#and the one with the child reading a book on the living room floor with a LION?

[angelfishe]

"𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄"

<< Genshin men x reader >>

Character : diluc, kaeya, ayato, childe and zhongli

You decided to give your baby a fake knife to scare your spouse

Inspired by this << Instagram >>

>> Diluc

When you push them towards your husband's office who was doing important paper work, he immediately looks up hearing the moving wheels of the baby walker and when he saw them holding a knife immediately rush towards them knocking some papers towards the floor and immediately grab the fake knife from their hands

He realizes it's fake due to the plastic like textured and when he looks down and sees his baby adorable eyes and chubby cheeks they were innocent in this grand scheme, and then he saw you snickering behind a pillar he realized he had fallen into one of your pranks.

Immediately scolds you while holding you guys baby in his arms, saying how you made him worried as well making your baby into one of your grand pranks shame on you, unfortunately he's unable to stay angry with you due to your charm and puppy eyes.

>> Kaeya

Was reading a book in the living room, When he heard the sound of you guys baby babbling as well hearing some stubby foot steps walking towards the living room, he looked towards the entrance and saw them holding a knife.

Immediately went "oh shit" and rushed towards them to take the knife away from the child's hands and immediately realized it was a prank, throwing the fake knife towards you but not too hard to cause any harm.

During the night he comes to have a nice chat with you about not doing that again because he almost freaks out but you also get the last laugh about how worried he was as well cursing in front of the baby.

>> Ayato

Nice try to prank him, he already knows it was a fake knife without a second glance. find it amusing thinking you could prank him using your baby as a way to scared him

Immediately went "well, well what do we have here" when you guys baby crawl into his office, "even tho I find this prank amusinh, but unfortunately I'm more intelligent than you think my love" immediately look at you with a smile.

He would let the baby decide your punishment due to you using them as a pawn in the scheme of the prank. the punishment, you kneel on the floor while your baby cluelessly hits you in the head with their plushy while ayato holding them above your head.

>> Childe

When he saw it was holding a knife, launch himself towards them grabbing the knife in quick move. When he realizes it's fake looks at you with a "are you serious" look -_-.

The prank manages to give him a good scare, you are laughing your ass off when he falls for the prank and he looks at you with the are you done look. Immediately went towards your baby and held them saying "how cruel is your mother towards their loveable and handsome husband who is also your father" expecting his baby will gain some sympathy and comfort him giving him some kisses in the cheek.

He finds it funny as well, it manages to give him a small heart attack but he hopes you wouldn't do it again towards him with your baby future siblings.

>> Zhongli

When he was doing the dishes hear the baby walker wheels rolling towards him look at the source of the sound and find his baby holding a fake knife immediately grab the knife from them.

When he realizes it's fake he was glad and immediately held his baby from the baby walker and Carried them with him to find the culprit of this prank ( you 🫵 )

Eventually he found you and gave you a small lecture about the prank, he's not very annoyed by the prank just shock and caught off guard. But after the lecture he actually finds his reaction kinda funny and laughs with you.

[likeabxrdinflight]

I think it's possible that this reading of Elphaba's green skin could get lost in the many possible metaphors that could be applied to it, so I want to talk about the very first way I interpreted her skin when I was just a kid.

I had a horrendous eczema as a child. I was born with it. and I'm talking like, scaly red patches, scabs everywhere, flakes of dead skin that looked like dandruff in my hair, constantly scratching myself and bleeding all over my clothes. It was on my legs, my arms, my skull, even my face. It was especially bad around my eyelids. And nothing treated it. I took pills, I slathered myself in creams and moisturizers, my mom used every hypoallergenic detergent and soap she could find. We had dust mite covers on everything, hard wood floors in my room, I was never allowed to have curtains or too many pillows- didn't matter. The eczema persisted.

Thankfully I've (mostly) grown out of it. But you can imagine school wasn't the most fun place for me as a kid. I heard every possible insult in the book- I've been called every version of reptile you can think of, scabby, scaly, gross, ugly, asked if I had chicken pox or measles, told to "put on some lotion" or "take a shower," stared at, laughed at. Because I went to Catholic school I also heard more than one joke about leprosy. On and on it went. Before I was ever called "queer," I was called "lizard skin."

So I probably don't need to elaborate much more on why I related to this line: "Shouldn't a girl who's so good inside have a matching exterior? And since folks here to an absurd degree seem fixated on your verdigris, would it be all right by you if I de-greenify you? And though of course that's not important to me, 'all right why not,' I'll reply!"

I don't want to take away from the racial reading of Elphaba's skin color. Especially now with her being portrayed by a Black woman in the movie. That reading was always there anyways, but Cynthia certainly brings it more to the forefront. She's obviously pulling from her own lived experiences as a Black woman and being marginalized for the color of her skin and the cultural origins of her family and putting all of those emotions into her portrayal of Elphaba, and it's a beautiful thing. It really, really is, and I felt such empathy for that. It shines through so much in Cynthia's performance, especially in "the wizard and I." But I also don't want to lose this reading of it- the disability or skin disorder or disfigurement lens through which you can interpret her green skin. Because that was how I first related to Elphaba, before even the queer reading- I saw a nerdy girl with glasses being mocked by her classmates for the condition of her skin, and I thought, "she gets it. Someone gets it."

