man of your nightmares smiles all too fondly at the two of you.

“I’ll come pick you up after your shift on Monday.,” he says decidedly—cheerfully as he ruffles Junior’s hair enough to make him giggle. “Bring the rascal with you, and he can pick his room first.”

You weren’t planning on staying. You were never planning on staying—certain you would leave the second the opportunity to skip town arose—you just need to scramble the money together first. 

But the house was huge… nothing you could ever dream of, and while it made you desperate with grief, you couldn’t deny it either… Junior really loved having a dad.

It nearly brought sick to your throat to call him that. It was a shot through the heart every time you heard Junior’s boyish call, squealing with giggles, saying “Daddy, daddy, daddy-”

None of it seemed right to you. Seeing his bright smile, now at the age where a new tooth fell out every other week—looking so goofy as he proudly shows the two of you the new one he’d just knocked out playing soccer at school. “Mommy, Daddy, look!”

What’s worse is that you can't even deny how good the man you hate is at it all—spoiling him with gifts and making him laugh—giving piggyback ride after air-plane flight after tickle-fight and a game of tag and hide’n’seek. 

And it’s not just the easy stuff. He’s good at the shit that used to make you go crazy—putting him to bed, getting him dressed, making him eat the right stuff, and not just scuffle down candy. It’s as if the two of them have developed a secret language you’re not a part of. If Junior weren’t a toddler, you’d even suspect he’d been bribed and told to do his best to make you lose your mind. But no, it’s just reality.

The man you live with drives and picks your son up from school as if he’d done it since he was born, goes with you to meet the teacher if and when he gets into trouble and helps the two of you pick out the right shoes—shoes that you can now afford, thanks to him.

“I thought I might sleep in the master bedroom tonight.” He says, leaning against the frame in the doorway.

You’d been living there a month now. He’d been generous enough to sleep in the guest room up until now.

You don’t know how to deny him. It feels as if anything you might say would just be ignored or threatened until you eventually took it back. You didn’t want him in your bed—you didn’t want him in the same house—in fact, preferably, you’d want him to be six feet deep in the dirt.

You end up not answering. But he’s used to that by now. 

“I get it…” he says, taking steps into the room you’d wrongfully thought was your safe space. “You don’t trust me.” He sits down at the edge of the bed and reaches out across the sheets. You’re too late to pull your feet to yourself before he has one in his hand. He doesn’t do much but stroke it. “But you can.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes you want to gouge them out. It’s all been some cruel joke ever since you moved in—all the pleasantries and presents, as if trying to distract you from the past. Your wardrobe is chockfull of it, and so is Junior’s room—filled to the brim with lies.

“I’m never gon’ hurt you.” Another lie. “I did you wrong once, and I’ll spend the rest of my life makin’ up for it.” 

You want to shake your head, laugh in his face—anything to reject it. But you’re terrified of what he might do if you didn’t play along. The threat of losing Junior is enough to make you cooperative.

“I know I’ve not been fair—pushin’ you into all of this so fast.” He gets down on his knees on the floor as if praying, right down beside you. “I took advantage of a vulnerable situation ‘cause I’m an impatient asshole—but I promise you—” He takes your hand in both of his. “If you give me the chance, I’m gon’ make our lives together like somethin’ outa’ a fuckin’ fairytale—all that happily ever after shit and more, just like you always wanted.”

The kiss he presses upon your knuckles beckons goosebumps to rise all across you. All his words feel like a bad script read by an even worse actor—in fact, this whole thing feels like a prank. And still, it doesn’t surprise you—he’s been laughing at you ever since you were children.

And now, laughing still, only with a fucking ringbox in his hand.

“I want Junior to see us as a united front. I don’t want him askin’ question why we ain’t sleepin’ in the same bed, why we fight behind locked doors, why you cry in the bathroom.” 

He pops the black velvet lid and reveals something so outrages it almost looks tacky lying there in a plush bed of red silk.

“I want us to be happy.” He picks the little thing out and holds it up between his thumb and index, still holding your hand in the other. “I want us to be real.” You can almost see your life flash before your eyes as it threatens your ring finger. “Let’s make us real.”

You don’t say anything as he eases the tiny hoop on, sliding it all the way back until it sits snugly right at your knuckle—dazzling in the dark. A tiny tear slips down your cheek—equally dazzling.

He played some with the digit—a smile on his face. 

“Looks good on you, Mrs.” As he calls you by his last name you almost shake the ring off as if it burned to wear, but it all gets lost when he rushes forward and locks his lips with yours.

You yelp against his mouth, kept from turning away by the large hand holding your jaw, threatening to seize your throat and squeeze. You remember how it had felt. You don’t want more of a reminder, so you intercept his tongue with yours before he forced it down your throat.

He groans at the warm welcome, and your entire body shudders in memory.

You hadn’t let anyone touch you since that time five years ago. It had left a poor taste in your mouth, and the hunger for it had never come back.

You choke it down now as he climbs on top. 

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[babygirl-riley]

Welcome Home

You surprise Simon at the base instead of being at home. You also think about how far he has come to acceptance.

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, fluff, dad!simon, angst, pregnancy

“I’ve fallen for it, I’ve fallen for it somehow.”

A/N: THE PART TWO DAD!SIMON FROM @ave661 IS KILLLINGGGG ME! Seriously chokehold she has me in ALL the time with her art. 😭

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

You called Price beforehand, asked him if it was alright to surprise Simon. You wanted to show up at the base with your baby girl waiting for him. Like you always do. Thankfully and full heartedly he agreed, he even added that he is excited to see his niece. On the way to the base you felt excitement as you played music for both you and your baby.

Your baby gabbles as she plays with hanging baby toys on her car seat. Simon has been gone for a month, it has been so long and you were so excited. He missed having her first tooth, which he will be so excited to see.

Once you got you and your child out of the car you headed to the inside of the base. “141 will be landing in 5 minutes ma’am.” A man said guiding you to the tarmac. “Captain Price said to meet them there.”

You followed the solider to the direction of the tarmac. You knew very well where it was at, a year ago you were on the team for 141 but decided to retire once you found out you were pregnant. Memories littered the hallways as you held your baby close.

“No.” He mumbled as you both stood in your room. He didn’t move for a moment, you thought he was going to leave and not come back for hours. Simon doesn’t do well with emotions but the last couple of months, he has been able to open up more. Now this. You didn’t know how he was going to react let alone what he was going to do.

It was clear, two lines, one word, 6 tests. You and Simon have been in secret for 2 years, established a relationship in a year. You played with your hands as nerves started to kick in. “I thought you were on birth control.” Simon said looking up at you, his eyes only to be shown. The skull mask looking at you.

“I am.” You said your heart slowly hurting, you knew that he never wanted a kid. You knew of his past so this was a joke for the both of you. It was frowned upon when a lieutenant would be sleeping with their sergeant. Hell damn near court marshaled.

Simon looked back down at the tests. He can’t. He won’t. His mind racing a million miles an hour. How could he explain this one to Price? How could you hide a belly on the force? Is there a way for it to be a secret anymore? He cursed himself for loving the fact that he could breed you. It was a new found kink, with him thinking of his cum coating your walls. Simon never broadcast it to you. Telling you that seeing a belly got him feral, thinking about how your body would react to his gift. But…It’s just…is it too soon? Was he ready? Surely he couldn’t be.

“I can get…”

“No,” He cut you off before looking up at you. “This…Not that. ‘M,” his voice trailed. No abortion, he won’t put your body through hell just because both of you didn’t want to wrap it. “I just-I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either,” You whispered walking slowly up to him. “But we can figure this out?”

Simon nodded once still looking at the tests. You waited as he stood there and sighed. “We have to tell Price now.”

“Here is the tarmac,” The solider said breaking you from your thoughts. “It looks like they have just landed.”

You mumbled a thank you as soldiers came out one by one from the plane. All covered in dirt or blood, tired written on their faces. You frowned knowing that Simon felt the same, it couldn’t have gone the way it suppose to.

You smiled as you walked out watching Gaz come out first, happy surprise on his face. He looked to the side of him to see Soap, who smiled at you nodded. Price smiled, heading towards the direction you were before stopping. Simon, walked out last, almost stopped in his tracks.

Smile beaming on his face underneath the skull mask. His girls. He be-lined to you and your baby girl. His heart beating quickly, as excitement coursed through his veins.

Price stood as both of his teammates broke the news. He had his suspicions of them fucking around but not together. He itches his beard as your tears start to mellow out. Simon was not looking at him but folding his arms while leaning against the wall.

It was like two of his kids came home after school to get hounded at. It was amusing if Price wasn’t angry. Yes. He was at first, his lieutenant and his best sniper in a bit of a bind. She has to be discharged no way will Price NOR Simon let her go out in the field. Especially since they voiced they are keeping the kid.

“We keep it low,” Price finally spoke watched as both of you looked up. “We have to slowly discharge you, not try to have eyes on the situation until then. No missions for you.”

You nodded, first time every has he seen you so shy. Timid. Usually you had confidence written all over you. “Yes sir.” You mumbled looking away.

Price looked at Simon. “I want to have a discussion with you,” He looked at you as you stared at him. You both are young, younger than him anyway. He seen how Simon’s demeanor changed throughout the years when you came on the force. Of course no one else saw it, but Price did. He always knew. “Dismissed Sargent.”

Your baby squealed with delight as she bounced in your arms. “Da! Da!” She yelled as Simon walked over, having heads turn to see the little baby showed her excitement. Simon did take note that she knew who he was and in fact used ‘dada.’

Simon almost damn near sprinted as he walked up to both of you. You let him take your baby as he grabbed her, she screamed laughed, as he rose her to the air. Holding her sides gently but firm. She is so tiny compared to him, she kicked her feet softly in the air, laughing her little head off. Simon loves that sound, the sound of pure joy coming from her. To the point he didn’t give a damn who was around them. Simon was never a shower when it came to his private life, but when she was around wow, he would make sure everyone knew who she was.

Simon sat across the table from you, your bump more noticeable, 6 months to be exact. He still couldn’t believe that what was growing inside you was his. Part of him. Something that he would have never thought would be done. Or have. You have become more aware and accepting of having the child. Yet he still hasn’t.

“I know it will take time Si,” You said knowing always what he was thinking. Simon snapped his eyes up at you, he felt guilt for sure. You were just honorable discharged and he stayed in the force. “I can’t make you feel happy about this. But…But I know eventually you will.”

He didn’t believe you until one night he laid between your legs as you rubbed the back of his head. Simon chuckled lightly at the tv show you were both watching right when it happened,felt a small poke to his head, he froze, you felt him tense. “What…what that?”

You giggled lowly as you rubbed your belly. “It’s the baby,” He still didn’t move when he felt it again. “She moves a lot when you make any sort of noise.” Simon rose slightly, looking up at you, curiously. You grabbed his hand and placed it where she was. His eyes trained on his hand. “Say something.” You whispered.

Simon looked at you unsure before clearing his throat. “Uh, hello baby girl.” It took a second before he felt the bump move to his hand. A soft graze. He snapped his eyes up at you and tears brimming your eyes, nodding. Encouraging him to continue. Simon’s eyes started to water, everything hitting, even when she isn’t out here she was wanting him. Knowing that he is her dad. And she was his baby.

His hand rubbed your belly. “‘Ight ass kicker. I’m happy to hear ya too.”

“Hello my angels,” He said as slowly held her close to him. Her head cradled inside of his neck. Her hands gripping his uniform. He placed a hand on the back of her hand holding her close. You smiled as he placed his other gloved hand on your cheek. “Why ya ‘ere?”

“I couldn’t wait at home,” You stated as people passed the both of you. “She couldn’t either,” you bumped your shoulder against his. “Told you it was dada.” You teased talking about the last time you both were on the phone. Her screaming ‘da da da,’ knowing damn well it was her daddy on the phone. Simon would tease and say that she got your intelligence since she was only 5 months.

Simon chuckled rolling his eyes, turning his head as she rose from his shoulder. She started towards his skull mask gripping the bottom of it. “Not yet sweethear,’” he whispered gently grabbing her hands. “We are gonna debrief it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Lass,” You laughed as the scottish came up from behind Simon. Slapping his back. “Oh well hello little miss.” He scratched softly underneath her chin. She laughed again shaking her head as she clung onto her dad. “Yer playing hard to get now?” He teased and looked at you.

“Hey Johnny,” You laughed reaching for your baby. She came to you with ease, which you mentally sighed in relief, hoping that she wouldn’t ball her little eyes out when she watched her dad leave. “We will wait on the cafeteria.”

Simon placed his forehead against yours. “It will be quick.” He whispered.

You nodded as you watched them all file into the base. Your baby holding onto you cooing. “Why don’t you ever get that excited to see me,” You playfully glared poking her stomach. She giggled swatting your finger away. “Brat.” You laughed taking her and you to the cafeteria.

[entitled-fangirl]

It's like heaven.

Felix Catton x reader

SMUT

Summary: Felix can't keep his hands off his angel at the party. Smut later in the story.

Words: 1,676

Warnings: p in v, cursing, Oliver being a perv

Author's note: This is from an ask! Y'all are so creative, I love it!!!

Masterlist

18+ please!

.......................................................................

He was utterly speechless.

When he saw her, he was speechless.

She had wanted to surprise him, of course, shooing him from their bedroom when he was finished getting ready for the party so she could get dolled up.

Now, here she stood in a somewhat scandalous piece feeling beautiful, a halo placed on her head for the theme.

He simply stood in the doorway, his jaw dropped.

She saw him in the mirror, whipping around, "Felix! I said to wait until I was done!"

He shook out of his stupor, moving towards her with a smirk, "I forgot my angel wings but JESUS am I glad I came back." He placed his hands on her waist, "I mean, look at you, pretty girl…" His eyes held a look of admiration and lust. 

She stepped back with a giggle, "Not yet. I'm not done. Shoo, Lex…" She then turned around, moving back to finish her eyeliner in the mirror.

He pulled her towards him again, her back hitting his firm abs. His lips began to trace her neck as he looked at her in the mirror, mumbling, "…what is there left to finish, angel?"

She stood when she was satisfied with the eyeliner, turning around in his arms. "…just my shoes. And… I'm no angel."

He smirked leaning down to give a kiss, his voice a slight growl, "you're my angel."

The kiss was sweet and held a lot of emotion, considering how it was soon going to become something more. She pulled away, placing a hand on his chest, "…Lex."

He pulls away with a groan, "Forget the party, beautiful."

She laughs, "No! I got ready for this, Lex. Even if you don't like the birthday boy, we still have to go!"

He would always give in to her. 

He smiles, leaning in towards her again, hands beginning to wander before she stopped him, "What's going on with you tonight?"

"You're just so fucking pretty. My pretty angel. Can't keep my hands to myself."

She reaches down, taking her hand in his before she pulled him out of the bedroom and towards the party.

…

She was sat on Felix's lap when Oliver opened the door.

Felix was sitting on the small table of the overly-crowded bathroom, the pretty angel balanced on one of his thighs. He sighed when he saw Oliver.

"Felix, can I talk to you for one second?"

She looked at Felix to gauge his reaction, seeing that his eyebrows was slightly raised. He then ignores Oliver's question all together, lighting a cigarette, his other hand on his girl's thigh.

Oliver cleared his throat, "You can't ignore me forever."

He immediately rebutted, "I can try."

"Felix, we need to talk." When Felix didn't move, Oliver became insistent, "Felix, come on!"

He sighed, reaching up to place the cigarette between his angel's lips. She gladly accepts, "Look, man, I tried to be nice, but can you fuck off and bother somebody else?"

The others in the room chuckled at the interaction as they did lines off the table and floor.

Oliver stood in the doorway for a while in thought, his eyes now falling to the angel on Felix's lap. He observed her. Watched her watching him. He then turned, leaving the bathroom.

"Who was that?" Someone asked.

…

"C'mon, Lex. I wanna dance!"

She pulled him through the crowd by his hand, his wings getting hit as he passed by people, muttering quick apologies. 

"Yes, angel, yes. I'll dance with you. Anything to get you close to me."

The music was blaring, the lights overstimulating, but they didn't care. They were two college kids in love, and nothing would stop them.

He pulled her to him, their bodies pressed close together as they began to dance. 

A frown suddenly pulled to her face.

He leaned down, trying to whisper but having to yell to communicated, "Angel? Are you alright?"

She nods, her eyes staring at something in the distance. 

He turned, following her gaze.

Oliver sat at the sidelines, hoarding a bottle all to him, drinking his problem away.

But it wasn't working.

Because he wouldn't quit looking at them.

And now they noticed.

Felix frowned as well, leaning down to her once more, his eyes not leaving Oliver's, "Fuck him. Don't let him ruin this for us."

She turned back to look at him, "I don't know…"

He laughed, "You got all pretty for me, angel! Let me enjoy it for the night, yeah? No need to worry about what's tomorrow's problem!"

She nodded, letting him pull her back to him.

As his hands began to wander, so were his thoughts. 

God, she was pretty. He was blessed by the gods above for sending an angel so pure and kind as this one. His own little pretty girl. His pretty angel.

A song ended, and Felix reached down, grabbing her hand. He started to pull her away, and she wouldn't resist.

…

They walked out towards the maze, holding hands. They exchanged giggles as the alcohol kicked in. 

When they neared the entrance, she stopped, "Do you know what you're doing, Lex?"

He nodded, "'Course, angel. Wouldn't take you here if I didn't." He kissed her head, pulling her once again.

They both entered the maze, happy and in love.

What they didn't know, was that Oliver had entered too.

…

What felt like hours later, and too many turns to count, the two lovers were now in a passionate kiss, their hands wandering over each others bodies. 

He pulled away just enough to speak, "…you want me, angel?"

She nodded, "please…"

He pulled away completely, holding her jaw in his hand, a grin on his face, "I need to hear you say it."

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her voice soft, "I want you, Felix. Please."

That was all he needed.

They began to pull at each other's clothes, anything that would separate the two from each other. 

She reached up to pull off her halo, but his hand grabbed her wrist, "Don't."

She smiled into the kiss, pulling at his tank top.

Now, maybe half dressed, Felix pulled her up on to the base of the statue, holding her in place. Their kiss never broke as he began to move his fingers further down her body.

Her mouth opened slightly in an intake of breath as his gently pressed a finger into her core.

He smiled, his voice soft, "You can take it, angel. Feels good, yeah?"

She could only let out a whimper as he began to gently pump it in and out of her.

He whispered in her ear the entire time, his voice slightly gravely with lust, "Good… doing so good… stretching you out for me, baby… sweet girl…"

When two fingers were added, she pushed her head into his shoulder to avoid making too much noise.

He found it all amusing, watching her eyes close in concentration as her throat made small noises in pleasure.

When she was finally considered ready by his standards, he gently pulled his cock out. It was already hard at this point. It had been almost the entire night after seeing her in the outfit. 

He grabbed at her jaw again, "You're very sure, angel?"

She was a begging mess, her mind already mush, "please, Lex. Make me feel good, please…"

He smiled, "Anything for my angel."

He gently pushed his cock into her, both letting out a small hiss. 

She grabbed his biceps tightly, her eyes strunched a bit, trying to relax herself. 

His hand were on the bottom of her thighs, giving himself leverage, "… doing so good for me…"

He stopped when he bottomed out, giving her a moment to collect herself and adjust. He used this moment to kiss her neck softly, "God, being in you is like heaven."

And he began to thrust.

She let out small, soft little grunts and moans, her hands moving over his body in search of where to find relief. One hand eventually found his hair, pulling slightly as he let out a small, "oh, fuck."

Only the sound of skin pressed against one another was heard throughout the heart of the maze. 

"You're my angel… such a pretty little angel, aren't you?"

She whimpered, his cock hitting her g spot just right. 

"You're gonna cum for me, aren't you… ugh… good girl… cum for me…"

Her voice was barely heard, "…Lex…."

He grinned, his lips still kissing at her neck, "C'mon, pretty girl. You can give me one-"

Oliver's voice came from the bushes where they entered, "Felix…"

Felix stopped, staring at his sweet little angel, whose eyes were wide with fear. He sighed, "Oh, Jesus Christ!" He pulled his pants back to their original position, zipping them up. He turned around, covering her body with himself, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you?"

She placed a hand on Felix's back, her head peering over his shoulder, "Were you spying on us?"

"No, I wasn't." He began to walk forward. 

Felix stood a bit taller, continuing to block Oliver's view. "Mate, let the fucking lady get dressed. You sick fuck."

Oliver held his hands up, turning himself around. 

Felix quickly turned, helping his angel get redressed. 

Once done, he pulled her to him, gently kissing the top of her head. He leaned towards her, whispering in her ear once more, "…go to the bedroom. I'll be there."

She nodded, her eyes filled slightly with tears. She walked forward, going to move past Oliver.

Oliver reached out a grabbed her wrist. He pulled her to him, "May want to fix that." He straightened the halo on her head, watching her nervous reaction, "Wouldn't want people to think you're naughty, do you?"

Felix stepped forward, his voice dark and threatening, "Oliver…"

Oliver let go of the girl, a slight smirk on his face. 

She left the maze to go to the bedroom, having no idea Felix would never see his angel again. 

........................................................

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Let Me Take Care of You

aegon x dragonseed!fem!reader

Summary: You find work at a pleasure house to help support yourself and come across a very generous client. You were content to only serve drinks and allow the men who chased after your silver hair tip you in hopes of bedding you until this client offers to take care of you. 

Warnings: 18+ mentions of death(not mc), swearing, corruption, thigh riding, fingering, oral(f), p in v, loss of virginity 

Authors Note: idk he’s a bit of a sugar daddy and it’s kinda hot, proud of myself for making an aegon fic w/o angst for once but that’s bc its 2% plot and 98% porn

Word Count: 4.8k

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Growing up I watched my mother leave our small apartments before the sun would set and not come home until it was well in the sky again. She promised me I would never have to go into her line of work and would always keep me hidden inside. Once a month she would spend the money on dye and my telling silver hair would come out a dark shade of night. The violet eyes were harder to hide but no one pays attention to you when you’re a woman and you keep your head down. 

A year ago my mother left for the night and never returned. I was only ten and nine and had no income for myself. I waited for a fortnight and when she never returned I steeled myself and went out into the streets to see if I could find any word on her. I covered my head of silver in a scarf since I had no dye and roamed the streets looking for her place of work. After pushing through hundreds of bodies in the streets I found the wooden door and made my way inside. The stench of alcohol and lust was heavy in the air as I waded my way to the bar. 

“What can I do you for, girl?” the bar hands gruff voice spoke over the others. 

“I’m looking for my mother.” I offered her name and an older woman came from the back and nodded for me to follow her. 

The woman sat me down and told me of my mother’s death at the hand of greedy older men who didn’t want to pay. The woman looked me over with sadness and pity before offering me work. I shook my head saying I wouldn’t and that’s when she glanced at my hair. She told me she could find me other work within the pleasure house and if I ever changed my mind there would be good coin. 

I reluctantly accepted the offer because I knew I would need coin and soon. I spend my nights here waiting tables and laughing at crude jokes. Their hands and eyes always seem to linger but the patrons know that I am off limits per the madams word. I was content enough and the income was good but I so badly dreamed of a better life. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

The first time I saw him I stumbled and dropped my tray of drinks. He looked up and his lilac eyes caught mine and he was standing above me in an instant. He held out his hand and helped me rise from the dusty floor. 

“Gods,” he groans looking me over. “Who are you?” he takes some of my hair between his fingers. “And where have you been hiding?” his hand trails to my chin and searches over my violet eyes. 

“Y/n.” my voice too small for the crowded room. 

“Who are your parents?” he tugs me back to his table that’s overflowing with drinks and friends. 

“My mother was no one. I know not who my father is.” I shake my head trying to get my hand out of his grasp. 

“Mm, probably Daemon.” he looks me over. “You shall be mine.” he pulls me down onto his lap and I gasp. 

“I will not be.” I stand looking down at him as he laughs looking up at me. “I am no one’s but my own.” I hum taking a step back. 

“So you mean you’re a virgin?” his eyes darken. 

“That is hardly any of your business.” I turn up my nose at him. 

“Given our setting and how deep my pockets are I say that it is.” he friends start to turn their attention to us. 

“I don’t care.” I shrug my shoulders and walk away hearing his friends laugh at him. 

That night I went back to my small apartments and had a fitful nights rest filled with that handsome strangers face. I curse myself for wanting to know his name and to be able to see him again. I push the thought out of my head and blow the candle out before turning over and shutting my eyes.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

The silver haired stranger came back the next day but alone this time. I floated around the room avoiding him and helping out other patrons. I felt his eyes on me for an hour until I stopped at his table and looked at him expectantly. He folds his hands and looked up to me with a smile. 

“How much?” he licks his lips. 

“For what?” I raise my eyebrow. 

“Your maidenhead.” my cheeks flush at his words. 

“I’m not for sale.” I say quickly. 

“Then I’ll have an ale.” he offers me a gold mark and my eyebrows scrunch. 

“This is too much.” I try to give it back but he shakes his head. 

“I was thinking it wasn’t enough.” he pulls out a sack and sets it on the table. 

“You’re not getting my maidenhead tonight.” I roll my eyes and walk to go get his ale. I sigh once I get behind the bar to fill his cup. I pray that my blush recedes by the time I make it back to his table. I grab the glass and push through the bodies. 

“So I just can’t have it tonight?” he smiles taking the glass from my hand. 

“What?” I tilt my head. 

“You said I can’t have your maidenhead tonight. So I can take it a different night?” my blush revives much to my displeasure. 

“I don’t even know your name.” he chuckles at my words.

“Aegon.” he looks up taking a sip of ale. 

“Why do you think I’m giving my maidenhead to you, Aegon?” I look him over. 

“Because I asked nicely?” he shrugs. 

“You didn’t.” I turn and he grabs my wrist. 

“Do you wish for me to beg for it?” he pulls me back to him. 

“Is that not what you’ve been doing the past two nights?” I chuckle shaking my head. 

“What if I show you other things first?” he smirks.

“Like what?” I look down to him with a raised brow and his smile widens. 

“I’d like to show you instead of tell you.” he downs his ale and stands. 

“Right now?” I squeak nervously. “I have other tables.” I look around the crowded room. 

“I’m sure if you tell your madam you’re taking me to a private room she won’t tell you no.” he brushes a strand of my hair back. 

“I-“ I shake my head willing my blush to go away. My breathing deepens at the thought of bringing him to a private room but I also don’t know if I’m ready for that. “I don’t know.” I nibble my lip.

“I promise I won’t take your maidenhead. Tonight.” he smirks. “Not even if you beg me to.” I roll my eyes at his words. 

I look at him having an internal battle. I’m not stupid, I’ve heard of him and I know his reputation but I can’t help myself. He’s just so handsome and I’m curious. I turn and look for my madam and when I spot her I see her nodding at me encouragingly. I sigh and turn back to Aegon who is waiting for my response. 

“Fine, but I can change my mind whenever I want.” he nods his head quickly and pulls me in the direction of the closed off rooms. Once we’re behind the curtain he pulls me against him. 

“Have you come before?” his voice low and I shake my head. “Not even by yourself? You don’t touch this sweet little-“

“No, Aegon.” I bring my hand up to his mouth. I remove my hand and he’s smiling even wider. 

“Surely you’ve kissed someone at least?” he raises an eyebrow and my cheeks catch on fire. 

“No.” his eyes widen. “If you make fun of me I will walk back out these curtains.” I step back crossing my arms. 

“I would be more than happy to teach you the ways of pleasure.” he hums caressing my cheek.

“My dress is staying on.” I try to keep my voice steady but it wavers. 

“There’s plenty of pleasure to be had above clothes.” he steps closer to me and my body heats. “Can I kiss you?” he leans in closer and I look to him with wide eyes and nod my head. When his lips touch mine I look at him unsure of what to do. “Relax.” he murmurs against my lips and trails his fingers up my arms. I let out a shaky breath and nod my head. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t- I don’t know what to do.” I shake my head flushing furiously. 

“I’m here to show you, my sweet girl.” he hums brushing my hair back. “Close your eyes.” I look at him worried. “My hands will stay above your clothes.” he nods encouragingly. 

“Okay.” my voice small as my eyes flutter shut. This time when he places his lips on mine it feels more soft and coaxing. He licks along my lip and my heart starts to beat faster. His hands land on my hips and I gasp at his touch and he pushes his tongue into my mouth. My eyes fly open and pull back. 

“It’s okay.” he nods his head pulling me back. “Just follow my movements.” he whispers as he places his lips on mine again. This time when his tongue explores my mouth I move mine along with his. They dance together and he pulls me closer. I sigh into his mouth as I’m encased in the taste and feel of him. He squeezes my waist pulling me flush against him. 

“Aegon,” I gasp pulling my head back. 

“Hm?” he kisses down the side of my jaw. “Kisses here are a different kind of pleasure.” he mumbles kissing across my neck. I gasp as he sucks softly and my hands cling onto his arms. He licks softly as my breathing deepens. A moan falls from my lips as he nips against my pulse. 

“Aegon,” I wiggle out of his arms suddenly hot. 

“Gods look how worked up you are.” he smirks at me. 

“That’s enough for tonight.” I go to flee the room and he grabs my wrist. 

“Here, this is for you.” he places his sack of coin in my hand. 

“I don’t want to be paid for that. It makes me feel-“ I shake my head making a face. 

“I’m not paying you for your time, I’m just giving you coin because I want to. Use it for whatever.” he shrugs. “I like the idea of taking care of you, sweet girl.” he hums and my blush revives. 

“Thank you.” my voice small as I slip the coin into my pocket. 

“I will see you tomorrow.” he smiles as I slip through the curtain once more. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Aegon has been coming to my pleasure house every night for the past moon. He teases me relentlessly throughout the night before he pulls me back behind a curtain and molds our lips together. We keep our lips locked for hours and when I get too worked up I turn and leave with a coin heavy pocket. The amount of coin he has given me could allow me to leave this job but I don’t want to stop seeing him. That thought alone frustrates me. 

“How are you tonight, sweet girl?” he hums as he pulls the curtains closed. I pull him against me and press my lips to his in response and he chuckles against me. He backs us up to the bed and I pull back. 

“Not yet.” I shake my head. 

“You torture me.” he groans. “Let me show you another pleasure.” his eyes pleading. 

“Above clothes?” I nibble my lip. 

“Of course.” he chuckles tugging me over to the chair he sits down and guides me between his legs. “Straddle one of my thighs.” my cheeks heat at his words. He goes to pull my skirts up and I grab his hands with wide eyes. 

“You said above clothes.” my brows scrunch. 

“You have small clothes on, no?” he smiles as my face gets redder as I nod. “I’m just lifting up your skirts so you can settle more comfortably on my thigh.” he bunches up my skirts and I place my legs on either side of his thigh. He lets my skirts drop and pulls me against him. He pulls my lips against his and I settle onto his thigh. His hands go to my waist and pull me against his thigh.

“Aegon,” his name falls from my mouth breathlessly as I rest my hands behind his neck.

“It’s okay.” he hums as kisses me once more. Our tongues tangle together and he starts to rock me against his thigh. My small clothes become wet as I squirm against him as I gasp into his mouth. He pulls back and looks to me as he grinds my hips down. 

“Aegon, I-“ my voice broken as my hips move with him. 

“Does that feel good?” he looks up to me.

“Yes, I- please,” I whimper resting my forehead against his. My hips move on their own and my cheeks flush at the action. He tilts up and captures my lips swallowing all of my noises. I let out small gasps as I feel my stomach tightening. “I don’t know what’s-“ I cry out as he rocks my hips faster. 

“Shh, just focus on the feeling, sweet girl, I got you.” he murmurs against my lips. I roll my hips on his thigh as he starts to kiss down my neck. I lose myself in the feeling and I cling to him as pleasure bursts through me.

“Aegon,” his name like a prayer as he keeps moving me against him as I try to catch my breath. “Too much,” I whine trembling above him. 

“You did so good.” he kisses me softly. 

“I liked that.” I mumble against his lips. 

“I did too. You looked and sounded absolutely divine. Just wait until I show you more.” he kisses down my neck. 

“No more tonight.” my voice still breathy as I rise off of his thigh. I look down and see the wet mark on his thigh and my eyes widen in horror. “I’m sorry, do you want me to clean it or-“ 

“Oh no, I will walk out of here proudly with this.” he rises walking out of the room with me. “Before I forget sweet girl.” he hums handing me coin and I turn to him in the abandoned hall.

“Why do you keep giving me coin?” I scrunch my brows searching his eyes. 

“I want to take care of you.” he brushes my hair behind my ears. “What if I got you a new place. A nicer place?” he hums and I shake my head confused. 

“I don’t know.” I nibble my lip. “That’s a lot, Aegon.” 

“I would like you to live inside the Keep with me but I have a feeling you’ll say no.” he pulls me closer to him once more. 

“No,” I shake my head with wide eyes. “A new place fine but not the Red Keep.” 

“I’ll have you in a grand home by the end of the week.” he kisses me quickly before bringing me back out into the main room. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

My new home is located on the complete other side of the city than my job and Aegons only help with that was to tell me to quit. I had no reason to work there anymore. Aegon has seen to it that all of my needs are met and exceedingly so. The home I have is larger than anything one person would need and he’s made it so that there are servants and maids and I feel so out of place. They dote on me and do anything I could possibly need and more. 

“We have dinner prepared. Is there anything else you need before we leave for the night?” one of the soft spoken servants asks. 

“No, thank you. Have a good night.” I offer them a smile and they filter out the front door. 

I sigh and sprawl across my couch waiting for my dinner companion to come over. I hate to admit that I look forward to our nightly meals and pleasure. I thought I would get bored during the days but I’ve been able to find comfort in reading and embroidery. I sit up from the couch when I hear his telling knocks. 

“Hi.” my voice small as I open the door. No matter how many times I see him I still get nervous. 

“How are you today, sweet girl?” he steps in and pulls me into a tight embrace.

“Better now that you’re here.” I hum into his neck. “How was your day?” I pepper his neck with kisses. 

“Nothing compared to how it is now.” his words cause a blush to cover my cheeks. 

“Come, dinner is ready.” I turn to head to the table and he slips his fingers through mine. 

“How is your staff? Are they treating you well?” he pulls my chair out for me. 

“Yes, very well, Aegon. I don’t see why I need so many of them..” I watch him as he walks around the table to sit across from me. 

“Because I don’t want you to have to do anything.” he smiles at me as before he begins to eat.

“Are you going to hire someone to pleasure me next?” his eyes darken at my words. 

“No, that is my job.” he sets his fork down. 

“It was only a joke. I wouldn’t replace you.” I chuckle. 

“Do you pleasure yourself during the day?” he tilts his head. 

“No.” I say quickly. “There’s too many people here.” I shake my head. 

“I can make it so they’ll leave for an hour so you can touch yourself and think about me.” he chuckles at my flushed face. 

“No,” I shake my head quickly. “I don’t- I don’t touch myself.” I avoid his eyes. 

“Do you know how?” he licks his lips and I shake my head. “Can I show you after dinner?” 

“Under my clothes?” my heart beats faster at the thought. 

“Yes, if that’s okay. I could just pull up your skirts too. Whatever makes you the most comfortable.” I shake my head picking up my fork to eat again. We eat in silence as I start to squirm thinking about what’s to come. Every time I glance at him he’s looking at me with dark eyes. I start to get up to clear the table. 

“Are you done?” I stand next to him waiting to take his plate. 

“I can clean up too.” he hums standing up with me. We walk to the kitchen and the energy between us is tense. I take the plate from his hands and place it in the sink. When I turn back to him he pulls me against him kissing me. “Can we go to the bed?” he whispers against my lips.  

“Yeah,” I nod grabbing his hand. I walk us into my bed chambers and turn to him nibbling my lip. 

“Do you want your dress on or off?” his hands trail around my waist. 

“Off.” my voice small. 

“You’re sure?” his hands trail up to the laces. 

“Yes, Aegon.” I nod my head. He slowly undoes the laces and begins to slip it down my shoulders. It pools around my feet and he steps back and looks at me left in my slip. 

“What of this?” he steps closer as hands reach for my waist. 

“Can it stay for now?” I ask squeezing my thighs. 

“Of course. Come,” he leads me to the bed. He sits back against the head board and helps me sit between his legs. His hands rest on my thighs and I suck in a breath. He opens my legs resting them against his. “Are you ready?” his voice sounds strained as I settle back into him. 

“Yes,” I nod my head and his hands begin to roam up my side. 

“When you’re by yourself you can work yourself up to it.” he hums as his hands linger under my breasts. His soft touch over my silk is sending shivers down my body. His fingers graze over my hardened peaks and I push back into him. 

“Aegon,” I shudder as he continues to ghost his thumbs around them and I squeeze my thighs shut. 

“Focus on the feeling, sweet girl.” he whispers before he starts to kiss my neck. His fingers incase my nipples and roll them as I whimper in his arms. “How does it feel?” he pinches them and I gasp. 

“Aegon,” I wiggle back into him and he grunts. 

“Feels good?” I hear the smirk in his voice. He starts to spread my thighs once more and I’m panting by the time he starts to slide his hands up. He trails a single finger through my wetness and my legs clamp around his hand. 

“Aegon,” I whine as my hands hold his arm. 

“Do you want me to stop?” I shake my head at his words. 

“No.” my voice broken.

“Let me make you feel good, sweet girl.” his other hand goes to my legs to open them once more. His finger slides through my wetness once more as I squirm in his arms. He swirls around my bud and my legs start shaking as I cry out. He starts quick circles and I begin to arch off of his chest. 

“Please, I- Aegon,” I whimper as my legs shut around him as my pleasure washes through me. He continues to circle his fingers and I whine grabbing his wrist. 

“That’s what you can do during the day.” he chuckles lowly still wiggling his fingers. 

“I’d rather have you do it.” my breathing deepens. 

“Can I try something else?” he kisses up my jaw. 

“Like what?” I lean back into him. 

“I want to make you come with my tongue.” he moves out from behind me and I fall back onto the bed. He settles between my thighs and I prop up and look down to him. 

“What do I do?” I bite my lip as his hands trail up my thighs. 

“Tell me how much you like it.” he smiles before licking up my slit. 

“Oh,” I squeak. His tongue swirls around my bud and I gasp fisting the sheets. “Aegon,” I whine moving against his face. I feel him chuckle into me as he pulls my hips against him. My breathing comes out in quick gasps as his tongue laps against me. 

“I’m gunna- I’m, please,” I jerk against his face and his tongue slips around my entrance. “Yes,” I cry as his nose brushes against me. His tongue pushes into me and his name pours from my mouth. My legs squeeze around his head as my pleasure tears through me. He continues to lick me and I whimper above him. 

“I want to stay here for a while.” he buries himself back between my thighs and my hand flies to his hair as I gasp above him. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

“Hi.” my eyebrows scrunch as I open the door and see Aegon and it’s only mid morning. “You’re here early.” I hum letting him in. 

“I had a bad morning.” he sighs pulling me into his arms. 

“Aegon, the staff.” my eyes dart around the room. 

“I don’t care.” he mumbles against my neck. “I just want to spend the day with you.” he lets go and lays back on my couch. 

“What happened?” I sit in the chair across from him. 

“My mother yelled at me and,” he sighs and shakes his head. “I just want to be with you.” 

“You can stay.” I hum and his sad eyes slide to mine. “Do you want me to get you anything?” 

“Wine?” he sits up and I nod my head going to the kitchen. I smooth my dress and hair before I pour us each a glass. I bring them back out to him and he takes a drink once it’s in his grasp. 

“What do you want to do?” I look across to him. 

“Send the staff home.” he looks at me with dark eyes. 

“Why?” my voice small. 

“I want to make you feel good.” he sits up. He stands up and walks into the kitchen and starts to dismiss the staff. I stand near the front door with flushed cheeks. Once the last servant leaves he pulls me against him. “I need you.” his voice pleading and I nod my head. 

“You can.” I nod my head searching his eyes. 

“If you’re not ready that’s okay.” he holds my cheeks. 

“I want you, Aegon.” I kiss his lips. “You can have my maidenhead.” he groans against me and pulls me upstairs to my bed. He unlaces my dress and I’m quickly stepping out of it. His hands reach for the edges of my slip and I nod as he searches my eyes. 

“You’re positive?” I nod my head to him quickly. He lifts it over my head and I look to him as he drinks in my body before him. “Gods, my sweet girl. Let me just touch you.” his hands reach for my waist. 

“Please,” I nod my head and his hands reach for my breasts. I sigh as he kneads against my flesh. 

“Lay back on the bed.” he nods and I scoot back as he starts to pull his tunic off. I watch him with lidded eyes as he starts to tug off his pants. I look to his length and bite my lip before looking back up to him. He crawls between my legs and licks at my wetness. As his lips encase my bud I feel one of his fingers dip into my core. 

“Aegon,” I gasp as he starts to move his finger faster. A second finger starts to slowly push in and I press myself against his face as his tongue continues to lap at me. “Yes, please,” I whine as my stomach starts to coil. His tongue lashes my throbbing bud and I come undone around his fingers crying out. 

“I’ll go slow.” he hums pulling his fingers out. He rubs his tip around my wetness to spread against himself. “Ready?” I feel him at my core. 

“Yes.” I hold him against me. He pushes in and I feel myself splitting open. “Aegon.” I grip his arms as he stops. 

“Relax for me, sweet girl.” he hums kissing my neck. His thumb brushes against my bud and small whimpers leave my mouth. He pushes in more and I sigh squirming. “Are you okay?” his voice strained as he stops again. 

“Yes,” he pushes in more and my eyes shut focusing on the feeling. “More, Aegon.” my voice breathy as I begin to relax around him. He starts a slow rhythm that has me whining beneath him. His thumb forever swirling against my bud has me shaking in his arms and my high bursts through me unexpectedly and he stops his movements groaning. 

“Fuck,” he grunts. I cling against him as he starts to rock into me again as he starts to seek his own pleasure. His lips capture mine as my hips move to meet his. “You’re perfect, sweet girl.” he whispers as his hips falter. I cry out at his words. My toes curl as I come undone again. He slows inside of me as his warmth spreads. 

“I want you to do that again.” I pant and he lets out a breathy chuckle. 

“Just give me a couple minutes.” he rolls off of me pulling me against his chest. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

I need this man biblically 

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 3

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Stabbing, Azriel unalives somebody that really had it coming, Death by being put on fire

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

*If you keep glaring at Keir like that we are never getting anywhere,* Rhys said into his mind, some amusement bleeding into his voice. 

*I think he’s trying to waste your time on purpose,* Azriel responded with a scowl. 

 The shadows hadn’t picked up anything out of the usual…but that didn’t mean anything…even Keir could manage to hide something if he really wanted to…and he did want to, Azriel thought. 

He wasn’t sure yet what…but there was something. There must be something. 

This meeting was utterly useless, was slowly turning into needless sniping at each other and Azriel didn’t like it…it felt like Keir was just trying to keep them in place for longer. 

The question was just for what? 

It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up like a cat…the feeling that something…something was…not quite right, that he couldn't put his finger on…

He hated that feeling. Azriel much preferred it, when he got all the facts… when he could make plans and plans for his plans…

But he couldn’t…and he was still stuck with being in the Hewn City and not in Velaris.

*Cassian is thinking the same,* Rhys responded with a sigh. *We’ll give it another hour. Don’t worry, we'll be back in Velaris soon enough,* he teased Azriel lightly. Rhys must have caught one of his thoughts. *Give Feyre some time and then you can go get your girl.*

An easy promise given. 

*Not my girl,* Azriel gave back immediately. *Not yet. Not…* Not until she wanted to be. Not until she knew the truth and…

*She won’t turn you down, Az,* Rhys said quietly, sussing out what was really bothering him immediately. 

But what if she did? Eira had every reason in the book to turn him down. Starting with his ill-thought-out pursuit of her actual twin sister to the simple fact of who he was…

She had every reason to tell him to fuck off to the continent because she never wanted to see him again. Granted, he highly doubted she would do that…he had never heard as much as a curse word out of her mouth. 

She had been raised as the daughter of a wealthy merchant, and clearly, that’s how she carried herself, even after everything had happened. 

At least she had clung to that bit of her human life.

*She has every reason to,* Azriel disagreed quietly.  Every reason to turn him down. Regardless of what he wished for…every reason not to be interested. 

What if she wanted to cling to even more of her human life? If the wings that he sprouted from his back were a step too far for her…if the scars that marred his hands were…

Or what if she simply didn’t want him? That would be a valid choice too and he would accept that. 

Of course, he would. 

He never wanted to force her into anything that she didn’t want. 

So what if she hated him? 

*She won't and she doesn't,* Rhys disagreed sharply. *Azriel, Mor was right,” his brother told him pointedly. “Eira has been having a crush on you for years. She’ll probably be ecstatic and immediately start planning your wedding…Maybe Elain can lend her all her wedding binders,” Rhys teased him. 

He bit back a smile at that. Maybe…maybe… He wished for that. He wished that would be…

Whatever she wanted. She wanted a big wedding? He would suffer through that, just for the chance of seeing her happy. Just for her smiling at him…not as painfully polite as she had been last evening but bright and happy and unbridled…He wanted to see that. 

He wanted to see all of that. 

But he pushed that thought away.  

*I am intrigued and terrified by what is actually in these binders,* Azriel admitted drily. *Even you didn’t have that many when you were planning Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony.*

*Helion is overcompensating,* Rhys quipped, though they both knew that it probably was the truth. 