[hot-gothics]

Sleeping Kitties uwu

A follow up request to the "Big Sleeping Meowser" comic~ c:

More Bowuigi content here

[suguann]

✎. he’s nice. well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, simon is an excon, non-linear narrative for future chapters [18+ only]

part one | part two

He’s always been a little obsessed with pretty things, even as a child.

It only makes sense that the habit would follow him into adulthood.

He sees you once while he’s walking by the bus stop. A timid thing wrapped up in an oversized sweater and parka coat, not looking up from the little book in your lap until the bus stops before you and takes you away.

The next time he sees you, he makes sure to come a few minutes earlier, lighting a cigarette and keeping his distance while he watches you read the same book from the day before. Simon knows it’s you, the girl from the letters, even if it’s a big city. It has to be—his pretty, lonely, silly girl.

He thinks about walking up to you just to make sure, but he doesn’t really need to. The address on the envelope brought him here, and you’re the only one he’s seen wearing a university sweater in this neighborhood.

But when he hesitates too long, a boy starts talking to you, and he watches you smile at somebody else.

Simon runs his thumb over his bottom lip and takes a deep breath to fill his chest with the soothing feeling of menthol and the burning taste of nicotine, trying to relax his white-knuckle grip on his steering wheel. 

You’ll learn, he thinks, when the bus drives off, and the boy doesn’t follow you on. He’s a patient man—it’s possibly one of his finer qualities.

He lets his car idle as he climbs out before crushing his cigarette bud underneath his shoe, straightening his black tie, and crossing the street. The boy sees him and freezes, but Simon can only laugh, wiping blood off his cheek several seconds later.

You’ll learn.

He’s nice.

Well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you. But nice, you've learned, can mean any number of things: a nice laugh, a nice house, a nice job, et cetera.

But how he holds himself—tall, broad, and dangerous—hardly screams nice.

It’s funny because you don’t remember seeing him around the office before—the company, including IT, occupies only four floors in the building. 

Someone tells you he’s a friend of a friend. This initially sounds odd until Rose, the office gossip, says he’s someone rich who helps fund the company's social events. Hence, the crisp suit and the wide berth of space you’d give someone who wields their smile like a weapon. 

You quickly look away twice when you find that smile aimed at you, heat traveling up to your hairline at an alarming rate.

It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s not your type. 

“Enjoying the party?” 

You nearly jump out of your skin at the deep voice so close to your ear. Careful not to spill your drink, you turn your head to find him smiling down at you with a sharp curl of his mouth.

Then he’s in front of you, eyes dark and crinkling in the corners.

“Uh, yeah. It’s not bad, though,” you squeak nervously when you realize you haven’t answered him. “It’s different from what I’m used to.”

He raises an amused brow. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He’s intimidating up close, and you take a small sip of your drink to ease your nerves. “Well, no kegs or trashy music playing, and boys with egos bigger than the room.”

The man lets out a low chuckle as he considers your honest reply, and you swear you see something ripple across his features, but when you blink, it’s gone. “I suppose that differs from top-shelf liquor and live bands, huh? Which is better?”

You shrug. “Well, it depends on who you ask.” 

“I’m asking you.”

“Honest answer?” 

He nods. 

“Neither. I don’t really care for parties.”

“Then it’s quite unfortunate that you found yourself at one tonight.” He seems privately amused, in on a joke you have no part of. Then he says, “You want to get out of here?”

“I probably shouldn’t follow a stranger home,” you tell him bashfully.

“That’s very responsible of you. Then how about I get you a drink? There’s a hotel across the street, and the bar’s not shit.”

You bite your lip, and his big, warm hand is on the small of your back before you say anything. It must’ve been written all over your face like he knew you would say yes.

He’s ever the gentleman, unlike most boys your age. Though, perhaps that’s the difference. He isn’t a boy—nothing about him can hardly be described as such. This fact becomes a bit overwhelming and more evident once he has you on your back, thighs nearly up to your ears, and held in place by a firm, intricately tattooed forearm.

His smile—almost too sharp to be nice—makes your chest do this silly thing when he says, “Let’s play a game.” 

You whisper into the night air. “What kind of game?”

“It’s simple. You tell me yes or no.”

Your brows furrow, unsure of the rules of the game. “But—”

The slap against your cunt isn’t harsh, but it’s the suddenness of it, how no one has ever thought to touch you like that, is what makes you squeak and tremble underneath him—the rings on his fingers sharpening the sting—trying to scurry up the bed, but hindered by his iron grip.

“Yes or no?”

“Y-yes.”

“There’s a girl,” and then his fingertips drop down to where you're slippery-wet and sensitive, moving in hard, tight circles until you're clenching down on a curse between your teeth. "Messy little cunt."