After everything had gone down in Autumn, ending with a dead Beron, High Lord Eris and Lucien Vanserra officially becoming Lucien Spell-Cleaver…well.

*I owe you an apology,* Rhys said at that moment, and Azriel stared at his brother, who was listening to Keir with a bored expression on his face. *I did only want…the best for you that solstice but how I went around it…that wasn’t particularly nice to you.*

*Actually I owe you my gratitude,* Azriel said drily. *I didn’t want to hear it then…but I was…I wasn’t in love with Elain. I was…infatuated,* he admitted. *I was jealous of you and Cassian and that…that clouded my judgement. It could have ended very badly if you didn’t intervene.*

Very badly. A Blood Duel would have been their smallest problem then. 

*It could have,* Rhys agreed. *That’s why I interfered in the first place…But I still hurt you in that moment, and I wish I hadn’t.*

*If I keep behaving like an idiot you have my full permission to call me out on it,* Azriel gave back with a sigh. 

*Then stop thinking like you don’t deserve her,* Rhys said with a mental eye roll. 

*Sure, I’ll stop once you stop thinking the same about Feyre,* he shot back. Rhys would have retorted, but he was beaten to it. 

The shadows came suddenly, in a frenzy whispering in his ear, voices hurried and panicking: Master, Master you need to come NOW!

*What’s wrong?* Rhys demanded, just as that dormant bond in his chest was flooded with pure, undiluted terror.  

The Princeling and our Mate! 

*Eira and Nyx,* he choked out. The shadows already grasped him, before Rhys’ mental order could fully reach him.  

*GO!*

They dragged him out of Hewn City, into Velaris.

The ground he hit was scorched. 

That was the first thing he realised. 

Magic crackled in the air, thick and furious, untrained and uncontrolled…that was the second. 

Nyx had one specific playground he loved…one where Azriel knew members of their family often brought him to…with swings that he adored…

It was a place of happiness…of children laughing…of Velaris at its best…

Now…now it was a scorched wasteland. 

The swings? Gone. The smell of burning human flesh in the air, making his stomach twist, eyes tracking over the carnage. 

At least two dead…difficult to say because their bodies were burned…beyond recognition.

One more dead…mouth open in a silent scream…  One…one male held by his shadows, bearing him down onto the ground…and then, right in the middle of that carnage… in a heap on the ground…

The high-pitched crying of Nyx reached his ears, covered by the unmoving body of Eira. 

Azriel had thought that panic had been burned out of him centuries ago. He was taught something better that morning. Because it was panic that flooded his veins. Panic and Terror and…a thousand other things. 

*I need Mor! And Madja!* he snapped along the mental connection to Rhys, already hurling for both of them…sliding onto his knees as he so very carefully touched Eira’s body, feeling the delicate bones underneath his fingertips, a near unseen tremble, the smell of acrid blood clinging to her, layering over her scent. 

She had always smelled like snowdrops to him. Snowdrops and almonds and a crackling hearth. 

Now the blood…the blood…He turned her around, getting no reaction, finding Nyx safe and sound tucked underneath her, crying, his little face red and splotchy as he sobbed. 

*AZRIEL!?* Rhys demanded. 

*Nyx is fine. Not a scratch.* 

All he managed…as he finally saw the scarlet red dripping down onto Nyx…smeared all over him…and then he saw the handle of that dagger protruding from Eira’s limp form. 

Blood. Her blood. 

“Ra! Ra! Ra!” Nyx gargled, just as he finally managed to slap a patch of his killing power around that knife, keeping it steady. He didn’t pull it out, knowing that that could kill her…even when the blood that oozed out around it was starkly black in places…and he could smell the scent of…something burning in the back of his throat. 

Poison. That knife had been poisoned. 

A curse left his mouth at that. 

That wasn't good. That was everything but good. 

*Eira?* Rhys demanded at that moment. 

*Stabbed.*

The connection went silent, just as the booming sound of Morrigan winnowing went in beside him. 

“Az?”

“She needs Madja. Now,” he bit out. “Take them both.”

Safe. Safe. 

He needed her safe. And then he needed…

He leaned down, picking up one limp hand and pressing a kiss against it, her skin clammy and grey…even when he could feel her pulse thrumming underneath the thin skin on the back of her wrist... He breathed in snowdrops and almonds and sweetness...and then let go, because if he didn't...he never would. He would lie right down next to her, waiting for his demise. 

He grasped Truthteller without even thinking about it, as he stalked across the ground towards the one sole survivor. The shadows jerked him up, and Azriel grabbed hold of his throat. 

“What. Did. You. Do?!” he growled. What had they done to Eira?  To his mate?

“I…we…just the Prince…Grab the Prince. No matter the cost,” the male garbled out, the acrid smell of urine hitting his nostrils and only now Azriel took in the black uniform. 

Darkbringer. 

Court of Nightmares. Keir. 

Suddenly… it all made sense. It came together. The secret Keir had been keeping. It was so clear now. 

“Who hired you?!” Azriel spat out, wanting a verbal answer before…before... 

“The Steward!” 

And that’s all he needed to hear, before he drove Truthteller into him, into the exact same place where they had stabbed Eira…not immediately killing him, but seeing his eyes widen, seeing the realisation set in….the pained scream escaping him. 

“She’s mine,” Azriel whispered. “Mine. And you hurt her. You hunted her.” Like a game. Like an animal. 

She was his. His mate. 

And Azriel hadn’t been there to protect her.  He hadn’t been there for any of this…

“Lightning,” the male choked, blood bubbling on his lips. *She…killed…lightning.”

He didn't care what the male told him. It didn't matter. None of this mattered. 

The only thing that mattered was her. 

He watched as the light dimmed in his eyes, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction that he at least had gotten to do this. At least…

*It was Keir,* Rhys said into his mind, his voice deathly quiet.  *He…He ordered…*

*He wanted Nyx,*  Azriel agreed, pulling Truthteller out of the body, letting the male fall to the ground, wiping the blade on his trousers. 

*How many did you kill?* Rhys asked. No judgment. He could have slaughtered three dozen and Rhys wouldn’t have cared at that moment. 

*One.*

He could feel Rhys’ surprise. Then: *He said he sent 4.*

*Two were burned beyond recognition,* Azriel explained. *Another is dead, but still recognisable. I do not know how he died. The whole ground is charred. Scorched.*

A second later…Rhys and Cassian appeared, winnowing in from Hewn City. He imagined that Feyre had gone straight to their son.  Cassian took one look around at the ground, the carnage…the…

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Mor took Nyx and Eira?” he asked and Azriel forced a nod, feeling for that golden thread bound around his rib…wished he would get something, anything from her…

“She shielded him with her body,” he said nearly tonelessly. “He was smeared in her blood because she shielded him.”

Even stabbed, even feeling like she was going to die…Eira had done everything to shield her nephew. Had used her own body to keep him safe. Had protected him with her life. 

Azriel had never doubted that she loved him…but it still…she must not have even hesitated. Just done it.

She was a slip of a girl, with no combat training…and she had faced four of the Court of Nightmare's most elite soldiers and laid down her life if that meant that Nyx would be safe. 

He had seen grown Illyrian Warriors that would have tucked tails and run in this situation. 

Outnumbered…Outpowered. And still, she had stood her ground. 

“What happened here?” Cassian asked as he checked the other recognisable body. 

“They must have surprised her,” Rhys said, his voice shaking. “She thought they were safe. We thought they were safe…”

And they hadn’t been. They hadn’t been safe. 

At all. 

Death had been brought right to their doorstep in Velaris. 

“How did he die?” Rhys demanded from Cassian. 

“He was struck by lightning,” Cassian responded drily. “I have seen this before…on a cow though. It would also explain the scorched ground. If lightning hits the ground, it makes a pattern like that.”

What?

Lightning?

He looked up to the sky. It was a beautiful summer’s day. Not a trace of a storm…anywhere. 

“Do you think it was Nyx?” Cassian asked quietly but Rhys shook his head. 

“I have never seen anybody channel lightning,” Rhys answered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Never. I…” Neither had Azriel.  “He’s too young to channel magic like that.”

But was he? In a situation like that? When he had just tried to protect Eira? and himself? Maybe even at 1-year-old Nyx had recognised what…what would happen if he didn’t protect himself. Maybe it had been pure instinct on his part…Maybe he had seen Eira fall and that had been…

Eira. 

He reached for that bond again, feeling it tremble and he hung onto it with all his might, clenching his teeth. 

He…

He had failed her, hadn’t he? It should have never come that far. It should have never…It should have never…

Azriel should have been the one taking that knife to the chest, not her. 

“Clearly not,” Cassian disagreed with a snort. “He’s your son,” Cassian pointed out drily. “He’s Feyre’s son…who knows what he has inherited from her.”

Rhys stayed rooted in one spot, blinking once. 

“Rhys?” Cassian asked immediately. 

“Get Nesta,” he ordered Cassian. “We are needed at the River House.” And then after a second that felt like eternity…“It’s not…It’s not looking good.”

And with one sentence…everything crumbled. 

[yourstru1y4ever]

Day 15 - "Are you jealous?"

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x F!Reader Word Count: 2.5k (WHOO) Content: Fluff, fighting a curse (no one gets severely injured :D), Gojo's past, Reader is Kaori's younger sister, somewhat canon compliant Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: Another taste of my upcoming series that I’m hoping to put out once I finish Tuna-Tober! I do some liberties from canon since we don’t know that much about Kaori before. . . y’know. . . Let me know if you want to be tagged in the series if you enjoyed this little preview! And as always be sure to like, reblog and comment if you'd want to see more! - Yours Truly

June 7, 2007

Apparently after the stunt you pulled during the Exchange Event a few weeks ago your sister’s clan reached out to her, accepting you both into the clan. You had to go back home to Sendai and deal with negotiations with her. They would never accept that Kaori married a human, not even capable of jujutsu, nor their son.

You talked to Yaga a few days ago and he agreed to let either Gojo or Geto take your missions for you while you were gone. As you step back into your house you remember the words Yaga mentioned.

A cursed object went missing in Sendai not long ago. We’re sending some sorcerers there but given you’re up for promotion, keep an eye out. 

“Auntie!!” Your nephew runs up to you as soon as you walk through the front door.

“Yuji!!” You match his excitement, kneeling down to pick him up. Once he’s in the air he’s giggling holding onto you.

“Goodness you’re getting so big now, I can barely. . .” You slowly drop to your knees dramatically, “Lift you up anymore. . .” You set him on the ground and collapse on the floor. Yuji keeps giggling at you and tries to turn you to your side.

“Come on, Auntie!” You keep your eyes closed, but you stick out your tongue like you’re dead. “I know you’re okay. Get up!!” He laughs and you can’t help but to smile along with him. You suddenly grab him, pulling him into a hug and you're both laughing.

You hear someone clear their throat and you look up to see Wasake, Kaori, and Jin looking down at the two of you. Yuji squirms out of your hold and runs up to his dad, his smile never waning.

“She’s home! She’s home!” Yuji tells him as you start to stand up.

“Welcome home.” Your sister says, her smile not reaching her eyes.

“Thank you,” You try to give her a reassuring smile back but she turns to Wasuke before she could notice.

“My sister and I have business to take care of tonight. Don’t worry about saving dinner for us, we won’t be home until late.” 

Wasuke gives her a tense look but nods his head.

“I understand. Jin, can you take her suitcase up to her room?”

“Of course,” Jin walks over and picks up your suitcase while holding Yuji in his other arm. “It’s nice to have you home.” He whispers to you.

“It’s nice to be back.” You reply.

Kaori crosses between you two and opens the front door, “Let’s go, it’s rude to keep our guests waiting.”

You straighten up and look towards Jin. He shrugs while Yuji gives you and Kaori a huge wave, “Bye Mommy! Bye Auntie!!”

“Goodbye sweetheart,”

“See ya kiddo!” You give him an enthusiastic wave back as you leave. Once the door closes the air suddenly feels tense. Kaori walks a few paces in front of you as you make sure you have everything on you.

You were meeting the clan head and a few members of their board to go over the negotiations so you were both dressed modestly, but nice. You were wearing a dress that Gojo had bought for you for your two month anniversary and heels that matched. The meeting place wasn’t far from your home so walking there wasn’t a pain.

Kaori stops in front of a house that’s behind a set of gates, and as soon as you're by her side she rings the buzzer. The gate doors swing open and you both walk side by side up to the front door. You bow your heads and when you bring your head up you see the clan head looking down at you both with a curiosity you haven’t seen before.

You keep your face straight as you make eye contact with him.

“So she’s the one with the inherited technique?” A voice asks from behind him, “My future wife?”

Your eyes widen and you look behind the Elder. A boy, possibly a year younger than you, gives you and Kaori a disgusted look as he crosses his arms behind him. He looks weak and pathetic, his hair slightly greasy and he looks like he hasn’t bathed himself in days.

“The girl with that ugly scar on her head?”

“No child, the younger one.” The clan head’s voice was rough and showed his age. 

“Your father might have had one too many whores, but at least this child was able to inherit our technique.” He gestures vaguely at you and your hand tightens into a fist. You try to center your breath so you don’t immediately fight these stupid-

“The eldest and I will have a conversation inside; Masamune,” The clan head points to the boy, “She’s your future wife, keep her safe.” The boy rolls his eyes and sighs walking down the steps and meets you face to face.

Kaori walks past the boy and sticks her tongue out behind his back, only for you to see.

You bring a hand up to cover your laugh, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. “What are you laughing at, wife?”

You grimace, “I’m not your wife, and I remembered something a friend of mine told me about clan meetings.” You can feel your phone buzzing in your pocket but you choose to ignore it.

“Oh and what was that?”

“To always skip them.”

Masamune scoffs, “Must be some fourth grade if she skips meetings.”

You hold back another laugh, “I wouldn't consider him a fourth grade sorcerer.”

“Him!?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “No, you’re not allowed to have any male friends if we’re going to be married.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re not getting married.” You state simply, trying not to let your phone ringing for the umpteenth time annoy you.

Before Masamune can reply a loud ringtone plays out from your pocket, willing itself to be heard.

“I’m sorry I have to take this.” You give him a fake smile and look down at your phone to see Nanami’s phone number lighting up the front. You flip it open, turning away from Masamune.

“This better be good.” You mutter into the phone.

“You’re in Sendai right?!” You overhear a loud crash over the speaker and someone yelling to Nanami.

“Yeah, why?”

You can barely hear Haibara ask, “Did she answer?” 

“We’re fighting a special grade curse- need your help. Gojo is on his way but you’ll get to us faster.”

“I- I can’t I. . . “ You look over at Masamune who’s giving you a frustrated look.

“Never mind, I can. Send me a pic of your location and I’ll be there soon.” You hear a loud crashing sound a few blocks away from you.

“Wait, are you nearing a forest?”

“Yes!”

Oh God. Instinct kicks in as you shut your phone closed.

“Hello?” Masamune calls out and you give him a look. 

“Can’t explain, special grade curse-” You turn and run out the gate running towards the street.

You’re standing in the middle of the road, eyes searching for the curse’s presence. At first, you're unable to feel anything but you suddenly hear a loud roar coming from a block away.

You look up to see a curse as big as a whale barreling down the street, jaws wide open to eat you. You can see Nanami and Haibara trailing not far behind it, calling out for you to move.

Your head tilts down slightly as you allow yourself to pool your cursed energy into your hands. You bring your hands in front of you. You can feel the pulse of the curse and something inside it.

“Cursed blood technique: convergence!” You yell out as purple liquid trails out of the curse and in front of you. Its blood wraps around your hands as you clasp them together, letting the blood form a laser focus. The curse splits in two right as it reaches you, its body falling to either side of you.

Once it’s completely down, you stumble forward, dropping your focus. 

“What the hell?!” You glance over at Masamune who is hiding behind the gate.

“Guys?” You yell out to Nanami and Haibara who are still running at you at full speed.

“It’s not-!” Nanami starts but it’s already too late. The curse is somehow reforming itself. . . you didn’t exorcize it yet.

“Shit.”

You run out of its way and it fully reforms itself, giving the three of you a murderous look.

“What kind of curse-?” You start.

“It’s like a hydra.” Haibara finishes. Nanami brings up his blade in front of you all.

“We need Satoru.”

“No shit,” Nanami mutters. The curse roars again and you all get ready for the fight.

“It’s a good thing I’m here then~”

Nanami looks behind him and gives Gojo an incredulous look. 

“Now’s not the time,” You tell Nanami. The curse throws its head back, a disgusting hacking sound coming out of its mouth, “All of you, I’m going to line up the shot; Nanami, you need to cut its head off;  Haibara, help me line it up, and Satoru?”

“Yeah Pretty?”

“Don’t destroy this street, my nephew lives down the road.” He gives you a smile before kissing you, “You got it, sweetheart.”

You hear Nanami gagging but there wasn’t any time to deal with the aftermath of your classmates learning that you and Gojo were officially dating. That can come once you all finish off the curse.

You and Haibara run in opposite directions, both trying to get the curse’s attention. Nanami and Gojo disappear from your vision but you soon hear a familiar whistle that you and Nanami came up with.

Once you’re far enough away from the curse, you turn to face it. Centering your focus on its body. You feel your cursed energy seeping out of you as you bring your hands in front of you once more, this time your right arm extending farther than your left. You focus on its heartbeat, the blood it has that keeps itself alive.

You’ve never controlled this level of curse before, but you had no time to worry if doing this would hurt you.

You tense your right hand and mutter, “Cursed blood manipulation: Marionette.”

The curse stills and its body contorts as you gain control of it. You only had a limited amount of time before you would lose consciousness. You turn your right hand slowly towards you and the curse turns on its left shoulder. You can feel it trying to fight against your technique but you hold out. Your right arm straightens out as your left hand goes in the opposite direction.

The curse’s head is a meter away from yours as its body lays flat against the street, your hands start wavering as it starts thrashing against your hold on it.

“Any day now!!” You yell out and suddenly Nanami slices through its neck, splitting it perfectly.

Before it has the chance to reattach its head, Gojo quickly walks through the path between the curse’s head and body, taking his hands across the wound, and cauterizing it with a very limited version of his technique reversal.

You drop down to your knees as you fight to stay awake.

“Hey hey, come on now sweetheart.” Satoru quickly appears at your side, bringing an arm around your torso, and helping you stand up. “We got an audience.”

You try to get your eyes to focus as you look up to see your sister looking at you with mild amusement, the clan head giving you an unamused look and Masamune’s mouth hanging agape.

Haibara runs over towards Nanami helping him up and they both walk over towards you and Gojo. 

“Thank you for the help,” Nanami says to you, “I don’t know why they sent us on this mission.”

You give Nanami a smile, glancing back at the curse’s body as it starts to disappear. “I think I know why it was a higher grade than you expected.” You nod in the direction of the object that it left behind. . . one of Sukana’s fingers.

Haibara quickly picks it up before anyone else can, “We better take this back to Jujutsu High.” 

Nanami takes out his phone to call one of the assistant supervisors, “We’ll be on our way, we’ll see you soon.” He says to you and you wave goodbye to him. You bring your attention back to Kaori who is starting to walk back home.

“We’re not joining their fucking clan.” She calls out.

“You were going to join their clan?” Satoru looks down at you and you avoid his gaze. “They had offered a lot of protection for my sister and her family.” 

“At what cost? If anything you should just marry me and bam you’re a Gojo and no one will fuck with either of us.” You push away from him, a blush creeping onto your face.

“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it, Satoru.”

“Wait! No, she's marrying me!” Masamune stomps over to you two. You give him a confused look, “I’m not even joining your clan asshole, fuck off.” You tell him, but he doesn’t falter. He keeps looking at Gojo waiting for an explanation.

“Are you jealous? She’s dating me, the Satoru Gojo, and not you, you pathetic piece of shit.” Gojo’s eyes flicker down at him, his face disgusted. “I should kill you right where you stand.” 

“Enough,” You try to sound serious but your smile is on Satoru's shoulder. Masamune looks like he’s about to shit himself and you can’t help but laugh at him. 

“Please forgive my son’s behavior Gojo,” The clan head’s voice rings out, “He doesn’t know his place.”

“Clearly.” Satoru snarks, “Let’s get you home sweetheart.” 

Within a blink, you’re suddenly in front of your house with Satoru, your hands on his chest. You look up at him and he gives you a soft smile.

“I meant what I said by the way. We should get married.”

You roll your eyes at him and lightly tap his chest, “Okay Toru, whatever you say.” You say sarcastically. He lets go of you reluctantly and you go to open the front door. 

Kaori arrives a few moments before Gojo leaves. She sees him kiss you for a few moments before disappearing in front of you. 

You and Kaori make eye contact as a blush reappears on your face, “We were just-!” 

“It’s okay, I think it’s sweet.” She tells you as she pats your shoulder. 

You were in for a lecture from Yaga once you returned to Jujutsu High since none of you put down a veil around the curse. It was worth it though since you got multiple recommendations for First Grade along with Nanami and Haibara after fighting that curse. Things are starting to look up for you guys.

[iridecsense]

his brother’s keeper - m. 

 ⤷ summary: after yet again pining for his brother’s girl, newt finds himself stuck between his brother and the woman he is in love with...quite literally.

𓇬 word count: 8.0k 𓇬 pairing: theseus scamander | fem!reader | newt scamander 𓇬 genre: smut, porn with a little plot  𓇬 rating: 18+ 𓇬 warnings: profanity, depictions of spiked drinks 𓇬 kinks: voyeur, cuckholding, breeding, creampie, menage et toi, oral (fem recieving), anal mdom/femsub/msub 𓇬 author’s note: Something you can think of as a sequel to rumors, or a stand alone one shot. I will definitely not see the pearly gates after this, I am so sorry in advance! I may be a bit rusty so please be gentle and accept this late Christmas gift as a New Years surprise. Expect more from me soon. ;)

     It was usually in conditions like these, when the streets of London were slick with cool wet, and the biting cold spread mist from hot mouths filled the air, that made a time meant for cheer and love, one of desolate solitude for those less fortunate. Whatever the circumstances may be, it is in these times Newt Scamander often found himself alone. Though, if you were to ask him yourself he would deny the accusation and snarkily ask if one could ever be truly alone when surrounded by magnificent creatures. Despite the best efforts of his brother, who cared for him most earnestly, Newt hadn’t spent the holidays with him in years. 

      He had his reasons to be sure. Back when Theseus was engaged with his childhood friend Leta, there was no doubt an awkwardness. The younger Scamander brother was in love with the Lestrange girl. To see his brother have what he had longed for since he first met her put a strain on his heart. Newt was not bold in any sense of the word. Being forward with a woman never came easy to him. When he’d lost the chance to win Leta’s heart he swore that when he found himself enamored by another woman he would make it clear to her his affections.     In came Tina Goldstein, an American auror who he found himself entangled with on a trip overseas. He felt something for her—a kind of attraction that was different from the one he felt for Leta, but an attraction nonetheless. Tina was tall and beautiful and treated him with more respect than anyone ever had. But even that effort fell short. Tina had become more dedicated to her work and her sister. There was no room for him in her life at the moment. The two drifted apart succeeding the events of Grindelwald's rally in Paris. He returned to London, and she to her own affairs.     That had been nearly three years ago. Newt did well on his own, he felt. His creatures keep him busy enough. Getting through the day was easy. The nights were the hardest. At night there wasn't anything busying his mind from thinking of you.     Newt started to believe he was cursed to always fall in love with women he couldn't have. Whoever it was must have been especially cruel to make him fall for his brother’s girlfriends. That could be the only explanation. Otherwise,  he was just a sick, perverted man who desperately needed therapy. Little did he know two things can be true.    It wasn’t as though it were intentional. When it came to Leta, he had loved her first. Theseus just happened to get her. You, however, was something he did not expect. He was acquainted with you, only knowing and conversing with you when Leta was involved, considering you were her friend. It wasn't until she died that he got to know you better. During that time, Newt stayed with his brother and swore to stay by his side and help him and the ministry in capturing Grindelwald. Theseus grieved, and Newt was there to care for him, and so were you.     You would come by with food and insist on helping clean the apartment. The gesture was kind, especially when you were going through your own grief. Newt wondered if you used your kindness and instinct to help others as a way to distract yourself from the pain you truly felt. He was able to prove his theory right after many nights alone, drinking gin and fire whiskey, when he got to know you more intimately.     Theseus never knew, but in those first few months he spent grieving, Newt had grown rather fond of you. You were funny, kind, a great cook, and you listened to him, something no one else really did. The day he discovered your relationship with his brother he was disappointed, to say the least. Once again, Theseus had managed to take someone else he cared about. Newt often wondered how different things would have been if he had kissed you that night as you so desperately wanted him to. The same night when you had drank one too many gin and tonics and found the Scamander family album hidden in Theseus’s bookshelf. That night you somehow wound up on top of his lap, flipping through embarrassing baby pictures and evidence of his pubescent awkwardness. You were too drunk to notice how tense he was underneath you, or how with every shift of movement, or every laugh you chuckled, your ass pressed against his crotch.     When you came across a picture of Newt his mother had taken of him on the first day working at the Ministry when he was sixteen, you gushed over how ‘adorable’ he looked. Newt blushed. Then you said something he didn't expect.     “I see what Leta meant. You were always cute.”     Newt didn't know what to say. You positioned your head on his shoulder to look up at him. Newt was never good at eye contact, but he found it hard to tear his eyes away from yours.     “You have pretty eyes,” you slurred suddenly with a smile stretched across your lips. He could smell the alcohol on your breath your faces were so close.     “So do you,” he said, surprising himself with his own brazenness. It was true. You had two pretty (e/c) eyes like none he’d ever seen, even when they fluttered and stared blankly up at him in an intoxicated daze. But it was only with the help of the three glasses of gin he had earlier that helped him say it aloud.     Your smile grew wider. Your hand went to cup his left cheek. “I never understood Leta,” you mumbled. “How could anyone look past you?”     He’d wanted it so bad. To feel your lips against his would be his greatest reward after all he’d been through, after all his shortcomings. If he were a lesser man he would have taken advantage of your drunkenness. But you could barely sit up on your own, and he couldn’t tell how long it would be before you lost consciousness and fell asleep on the couch as you had done several times before.     “Kiss me, Newt,” you asked. “Please.” It was the first sentence you hadn't slurred since the gin entered your bloodstream. In a moment of weakness, his hand caressed your cheek. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip and he heard your breath hitch in your throat.     You were so beautiful and there you were, begging him to kiss you. Begging for something more by the way you pressed your body into him and looked desperately at his lips through half-lidded eyes. And maybe if he had four gin and tonics instead of three he would have given you what you wanted. But he was more sober than you and he respected you far too much to take advantage of you in your current state. What he had to do afterward took all his restraint.     The next day you greeted him in the kitchen with the same kind smile you always gave him as you prepared breakfast. The matter was never brought up again and Newt assumed you simply didn't remember. He saw no point in bringing it up himself. Before he knew it, it was too late. Theseus had set his eyes on you and wasted no time claiming you as his. Newt could not touch you, no matter how badly he wanted to.     And so, once again, Newt found himself in love with his brother’s girl. Constantly keeping her on his mind, constantly yearning for her, but always stepping back. He was still close to you, which only made it harder.     For the past year, he’s kept the secret of that night. But that wouldn't stop him from thinking of it, and all that could have been, just as he was doing now, lying in his bed with his hand wrapped around his cock. If only he could have you with him now and feel your skin on his, taste the salt of your sweat, and feel the heat of your body. He could only imagine. But even in his imagination he was the happiest man on earth. Theseus must have felt like God.     Unbeknownst to him, he would get a taste of that feeling the very next day. In the morning when he woke up, he found an owl waiting for him with a letter. It was an invitation, from you no less, to join you and Theseus for a Christmas dinner later that evening. In truth, Newt had been so busy tending to his creatures the past week he had forgotten how close Christmas was approaching, let alone that it was Christmas Day.     The thought of spending an evening with you was enticing. It was Theseus’s presence that made him second guess. He loved his brother, that was no question. He probably loved his brother more than anyone else in the world, which is why he could sit silently as he continuously watched him have everything he ever wanted with no protest. That didn't mean it was easy. It was hard to see you with him, even harder than when he had to endure Leta with him. At least then he had Tina as a distraction. Now there was only you and he could see no one else better than you.     Had it been Theseus who sent the letter he wouldn't have agreed to stop by. He might not have even replied. But since it was you, and only because it was you, he sent an owl confirming his arrival.     On the other side of things, you were ecstatic. It had been some time since you'd seen Newt and you considered him one of your closest friends. You knew Theseus would love having his little brother visit for Christmas and felt it would be the perfect present for him.     You had told Newt to come a couple of hours earlier than when you would be expecting Theseus. When you opened the door you greeted him with a bright, toothy smile and open arms. Newt hugged you back awkwardly and stepped inside.     “Everything is cooking in the oven now,” you said. “I’m just finishing up the pie for dessert. Come, have a drink in the kitchen.”     Newt followed behind you. You looked adorable in the tacky red and green Christmas sweater you wore over your long white dress. You made him a drink and started on your creme pie.     “It’s so good to see you, Newt,” you told him. “I was afraid you couldn’t make it. I know how busy your creatures keep you.”     “It’s good to see you too,” he replied. “Bunty insisted she stay and help while I am away. She claimed she had no other plans.”     You pouted your lips. “That’s awful!” You said. “You should have told me! I would have gladly invited Bunty over if I knew. No one should be alone on Christmas.”     Newt smiled softly. There you go again, always thinking of others. As the two of you sat in the kitchen you caught each other up on your lives. Things were going great for you, Newt discovered. You had recently gotten a promotion and received a medal for your efforts spying abroad for your department and gathering intel on Grindelwald and his acolytes.    Newt told you about his own travels abroad, searching for and rescuing creatures whenever he could while doing his own work for Dumbledore to support the cause. He told you stories of the places he’d been and the creatures he’d seen, even promising to let you visit his home to see them for yourself. “They’d love you,” he said.     Before he knew it, the two of you were sharing a glass of wine on the couch while the food kept warm. Then you shared another, and another, and another while you both waited for Theseus to return.     “He works later these days,” you tell Newt. “There’ve been days where he doesn't come home at all. Just stays up there, drooling over papers in his office. I worry about him sometimes.”     “That’s my brother,” he says. “Always working harder than anyone else. Always having something to prove. In some ways I’m jealous.”     You chuckled. “Jealous? How so?”     “He’s always so,” Newt paused, searching his brain for the right word. “Dedicated. Determined. He sets his mind on something and won't stop until he does it. He’s always been like that.”     You turned to face him next to you on the couch, sitting on your legs and propping your elbow on the back of the couch to lean your head against your hand. You peer at him quizzically. “But you’re like that too.”     Newt scoffed. “No I’m not,” he chuckled as he took a sip of his wine.     “Yes, you are!” You insist. “You’re very determined and dedicated to your animals. You have done things many others are too afraid to do; all to protect the things you love. Even Theseus admits you are much better suited to be an auror than he is.”     Newt raised a curious brow, a coy smile on his face. “Really?”     You nod. “He’s very amazed by you—admires you, even. As do I. You’re very brave, Newt. No one is more determined or dedicated than you.”     “There is one person,” Newt muttered.      “Who?” You asked, genuinely curious about his answer, prepared to playfully berate him for his humbleness.     “Theseus.”     “Well, he doesn't seem to think so,” you say.     “But he is,” Newt quipped, whipping his head to look you in the eye. The energy in the room shifted, and though both your brains were fuzzy from wine, you could tell the moment had gone from playful to serious.     “He is,” he continued. “He wanted to become head boy and he did. He strived to be the best auror at the ministry and he is. He wanted Leta and he got her, and when he wanted you, he got you.”     You were silent as you listened, unsure of where exactly Newt was going with his ramblings.     “I could never do that,” he admitted. “If I could, you would be with me now, not him.”     Now it was the wine talking. You were surprised. Newt’s face was red, but at this point, it wasn't clear if it was because he was embarrassed, frustrated, or tipsy.     “What do you mean, Newt?” You asked, your voice soft and sweet. His expression softened, and he looked at you in such a way your heart fluttered in your chest.     “You are so beautiful,” he proclaimed, making your face burn hotter than it already was. “I should have told you that a long time ago. If I were as forthright as Theseus I would have told you I loved you the night we almost kissed a year ago on this couch.”     Newt chuckled at your stunned expression, unable to say a word. “You don’t remember, but you were beautiful then too. You sat right here in my lap and you held my face in your hand and begged me to kiss you. I would have if you weren’t intoxicated. I wanted to talk to you about it the next day but you had already forgotten—”     “I didn't forget,” you spoke finally. Now it was Newt’s turn to be surprised.     “What?”     You put your wine glass down on the coffee table and scooted closer to Newt on the couch. Your knees touched his thigh, but neither of you moved.     “I didn't forget,” you repeat, clearer this time. “We were drinking while Theseus was asleep in his room one night. I had found your family album and we looked at it together when I asked you to kiss me.”     Newt frowned. “If you remember then why didn't you say anything?”     “I was embarrassed,” you reveal. “When you didn't kiss me I thought that I made a fool of myself. That you rejected me. When you didn't say anything afterwards I figured that was it. That you just wanted to forget and stay as friends.”     Newt couldn't believe his ears. All this time you had remembered that night and thought he held no feelings for you. He was spiraling in his head, you could tell by the way he distantly stared into his glass of wine.     “Newt?” You called out to him, taking his glass and replacing it with your hand.     “This is what I mean,” he said finally. “I wasn't determined. If I were like Theseus I would have talked to you regardless of whether or not I thought you remembered. I would have told you how wonderful it felt holding you in my arms and how desperately I wanted to press my lips against yours and taste you on my tongue. I would have told you how much I love you.”     Your stomach turned excitedly at Newt’s words. You squeezed his hand tightly. “Newt...”     He stopped, realizing what he just said. “I...I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I don’t know why I’m saying these things.”     “That would be the veritaserum in the wine,” said a deep voice behind him.     Newt turned around and found his brother, Theseus, standing under the archway to the foyer.     “Theseus,” He stammered and quickly stood to his feet.     “No need to get up, brother,” he said calmly. “It wasn’t as if I didn’t know.”     On the couch, you held up the wine bottle and inspected it. “How did veritaserum get into the wine?”     “I drugged it,” Theseus said simply as he walked past Newt and took a seat across from the couch in an armchair.     “Why the hell would you do that?” You asked Theseus angrily.     “Because this morning you said Newt accepted your invitation to dinner. Because I knew the real reason why Newt hasn't visited me in months is that he feels guilty for loving you knowing you’re with me,” he explained. “And I didn't want to have a Christmas dinner with a brother who resents me and sulks across the table pining for you. So, I put veritaserum in the wine I knew you wanted to drink tonight and left the two of you alone, hoping my baby brother would finally confess his feelings. And he did! Now we all know.”     You shot up from your seat and glared at Theseus. “This is cruel Theseus. You had no right!”     “I will admit it was slightly unethical, but I don’t see the harm in it. Aren’t you glad that Newt confessed his feelings?”     “Yes,” you answered instantly, though, of course, not of your own free will.     Theseus then turned to Newt. “And don't you feel better having finally told her?”     “Yes,” Newt admitted.    Theseus smiled. “Good! Now everything’s better.”     “You aren't upset?” Asked Newt.     Theseus looked at him as though he were confused. “Why would I be upset?”     “You’re not upset that I’m in love with your girlfriend?”     Theseus pursed his lips in thought before shifting his eyes to the half-empty bottle of wine. Standing to his feet, he walked towards the coffee table and grabbed the bottle by the neck. He took a swing of the truth-spiked wine and put it back down.     “Why don’t you ask me again.” He said.     “You’re not upset that I love y/n?” Newt once again asked.     Theseus smiled almost tenderly at his brother. “No.”     The older brother walked back to his chair and sat down, leaving you and Newt stupefied. “I do, however, wonder how you feel, darling.” He said, now turning his attention to you.     You furrowed your brows. “Me?”     “Do you love Newt back?” Asked Theseus.     Newt’s eyes fell on you. Your mouth opened and took a breath in preparation of your answer, but it closed as soon as it happened. Your glare on Theseus sharpened.     “What are you playing at, Theseus?”     “Don’t try fighting it,” he said. “You won't be able to lie so just answer. Do you love him?”     Your eyes flickered over and connected with Newt’s, who was looking at you expectingly. Your eyes softened and the tenseness in your shoulders fell away.     “Yes,” you whispered.     Newt couldn't believe his ears. Everything happening at this moment felt surreal. Just a few minutes ago he thought he had embarrassed himself once again, having confessed his feelings to his brother’s girlfriend right in front of him. He was prepared to be punched and thrown out and for his brother to hate him for the rest of his life. But instead of being angry, Theseus was encouraging him. He encouraged you and finally, he got to hear you say words he’d only dreamt of you saying. You loved him. Oddly enough, despite how it came about, Newt couldn't be happier.     “Kiss her.”     Newt was pulled from his thoughts and his shared gaze with you. You both turned and looked at Theseus who sat cooly in the armchair.     “Didn’t you hear what she said?” He asked. “She loves you! Stop standing there like an idiot and kiss her!”     “Theseus—” you began to speak, but Theseus stopped you.     “It’s okay, love,” he assured you with his gentlest voice. “Let him kiss you.”     The energy in the room for the second time that night, all because of Theseus, who ironically was the calmest person in the room. But there was something about the aura permeating from him that domineered over everyone else. His gaze burned into them as he stared, waiting for Newt to do as he commanded.     Every part of him wanted to turn around and walk out the front door and never speak of this again. He would go home and lay in his bed and do his best to fall asleep and forget everything that happened here tonight. Every part except the one that wanted to turn to his side, take you in his arms, and kiss you the way he should have that night. It was that part of him that won over all his better judgments.    In an instant, Newt’s lips were on yours. He held your face in his hands and pressed his body flat against yours. You were taken aback. You’d even yelped when his lips first touched yours. It was a while before your body finally relaxed and you closed your eyes, leaning into the kiss. Your lips began to move with his and he felt your hands lightly grip the sides of his waist, still unsure.     Theseus leaned back in his chair and said nothing as he watched. Newt’s tongue darted from between his lips and licked a stripe over your own. Your mouth opened for him willingly and he wasted no time exploring your mouth. He moaned at the taste of you. The feeling of your tongue swirling around his made his cock twitch in his pants. You could feel it against your thigh and your breath hitched in your throat.     “Don’t stop,” ordered Theseus with his hand over his pants, palming at the growing hardness straining against the fabric.    Newt kept his mouth on yours, only moving his grip around your face down to your hips. Your hands fisted the fabric of his shirt and you pressed your body into him, yearning to be closer. Newt stumbled back until the backs of his legs hit the couch and he broke away from the kiss to sit down. He spread his legs outwards and pulled you down onto his lap. You straddled his waist and his hips bucked upwards, longing to connect. A soft moan fell from your lips and he swore hadn't heard a more beautiful sound. Soon lips were back on yours.     “Tell her how pretty she is, Newt,” Theseus instructed.     Newt pulled from your feverish kiss and pushed your hair from around your face. “You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he said. You looked down at him through half-lidded eyes dilated with lust. Your lips twitched into a smile as you began salaciously grinding your hips against him, feeling the bulge of his dick against your slick heat. Newt hissed and watched you from below, moving his hips along with you, admiring your form hovering above him as you pulled your sweater over your head and threw it on the floor.     “Show him just how beautiful you are, sweetheart,” Theseus commanded. His voice was low and husky. He watched the two of you closely, palming his own arousal.     It was of no concern to the two of you, however. Newt was so encompassed by you he could barely pay any mind to his brother watching across the room. Of course, there were thoughts screaming in the back of his head telling him how fucked this whole situation was, but they were nothing more than muted whispers compared to you rubbing against his cock.     Just as Theseus commanded you showed Newt how beautiful you were when you took a hand and pulled down one of the straps to your white dress and freed your arm, repeating the same to the other. Taking his hands from your waist you brought them to your chest and helped him pull your dress down around your waist, revealing your breasts.     You felt Newt’s cock jump at the sight of you. He could only stare slack-jawed as you placed his hands over your beasts and guided him in pressing them against each other in a continuous circular motion while you rubbed your clothed clit against him. Your soft pants filled his ears as his low grunts filled yours.     “Newt...” His name fell breathlessly from your lips.     He had pumped his cock to the thought of you moaning his name many times before, but it barely held a candle to what it felt like to hear the real thing. Your name fell from his lips just as easily and he once again captured your lips in a heated kiss while he massaged your breasts.     Across the room, Theseus had his hand wrapped around his cock, slowly sliding it up and down as he watched his girlfriend shamelessly hump his little brother. You were the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. The way your hips moved against Newt could rival even the best of strippers. Your pretty moans filled his ears and he couldn’t help but reminisce about the many times he'd made those same sounds come out of you. To hear it in person is a gift. To feel your lips was a blessing. To feel your tight cunt wrapped around his cock was the best thing a man could ever feel. There is no greater present than fucking you, and Newt didn’t even realize that Theseus had just given his brother the best Christmas gift a man could ask for.     “Tell her what you’re thinking, Newt,” Theseus breathed.     Newt licked his lips. He did his best to gather his thoughts which were wall focused on you.     “Go on,” you said through shaky breaths. “Tell me.”     Newt moaned and pressed a trail of kisses on your bare shoulder and neck. “I’m thinking about how amazing you are,” he grunted out. “I’m thinking about how long I’ve wanted you and how good it feels to finally have you.”      You loved hearing Newt praise you. You loved the feeling of his hands and lips on your hot skin.  “Keep going,” you urged, moving your hands up his chest to unbutton his shirt.     “I think you’re perfect. I think that Theseus doesn't realize how lucky he is to have you,” he said boldly, piquing both your and Theseus’s interest. “You should have been mine. I would take good care of you—f-fuck!”     You had reached the top of his pants and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoning his pants and pulling out his hardened length. He wasn’t bigger than Theseus, but he certainly was thicker. Your hand slid up and down his shaft, only stopping to collect the precum leaking from his tip on your finger to put them in your mouth. He watched in awe as you licked and sucked your fingers clean.     “God, I want you,” he growled in your ear as your hand reached for his cock. “I want to be inside you. I want to feel you,” he said through labored breaths.     “Give him what he wants, love” Theseus spoke up. “Let him feel you.”      You sat up on your knees and hovered over his hips. Pulling your panties to the side with one hand you used the other to guide Newt’s member to your center. Both your breaths caught in your throats when he entered, stretching you open with his thick cock. Feeling you around him was unlike anything he could ever dream or hope. You were slick with arousal and he easily slid in and out of you, filling you up in all the right places. Your moans filled the room as Newt sucked on the supple skin of your neck. His hands and fingernails dug into your soft skin as he held you close and it felt as though the two of you were the only ones in the room.     Newt’s name sweetly slipped past your lips. Yours flittered through the air from his own. His hips rolled into yours with a precision you had no idea he was capable of. If he’d allowed it, the two of you would have lost yourselves in each other, forgetting the third presence in the room. But that wasn't going to happen.     Standing from his seat, Theses moved towards the couple and took a seat next to them on the couch, his hand still wrapped around his dick. “Does it feel good, my love?” He asked you.     “Yes,” you breathed.     “Does my little brother make you feel good? Do you love the way his cock stretches your tight little hole?”     You moaned at his dirty words, lulling your head back as Newt's lips wrapped around your nipple. “Y-yes,” you stammered, your hips rocking faster against Newts. “I love it. I love the way he feels inside me.”     “I know you do,” Theseus hummed, his breaths hastening. “You want him to make you cum don’t you, baby?”     You nodded excitedly and Theseus smirked.     “Newt, help her cum,” he said. “She likes it when you speak to her. It turns her on hearing all the dirty things you’re going to do to her.”     “Is that true?” Newt asked you once he pulled his lips from your pert nipples. “You want to hear all the things I want to do to you? Like how I’m gonna fuck your sweet cunt until you’re shaking a quivering under me? How...How I’m gonna fill you up so full with my cum you’ll end up with twins!”     He and Theseus laughed.     “See,” Theseus chuckled as he lifted the fabric of your skirt to reveal the sight of Newt’s cock pumping in and out of you. “She likes it! Look, she’s so wet your cock is soaked!”     Newt looked down and marveled at how wet you were. You took him so well and his cock disappeared inside you with ease. Newt held the skirts of your dress up so he could watch—so they could both watch.     Theseus’s hand rubbed the inside of your thigh. “Do you want me to touch you too, baby?” He asked politely.     You opened your eyes to look at your handsome boyfriend. He had long since undone his tie and unbuttoned his own shirt. His large cock was being tugged by his right hand and you nearly drooled at the sight of it, suddenly missing the feeling of having it shoved down your throat. You loved it when Theseus touched you. His hands were always precise, knowing exactly where to pinch, caress, and stroke. Like how he was rubbing your thigh right now, knowing how sensitive the skin on that area was for you. Your eyes connected and you ached seeing how dark his once baby-blue eyes had become.     “Yes,” you nodded.     Theseus wasted no time pressing his fingers on your aching clit. He rubbed your most sensitive part while his hand teased his own cock. Between his fingers and Newt’s dick plunging deep inside you, your body buzzed with pleasure. The air in the room grew hot and sticky and a symphony of soft moans, grunts, and pants melded with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the slick wetness of your dripping cunt. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening and your eyes shut, desperately chasing that feeling.     “Are you close, darling?” Newt asked once he felt you tighten around him.     “Y-yes!”     Theseus’s fingers rubbed faster to help you get there. “Watch her, Newt,” he urged. “When she comes, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ll ever see.”     Newts darkened hazel eyes trained on you. His grip around the dress wrapped around your waist tightened and her wrapped it around his arm and held your hips steady. His hips snapped upwards, changing pace. You bounced on his cock, your moans growing louder and louder.     “Cum for me, please,” Newt begged, now reaching his own release. “Let me see it. I want to see it. Show me, my love. Show me how beautiful you are when you cum. Please show me.”     He pressed open-mouthed kisses on your chest and neck, his eyes never leaving your face. Theseus’s breaths quickened as well, his pace on his cock matching the pace of your hips rising and sinking on Newt’s member. One of your hands wrapped around the base of Newt’s neck, taking a fist full of his hair. The other grabbed Theseus’s wrist and held his hand in place over your clit. A few more pumps and several flicks was all it took for your body to seize up, tightening around Newt's cock as your whole body trembled. Your moans caught in your throat, struggling to escape. The knot inside your stomach had broke and you came harder than you ever had in your life.     Newt came not long after you, sputtering your name as he did so and holding your hips down, burying his dick deeper inside you and making sure every drop of his cum spilled inside. “F-fuck,” he choked out.     Theseus had cum too, clear, white ribbons of his seed spilled into his hand and onto his abs. He wiped up what had spilled with two fingers and held it up to your lips. You were still dizzy from your orgasm, but it didn't stop you from obediently opening your mouth to suck Theseus’s cum from his fingers. Newt watched as you did this. Your skilled tongue licked and wrapped around Theseus’s long fingers promiscuously, ensuring you cleaned up every last drop.  It was enough to get him hard and twitching inside you again.     “That’s a good girl,” praised Theseus with a smile on his lips. “Isn’t she a good girl, Newt?”     “The best,” Newt agreed.     Theseus pulled his fingers from your mouth and replaced them with his tongue by reaching up and pulling you into a deep kiss. It was slow and purposeful, as if he were trying to show off in front of Newt who had no choice but to watch uncomfortably as your tongues swirled passionately in each other’s mouths, earning your soft whimpers. Inside, he hated how much it turned him on.     As you both pulled away, you captured Theseus’s bottom lip between your teeth and playfully tugged it away before letting go. Theseus’s hand quickly flew to tightly wrap around your neck, keeping your eyes trained on him. He smirked. “Look at you, darling. Still asking for more. Aren't you tired?”     Your hand reached down to grip his cock as an answer, making him laugh. His grip around your neck tightened.     “What? Was my brother’s cock not enough for you? You need to have mine as well? Or perhaps you want us both at the same time. Is that it? You need me and my brother to fuck you senseless like the greedy little cock whore you are?”     You clenched at the thought of having both Scamander brothers filling you up at once. Newt felt it and your increasing arousal started to drip down his balls.     “I think she does,” said Newt. “Will that satisfy you, my love? If Theseus and I fucked you within an inch of your life and pumped your selfish cunt full of cum? Tell us you want it.”     You’d never seen this side of Newt. You didn't even think he was capable of saying such filthy things. He was always so sweet and temperate, being shyer than demiguise. But here he was, spurring you on with his debaucherous words. It only made you want him more.     “I want it,” you say and salaciously grind your hips into Newt, making him hiss due to how sensitive he still was.     “Beg,” Theseus demanded. “Tell us how badly you want it.”     Your cheeks burned red hot from embarrassment. Theseus smirked mischievously because he loved watching you squirm. You always begged so nicely for him with your pouty lips and round doe eyes. His little princess. He only wanted Newt to see and appreciate it too.     “Please,” you begged shamelessly. “I want to feel you both inside me. I need to feel it. I want it so bad. I want to make you both feel good.”    “You want to make us feel good?” Theseus repeated. “Such a sweet little girl you are, wanting to please us. But we all know your secret.”     Theseus turned to Newt. “Should we give her what she wants?” He asked.     Newt looked up at your pleading eyes, so sweet and innocent despite them begging for him to fuck you. How could he ever deny you?     “Yes,” he said finally. With that, Theseus picked you up with ease and carried you upstairs to the bedroom. Newt followed behind and once Theseus placed you on the bed he began fully stripping himself of his clothes. Newt followed his brother’s actions, closing the door behind him and peeling off his shirt and pants. You watched them under the candlelight, admiring the two beautiful brothers and their different bodies.     You’d seen Theseus naked a hundred times before but it never ceased to excite you. He was large in every sense of the word. He was tall and had a wide, muscular chest with strong arms and thighs to match. Newt’s body was new and different. Newt was tall as well, only a couple inches shorter than his older brother. Surprisingly, Newt was more muscular and lean. His abs were more pronounced and taut in comparison. Both brothers were freckled, the younger of the two having more of them with accompanying scars. They were beautiful. Having two gorgeous men naked in front of you made you feel nervous and self-conscious. Without realizing it, you had pulled your dress up to cover your body. But Theseus was having none of that.     He crawled over to you on the bed, moving your hands and pulling your dress back down to your waist. Newt sat on the bed as well and pulled the dress down the rest of the way, discarding it on the floor. Theseus trailed kisses up your stomach, chest, neck, and face until he reached your lips. He kissed you passionately and tenderly, reaching for your right hand to intertwine his fingers with yours while Newt peppered soft kisses up your legs and thighs. Their attempt at relaxing you and distracting you from your thoughts worked, and you melded with them both.     “Theseus...” you whispered against his lips because you knew how much he liked hearing it. He shushed you, pecking the corners of your lips.     “Just relax, darling,” he muttered. His hand left yours to grab your thigh, spreading your legs apart.     Newt’s kisses lingered on your inner thigh, nipping, sucking, and biting the sensitive flesh. You trembled under their touch, not sure what to expect next. Theseus hovered over you on your right, covering you with kisses and massaging your breasts while Newt neared dangerously close to your core.     “Such a sweet girl,” Theseus said between kisses.     “I wonder if she tastes just as sweet,” said Newt.     “She does,” Theseus confirmed. “But you’ll just have to taste for yourself.”     The sudden feeling of Newt’s warm tongue licking a licentious stripe along your heat made you gasp. He kissed and sucked on your lower lips, occasionally darting his tongue in and out of your entrance. He licked up and down your dripping cunt before finally swirling his tongue around your clit. Your hips bucked and twitched as he drew figure-eights with his tongue over your sensitive bud. Theseus held your right leg while Newt held down your left, ensuring you kept your legs open for them.    “F-fuck, Newt,” you sighed and closed your eyes, resting your head back into the fluff of the pillow.     Theseus was sucking the skin at the crook of your neck, determined to leave a mark. His hand on your thigh trailed closer and closer to your center until his skilled fingers reached your entrance under Newt's chin. He easily slid his longest digit inside and curled it upwards, instantly finding that spot he knew so well. He pumped his finger in and out, making sure to brush against your g-spot. Soon he added another finger and quickened his pace. Between Newt’s assault on your clit and Theseus’s fingers deep inside you, you were ambushed by another orgasm. White flashed behind your eyes and your hips spasmed. Newt sucked on your clit and Theseus vigorously fingered your hole as you rode out your high until you became too sensitive to touch and begged them to stop.     “No, no, no, baby,” Theseus muttered in your ear. “We can’t stop now,” he said. “We haven't ‘fucked you within an inch of your life’ yet.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. They weren't done with you yet.     Newt came up from between your legs and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “Can you taste it?” he asked. “Your sweetness. I can’t get enough of it. I don’t think I ever will.”     Your lips chased his, wanting him to kiss you deeper. You were sandwiched between the two men, Theseus at your back, and Newt before you. You felt Theseus’s cock press flush against your ass while Newt's poked between your legs.     “Are you ready for us, darling?” Theseus asked as he nibbled at your ear.     “Yes,” you answered against Newt’s lips before he slid his tongue back down your throat.     Being as gentle as they could, the two brothers eased their cocks inside of you, introducing you to a whole new sensation. You had never been stretched out like this, with two cocks filling your holes at once. It was strange and slightly uncomfortable at first. They knew this, which is why they took their time, distracting you with their mouths and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, and ensuring you were okay.     “You’re doing so well,” they’d say.     “You feel so good.”     “You’re so wonderful, darling.”     “Are we hurting you, sweetheart?”     “Relax for us, my love.”     Theseus’s hand once again found your clit and he began lightly circling it with his fingers to give you some relief. It didn't take long for it to work and your body opened up for them with ease. They pushed deeper inside, inch by inch until they were fully sheathed in your flesh. They both whispered their own set of curses, letting out soft grunts and moans as they began slowly rocking their hips into you.     “Fuuuck,” Theseus moaned. “This ass is so fucking tight. You’re being so good for us, darling.”     “So, so good, love,” panted Newt. “You make us feel so good.”     Your high-pitched mewls and pretty sighs were like music to their ears. They completely engulfed you, body and soul. The world simply slipped away and nothing else mattered besides them, Theseus and Newt, making you feel better than you had ever felt before. You couldn't get enough of them, nor could they get enough of you. You were intoxicated by their scent, their bodies, and their moans. In your minds, you all tried to comprehend how lucky you all were to be in this moment. Nothing could be better than this. Nothing.     “This is it, isn't it?” Theseus panted in your ear. “Your secret. You’ve always wanted this. To have your holes stretched out by our cocks. Does it excite you, my darling, fucking two brothers? One just wasn't enough, was it? You had to have both. Well, now you have it. Now you’re taking our cocks like the good little girl you are, just like you wanted because we decided to give it to you. You should thank us. Go on and thank us, darling. Tell us how much you appreciate being filled up and fucked, blinded by your own pleasure.”     “T-th...Thank you,” you choked out, tears brimming your waterline. “Thank you so much! I wanted this. I always wanted this!”     “Good girl,” Newt praised, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Such a good, good, girl for us. We’re glad to give it to you...Whatever you want, y/n. Whatever you want—a-ah!”      Newt’s thrusts got faster and sloppier, as did Theseus’s. They both worked hard to bury themselves deep inside you. It came to a point where both their cocks were brushing against your g-spot, one after the other. You felt the knot in your core again, that delicious, evanescent knot tightening, ticking like a bomb about to explode and send you to your euphoric escape.     “Oh, God!” You gasped, digging your nails into the skin of Newt’s back and Theseus’s thighs. “Don’t stop! P-please...right there! S-Shit, I love you!” You proclaimed. “Both of you. God, I love both of you so much!”     This seemed to excite them even more, something you didn't know was possible. They thrust into you faster than they ever had before, their winded breaths filling your ears.     “I love you,” Newt breathed. “So...so much...More than anything.” He kissed your lips.     “I love you too, darling,” grunted Theseus. “My sweet girl...Always.” He kissed your lips too.     In that moment the three of you bonded, body and soul. You all came at once, their bodies falling flush against you, twitching in satisfaction. For a while you just lay there as they held you and listened to the sound of their breaths while you waited for the sweet, buzzing feeling to dim. When it did, Theseus got up to fetch a towel from the bathroom, leaving you and Newt cuddled up on the bed, whispering sweetly to one another. They helped clean you up and embraced you with their warmth. You just stared at them, sharing kisses, twirling hair, giggling, holding hands, and gazing lovingly into their eyes. There wasn't much to say. You all knew. You didn’t need to say it. You could feel it in the room. You were complete.     “Do you smell something burning?” Theseus asked suddenly. You and Newt sniffed the air and your eyes widened like saucers.    “THE FUCKING TURKEY!” You gasped, and struggled your way out from between your two lovers, picking one of their shirts from off the floor to cover yourself as you ran downstairs to save what was left of your forgotten Christmas dinner.     Newt and Theseus smiled to themselves and chuckled. There was an awkward silence as they lay there alone, both unsure of what to say or do next.     “I do know how lucky I am, by the way.” Theseus was the first to speak.     “I know,” said Newt.     Theseus turned to his brother. “You can be lucky too...If you want.”     Newt blinked, not fully believing he’d heard what he thought he heard.     “She loves you,” said Theseus.     “She loves you too,” Newt reminded him.     “I know. And we both love her.”     “And we both love her.”      It was as simple as that.     “Thank you, Theseus,” said Newt.     Theseus scoffed and playfully pushed Newt’s shoulder.     “Happy Christmas, Newt.”     “Happy Christmas, Theseus.”