It's too much, you think when he plugs two fingers (feeling like three of your own) into your pussy. The muscles in his shoulders roll as he shoves his fingers in and out, batting your hands away when you try to get him to slow down. Too much, too—

“It’s not. I want you to cum like this,” he says, teasing, nudging your clit with his thumb and swirling it in tight spit-slick circles; you have no choice but to chase that bright light feeling until you cum, sticky and sweaty. 

Just like he promised you would, your orgasm is a shivery thing, molten heat, incandescent, settling in your veins until it pours out of you like liquid wax against the scratchy hotel sheets, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, his fingers curl up and press into where you’re soft and tender.

He smiles. “This is fun, isn’t it, love?”

“I can’t,” you whimper, not exactly answering him. “No more, please.”

His eyes, already pupil-fat, go dark at hearing you beg, nostrils flaring. Please, the key for the small amount of mercy he grants you as he replaces his fingers with his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit and lightly sucking it into his mouth. His lips are just there, and then they’re gone.

“Say it again.”

Your response is a wet little hiccup at the back of your throat. “W-what?”

“Beg me.”

“Please.”

“Again,” he says one more time.

“Please, please, please…”

It’s all you can think to say, strung between that dreamy space and reality, that you don’t even notice him flipping you onto your tummy with ease, not until the light in the room is blotted out as he leans over you. He wraps a hand into the scruff of your neck and presses your face into the bed, the other tucked under your hips to keep them at the right angle—held down with nowhere to go.

He leaves biting open-mouthed kisses across your shoulders and the back of your neck—Simon—he manages to tell you his name from one little bruise to the next. Somewhere between the buzz in your ears, you hear him telling you that he wants you to moan it for him, nice and loud.

The haze clears a little, however, at the metal clink of a belt and the sound of a zipper coming undone before you feel his cock prodding you open—raw, without a condom.

“There you go. Lay there, and just—just give me what I fucking want,” Simon rasps as if you could actually move with his hands pinning you in place. 

There are many things you should feel: scared of his words, trapped by the rings digging into tender flesh, by his thighs forcefully pushing yours apart. The red flags look more like flashing lights at this point.

Instead, you feel wanted—your walls tighten around his cock, fluttering, pulling him deeper inside, letting him turn you inside out. A small smile buried into the pillow.

[oukabarsburgblr]

Marriage Troubles [Consort AU] Pt. I

FEATURING : PRINCE DAISUKE YUICHI (OC) x CONSORT male reader

An arranged marriage doesn't always go well. Daisuke Yuichi finds himself engaged to a foreign man for the sake of global peace. What he thought was a well-mannered man was a venomous snake once its shed. Just how long will our prince withstand rebellious remarks from our bold reader?

morally grey reader, angry sex, profile

Find out more under the cut!

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."

Well that wouldn't be far from the truth. The older man dressed in regal clothing wondered why was that famous quote stamped behind the cover of a children's book.

Mimicking the atmosphere of the early morning, the ambience in the room, corners carved stone, marble-plated floor reflected the owner itself. A young child in a loose white gown sat clad in the man's lap. His black glinting eyes skimming through the words of the book that he barely knew half of the meaning to.

"Now now Daisuke, would you like me to continue last night's story or will we have it back at the start?" The man, who had similar black hair and eyes, even their faces were identical, smiled down at the child who enthusiastically flipped the pages back and forth.

The child, Daisuke Yuichi, looked up to him with a gleam. "Start over please, father!" His gummy smile made his father flutter inside as he kissed the crown of his hair.

"As you wish, my child. Long ago, there was a kingdom, grandeur and divine with its posessions, their territory vast and protected, their people happy and full. And the kingdom had a prince!" The man looked down at his son and whispered. "That's you."

Daisuke grinned, as if he hadn't heard this story for the nth time. "And the prince was kind and handsome, well-loved by his king and well-loved by the subjects."

The story continued to weave through its plot, a young prince and his adventures in the kingdom and Daisuke listened attentively to his father's calming narrative voice. It wasn't until the romance had kicked in that he was excited the most.

"And far, far away...there was a princess." Daisuke squealed, covering his face as he wooed over the 2D drawing of a blonde pink-dressed princess on the page. "The princess, amazed by the prince's brave gesture, fell for the prince as she bestowed her hand."

"The prince took her hand, placing a gentle loving kiss on her ring finger, and they went to both kingdoms. With hope to unite their love and their kingdoms together." The man swiped his son's hair back, caressing his strands softly as he turned the last page.

"The prince and princess married and lived happily ever after!"

Daisuke cheered, reading the last printed page as he leaned back onto his father. "Will I find a princess one day?" The man kissed his son's hair again. "I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding a spouse. A fine young man you'll be and with it, a fine young princess will come to be."

The child turned around in his father's hold, the morning light now bright and lightening up the room.