[prythianpages]

Ohhhh would you ever write more about the witch reader x az. I loved it! I want to see feyres reaction :)

I might! I think I'd be open to making it like a series/au bc witch reader x Az makes me so soft 🥰 and I'm currently obsessed with the song that inspired it bc the song is so beautiful and whimsical and makes me wish I could experience a love like that

if you haven't read the original imagine, you can find it here.

here is a small drabble of feyre's reaction 😊 :

When you and Azriel return to the river house, Feyre is in the sitting room. She's lightly bouncing an agitated Nyx, who teethes at a cool wash cloth. "I know, baby," she coos at the infant.

Her blue-gray eyes are on you as soon as you enter and they light up when she notices Azriel's hands are ungloved and one of them is holding on to yours, fingers intertwined with another.

"How was the trip?" She asks, her lips curling up into a knowing smile.

"It was fine."

"She almost cursed Eris."

You're turning to Azriel with a playful glare and his wings twitch in response, his usual stoic demeanor now much lighter and Feyre knows it's all because of you. "It could've been a nice little hex that'd make his eyebrows fall off, you know. Just something to get him off his high horse."

Feyre laughs at the image that comes to mind. "I hope Eris didn't give you much trouble?"

"He shot an arrow through Azriel's hand."

"No."

You and Azriel exchange another look, missing the way Feyre's eyes grew distant for a brief moment.

**

They're holding hands! Feyre nearly screams into Rhysand's mind and he can feel all her excitement and joy through the bond.

He's sitting outside by one of the tables in their garden with Cassian and Mor on either side of him. If it were up to him, he'd be inside by his wife. But it was her who had kicked him outside, not wanting to overwhelm Azriel and you. "Out you busybodies!" She had exclaimed as she ushered them all out of the house.

"Hey, Cas," he grins. "You owe me twenty coins."

Cassian nearly spits out his lemonade. "What?" He sputters with wide eyes. Mor leans forward in her seat.

Rhysand then shows them the image Feyre had send him. It's of you and Azriel bickering and fussing over one another like an old married couple.

"Let's just call it even." Cassian insists, setting his cup down. "I am the one who got rid of all the dandelion root from her apothecary shop."

"Hey! Don't take all the credit. I am the one who kept her distracted!" Mor cuts in, dramatically throwing her hands in the air. "And also the one who kept Azriel from suspecting anything when Feyre had asked for an escort. Do you know how hard it is to sneak things around those two?"

"Thank you, Mor. Your hard work is much appreciated here," Rhysand says, his grin growing wider as he rises from his seat, knowing it'd only irritate Cassian further.

He catches the glare Cassian sends his way. "20 coins," Rhysand reminds him, holding his hand out expectantly.

"In a way," Cassian begins, not wanting to accept his loss. "I helped you win the bet!"

"That's not my problem." Rhysand replies with a smug shrug.

Cassian grumbles and digs into his pocket. He throws all twenty coins at Rhysand's face, who easily intercepts them with a wave of his hand. They fall gracefully into the palm of his hand instead.

Mor laughs as she also rises from her seat. Twenty coins is nothing to them. It's barely enough to buy a cheap bottle of wine.

Cassian follows shortly after, the three of them scurrying inside and wanting to catch a glimpse of you and Azriel holding hands in person. Although, they find you nestled on the couch with baby Nyx in your lap. You rub the elixir you had made earlier over Nyx's gums, smiling when you feel the babe relax in your arms, as you tell Feyre all about your venture earlier.

Azriel is seated on the armest of the couch right next to you, cutting into your story when he deems necessary. Everyone takes note of the way his hand is resting on the small of your back and one of his wings instinctively curls around your smaller form. They also take note of the lingering scent of your bond in the air, stronger now that you both have acknowledged the bond. Cedar and lavender.

**

a/n: I considered the whole Nyx being in pain to be a lie, a glamor made by Feyre to trick reader into having to go scavenge for dandelion root but decided it was better to just have Cassian and Mor be sneaky instead :)

[gyuswhore]

Dahlia

🎁 Em Birthday + Dino Mixtape Special 🎁

PAIRING: lee chan x reader

SYNOPSIS: When Chan brings you a bouquet filled with promises and hope to begin your birthday, you're happy to accept them with the love they come with. Chan, however, is quick to remind you that the flowers were only the beginning.

CONTAINS: fluff, smut (MINORS DNI) bikerboyfriend!chan, fem!bodied reader, soaked chan (literally), tiny bit of crying (happy tears!!), loads of acts of service, making out, handjobs, breast play, clit stimulation, fingering (f. rec), penetration, chan wont let reader breathe kjgfnekfjn, these two are so in love it gets sappy at the end lmk if theres anything else

WORD COUNT: 4.4K

masterlist

[AN]: if yall didnt think that insane meltdown i had on the tl a while ago wasnt gonna spawn into this, you would be crudely mistaken. ANYWAY in honour of em day falling on dixtape release day i present to you this thing i wrote out of the worst brainrot ive had in a very long time. have fun with channie lol

“Thank you!” Chan yells behind him to the flower shop owner as he walks out, the small tinkle of the door chime making itself known despite the near midnight time. Chan checks his watch as he approaches his motorcycle that stands on the empty sidewalk: 11:38 PM.

He might be able to make it, swinging his leg over the seat as he thanks his luck that he was able to catch the last florist before she closed for the day. The owner sends him a smile as she begins her own trek to her car, lights out. 

Revving his engine to life, he attempts to tuck the bouquet into his riding jacket, praying the delicate petals would hold up during the short ride to your place. His helmet is strapped on within seconds as he kicks up his stand to take off into the empty streets, making a beeline for your apartment. He stops at a red light, taking the chance to check his watch again: 11:47 PM. 

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, whipping his head around to check the ghostly empty streets of the intersection. He briefly wonders if he can afford a ticket when he sees the droplets fall on his gloved hands. 

“No. No, no, no, come on!” The light turned green as the rain began to thunder down onto his helmet, seeping through the collar of his jacket and trickling down his skin. He pushes away a shudder, trying not to shiver in the now even colder November night, wanting nothing more than to get to your place as quickly as possible. 

The rain grows nothing but stronger as he finds himself needing to wipe his shield every few seconds, his desperation increasing with the strong winds. By the time he’s kicking his stand and yanking his helmet off, the pour seems to have slowed itself to a drizzle, something he thinks he would’ve appreciated just a few minutes ago. In the few seconds it took him to kill the engine and inspect his flowers, the slow droplets infiltrated his hair, too. 

The flowers are soaked, Chan finds out soon enough as he inspects the droplets that have collected on the short petals of the red dahlias he’s picked out. He dumps the bouquet upside down to pour out the accumulated water onto the pavement, watching the amount of liquid that continues to spill out. 

So much for the flowers holding up. 

“I think you need some flowers for your water,” Chan flicks his sopping wet hair off his forehead to look up at the sound of your voice, eyes meeting your delighted face over your low window. 

He glances back down at the water-specked flowers, and hears a ghost of a chuckle escape him. Chan realizes in the moment how frazzled he looks, dripping wet with a thing of dejected flowers in his grip. 

You’re still smiling at the sight, “Come up before the hypothermia sets in, idiot.” 

He’s quick to oblige, bounding inside despite the droplets he leaves in his wake, checking his watch in a glance: 11:58 PM. You’re quick to open the door for him just as he reaches your place on the first floor, folds upon folds of bath towels in your arms. 

“You look like a wet dog,” you snort, laying down a towel for him to step inside on. 

“Wait!” he yells, and you freeze in your crouched spot. You’re slow to come back up, watching him stare intently at his watch. 

11:59 PM… 12:00 AM.

His face breaks out into a big smile, causing you to mimic his elated expression. He grabs your limp hand and thrusts the bouquet into your hands. 

“Happy birthday, babe.”

You can’t help but huff out a little laugh. The sight of dripping hair, sodden socks on a towel, his hand that pushes the flowers into your own, all complete with a stupidly accomplished look on his face. 

You push forward, flowers in hand, as you wrap your arms around his neck in a tight embrace. Pushing your chest into his, you leave no room between what your clothing would allow. It’s wet. Really wet. You can feel your shirt grow warm under the retention, but you pay no mind as you continue clinging to him with all you have. 

“Thank you, Chan.” He can hear the elation in your voice, and it’s enough to make it all worth it. He hugs you back, cautious at first, but relents when he realizes you don’t care about coming out of the hug as soaked as him. It isn’t until you feel the unnatural cold of the tip of his nose kiss your neck that you realize he’s probably freezing. So you pull away, albeit reluctantly. 

He keeps his hands on your hips as you continue, “Let’s get you dried up first.” 

Thus, a freshly washed and clothed Chan exits the bathroom, finding you in the kitchen huddled over the island. It isn’t until he’s engulfed you completely from behind, arms coming to pull you into his bare chest, that he sees what you’re doing. The crimson flowers had been tended to, placed into a pretty vase as you fiddle with the petals to spread them into a pleasing arrangement. 

“It’s freezing, Chan, put a shirt on!” you gasp as you turn around to realize your boyfriend is sporting nothing but trousers and a towel around his neck. 

“In a minute,” he mumbles as he drops his forehead to your shoulder. 

Running your fingers through his wet hair, you attempt to comb them out. “Why didn’t you stop when it started raining? You catch colds so easily.”

“I was running late, and the flower shop fucked my order. It was my fault. Spent ages trying to find one open that had these ones.” 

“You still could’ve stopped.”

“And miss being the first to say happy birthday? Fat chance.” 

You sigh as you give in to him. “Thank you. For testing your immune system for me.”

He snorts at the comment, coming back up to face you, forearms resting on the counter as he pushes your body against the edge. He glances at the flowers briefly.

“This wasn’t the end of it. We still have another twenty-four hours to go,” he murmurs. “The rest of the surprises will be less chaotic, I promise.” 

“It’s not you if there’s no chaos,” you comment with an undertone. “I’ll like anything you give me, no matter how chaotic or calmly you deliver it.”

He hums for a moment, and you sense the mischief coming from a mile away. The half-serious warning leaves you before you can help it, “Don’t make me eat my words.”

He barks out a laugh at that, coming in to capture your frown in a momentary kiss, giving you one peck after another. You stand in each other’s arms for a long while, barefoot in the kitchen, as you talk about your plans for when the sun eventually comes up. Most of which Chan refused to relay to you anyway, so you were really just making guesses. 

His drying hair doesn’t leave your fingers throughout, combing through the strands as you massage his scalp along the way. He melts under the touch, moving the towel around his shoulder way so you can rest your arms on him. He falters slightly at the feeling as he continues to talk. 