Daisuke smiled to himself, while hugging his father, his heart full of hope and dream to find love too. Love as pure as a swan's feather and as sweet as a birthday cake. Ever since, he yearned for his fated one to unite with him as long years had come to pass by.

-

The room had changed, furnitures replaced with more mature ones, a large regal couch and a marble coffee table in the middle. A big vanity across his bed with bedside table customised with gold and silver, all gifted and bestowed by his father, the emperor of their kingdom.

Fifteen years had passed and the once child had now grown into a fine young man. Said man was adjusting his white cravat with a pin holding a Tourmaline gem at its center.

"What do I have in store for today?" His voice was rich, deep while showcasing the youth he had but the tone mature and intelligent as a scholar.

"His Majesty requests for your audience for morning tea later in half an hour. Then, a few of the ministers will be present in the West Wing. Your Highness will have a chance to confer while on the way to meet the Council's Representative. Lessons are as normal, horse riding with the instructor in the evening and lastly,"

The royal secretary closed his leather book, adjusting his glasses. Two guards were also stationed in the room, an iron plate on their chests with the kingdom's insignia with a few other maids working about and all of them knew what the secretary was about to say.

"Your Highness' meeting with your betrothed."

Silence followed, some of the staffs peeking to see what expression the man was feigning. Daisuke smiled, satisfied with his cravat. "Thank you, Sir Ivan. I'm off to meet my father then." All of them bowed to their waists, as Daisuke walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the halls.

It wasn't a secret that he was recently engaged with another, a foreigner from another kingdom. Not royal but still of high society.

"I sincerely hope you are faring well with the news. If you wish to find another, then I will engage with Emperor Aurelius to form another treaty-"

"All is fine, father." Daisuke smiled, sipping at the cup of tea with the emperor across him sitting in the lounge furniture. His father, the emperor pursed his lips, his face was showing telltale signs of age but he was still strong as the sovereign of the kingdom. His heart worries for his son.

"I'm sure we'll match well together. Regardless of the circumstances." Daisuke had a polite expression, respecting his father and his choices for their reign.

Two kingdoms, from the North East and the West wanted to align with one another. However, due to conflicting politics and past histories, the easiest way for peace is a hand in marriage.

Similar to the East, there was only one heir to the throne in the West so Daisuke, the prince of the North East had to marry a son of the duke. Daisuke had never met nor heard of the man. It wasn't uncommon for emperors to take in male concubines but it wasn't the norm for them to marry a man either.

Daisuke didn't mind the status, he just hoped that his first marriage would go well, unlike his father's and the previous Empress.

Time passed and after congratulations from politicians and acquaintances alike, the time had come for him to meet his fiance. He was again adorned in a royal blue suit with tassels and gems as he stood at the steps of the palace, to greet the arrival of his engaged.

"...I think we should step inside, Your Highness." His loyal knight prodded, unable to see the face Daisuke was expressing. It had been some time and the sun was dimming, signaling nightfall and his fiance and the West delegates were still not showing any signs of approach.

In other words, he had been stood up.

"...Let's." There was a slight irritation in his voice before he recomposed himself, thanking his attendants and his knights for waiting beside him for naught.

Even the dinner that was supposed to be between him and his fiance was cancelled and words reached his ears that the entourage had encroached 'unforeseen circumstances' and will be residing elsewhere other than the palace.

It was disrespectful, arrogant almost to discredit the efforts of the royals, although the secretary had been the one to arranged, but Daisuke ultimately decided to give the benefit of the doubt to his fiance. Even the dinner he that he ate alone, that was supposed to have with his fiance tasted stale. He laid in his bed, his heart beating out of his chest as he thought of meeting his soon-to-be consort.

-

A few days past and not a word from the envoy nor the convoy itself and the emperor was about to send a rescue team to find the missing fiance until the Sapphire Palace were lively and in a ruckus.

Daisuke had simply passed by the Sapphire Palace, a few miles away from the gates and he had seen the insignia of the West Duchy and it was enough for him to notice that his fiance's entourage had arrived.

There was quite a commotion, footmen arguing with each other despite the language barrier and all seemed to be out of hand until the man of the hour himself stepped out of the carriage and began to converse with the royal staff.

"It's him. The one with (h/c) hair. He's your fiance." Ivan whispered to Daisuke, who was burning his eyes into the blurry figure draped in luxurious clothes. Beside him were numerous servants who were holding what appeared to be-

"Are those shopping bags?" Black eyes zeroed in on the multitudes of items that originated from his own country.

His loyal knight beside him chipped in. "Looks like our guest went on a little shopping spree." The prince frowned, thinking that the reason why their arrival was late was that his fiance wanted to go sightseeing.

He held back a retort, still trying to hold some ensemble of peace for their upcoming marriage before the (h/c) turn his back around to lock eyes with Daisuke.

His breath hitched and his heart skipped a beat as he stared into (e/c) eyes, although he was far, no amount of distance could fog the treasure cove of beauty the man behold.

"He's...beautiful..."