You can’t help but notice the wonders the kitchen light seems to be doing for him, the blue-ish glaze illuminating the highs of his face and hair, the glowing lines moving past his neck to his shoulders, and undoubtedly casting the rest of the ridges of his body aglow — you aren’t sure if you can handle finding out if you gaze any lower. The little you can see of his eyes past the flop of hair that covers them is sparkling in the low light. 

Chan doesn’t stop you as you slot your mouth against his, taking the way the light illuminated his lips as a sign. He’s equally as quick to reciprocate, moving his mouth against yours, almost more eager than you. His hands have left their place on the counter and move to grip your hips instead, pushing your lower half against him with a force that has you breaking away from his lips. 

He doesn’t stop, moving his mouth down to leave his own open-mouthed kisses on your jaw as you grip his bare bicep, a content sigh leaving your lips. 

“Have a really pretty thing waiting for you when you wake up,” he whispers delicately in your ear, placing a kiss on your earlobe. “The nice satin thing you’ve been eyeing for a while.” 

Your breath stops short in your chest, the thought of the pretty piece of lingerie you briefly mentioned you liked a while ago. 

“Chan,” you groan at the thought. 

He continues to mumble with a slight chuckle, “Don’t know if that’s a present for me or you.”

His hands have migrated everywhere at this point, moving up to squeeze of your breasts in his hold, his other hand continuing to run over your ass and hips. It’s your own hands that drift past his abs to toy with the drawstrings of his pants when you begin to fall impatient, needing to feel him. 

Feeling his hard-on through his underwear is easy, and you wonder how long he’s actually been horny with how defined you can already feel him to be. You watch as he grinds into your palm, groaning into your neck at the feeling. You continue your ministrations through his boxers till you feel him wrap his hand around your forearm to yank it out of his pants. 

“I’m not fucking you on the kitchen counter,” he says, pulling you out of the blue fluorescent lights and into the hall to your bedroom. 

It’s easier for him to discard your clothing with the space he’s given, yanking your shirt off to leave you in your barely-there sleeping shorts. Sparing no second, you watch him push off the soft plush of the mattress, moving away to get rid of his own clothing. 

Chan’s lips meet yours once again as he hovers over you on the bed, continuing to feel up your sides as he shoves his tongue into your mouth, massaging it over your own as he continues to push you up the bed. 

You arch your back, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, only to find him beating you to it as he unhooks it, flinging the padding somewhere amongst the flown clothes on the floor. The cold hits your chest in a way that has you gasping, his hands immediately cupping over both your breasts before attaching his mouth to a nipple. His other hand toys with your other nipple, rolling the perked bud between his fingers before running his thumb over it repeatedly. It’s so easy to zero in on the feeling of his tongue gliding over the sensitive area, the contrast of his warm mouth, and the air that hits the glistening surface of your skin. You can’t help but hum, hands grazing over his own that pinch and press into your other nipple. 

You realize soon enough that his knees are spread just wide enough for you to shove your own leg in between, bringing your knee up to grind it slowly against his crotch, feeling him through his underwear. The motion comes unprovoked, a vibrating groan escaping him as he cursed against your skin. 

“Fuck, babe, you’re so impatient.”

Removing his mouth from your chest, he pushes your knee down in haste to give himself room to pull down your shorts, pushing your thighs apart when he’s done as he kneels back. His gaze wanders across your near-bare body, his thumb rubbing circles into your hip as he locks you in place. His eyes hover but choose to remain on the visibly darkened patch on your panties. You feel his fingers move slowly, ghosting over the insides of your thighs, moving ever so close to where you screamed for him. 

Right as you’re about to say something out of growing frustration, he hooks his fingers under the waistband of the final obstruction, pulling them down your legs to expose yourself to him completely. His unprovoked compliance comes as a bit of a shock to you, but you assume he’s being nice for the sake of your birthday (not that you’re complaining – anything that gets him in your pants faster counts as an automatic win in your book) 

You can feel him massage the skin of your thighs as he stares, making sure you keep your legs wide open for him. His gaze doesn’t wander, you find, locked in as he bites his bottom lip at the sight. His eyes hold a dangerous lace, one that you wish he’d unleash. He all but pushes your thighs even further to get a better look at your undoubtedly sopping wet cunt. It took a lot for you to not attempt to bring your knees together despite the embarrassment – you know he liked to look. 

“Chan.” His name leaves your lips in a desperate attempt to get him to do something, anything. His lips all but lift into a curl of trouble.

“What is it, baby?” 

“Please,”

“Please, what? I know it’s your birthday, princess, but I won’t know what you want if you won’t tell me.” His eyes graze over your contorted expression, urging you to say it. “Say it, my love.”

“Chan,” you whine. “Touch me. Please.” 

His grin morphs into something downright diabolical as he taps your hips. “Get up, baby. On my lap.” 

Chan pushes his back on the headboard as he invites you on his lap, your hips over his thighs as the rest of your body lays on the sheets. 

It isn’t until then that he finally migrates his hand, placing his middle finger on your clit, spreading your lips apart with his pointer and ring finger. He grazes over it lightly as he moves down to your hole, feeling the pool of arousal that’s accumulated in the area. He gathers your arousal on his fingers, moving back up to pay attention to your clit. 

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” Chan’s voice comes out hoarse, and it somehow has you gushing even further. 

The angle gives him perfect access to work on your cunt as he likes, pushing your legs apart when you’d close them subconsciously. His fingers are merciless as they take turns circling over your nub before rubbing through them up and down. He places open mouthed kisses on your thigh, the one he holds open against his bare chest. 

You’re writhing at the feeling, trying your best to not move in his hold too much as you let out the most desperate streams of moans, only encouraging him to keep going. Your hands grope everything in your shaken state: your breasts, his thigh, his arm that holds your legs apart – anything to keep you tied to the feeling. 

Chan’s fingers slow before coming to a complete halt, wet fingers trailing up your thighs, leaving a trail of your arousal in their wake. He brings them back, fingers now lower as he traces a lone finger at your entrance. You feel yourself clench at the feeling. 

“Fuck!” You clamp your hand over your mouth, the profanity leaving your mouth before you can stop it. Chan pushes that finger into your tight hole, clenching around the digit. He pumps in once before pushing in another. 

“Uh-uh,” you hear him tut. Yanking your hand away from your mouth, leading it away. “Let me hear you.” 

His statement has you letting out another groan, the sound of his voice adding to the pleasure you’re receiving at the mercy of his fingers. He continues to pump in and out, his other hand moving to continue circling over your clit. 

Your back is arching off the sheets at this point, hands desperately gripping the sheets as you throw your head back. The feeling is building to a breaking point, your pants growing louder as your jaw falls slack. 

The knot breaks, and it has you fluttering your eyes shut, your mind going completely blank as the only thing that consumed your being becomes Chan’s godly hands. Registering absolutely nothing is easy when he refuses to stop his fingers, letting you ride out your high as far as it would take you. He doesn’t stop, even while you're squirming in his hold from overstimulation.

“Ch-Chan, I can’t!” Your own hands attempt to grasp his arm, his wrists. 

Your now blown out pupils catch a playful look on his face as he quit brushing his fingers on your spent cunt, letting you lay back for a breath. Your chest heaves as you attempt to come round from the feeling, vaguely registering Chan, setting your lower half off of his lap. He hovered above your frame, leaving pecks all over your face, neck, and chest, waiting for you to recover. 

“Good?” he asks you with a smile once your breathing seemed to have evened out. 

“Yeah,” you reply with a laugh, attempting to sit up from your position to kiss him. He lets you. 

It isn’t until you’ve pushed him back on the headboard that he realizes what you’re trying to do. You’re legs that straddle him begin to wiggle lower as you detach from his lips, fiddling with the waistband of his boxers to pull them off. He obliges, letting you take the fabric off, watching you as you pump his hard length in your palms. 

You doubt you’d ever get over the feeling of having him in your hands, the weight of him fitting into your palm like his dick was meant to fall straight into your hands. Chan is gracious in how he lets you have your way for a few minutes, using his precum as lube to begin pumping him faster and faster.

The feeling is overwhelming, considering how long his lower half has been waiting for this, for you. He reminds himself what he’s really here for and somehow finds it within himself to stop you, flipping you over on the mattress so he’s back to hovering over you. 

“Not today, baby.” 

“Chan, let me–” 

He knows the only way to get you to quit insisting is by occupying your mouth, so that’s exactly what he does as he places his mouth against yours, kneading both your tits under his hands to get you all worked up again. It works as you let out the smallest whine against his mouth, all of that fighting drowning in your chest as you melt into putty in his hands yet again. 

Chan continues to tease, bringing his tip to your entrance, circling it before dragging it up to your clit, spreading the mix of both of your arousal all over your cunt. Your hips buck and stutter at the feeling, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. 

It isn’t long before he’s dragging himself back, tip pushing in hard as he continues his pressure. You’re both moaning at this point, mixing in profanities as he begins to thrust into your cunt, setting a pace for himself. You wrap your arms around his neck as he holds himself in a hover above you. 

Soon enough, you feel him begin to brush against a particular spot inside you, one that has you moaning louder than you have all night. It’s almost like he knows what those sounds mean, angling his hips in a way that thrusts directly into that one spot that has you seeing stars.

“Chan, I’m—” 

“I know, princess, I know,” he grunts out in response. “Let go, baby.” 

And you do, hurtling into your second orgasm as you clutch the forearm he’s rested on the bed. Your back that arches off the sheets is met with his hand that runs over the expanse, coaxing the feeling out with the intimate touch. 

You feel him pull out, moving away from you to let you breathe. You want to have the energy to tell him to come close to you again, but it sires difficult when you can barely breathe. You find yourself not needing to open your mouth, though, as you realize Chan’s mercy lasted barely a few seconds before you feel him push into your entrance again with no warning. 

The gasp that leaves you is muffled by the mouth that���s put on yours as Chan fully engulfs you in his arms again. You take the opportunity to touch him, wrapping your arms around his torso, hands roaming as you feel up the expanse of his back and shoulders. He’s thrusting into you slower than before, his moans coming in directly into your ear now. The sound is enough to have you gushing around him again, your fingers finding his nape to tangle them in his hair.

“Fuck — you’re not keeping me in,” he groans, and you suddenly realize why he was going so slow. 

It wasn’t like you could help it when you continued to clench around him like your life depended on it, but he didn’t seem to really mind it either when you felt his own cock twitch. Once he’s had quite enough, he pulls back momentarily to push your legs up against your body. Your thighs are pressing against your chest as you register that he’s basically folded you in half, giving him the room he so desired to properly fuck you. 

“Keep those legs up for me, baby,” he orders as he helps, letting you rest them against his shoulders.

He slips himself out before going back in entirely, moving his hips at a pace that has you seeing stars. You feel him move his head to kiss the inside of your thighs, dragging his tongue over every surface he can reach. With his mouth occupied, the only sounds that encase the room are your own string of moans, paired with the absolutely lewd squelch that comes with every slap of Chan’s hips. 

With the force he’s going at, you don’t doubt the bruises that’ll grace your lower half once he’s done. The fact that this wasn’t gonna be the end of it has you wondering how you’ll handle the next 24 hours with him. You decide you’ll think about that later as you let the feeling of him engulf you now. 

“Oh, I’m so close,” he announces, and you can tell by the way his pace grows increasingly sloppier. He lets down one of your legs to free up his hand to bring back to your bruised clit, rubbing haphazard circles to make up for his also haphazard hip pace. 

You can’t imagine minding, though, especially not right now when the desperation of it all has you building up your third high, “Me too, fuck, me too.” 

Chan thrusts into you a couple more times before you announce that you're cumming, and the way you're clenching down on him harder than ever before has him letting out the loudest moan of the night as he begins to cum mere seconds after you. You can feel his hot liquid shoot into your walls, the slickness making your head spin even further. 

You’re near passing out when Chan pulls out of you, flopping down on the bed next to you. Neither of you speak as you catch your breath for the nth time that night, somehow finding it within yourself to turn over to land your head on Chan’s outstretched arm. He doesn’t hesitate to bring you in as you curl up under his arm, head on his shoulder. 

“Where do you get all that energy from?” you mumble into his arm. 

He laughs a little at the question, dropping a kiss on your head, “Comes naturally when you have such a pretty thing to please.” 

You snort in response, trying to hide the very apparent fluttering in your chest. Even after the amount of time you’ve spent having him all for yourself, you doubt the butterflies would ever leave – especially when he continues to drop his corny yet effective lines at any given opportunity. 

“Shut up.”

“I don’t think you want me to,” he retorts, lolling his head to look at you, hair flopping on his forehead as he smiles at the sight of you. 

“Fair enough.” 

You both giggle a little, a little dazed at the cloud in the room. It falls into comfortable silence after, as you continue to gain your bearings after a session like that. Your mind begins to wander, thoughts landing you in the kitchen where the red flowers are now decorated. 

“I know you’re a sap, which is why I’m asking you this,” you start, shifting to look at him. His face is glistening. “But what made you choose those flowers in specific?” 

He thinks for a moment.

“The dahlia itself means… lasting grace. Beauty that remains, love to be declared.” 

You stare at him as he licks his lips, “Red dahlias, those mean perseverance. Strength, power.”

He shifts so he isn’t on his back anymore, facing you entirely. “I don’t know much about flower talk, but I hoped both of those things together would tell you that… my love for you is stronger than the years. And I intend to prove it to you if you’ll let me.”

You’re tearing up now, and he can see it in the way your eyes turn from shiny to an overwhelming pool. Before he can say anything, you’re lurching forward to kiss him, smashing your mouths together in a way that you can only call dramatic, your tears dropping to hit his cheeks. 

He brings a hand up to steady you, cupping your face to hold you there as you continue to peck his lips over and over. 

“Thank you for loving me,” you mumble against his lips in a nasally voice. 

“Thank you for loving me. Thank you,” he kisses you again, “for being born.”

You laugh a little, wet cheeks and sniffles to complete the look. 

Chan can only wipe your tears away with a brush of his hand and hope that those tears remain happy, with him, for the rest of your days. 

[dovveri]

aftermath

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 ▸ part 2 ▸ part 3 ▸ part 4 ▸ part 5 ▸ part 6

synopsis: the finale! and then the afterparty :')

warnings: suggestive, cursing, sana kisses a fictional man im sorry

w/c: 2.9k

a/n: surprise! double feature release! bcs theyre both quite short compared to the other chapters and i lwk just wanted to close this series and be done with it - im v happy w and vvvv grateful for all the support ive received w this - it was my first ever published fic and 36.7k words later im pretty happy w how it ends :)) stay healthy and safe!! mwah <3

⊱✿⊰

true to her word, sana ended up telling everyone that she had gained feelings for you during the filming experience. you had wanted to go with her but she insisted it would be easier for those who had gained feelings for her to accept it if you weren't there. so you were stuck at home, twiddling your thumbs watching reruns of the last few episodes anxiously waiting for her to come home.

you're up in seconds when you hear the door click open softly, rushing to greet her.

"hey! how'd they take it?"

sana's a little surprised to see you in such a hurry, but recovers quickly, smiling and tilting your chin down to peck you sweetly.

"hello to you too. they were okay." you help her organise her things as she settles in, "jihyo was obviously eliminated after house visits like i promised i'd do. i still have a soft spot for her but it was easier to talk to the other three when she wasn't there, probably because i could get my entire story across uninterrupted. unfortunately, jiwon decided to forfeit herself after the news which she has every right to do. the producers are going to mark it off as a family emergency and say she can no longer participate in the filming."

"oh... and the other two?"

"momo took it pretty hard, but jacky seemed to already have a clue what was going on. they both agreed to stay on until the end of the season though. i still feel terrible for having to put them through this, especially the last 2 dates with each of them, knowing that they don't have a chance with me anymore..."

"hey, it's okay. they agreed to stay right? they're being good friends right now and feeling bad or sorry for them and not giving it your all for the last few days isn't going to be helpful for them."

she sighs, "you're right. after all this craziness is over i'll definitely try and do something for them."

you smile, pecking her temple, "and i'll help you."

⊱✿⊰

because there were no more group dates, and the season would end after the final 2 dates and the decision sana makes, you weren't really needed for the filming of the rest of the season.

so most of your time was spent at home, lounging around in the pool or in the kitchen while sana was out on extravagant dates not with you, and completely bored out of your mind.

at nights, you'd bound excitedly up to sana and find out what adventure she went on, completely attached to her, even sitting on top of the toilet seat while she was in the shower so you were never apart. the seperation anxiety for just a few hours was definitely something that caught you a little off guard but after spending practically every minute together while filming, combined with your newfound romantic love for her, you couldn't bear being apart from her.

soon enough, the final day of filming came. it was set in this beautiful meadow with flower strands that reached mid-calf. sana was in the most perfect sundress, like she belonged in the meadow, like she was aphrodite herself born not from the sea, but the flowers.

typically, the final choice is snapped together with flashy editing between tension building scenes of sana walking up to both of the final contestants in two different settings. they filmed her rejection shot the day before already, so there wasn't much suspense watching as sana walked through the meadow towards her final choice. not that there needed to be, you were enthralled enough just being able to take in the breathtaking view that was minatozaki sana, just imagining it was you she was walking gently towards.

but it wasn't. and the mindless chatter of the cameras and crew served to remind you that again, you had to stand in the background while the love of your life confessed to someone that wasn't you. no amount of reassurance from her would be able to get the feeling of utter despair out of you.

⊱✿⊰

sana walks forward with a gentle, rehearsed smile.

"hi."

"hey sana."

"how are you feeling?"

"could be better. i'm either about to have my heart broken in front of the entirety of korea and my family back home or i'm about to be able to call the most beautiful girl on the planet my girlfriend. pretty big moment."

sana giggles, "welll... jacky... regardless of the outcome-"

"oooooh that word's not a great sign is it?"

she hushes him, "shhh, just let me finish. jacky... the time on this show, the time you've given me, has been absolutely incredible. from the first time i met you with your charming smile and lively wit, it was hard to forget your dual entrance with eunji, both of you looking absolutely dapper in your suits. and then on our individual date, you dared to go on that hot air balloon at the asscrack of dawn to watch the sunrise with me, and even though i'm not totally sure if you did see it or not, the fact that you went up there, and you overcame that fear, it was so inspiring and courageous of you. it was that moment that really made me realise the kind of person you were, and the courage, and fun you'd bring into a relationship, and even to a family in the future. that is... if you wanted to officially become my boyfriend?" she finishes her piece with a shy smile, a strand of hair falling cinematically over her face while she peers up at him under her eyelashes.

jacky gapes a little, and then he's grinning, hoisting her up in a whoop and spinning her around on the spot, stopping finally to plant his lips on hers.

when they break apart, they both have the widest smiles on their faces, eyes glowing in adoration of each other.

"yes! yes of course i'd be honoured sana! i hope to spend the rest of our lives together until we grow old and wrinkly and our kids have to come dote on us in the retirement home while we annoy them with how unbelievably cute we are even in our old age. and i look forward to watching reruns of our season and being able to show our kids how absolutely gorgeous their mom looked and how incredibly lucky i got being able to be the one at the end of it all!"

there are happy tears and more kisses, hugs, and spins, and with that, the bachelorette season for 2024, is officially over.

⊱✿⊰

"eugh, did you seriously kiss him?"

sana throws the popcorn at you playfully, "yes but it was all planned babe and you're a way better kisser anyway."

"show me."

"oh i will." sana grins, sliding into your lap, pushing the bag of popcorn aside, lips immediately finding yours while the credits for the final bachelorette episode run in the background.

you smile into the kiss, hands finding their place naturally on her waist while her hands cup your face, tilting her head slightly to angle the kiss better.

she breaks away with an over-exaggerated smack that has you rolling your eyes and wiping at your lips in mock disgust.

"so now that the final episode is out... are we allowed to be seen in public together yet?" you're voice is whiny, pleading with her.

she coos, "my little babyy, i thought you weren't big on pda?"

"well i'm not but i'm sick of everyone thinking that you're with someone that's not me!"

sana giggles, "just think how this is for jacky right now. poor eunji..."

you scoff, "eunji will be fine. she's never been one to care about what the public thinks anyway."

"everyone says that but no-one is immune to societal pressure." she boops your nose with her finger gently, "but to answer your question, yes. we'll be able to go public soon i promise. and soon enough the tabloids will get bored of me and move on to the next big celebrity or whatever anyways so it'll be fine. now c'mon, we gotta get ready for the reunion, get your cute lil butt into your fit for the night."

you groan, pulling her back down when she tries to move off of you, "nooooo one more movie?"

sana laughs, pushing you out of her neck, "absolutely not. i'm not gonna be the only star for tonight, this time we're both gonna be the centre of attention, and we cannot be late! i swear if we don't get ready now you're sleeping here on the couch tonight."

"what?! you wouldn't!"

"i would."

"you couldn't survive without cuddles anyway."

"i can replace you with mr. bean."

"not my arch nemesis... i knew winning that bear for you was a bad decision... i'll rip off his stuffed head..."

sana laughs freely, "as if winning was a decision for you. you went back to that stall like 6 times."

"i should've left him there the 5th time..."

"nope! so if you don't want me getting all close and personal with him tonight you're gonna come get ready now with no funny business."

she stands up and you let her, your hands still attached as she pulls you up as well.

you smirk, "what funny business? i never pull any funny business!"

"yeah like the time you fucked me in a bathroom while everyone was waiting for us outside to start filming for national television. and then did it again at a public amusement park like a week later."

"i don't recall you saying no."

"well i'm saying no funny business now."

"okaaaaaayyyyy." you grin, fingers crossed behind your back while you follow her to your room to get dressed.

⊱✿⊰

"y/n!"

"miyeon oh my god!"

miyeon's running towards you with her arms outstretched, easily wrapping them around you the moment she sees you.

you laugh into her, hand still held in sana's while you greet her.

"sana too hi!"

miyeon breaks away from you easily, going in to hug your girlfriend with her everlasting friendliness.

"how are you guys!? i heard through the grapevine that after the filming ended you were finally able to get together officially, even though you kinda had to keep it on the down low so it wasn't like publicly official but it's a step further?"

you laugh, "awwwh yeah you heard right, but now that the show is officially over..." you bring you and sana's intertwined hands up to your lips, kissing her knuckles, "we can say we're officially together!"

miyeon squeals happily, "yay! i'm so happy for both of you. really. no jealousy sana?"

sana laughs as well, hitting miyeon playfully, "noo don't remind me."

"oh i'm afraid it's permanent now. unless they burn every single copy of this season the day you broke my heart is forever recorded in history."

"oh god... y/n... swear to me you'll never show this to our kids."

"can't do that babe. gotta show them their mom in her prime. the sweetheart of korea at one point in her life."

"just one point?"

"sweetheart of mine for my whole life obviously."

sana grins, kissing you cheesily, miyeon doesn't even mind, simply happy to see both her friends together.

"are jacky and eunji here?" you ask miyeon when you break away with a smile.