The knight beside him raised an eyebrow. "Your Highness?" "Pardon me." Daisuke coughed into a fist as he quickly looked away when a servant whispered into the (h/c)'s ear as they continued to stare at them.

The prince quickly walked away, continuing with his errands before he would be swept away in the alluring pools of (e/c).

Even after indulging in his evening activities, his mind could not rid of the starry (e/c), he hadn't even seen his face up close yet Daisuke was already enthralled.

"Fucking hell..." He cursed to himself, clad in his bathrobe with his face coated with a honey face mask. Tomorrow was doomsday.

The wedding that would unite the two nations. There was no official delegate from the royals of the West although there was enough from the duchy of (l/n) and one of the reason itself that he still hadn't met his fiance face to face was because it was taboo for couples to spend the night before the wedding.

Although it was most likely to prevent premarital pregnancy so he doesn't know how it would work with his groom. Traditions are traditions, it wouldn't harm either party hopefully.

Maybe and just maybe his dream of having a tender-love marriage could still come arise. Although something else had arose underneath his robe.

"..." Daisuke shamefully walked his way to his lavish lavatory.

-

The prince wasn't particularly involved in the preparation of the wedding. His father had offered to let his own royal advisor to arrange the venue and the ceremony itself. Probably as a way to apologise at the fact that he had to drag his son's love life into politics.

Daisuke had only let them be. Chipping in once or twice about the colour scheme, what type of flowers he preferred at the altar and whatnot but overall, he would just walk down the aisle, say yes to the dress and get a move on.

His fiance was most likely not involved as well. Speaking of, he felt his hands getting clammy under the fitted white gloves he wore, oddly nervous of matrimonal ceremony. Will he be a good husband? Will his groom had accepted the fact that they were wedded for politics? This was far in contrast with his fairytale dream.

The venue was already bustling with other royals, aristocrats, upper-crust gentrys sitting in the rows and rows of seating that was behind the closed grand door. Daisuke was standing right before it.

His attire was perfect. Supervised by his own father, he was clad in a commander's full dress uniform, navy hues with tassles, emblems and medals strike across his chest. His black hair slicked back with gel with minimal powder on his face and a little bit of lip tint and blush to bring colour to his pale face.

The most handsome man of the century, was what his father said when he had a private showing with Daisuke. The emperor also mentioned that he had already met the duke's son, his fiance, and only uttered.

"Goodluck, Yuichi. A feisty one, he is."

Daisuke didn't particularly like his teasing tone but brushed it off nonetheless. His secretary was right next to him, checking his attire and whispering to a servant's ear.

"Presenting the son of the Western Duchy, Lord (m/n) (l/n)."

That instantly snapped Daisuke out of his stupor as he turned around, heels clicking on the ceramic floor and he found his breath stolen away once again.

Beautiful was an understatement, the (h/c) himself was majestic to look upon. It should cost jewels for one to even bestow their eyes on the duke's son.

That was the thought that was running through Daisuke's mind when he laid his eyes upon his groom.

A gentle smile on his face that clearly had makeup like his but somehow, his (s/c) skin was glowing even more than his pale counterparts.

Dressed in a white three-piece suit, golden and cream highlights with a notch lapel and a light blue satin puff tie. His pants were a matching white as well, black silky dress shoes with intricates hand-drawn on the red soles.

Across his chest were gold chains from the lapel to his right breast pocket and small gemstones were dangling, a sign of his wealth. He had cufflinks that were the same shade of Daisuke's navy uniform.

His lips were painted with a glossy pink-red tint, matching his undertone and there were a slight edge of eyeliner on the corner of his eyes. Suddenly, Daisuke felt like the makeup he wore wasn't enough.

Finally, the steps came to a halt and his fiance stood right in front of him, craning his neck down to greet the prince.

"Good morning, Your Highness." His voice sounded sultry and alluring, at least to his ears and he had stared at the (h/c) once again until Ivan had coughed loudly bringing him back to reality.

"Good morning, Lord...(l/n)." "(m/n) is just fine." The smile he adorned was appealing and it struck Daisuke in the right places in his chest as he faced the grand doors, the audience behind them suddenly quieting down and he felt a hand slinking to hold onto his arm.

"Let's get married, shall we?"

(m/n) (l/n) looked to him with that polite smile again and Daisuke felt his heart flutter as he nodded in return, leading their intertwined steps together.

The grand doors pushed open and an organ followed, oscillating the wind to the tune of a marriage union. An ensemble of choir sang, bringing a light atmosphere suitable for the wedding of a royal.

The pair walked down the aisle together in slow steps, Daisuke smiling at the guests, mostly familliar faces to his left although he couldn't recognise the ones on his right, (m/n)'s side that filled with foreign ministers from other kingdoms.

"I hope we didn't cause you too much trouble with my late arrival."

(m/n)'s whisper caught him off guard as he slightly peered to his right, the (h/c) still smiling and he whispered back.

"It didn't cause much but I would've hoped for an earlier introduction." He could hear almost a giggle from his groom. "We had some...run-ins."

Daisuke raised an eyebrow at that. "I saw the outlet bags. I suppose our country is fine with riches that you couldn't help yourself?"

It was quiet from the (h/c) and Daisuke felt like the walk to the altar was taking forever until they reached the podium and the officiator bowed to them.

"Dearly beloved, we have all gathered here today..."

"Your kingdom has many intricates our own lacked. I couldn't help but had a few stops." (m/n) hushly retorted, it had an apologetic tone.

Daisuke chuckled at that, suddenly all of his annoyance washed away. "I suppose a proper tour should be in order."

"...Are you not irate, Your Highness?" They both turned facing each other as the ring bearer, Daisuke's third baby cousin stepping forward to hand the small velveted ringboxes.

"I'm not, currently." Daisuke swiftly took (m/n)'s ring out of the box, a 12-carat sapphire and diamond cluster, and gently took the groom's hand and slid it on his ring finger. "As long as you're already here, all goes well for me."

There was a moment of silence from (m/n), who quietly took Daisuke's ring, an Oval Blue Sapphire, 18-carat white diamond cluster, pulled his white glove off and pushed the ring onto his finger, lightly squeezing his hand.

When Daisuke raised his eyes from their now holding hands with ringed fingers, he looked to (m/n)'s face, expecting to see the usual polite smile but there was instead a smirk accompanied with a devilish glint behind those (e/c) that was quickly brushed away with his usual facade.

"I'm glad."

"...What was-"

"Your Royal Highness, Prince Daisuke Yuichi, will you take Lord (m/n) (l/n) to be your lawfully wedded husband." The officiator cut in as he waited for Daisuke to speak who in turn stammered accidentally.

"I-I do." He coughed to himself, slightly embarassed as the old officiator held a reassuring smile.

"And you, Lord (m/n) from the (l/n) Dukedom. Will you take His Highness, Prince Daisuke Yuichi to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"...I do." There was a drag in the first syllable, and he smoothly finished the rest of his testimony that made something curl in Daisuke's stomach.

The prince didn't even notice the priest' next words as (m/n) suddenly leaned in to kiss him by his lips. He quite literally took his breath away, Daisuke sucking in a quick breath before deepening the kiss and pressing his hand into (m/n)'s lower back.

There were cheers, clapping in celebration of the two kingdom's union, at the expense of their own.

Daisuke pulled away and gazed into (e/c). "We're going to have so much fun." He swore he could have heard the (h/c) murmured amongst the applause the audience were imparting. He looked to the crowd, his eyes meeting his father, who was in a grander seat than the rest, nodded slowly at him.

-

The ceremony passed by quick, he had to stand on the grand podium with guests passing by in turn to greet and congratulate the new couple, (m/n) patiently still beside him, linking their arms together. Daisuke would shoot glances but a commonwealth would converse with him every now and then.

Cake-cutting and more public affection and finally were they allowed to retire to the Grand Palace. Although Daisuke had to part from his new consort who waved goodbye at him as they got ready to move into the Emerald Palace. The prince stared at the carriage leaving him and his knights behind.

Both his secretary and his knight congratulating him with his marriage with Ivan reminding him of their private dinner that night.

"I hope you do remember of your meal together that was much delayed." Daisuke nodded, unbuttoning his collar in the rocky carriage. "I do." "As well as your marriage culmination?"

"Culmina-?" "Consummating in other terms."

"..." Oh.

Ivan rolled his eyes at his silly prince whose cheeks turned pink at the heavy reminder.

-

Night has fallen and it seemed another tentative was due. The prince, checked his white loose tucked blouse he had worn along with black slacks that had silver chains pinned on the sides of his waist.

He had came much earlier than suggested, his knight asking whether he was nervous although the prince declined the indication, there was a hint of hesitance in his heart.

The cutlery was laid out on the table decorated with lace and multiple candelabra, lit up just for the occasion. It was a private dinner, just the two of them, supposedly, away from peering eyes and as a moment of intimacy for the newlyweds.

"It seems you're here early, Your Highness."

Daisuke stood from his chair, the wooden foot dragging against the carpeted floor. "Your Grace." (m/n) bowed to his now husband, along with his attendant as the door that was opened for his entry now closed by the guards who stood watch outside.

He was wearing a maroon dressing gown that dragged on the carpeted floor with a striking necklace that fit snugly around his neck.

"I hope I wasn't late, again to our tryst." "A tryst?" (m/n) frowned, pouting. "Does the prince not consider me so?"

Daisuke smiled, feeling abashed as he steeled himself. He walked over behind the (h/c), pulling up a chair and pushed it to the front while (m/n) seated himself. "If you wish." He whispered into the consort's ear before returning into his own.

He could feel a glare burning into the side of his head from the consort as butlers and maids began to serve their four-course meal. Plates and bottles of wine were presented and the servants stood behind the royals for any amendments needed.