"i haven't seen them but i also haven't said hi to everyone yet. c'mon let's go!" she leads you into the garden where the party's being hosted.

you and sana are attached by the hip, if one of you has to let go of the other's hand, another body part will eventually replace it, your skin contact is constant, never parting from one another while you greeted all the old contestants.

some were still a little surprised to see that sana had come with you in hand and not with jacky, but she explained what happened patiently, apologising for the confusion.

"jacky! eunji!" sana spots them first, calling them out.

you grin at the sight of them, wearing matching suits, hand in hand, waving them down.

"hey couple of the hour! how are you guys faring tonight?"

"oh says you. finally got the girl jacky?"

jacky blushes, "crazy how things turned out right? just two sets of best friends realising they're in love with each other and not the person they're both dating. kinda lucky it turned out that way so we could fake that finale sana. it's just a shame for momo..."

"yeah i felt terrible especially after all she did with that home visit in japan. but i talked to her after filming ended and we actually get along really well as friends, we have so much more in common and so much more to talk about when we're not in a controlled environment like the filmset!"

"you guys talking about me?"

you turn in a flash, surprised but excited to see momo coming up behind you.

"momoring!"

sana goes in for a hug first, which momo gladly returns with a giggle.

"hi everyone. it's nice to see you all again outside of the filming."

"of course! it's great to see you again too. how have you been holding up?"

"oh alright. i was contacted already to be on the next season of bachelor in paradise which is always just a massive orgy i swear, so i won't be going on, but i heard jiwon accepted a place!"

sana pouts, "i hope jiwon's okay... she's the only finalist i haven't talked to since breaking the news. i thought it'd be too soon to reach out to her after she left..."

"you talked to me right?" momo playfully nudges sana's shoulder, "jiwon's doing better. she's happy for you both, really. and she's getting her second chance so there's really nothing she's complaining about."

sana smiles gratefully, "i'm glad."

momo turns her attention to the other couple, "and jacky, eunji! i can't believe you guys got together in the end! i mean i was pretty oblivious in the house but nayeon always swore there was something between you two. guess she was right."

eunji laughs, "it came as a surprise to the both of us as well. i guess we just spent so much time together in the house that it was a lot like old times and then when seeing each other go off with sana and realising we weren't jealous of each other but jealous of sana, well that did it!"

"this entire thing is honestly just a mess of feelings. i don't know how you guys do it as contestants. i had a hard enough time not even being a part of the competition."

"to be fair you did kinda insert yourself in pretty heavily when you started sleeping with sana."

"hey!"

there's laughs and teasing all round. the night goes on like this, in the company of people you've grown easily close to in a very short amount of time, and holding hands with the woman you fell in love with.

⊱✿⊰

"sana, y/n, can i steal you both for a minute?"

you both turn, surprised to see jihyo there, looking a little sheepish. you squeeze sana's hand, looking to her for confirmation. she nods, clearing her throat, "yeah. sure jihyo."

jihyo leads you to a quieter clearing, then stands in front of the both of you, eyes on the ground, awkwardly rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"i just wanted to say i'm sorry for how i acted the last time we saw each other. i was jealous and petty for bringing sungbin and i wanted to throw sana off her game so that she'd admit she was in love with you on national television. i went into it wanting to embarass sana and i'm sorry."

sana sighs, gripping your hand reassuringly, "we know. it's okay jihyo. i'm sorry about how it went down between us. i do hope you find the right person one day."

jihyo looks up then, "thank you. really. and it probably doesn't mean a lot coming from me but i am glad the two of you ended up finding each other. she makes you happier than i've ever seen you sana. i genuinely hope for all the best for the both of you."

"thank you jihyo." sana smiles at you then, and you return it softly. "she does make me really happy."

"after some time... maybe you could both come by again? my siblings and my parents miss you lots and i'd like to make it up to both of you for the last time you were there."

"we'd love to. thank you jihyo."

jihyo smiles gratefully, bowing and leaving the two of you alone.

sana sighs, turning to you and looping her arms around your neck.

"you okay?"

she hums, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead against yours. "never better."

you giggle, stealing a quick kiss, "the headlines are gonna get pretty crazy once they get wind of the current couples."

"let them have their drama. all i need is you."

"cheesy."

"you love it."

"i love you."

"i love you too." she grins, bringing you into another kiss, sealing the love you have for each other between your lips.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 0

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there. Some dialogue's taken directly from the English version's prologue.

This world, it’s full of despair.

It comes in different forms, both big and small.

Even so, it wears down on the mind all the same, and can even take lives.

(I’ve been searching for a way to fight against it)

--

Ellis: Thanks for queueing with me, Roger.

This morning, Ellis had asked me out of the blue to go with with him to a cafe that looked like something out of a picture book as a “favor”.

In a space that was full of women, Ellis and I drew curious glances.

Roger: So, what the hell is that “thing” making people queue up so early in the morning?

The cafe recently went through some renovations and the first 30 customers would get some kind of gift.

Ellis: A tin of biscuits. It’s something Harry wanted but since he’s on a mission, I came in his place.

Roger: Haha, so that’s it. Then I’ll give him my share too ‘cause having two will make him “happier” than having one.

The man sitting in front of me’s been busy making people happy today.

Ellis: By the way, I had some business at the pub yesterday and a woman asked me where Roger was. I gave her some excuse because I know you don’t like dealing with that kind of trouble.

I’m someone that doesn’t believe in romantic love.

It’s something that’s not scientifically proven. If “romantic love” does exist in this world, then…

(It’s a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire)

Seems like Ellis knew me well.

Roger: You’re too good for Jude, you know. I’ll buy you drinks as thanks.

Ellis: Yippee. Ah, I think I’ll get something for Jude. I’m going to take a look around, okay?

Roger: Do what you want. Pick what would make Jude “happy”. 

As I watched Ellis make his way into the store with nimble steps—

(...Hm?)

I heard a voice cutting into this peaceful morning coming from the flower shop across the street

Flower shop owner: The delivery was delayed due to construction? Ha, how typical for a female postal workers.

I couldn’t see the face of the postwoman that was getting yelled at from here.

However, with my ears that let me pick up sounds 100 yards away, I could hear her heartbeat.

It was unsteady, probably because she was scared.

(“How typical for a female.” …What a bastard)

(If it escalates, I’ll step in—)

In the moment, her dignified voice rang out.

Kate: My sincerest apologies! I will be more careful in the future. For now, will you please accept this?

The man who was yelling is taken aback, likely feeling guilty after her apology.

Flower shop owner: Y-yeah… As long as you understand. Just be careful from now on.

I heard her let out a deep breath.

(So that postwoman’s someone that tries to be strong… Not bad)

Ellis: I’m back, Roger….Is something wrong?

Roger: No? Wow, you bought a lot?

Ellis: I wanted to get something for everyone. I’ll ask Victor to make tea and we can all have them together. Oh yeah, speaking of Victor…He said he has a mission for all of Crown.

Roger: Oh? Having us all together’s pretty rare. Could be an annoying one so let’s try not to get hurt.

--

Having said that, it ended without a single injury or incident.

—At least it was supposed to until an uninvited guest wandered in.

The woman standing there covered in blood, looking pale, was neither cursed nor a target. Just unlucky.

Jude: Tch…That’s why I toldja to lock the damn door!

Roger: Haha, well I didn’t think we’d have a trespasser! She’s a naughty lil’ thing, isn’t she?

My ears picked up an irregular heartbeat.

(...This sound. …No way)

—But that hunch soon came true.

The lil’ lady called Kate who stumbled upon Crown was presented to the palace’s grim reaper like a main dish.

(Now that she knows some classified info, she can’t leave without consequences)

(Worst case scenario, what waits for her is—)

Then, the lil’ lady in her hopeless situation spoke up with a dignified voice.

Kate: I swear I’ll never tell anyone about anything I just heard!

Victor: Hmm…Hm? What’s this?

Kate: I swear to protect your secret. I-I’m a letter carrier, and we’ve been trained to…maintain strict confidentiality!

Victor and William: …

Kate: If you think you can’t trust me, then go ahead and keep me under watch until you believe you can! I promise I’ll prove it.

A brave and logical proposal.

However, despite her demeanor, her heartbeat continued pounding in my ears.

The sound that didn’t match the attitude—it had me convinced.

(Ah…so she’s the postwoman from that time)

Her loud heartbeat gave away her true feelings.

(“Please don’t kill me”)

Among the anxiety was the strong desire to live and fight against despair.

(...Nice. This lil’ lady could be interesting)

I didn’t feel any sort of love or affection, but I felt this strange exhilaration in my heart.

So I thought—It'd be a shame to kill her.

(Come to think of it, at that time…)

I did “hear” her footsteps and heartbeat when she wandered in.

I could’ve made her avoid Crown.

(But I didn’t)

(Deep down, I was waiting for “something”...which is probably why I invited this heartbeat in)

I could imagine how angry this lil’ lady would be if she knew…

Victor: Well, well, what a good idea! I think we can actually make use of you. Accepted!

Kate: …Really?

Victor: Let’s see…All right, from today forward, you shall be Crown’s own personal…Fairytale Keeper!

Under the command of Victor, the Queen’s aide who controls Crown, enigmatic position of “Fairytale Keeper” was filled by Kate, saving her life.

Roger: Let’s try to get along this month, yeah?

Kate: Of course, Roger.

--

Ellis: Hey, Roger. Earlier, why did you look like you were having fun?

Roger: Earlier?

Ellis: When we were discussing whether or not to kill Kate.

(...This guy can really read people)

Roger: Well…I guess it’s ‘cause it’s been a while since I saw something interesting.

Ellis: Hehe, I see. Then… Would Kate being here overthrow your theory…and make you happier?

Basically he was asking if I’d fall in love with Kate and be happy.

Roger: Ellis, you’re aware of my curse…right?

Ellis: The double-crossing hunter from Snow White.

Roger: Right…The queen had ordered the hunter to bring her the heart of the detestable Snow White. But the hunter betrayed the queen by letting the girl go in the forest and instead, brought the queen a heart of an animal. After that, Snow White met a prince after her life was saved…And now here’s a question. Why do you think Snow White chose the prince instead of the hunter who saved her life?

Ellis: Huh?...I don’t know.

Roger: Because that’s just how it’s supposed to be. Because there’s supposed to be a happy ending.

Not to mention the fact that this is reality, not a fairy tale.

A man who doesn’t believe in love and a little robin who’ll leave after the month’s up—the relationship won’t develop into love or affection.

(...That’s what I think)

(But then why does my heart beat weirdly when I look at the lil’ lady?)

[madamewalburga]

*clears throat* My personal headcanon is that Sirius used to be Walburga’s favorite son.

The moment he was born, she already knew he was special. Her firstborn. She always tells people that stars started dancing in the sky when Sirius first cried as a baby. Sirius was a happy and smart child. He learned the spells much quickly than kids his age. Put him in a room full of kids and he will come out as the ringleader. He always covers for Regulus, and she lets him, because she likes seeing how responsible her baby is becoming. Charming, regal, powerful. The perfect Black. The perfect heir.

But also, Sirius had a streak of rebelliousness (just like her!). He knew the rules, he knew how to play with it, and in it. But he also did not want to bow down to anything, never wanted anybody to be his equal. Sirius accepts others, but also never forgets that he’s above everyone. The perfect Black.

She gives him everything. The best robes, best quills, best paints. She lets him access the forbidden books because she has no doubt in his intellect, or his self-preservation. She lets him go to the Muggle hunts because she knows Arcturus loves Sirius and she knows how happy her son is when Grandfather and Father acknowledge him. (She earns a slap when she questions him what happened, why did Sirius come home so quiet.) She leaves Regulus with him often, and her heart breaks a little at how Regulus shrinks himself (just a little!) but that is how it should be and she’s proud of him. Regulus is the second son. He should understand as early as he can that he is and should never be Sirius’ equal. She brings him to Pureblood gatherings and her heart swells with pride every time a child excuses themselves with a forlorn expression, realizing that they are nowhere near her baby boy’s level. The perfect Black.

She sees him sit beside a bespectacled boy on the Hogwarts Express. The boy waves to Euphemia Potter, and though they are not her family of choice, the Potters are purebloods and that boy will do. Her darling boy will soon ignore him after the usual pleasantries. And if he does not, he will be forgotten once Sirius is in Hogwarts.

That night, she bites her lip through Orion’s Cruciatus (Didn’t I tell you all your coddling would make him weak! How much shame should I have to endure due to your rebelliousness?) after news of Sirius’ sorting has reach 12 Grimmauld Place. Regulus is asleep and Orion Black is not the man who will finally make her scream. She writes to the Headmaster. There has been a mistake! No Black has ever been sorted outside of Slytherin and it certainly would not be her firstborn. The perfect Black! She writes to Sirius, telling him to go to the Headmaster and the Head of House Slytherin. She tells him everything will be fine.

Two days later, she receives Sirius’ reply. “Everything is fine, mother. I like it here. The first Gryffindor Black!” She’s torn between disgust and pride. How did this happen? Sirius knew how to play within in the rules. Is he making his own rules? Is this what it was?

The ladies in society mock her as they pass. Hushed whispers of “I told you so” floated around her for weeks. She tightens her grip on Regulus’ wrist as she quickens their pace. A warning. A protection. She tells him over and over again to not make his brother’s mistake. A warning. A protection. (Regulus has always seen it as a threat.)

Sirius goes home for the holidays a completely different person. He talks about James and Remus (half-blood!) and Peter (another half-blood!). He talks about James and Quidditch. He talks about James and Evans (mudblood!!!!). He tells Regulus all these stories about Hogwarts and the Red House and Walburga wants to blast that blasted castle to ash. He’s talking with his hands moving and his legs spread too far apart. She sees him sit up straight when he catches her glaring. Orion yells at her every night, blaming her for everything that Sirius has become. She curses the Potter boy under her breath. Curses the Sorting Hat. Dumbledore. Everyone. They have corrupted her boy. The perfect Black.

She sends him off to the Express once more after the Holidays are over. He kisses her cheek and says he’ll miss her. “I know you’re not happy with this, Mother, but I am. And I truly am sorry to break your heart, please know that.” She squeezes his hand and she swallows the tightness in her throat as she bids him goodbye.

She received so many letters of his troublemaking tendencies the following year. And the year after that. And the year after. She has written so many letters as well, with hands still shaking from anger, shame, or Orion’s last curse, reminding Sirius of who he was. The Black heir. The one set to stand over everyone in the Noble and Most Ancient House.

Her nails started digging itself deeper on Regulus’ skin. Reminding him not to make the same mistakes his brother did. He didn’t and Walburga loved him so, so much for that.

12 Grimmauld Place is always loud when Sirius is home for the holidays. So many arguments due to his behavior. Sirius has always talked back and Walburga has always been proud of him when he does it, but now he’s defending mudbloods in her house, asking if his half-blood friends can come over and she wonders since when did she start resenting the sound of her firstborn’s voice.

Since when was Sirius a complainer? Could he not see that he was given everything? That he had it easy? That she has protected him from everything, every evil his father could do to him? He used to be the most perfect son, how did this even happen? Did he not realize how many times Walburga gritted her teeth to protect him? How much she has endured to make sure he would grow up differently and less painfully?

It turns out her firstborn would be finally be the man to make her scream.

And Walburga screamed and screamed and screamed. She cursed him and shamed him and belittled him. And Sirius screamed back. As expected. He cursed her and shamed her and belittled her.

The baby boy she raised so carefully, broken to pieces by her.

Years later, Orion is dead and she believes she is free. The war is still raging and she is scared Regulus would soon be dead after defecting. She allows herself to believe in that freedom.

She reads the Prophet everyday, hoping she does not see certain names in the Obituaries.

Regulus knocks on her door and tells her he will be missing dinner and to not wait up for him. She does not reply. She continues to stare blankly at the window when her secondborn kneels beside her. He holds her hand and kisses her cheek and apologizes for breaking her heart.

She blinks away memories of an eleven year old at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters telling her the same thing. She slowly turns to Regulus and asks, for the first time ever, “Where is your brother?”

Regulus smiles softly. “I don’t know. Though he is in a happier place, I’m sure.”

“Was he unhappy here?”

Regulus takes a while before replying. “Not always. But he was always lonely.”

Walburga struggles to believes that, but Regulus does not have to hear it.

Two years later, she receives boxes of Sirius’ belongings after he was sent to Azkaban and she screams again. Out of despair, shame, frustration, she does not know. She wanted to burn every single one of those and she would have, had Kreacher not opened a box and a framed photo of Sirius in a wedding sat on top of that pile. Did he get married? She did not even know. She realizes the Potter boy is also in the picture and remembers the first time Sirius yelled at her (Why are you friends with someone in love with a Mudblood— / Don’t call her that! Don’t you dare call her that!). He reaches for Sirius’ face in that photo and oh... She remembers how her baby boy used to smile like that. He used to smile at her like that.

“He was always lonely.”

She commands Kreacher to close the boxes and take it up Sirius’ old room.

Walburga Black would really rather not rethink all her choices in life but alas, all there is for old people waiting to die is time. She would never admit to it, not that there are people left alive for her to admit her guilt to.

And if she visits both her sons’ rooms and silently grieve all the love she spent and lost, no one would have to know.

[transchesters]

inspired by this post. couldn’t stop thinking about it so i had to write this <3 ends abruptly but i could be persuaded into writing more 🫢

sam winchester was cursed to be an abomination before he was even born. the fates, or perhaps god himself, decided long ago that the youngest winchester brother would be lucifer's perfect vessel. sure, it was mary who made the deal with azazel — her youngest for john's life — but azazel would have wound up in little sammy's nursery, dripping his rancid blood into the baby's mouth.

somewhere down the line, sam accepted this about himself. he was an abomination, only a slight step away from the demons he hunted. when he drank from ruby, he believed it was worth it, that it was the right thing to do. he was saving lives here! but then, ruby was dead, and lilith was dead, and lucifer rose from hell. all because of *him*. he had let himself grow blind enough to be manipulated by the lowest of the low, all because she told him it would make him powerful. and if he was powerful, then he could do anything, save anyone.

how stupid he had been. he had let everyone down. dean, bobby... castiel. castiel, who should have killed him the moment they met. who forgave him each time he fell. who picked him back up, rescued him from the cage, and took on the burden of his memories. like sam was something worth saving, or protecting.

it's well past midnight when sam wanders into the main room of the bunker, rubbing at his dark-circled eyes, unaware of the angel sitting at the table who is leafing through old men of letter's records.

"sam. you look unwell."

sam blinks, though he isn't startled by castiel's presence. if anything, he is grateful for it. grateful and undeserving.

"shouldn't you be sleeping?" comes castiel's voice again, his brow furrowed as it usually is. his blue eyes are sharp and curious as sam walks his way, soon sitting down in the chair across from his.

"probably. doesn't mean i can," sam replies, peeking over to see what castiel is reading, but the angel closes the book before he gets a chance to. when sam looks up with a raised brow, the expression on castiel's face is unreadable. "what?"

"why is it that you still torture yourself, sam?" castiel questions suddenly, leaning forward as he rests his arms on the table, lacing his fingers together in front of him. when the only response he gets is a confused look from sam, he tilts his head and continues. "you have such a low opinion of yourself. even after all the good you have done, all the lives you have saved, you still think of yourself as the boy with the demon blood."

sam's face falls flat, and he stiffens in his chair. why did castiel have to be so perceptive, and so straightforward? "i dunno, man. we don't need to get into that right now," he mumbles eventually, averting his eyes from the blue ones that see right through him. he runs a hand through his hair, trying not to think about the last time his insomnia kept him up for so long.

"yes, we do. if it will ease your troubles and allow you to heal, then yes. we do."

sam thinks about that response for several seconds before he finally looks at castiel again, heaving a sigh. "why do you even care, cas? you said it yourself, the day we met. i'm the boy with the demon blood. that's what i am, above being a hunter, above being dean's brother, above everything." something about castiel's eyes urge him to spill his guts, and he suddenly can't stop talking. "i'm unclean. unholy. even after all this time, i still feel it in me. every time i kill a demon, i think about how good it would feel to drink it's blood, and then i hate myself a little more. i'm a monster, cas. i'm no better than them."

their eye contact is unwavering, and as sam falls silent, they are both still. castiel, who has become as precious to sam as dean, stares at him with a profound sadness in his eyes. sam deserves none of it.

"you could fix me," sam says suddenly, the idea hardly formed in his mind before he's latching on to it, leaning forward suddenly so he's closer to castiel. "you, you're the opposite of me. you're pure and just and perfect."

castiel blinks owlishly, his head cocked to the side in a way that makes sam want to weep. how can an angel sit before him like this and not feel anything but revulsion?

"sam, if i could heal you, i would. but there is nothing to heal. there is nothing wrong with you." castiel frowns as sam scoffs at his words, almost pouting. "there isn't. the demon blood within you is just a part of you. there is nothing to be done about it. you can fight your urges, and you can do the right thing. that's all that matters, in the end."

perhaps he means to sound reassuring, but sam just feels sick. he's shaking his head before castiel even finishes his sentence. "you're wrong. i’m wrong, on a molecular level. but you can help me!" without thinking, sam reaches out, grapsing castiel's hand in his own. he's surprised to find that castiel's skin is much cooler than that of a normal human. he's also surprised that castiel doesn't recoil from the touch. instead, their hands twine together like they have done this before. like their hands belong together.

"i want to help you," castiel says in a quiet tone, briefly looking down at their hands, feeling an unusual flutter in his chest. "what can i do for you, sam? i will do anything in my power." devotion is clear in his tone, but sam doesn't notice. he's too far gone into hating himself and trying to fix himself.

"it's angel blood. it's your blood — don't you see? you're the only one who can save me and make me right. because, despite everything, you're still here. you let me hold your hand and you heal me after hunts, even though i'm... me. but if you let me have your blood... it would cleanse me." sam isn't sure, really, where the idea came from. if he's been thinking about it for awhile, or if it all just clicked rather suddenly. but he is without a doubt that it will work. that castiel can save him.

castiel looks up from their joined hands and meets sam's eyes again. he takes in the human before him, tainted but lovely, cursed yet trying his hardest. perhaps he is right. demon blood is what ruined sam in the first place, so why shouldn't angel blood be the antidote? and even though castiel tries to rationalize it in his mind, he knows there is no point. because either way, he would say yes.

"of course, sam," he agrees quietly, an angel blade suddenly appearing in his hand.