The mahogany table was rectangular. (m/n) was sitting on the longer part of it, more to the edge while Daisuke had sat at head of the table. They were close to each other but with enough space to dine. Daisuke had requested so.

"I believed I hadn't met your father yet. I heard of what a great man he was. Was he present during the reception?" Daisuke began the dinner, taking a silver knife and began to cut into the steak on his plate.

(m/n) followed accordingly, opting to drink some of the wine first. "None of my family members were present, Your Highness. They're all booked with their own schedules."

"Oh. I'm sorry that happened." Daisuke cringed to himself, worried that he might've had offended his consort. "No no, it's fine." The (h/c) waved it off.

"I'm sure Your Highness will get to meet them some other time." That polite smile stretched across (m/n)'s face again. That odd expression.

"Please don't refer to me as a prince at all times. We are bound together in matrimony." He called a butler to pour a glass of sparkling water for himself.

(e/c) eyes gazed at the decanting before trailing back to Daisuke's black ones. "...If so, then may I request for us to be truly...private?"

The butler that was serving Daisuke a glass seemed to freeze in hesitation. He looked to his prince for confirmation and Daisuke nodded. The man stepped back, bowed and exited the dinner hall along with the other servants who spoke their greetings and trickled out of the venue in an orderly manner.

Daisuke was about to grab the bottle, to finish pouring his half-full glass before he felt fingers curling around the back of his hand.

"Let me." (m/n) smiled again, stood and delicately poured the beverage into the glass, just enough that it almost spilled over the edge. The prince quirked an eyebrow at the gesture as he carefully took the glass and sipped on the water.

"Thank you, Lord-" "(m/n)." "...(m/n)."

He felt his heart pounding again, like the first time they had met but it was different. It didn't had that nervous beat of meeting a loved one. The butterflies in his stomach wasn't due to excitement, it was like screaming at him that something was wrong-

"Have you never ventured to the West, my prince? I don't think I've ever seen you around any social events." (m/n) slumped back in his seat, poking at his food. Daisuke was a tad confused at the change of demeanour but brushed it off.

"I do travel to the West sometimes but the only events I attended were for militia intents." (e/c) rolled and the consort scoffed. "Politics. How boring."

"...Excuse me?"

It took a moment for (m/n) to stare up at the chandelier above them, responsible for lighting the whole room. He pushed himself to stand and slowly walked over to the switch that had kept it alight.

(m/n) pulled the lever down, instantly darkening the room. Daisuke squinted his eyes, adjusting to the low brightness that was only exhibited by the multiple candelabra.

"That feels much better, doesn't it?"

He almost flinched when he found the (h/c) sitting right beside him, his elbows on the table and his hands cupping his chin. (e/c) eyes peering into his. "...Were you there when they decided on our marriage, Prince Daisuke?"

His tone was off, very off, different than what the prince was used to. "...No. My father had been the one to agree, as proposed by Emperor Aurelius." "...That old geezer."

(m/n) clicked his tongue and reached out to his wine glass, instantly downing almost half of the cup, shocking Daisuke. "He always wanted to get rid of me. So scared, paranoid that I would somehow take over his empire that his ancestors built. Scared that I would seduce his son to give the throne over to me that fucking-"

He paused and smiled back to Daisuke. "So. Princey." (m/n) plucked a grape from a plate and popped it into his mouth. "What do you want from this marriage?"

Daisuke was taken aback, had this been the true nature of the second son of the West Duchy? He hesitated for a moment before retorting. "...What do I want?" "Yes."

A glimmer of hatred flashed across (e/c) who took another swig of the wine. "It is impossible for you to accept the offer without wanting something in return. What's the catch?"

"There is no catch." Daisuke pressed, almost losing his composure at the accusation he was presented. "I'm in the same position as you are, I can guarantee you."

"I truly don't care whether you were present or not when the contract of peace was signed. My...hand in marriage was given away for some..." His (e/c) scanned Daisuke up and down with judgement.

"...man." He smiled, again.

The prince took a deep breath, regaining his maturity as he sighed to himself. "Even if there was some catch, all I ask is peace." He gazed at the consort. "Between us."

"..." The consort looked bored for a moment and it was eating away at Daisuke's patience.

"When do we start?" The prince perked up at the consort's ask. "Start what exactly?" He sipped on his glass.

"The sex."

He spat out what was fresh sparkling water to his left, avoiding the consort who only glared, unimpressed at the coughing prince. "T-That was abrupt." He hit his chest a few times to get the water out of his system.

"...you sound inexperienced."

"I prefer not to reveal myself." (m/n) hummed as he clicked his tongue before he spoke. "I must warn you, though."

Daisuke felt nervous again, his heart rate speeding at the sight of (e/c) burning into his.

"You're not the first man to warm my bed."

-

Muffles of cursing and moans were discernable in the dim dinner hall. The food that was plated now cold, Daisuke having another means in his mouth.