"wait — not here. i don't want dean to..." sam trails off, because the thought of his brother walking in on this is simply too terrible to speak.

with a ruffle of invisible feathers, they are suddenly seated on sam's bed, in his simple room, devoid of personal touches that would make it truly his. castiel casts his eyes around, noting the differences between this room and dean's, who filled his with memories and mementos the moment they claimed this as their home. he returns his gaze to sam, sitting beside him so their shoulders brush. "it'll be okay, sam," he promises as he begins rolling up the sleeve of his trenchcoat, and then his white shirt, exposing his pale forearm.

sam stares at the soft flesh — unmarked unlike his own which is covered with scars — with a strange feeling in his stomach. he watches with apt interest as castiel drags the silver blade across his skin, a red line of blood following. the angel and the boy with the demon blood lock eyes again for a lingering glance, before sam takes castiel's arm in his hands and pulls it up to his lips.

[shibaraki]

tags: GN reader, migraines and headaches, sensory overload, fluff, mutual feelings, caretaking, implied reader works at tokyo jujutsu high

wc: 1.3k

Satoru can feel it coming.

His focus wanes ever so slightly at first. The energy around him flickers like heat from a flame. Unnatural blips of light dapple his vision, closely followed by a high pitched ringing in his ears. No pain at that point, but his heart hammers awkwardly in his chest because he knows it’s inevitable.

There’s always a generous twenty minute window before his condition takes a hard turn for the worst. Twenty minutes to finish whatever he’s doing—be it fighting, paperwork, training or teaching—and leave with an acceptable excuse.

It’s lucky that Satoru spent years spitting out frivolous, inane things for the sake of antagonism or distraction. People usually waved him off, weary exasperation etched into their brow, never asking questions. Trusting that Gojo Satoru had somewhere important to be. Shoko knew from the start, and that was always one too many.

Then you came along. Too perceptive for your own good. Migraines rarely happened but whenever they did you were all glassy eyed looks and gentle nudges. Satoru, starved for touch and dreading how the pain should soon fill his skull like lead, would feel infinity warp just for the sake of letting your knuckles brush his.

This time he’s lounging in the cold, clinical hallway leading to Shoko’s office waiting for her prognosis on the transfigured corpse he brought back. The cheap luminescence irritates his eyes, and the words he’s reading coalesce into a pulsating blur that won’t readjust no matter how many times he blinks.

Suddenly the magazine on his lap is slapped shut as you lean on the back of the bench, putting the full weight of yourself onto your palm, cursed energy spiking a fraction. “You look peaked,” fingers brush back the loose hairs over his forehead as you softly continue, “Maybe you should go home and rest”.

Not for the first time he is grateful for the mask fastened around his eyes. It does nothing to stave the sensorial discomfort today but at least it conceals his thoughts. “Rude. I was reading my horoscope,” Satoru juts his chin, breathes in steady and huffs through his nose, feigning offense. The forced exhale alone is enough to make him wince.

“See,” you tell him, though not unkindly. Your hand covered his clammy forehead and he tried not to nuzzle into it, already sensing the agonising tip of a spear weedling through his temple. “You’re a little warm, too”.

A door clicks open. Regrettably your hand yanks away and Satoru grits his teeth before he can whine. The atmosphere ripples as infinity seeks to cover him whole. Shoko’s heels echo through the liminal space. Shadows cast across her face under the doorway, highlighting the goading twitch of her mouth. “Am I interrupting?” she asks.

“Yes,” he says at the same time as you reply, “No”.

Shoko scrutinised him a moment longer as Satoru wet his lips and leaned against the heel of his hand in an attempt to discreetly alleviate the pain. While you very notably do not bring up your concerns Shoko realises anyway. “It’ll take a while longer to take this one apart,” she lies smoothly, fiddling with her gloves and snapping them over her coat sleeves. “You might as well go home for now. No point loitering”.

He notices how your cursed energy settles into a relieved simmer, drawn closer when he stands from the bench. “Doesn’t usually take that long,” he commented, purely for show, barely hearing himself over the shriek piercing through his ears.

“Must’ve lost my touch,” Shoko replies dryly. Her gaze slides to you, and gentles. “Can I trouble you in getting him there?”

You nod your assent, “No trouble. I’m heading back that way anyway”.

“Oho? Gonna take me home?” Satoru drapes himself across your back then, pressing his forehead to your warm shoulder. His eyes fall closed and he inhales, the long day mixing into your scent.

You sway under the abrupt weight but you don’t shrug him off. “I’m walking with you, not carrying you,” came your disgruntled voice, betrayed by the contentment visibly spreading through your body. Patting at his hip you tell him, “C’mon, let’s go”.

The journey to the dorms is nothing short of a sensory nightmare. Residual cursed energy clings to every nook and cranny, brighter now and grating to look at. Sweat gathers at his nape as the pain intensifies. You hold his elbow, one palm curved around the pointed edge while the other slips into the crook, giving intermittent squeezes as if to reassure him there’s not long left.

Satoru is both deeply relieved and frustrated to be seen through so easily.

It’s a small mercy that nobody else is around. By the time you’ve guided him into the dorms, Satoru is holding his own head up with his hand. Your murmured incantations tether him until the wooden bed frame knocks the back of his knees and he lowers delicately onto the mattress with a staggered breath.

“How often does this happen?” you ask, reduced to a whisper. While Satoru tries to find it in him to answer, your fingers cradle the back of his neck and recline him onto the pillows, so as not to jostle him further.

This is where he’d interject with a suggestive comment, smile as your pulse quickened, revelling in the effect he has on you even if you don’t intend to act upon it. But the vulnerability renders Satoru useless. He remains in pliant repose, spilling out across his bed like loose yarn, letting you work at the buttons of his shirt.

Soon enough he’s left only in his underwear, chest rising and falling in exertion, and not for any of the reasons he’d like. He hears you tug the curtains shut and pad further into the bathroom. The turning of the tap, the quick running water, all without switching on a light. You return to his side and trail fingertips over his covered brow. “Going to take this off, okay?”

Satoru angles his head in response, allowing you to work at the hook there. His blindfold comes undone, silky ends ghosting over his cheeks, and despite the lack of it he still flinches away from the possibility of light.

The tenderness is overwhelming now. Harsh throbs ricocheting through his skull. He recalls the first time it happened. Back then Satoru had simply attempted to sleep it off. Hours interrupted, restless and nauseous. Angry too. Betrayed by his own body. His bloodline. His technique. Laid trembling in a puddle of his own sweat, the pain carved out a violent loneliness inside of him.

Gojo Satoru does not get to be weak.

“I’ve got you,” your voice ripples through the mire of self loathing, and a cloth saturated in cold water is placed over his eyes, shrouding him in solid darkness once more. The cool sensation seeps into his sockets, and soothes. He shudders.

“There you are,” fingers splayed over his cheek, thumb stroking back and forth over the swell. It’s then that realisation shrikes through him. You’re concealing your residuals. Satoru lolls into your palm and sluggishly thinks of the implications. The words get caught in his throat. Every thought frays and he barely has the strength to grasp a single thread. All but one.

Stay.

“I’m staying over,” you say, as if plucking his plea from the air.

“No dinner first?” Satoru replied. He had meant to be teasing, but his voice cracks at the edges. Consciousness is sand and silt sifting through his fingers. He sighs and paws at your waist as you apply pressure to his temples in lieu of a response and begin a slow, circular motion. The pain ebbs.

“Try to sleep and maybe I’ll let you take me somewhere”.

Satoru’s arms tighten where they’ve coiled around you. He can’t see your expression, nor can he discern your energy. But he hears the promise in your voice, gentle and deliberate.

“Mmn,” he relaxed in small increments, tongue too big for his mouth. Moisture from the cloth trickled down his jaw, behind his ear. The world steadily falls away from him. “…’Kay,” he slurs.

In your capable hands, he sleeps.

[sinofwriting]

Made For Each Other - Max Verstappen

Words: 3,486 Summary: Max never put much stock into love at first sight until meeting her. Note(s)/Warning(s): Near Physical Cheating, Some Emotional Cheating (on Kelly not reader). So this is the toxic!max fic I mentioned and uh yeah this isn’t super like toxic but it’s something. Also, I will not apologize for inserting found family into this fic.

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“What?” Max presses his lips together, jaw twitching and he’s happy that P isn’t here, but with Daniil’s parents. “Things haven’t been good for us in awhile.” Maybe ever. He thinks and nearly winces, because they had been good in the beginning. But things had changed halfway through the 2021 season and it had only gotten worse as the weeks and months went on. “Kelly, it is unfair to you for me to pretend that I want to be with you anymore.” He nearly says that once the season was over he was already planning on breaking up with her, but manages to hold his tongue. She’s looking at him in that way that he hates, that’s caused arguments because it reminds him of his father. “What do you want me to tell P?” He can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes him at her easy acceptance. “Tell her that I will always love her and that if she ever wants to talk to me, she can call and I’ll do my best to answer.” “Okay.” Her voice is quiet and she looks around his apartment. “There shouldn’t be much here, but what you do find, have it shipped to me.” “Of course.”

He watches as Kelly walks towards the front door and maybe he shouldn’t say anything, doesn’t want to give her false hope, but he can’t help it. “Kelly.” She stops, her hand on the door knob ready to turn it. “Thank you for the past few years and all your support.” He sees her shoulders move as she sighs. “Your welcome, Max.” And then she turns the handle and walks out of his apartment.

He watches the door for a moment, feeling like if he looks away, suddenly she’ll be back. But the handle doesn’t turn and he’s spinning around to move to the couch where he had thrown his phone when Kelly had unexpectedly come here.

His thumb quickly moves across the screen, opening his last text message thread and sending a simple text.

I broke up with her.

It stares up at him and three dots appear along with those little check marks and he can’t help but smile. And god if the media could see him now, smiling after just breaking up with his girlfriend of so long, they’d use this as some sort of proof that he is the devil.

And now what?

His smile grows and his thumb moves again.

And now I come to you.

—

“You know, I thought you athletes had to train. Keep fit for the season.” She teases as he watches her move around her small kitchen. “I’ve barely been here a day and you’re kicking me out?” She shakes her head at him. “No it’s just I know that China got canceled, but you do have another race soon.” He shrugs, “It’s at the very end of the month. Besides, there's a gym close by. I can go there.” “And did you tell your trainer that you wouldn’t be home so he shouldn’t drop off any food or expect you?” His eyes widened. “Fuck.” He curses, scrambling out of the kitchen and to the bedroom where his phone is, her laughter ringing in his ears.

Calling Brad, he hears the phone ring three times before his trainer picks up. “Hello,” “Hey Brad, uh I’m not home right now. I mean, I’m not in the uh country.” “Did they call you for some testing?” “Uh no. I’m not there either. Just took a bit of a break, so don’t worry about meals or anything.” There’s a bit of silence before Brad speaks again. “Max, is everything alright?” “Yeah, yes. Everything is fine. I just needed a bit of a break. I’ll see you in Milton on the twenty-first, yeah?” “Sure.” “Great.” And Max hangs up the call, feeling a bit like a hurricane.

“You’ve made me go crazy.” He tells her when he sees her standing in the door of the bedroom, raising an arm when she doesn’t move. She immediately moves into his space, wrapping her arms around his waist, as his arm wraps around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Have I?” “Yes. Meeting you has made me crazy.” “Do you regret it?” “No.” The answer is swift and firm, because no he could never regret it.

So much had changed since he had seen her for the first time just barely two weeks ago. Most of those changes happened in the past forty-eight hours. But he liked those changes.

He liked how he felt ever since she first looked at him, shook his hand, said his name. Liked how she made him smile and laugh. Maybe it was fucked but he liked how in Austrailia when he won and he nearly kissed her at the afterparty, she had to press her hand on his chest and hold him back. Remind him that he had a girlfriend. Had to stop him from pulling out his phone to call her and break up with her right then and there. Liked that despite that, she had taken his unlocked phone, added her number and told him to text her. Pressed her lips to his cheek and let the scent of her bury itself in his brain. He liked that when he first texted her asking when he could see her again, she hadn’t asked who, just told him they could talk when he was single. Liked that barely a day later he had texted her telling her he was and now he was here, with her, in her home.

Max loved however, her. The way she kissed him when he showed up at her doorstep. The then slight shyness she had over her giving him her number and her text, though there was no guilt or apology to be found in her words. Just more disbelief that she had done so. How she smelled, her house smelled. The way she sat, how her fingers brushed over his skin. How passionate she was about her job, about the music she listened to, and the candle that sat beside her bathtub.

And so it comes out. “I love you.”

He shouldn’t be saying it. People would and will call him crazy for it, but he knows himself. He knows what he’s feeling. And he loves her. Loves this woman that he hasn’t even known for a month. And fuck, people like to talk about how love at first sight doesn’t exist and you don’t know when someone is the one immediately or so soon after meeting them, but that isn’t true. There are outliers. He’s got a cousin that married her husband barely a year after dating him and they are happier than any couple he’s ever seen. One of the guys he grew up karting with met his girlfriend and a month later they were moving in together. He thinks they have three kids or maybe it’s four now.

And she, she feels like he was made for her and only her.

“I love you too.” The words aren’t whispered, no shame or doubt on them. Just certainty and he doesn’t know that she’s thinking the same thing. That she was made just for him.

—

She doesn’t come to the next race no matter how much he begs. Even when he’s about to run late for his flight back to the factory, head buried her neck as he pleads with her to come. But she only laughs, brushing her fingers through his hair.

“You just barely made a statement about no longer being with Kelly.” And he kind of hates that there’s no distaste in her voice about him having a girlfriend when they met. He knows that if she had been seeing someone his blood would be boiling everytime his name got brought up or even hinted at. “Give it a bit to settle.” He straightens with a bit of frown, “I won’t hide you.” She laughs, eyes lighting up and it makes him smile. “I’m not asking you too. Just for patience. I don’t want your PR team to end up hating me.” “Miami, then?” She shakes her head, pushing him away. “You have a plane to catch, Max.” “Imola?” He asks, backing up. Eyes widening a bit when she shakes her head again. “Monaco?” “Max!” And she’s laughing again. “Spain?” And this time she nods her head and he groans, picking up his duffel bag that’s been sitting by the door for probably thirty minutes now. “That is so fair away. You will make me wait that long?” “Oh, poor baby. Having to wait just a little over a month.” He pokes his bottom lip out, unashamed to pout. Because yes, not having her with him for the next four races sounded like torture. He had only gotten a taste of what her support was like in Australia. He wanted all of it now.

She must see that on his face because her smile turns fond, no more teasing and she’s capturing his lips in a quick kiss. “It will go by faster than you think, Max. And it gives me enough time to get everything situated so I can really be comfortable working from anywhere in the world.” “So, you’ll join me for the rest of the season?” “Yes.” He grins, pressing their lips together once, then twice. “If it does not go by fast like you say,” She stops him before he can continue. “Go, Max, it will. And I’m always a call away.”

—

The press eagerly awaits Max’s arrival in Baku. Hoping to see the two time world champion, downtrodden, miserable, regretful. Instead they get an even better story. He arrives at the track on the phone laughing, smile wide and body relaxed. It wasn’t the image of a man who had just separated from his girlfriend of a few years. It was the image of a man happier than he ever had been before.

They all want to ask questions, want to ask who he’s talking to, what or who perhaps has him smiling. Why did he and Kelly break up? Did he break up with her? Did she with him? But none of them are willing to risk the odd relationship that Red Bull has with the press, kind even generous until you cross the line.

—

“No more races without you.” He murmurs when she arrives at his hotel in Spain, his breath causing goosebumps to appear on her neck. “No more.” She agrees, before pulling slightly away, just so they can look at each other. “Hi.” She greets. He smiles at her. “Hi.” “Congrats on Monaco.” He huffs, but something warm fills him with her words. “You said that on the phone.” “That was on the phone.” She teases, before lifting her arms to loop them around his neck. “Proud of you, Max.” He doesn’t know how to respond to that, to how sincere her words are, so he presses their lips together.

“I love you.” She breathes when they break apart, panting slightly with shiny and swollen lips. “I love you too.”

—

The camera's shuttering intensifies as soon as Max’s car that he was given for the race weekend arrives at the track on Saturday. And it only gets worse when instead of just locking the car and starting his walk to the red bull garage, he rounds to the other side, opening the passenger door and helping a woman get out.

This woman is not one that any of them recognize. She is not Max’s mother or sister. She is not Kelly or some sort of model, super, instagram, or swimsuit. And even better they don’t recognize this Max. Who as soon as she is out of the car, purse in hands, shuts the door for her, which is fairly typical for him. But what is not is the way he presses his lips to hers for a quick kiss, before snaking an arm around her waist, a sort of love sick smile on his face as they begin the walk.

“I can’t believe you wanted me to come to one of these things earlier.” She murmurs to him, giving a wave to all the cameras. If she was going to do this, be with Max, she’d have to get used to them and quickly. “I still wish you had.” He murmurs back, squeezing her waist and turning his head to press his nose quickly to the top of her head. “Did you tell anyone about me or that I was coming?” She asks, though she already has a feeling what the answer is as they move further into the paddock and sees some of the drivers do double takes. He smirks, “now why would I do that?” She shakes her head, “your PR team is going to kill you and I’m going to watch.” Her eyes then catch on a slightly familiar man who’s looking at Max with murder in his eyes and she amends her statement. “Daniel is going to kill you and I’m going to watch.” Max pales slightly as he takes a look at the man she only knows from his stories and a few brief clips she’s seen on youtube.

As soon as they enter Red Bull’s hospitality for the weekend, Daniel pounces. Dragging Max and her since Max refuses to let go of her, to Max’s drivers room.

When the door closes, Daniel shoves Max though she expects more gently than he normally would due to her and stands in front of the door, hands on his hips, anger and disappointment warring on his face.

“Max.” “Daniel.” He replies, though it's a bit meek and she can’t help but give his hand a quick squeeze before letting go and stepping away. Not returning to his side despite the offended and hurt look he gives her. She shakes her head. “I told you that you could tell people.”

Daniel turns to look at her, giving her a quick grin. “I like you.” He declares before turning back to Max, grin gone.

“Seriously Max. First there was Kelly and you breaking up, which I found out through social media and you still haven’t told me how that whole thing went down.” She winces at the exasperation in Daniel’s voice. She knew from Max how close they were, considering themselves brothers just about and she couldn’t imagine how Daniel felt learning about Max’s breakup from social media and not the man himself.

“And now this!” He waves his hands around between her and Max. “I’m sure you're great.” He tells her quickly and she gives him a sheepish smile. “I mean really Max. What gives?” Max stares at the older man, unsure of what exactly to say to him.

It wasn’t like he didn’t think the people he was closest to weren’t going to have a reaction to the news of his breakup and now new relationship. It’s just that besides Daniel none of them had really reached out wanting to know what happened because they were all right with not knowing. They knew that if Max wanted to talk about it with them, he would. But Daniel was different.

He talked to Daniel about everything. A side effect of the older man having to deal with him as a teammate for those few years when he was so young and trying to really figure himself out. They had developed a different kind of relationship. One where he knew that he could go to Daniel with anything and everything and receive no judgment, only support. Daniel to him was a weird cross of a friend, brother, and father.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes and his hands tighten into fists a little. Always unsure of himself when apologizing. “I should have called. Told you, explained what happened.” He hesitates, but knows that Daniel deserves the truth. “I nearly did.” And wasn’t that the truth. There were many times he nearly called or texted Daniel to tell him about the stunning girl he saw, then met, then nearly kissed, then got together with. But he hadn’t. He knew if he told Daniel, he’d end up telling everyone. Daniel stares at him, face giving away nothing, making him fidget, before he sighs and gives Max a smile. “It’s all good mate. You’re a bit of a cunt. But,” he shrugs, grinning. “You’ve always been like that.” Max lets out a laugh, relaxing at the familiar energy of Daniel. “Yeah, just a bit.”

He turns to look at his girlfriend, who's looking between the two of them with a smile, beckoning her back to his side. Enjoying how she easily fits into his side. “Daniel, this is my girlfriend,” and he knows his voice is lovesick when he says her name with the way Daniel looks at him. “Darling, Daniel.” “It’s nice to meet you, Daniel. Max talks about you a lot.” Daniel’s eyes flicker to Max, expecting some sort of an embarrassment or denial, but the younger man just nods. And that’s good enough for Daniel, who immediately grins at her before pulling her into a hug. “Nice to meet you as well. Max treating you well? I taught him everything he knows.” He tells her with a wink when he releases her. She lets out a small giggle at his words, but nods. “Very well. And thank you for your services.” She winks, making Daniel laugh.

“Oh, you are amazing. Now, tell me how this happened and what happened with Kelly.” He says gesturing between the two of them, sitting on the folding chair in the room, while they sit on the couch. “They are very much connected.” She laughs, before patting Max on the arm and sitting back fully.

“Oh, no.” Max groans, running a hand over his face. Daniel was going to have a fucking laugh. “So, we met a little before the Australian Grand Prix. Nearly had an incident there.” He tilts his head towards her and Daniel nods, understanding what he’s saying. “I actually nearly broke it off there. She managed to stop me however. But when I got home to Monaco, I broke up with Kelly then and there. Was already planning on doing it at the end of the season.” Daniel nods. “You mentioned that before.” “Yeah.” Max sighs, before telling him the rest.

Daniel stares at him for a moment after he's done before shaking his head, with a sort of breathless laugh. “Only you, Max. Only you. I’m happy for you though.” Max smiles at the older man’s easy acceptance. “Thank you.” “PR’s going to kill you for not giving them any warning.” He rolls his eyes, she had been telling him the same thing. “They won’t do anything. Besides, didn't they want me to be more personable?” “Don’t think this is what they meant or had in mind.” She tells him. “Probably hoping you’d vlog. Do what Charles and Lando do.” His nose wrinkles at the idea, making her and Daniel laugh.

—

“You’re good for him.” Daniel murmurs as they watch qualifying. She turns her head a little, still keeping most of her focus on the track. “Think so?” “Know so.” He corrects, taking a moment to flash her a smile. “Max and Kelly,” he sighs. “They had a lot of issues.” She says for him. “Wanted different things or the same things but not at the same time.” “Yeah,” the older man breathes, feeling at ease with how much she knows. “She made him happy at first ya know? But you,” he pauses to shake his head. “You make him into the person I think he would’ve been without Jos. Relaxed, at ease, happy.” His voice is a little quieter with the last word and she has to blink so she doesn’t start to cry. “I want him to be happy. And I know we fell into this fast, but Max.” She sighs, feeling a smile stretch across her lips as her heart flutters in her chest all at his name, at the thought of him. “I was made for him.” Daniel chuckles, taking in the infatuated, lovesick, expression on her face. It was the same look he had seen earlier on Max. It was nice to see that it really did go both ways. “There might be some fuss around it, but it’ll die down eventually.” He hesitates not wanting his next words to seem to much, but thinks fuck it. They went to the extremes here, and she’d have to get used to it fast with Max, if she wasn’t already. “I’ll message a few drivers that I know will support you and Max. We’ll have your guys back with the media or anyone else.” His support and approval make her reach out, squeezing his forearm for a few seconds. “Thank you, Daniel. It means the world to me.”

---

Tagging: @lapb @gemofthenight @peachiicherries