(m/n) was in his lap, hiking up his gown, and sat plush, his legs folded as he continued to enfold the prince's senses with inching thrill, making out with the flustered prince. "Mmnn- hah huff..." Daisuke panted, pulling back and his pants tight with his erection, his back tense against the cushion of the chair and his hands clenching the armrests.

The (h/c) was staring him down, the corner of his lips leaking spit as he licked another stripe up the prince's cheek. "You seem nervous, have you never had an entertainer on you before?"

His mind was hazy and warm, his skin almost burning as he huffed. "Your tongue, you speak my language well." Daisuke didn't know why he asked that. Maybe he needed a distraction other than how (m/n)'s tongue was probably the hottest thing that entered his mouth.

"I studied your culture as soon as I received the announcement. And I had help from a couple of your subjects..." (m/n) purred, smirking. His hands slinked down Daisuke's chest until it reached the strings of his collar.

"But that's not the point now, is it?"

He ripped Daisuke's shirt with his hands, exposing the large chest underneath. The prince stammered, his hands shaky as (m/n) readjusted his position to sit his ass directly on the ravenette's clothed cock.

"Now how does the Prince of the East spend his nights?" He whispered sultrily, trailing his lips across Daisuke's neck. "I don't...typically-"

The prince's words were cut off with a moan. His own moan when the (h/c) began to grind himself on Daisuke's crotch. "Don't lie to me." (m/n) smiled. "Would His Royal Highness like to take it up the ass?"

He pressed a deep kiss to the prince's cheek before gazing deeply into his eyes. "Or does he prefer swinging his hips?" Daisuke pursed his lips together, his heart officially beating out of his chest as his hands finally had the courage to grab on (m/n)'s waist.

"I'm not bottoming." His answer was firm, determined to top. "..." (m/n) only gazed at him with an unimpressed look. "You couldn't even conquer me." The (h/c) whispered.

Suddenly, the grinding became more rough. (m/n) closed his eyes and threw his head back, circling and pressing his bottom down on Daisuke's erection. "F-Fuck mmn!" The prince panicked a bit before tightening his grip as the consort grinded himself down on the ravenette.

"Ahn! Ahh mmnn-" The (h/c)'s moans were loud and elaborate. It confused Daisuke as (m/n) gritted his teeth. He experimentally hovered his lips over the consort's neck. "I'm gonna- I'm going to cu-"

A slap echoed in the small room, shocking Daisuke. He was stunned, a small tingling on his left cheek with (m/n) staring at him unimpressed. "You think I'm that easy to cum?"

The (h/c) glared at the prince, scrutinizing him. "..." Daisuke could only stare in silence, his cheek reddening. "I..."

(m/n) propped his own chin on his left palm. "Hey. Are you actually a virgin?" His tone seemed disappointed, angry even. "I've heard the Prince of the East rejecting advances but I didn't think it'd be this dire. Your face shouldn't be a problem but how so?"

"..." Was this his true colors? Daisuke only wanted a peaceful marriage but all hopes of his fairytale seemed to vanish at the sight of the (h/c).

(m/n) waited for an answer from Daisuke who was hesitant to respond. "I just thought that...your first night should be with someone special." "Oh. You're one of those, huh. A sweetheart."

The (h/c) pried himself off of the prince, staggering in the dim room. "Listen here, prince. I don't care if you want me to carry out my marital duties. But don't bother me nor stand in my way," He trotted to the doors of the dining room.

"And I won't stand in yours."

He kicked the door open, shocking a few guards and left the prince alone. Daisuke stared at the agape door, palming his cheek wondering what the hell did he got into.

Their consummation night was scrapped. Daisuke sitting alone in the bed of their shared bedroom, screaming into the pillow with his still hard erection.

-

Daisuke had never seen his consort after that again. He was officially married but he hadn't seen his husband for the past week.

He had Ivan did some background digging and it turned out the secretary already did but Daisuke himself didn't want to read it just because he thought he didn't need to. Now here he was, hunching over his desk in his office, flipping through the files.

(m/n) (l/n), the infamous second son of the West Dukedom. An older brother to inherit the duchy, a set of parents that was rumoured to proudly spoil their baby son with multiple assets and estates. Occasionally ventures to East for social events. An extremely influential person in the upper-class.

He thought back on how the (h/c) mumbled about the Western Emperor. Looks like their arrangement was rooted much deeper than he had thought.

The prince tried to visit the consort in the Emerald Palace, where all the consorts and concubines of the royal resorted to, for now it was the sole home of (m/n) (l/n). What was once a parade of servants loyal to the prince, was sneaky and deceitful to protect their new master.

"What do you mean, he's unavailable?"

A maid coughed acting dismissive, two others behind her holding in their giggles. "Well, it is exactly what I said, Lord Ivan. His Grace isn't feeling well today."

Daisuke crossed his arms, standing behind his secretary and stared at the tall gates of the Emerald Palace. He tried to enter but was denied.

"If he's not well, has the doctor tend to the consort?" "He's unwell but he is not ill. Some time to himself is what His Grace needs." A guard suddenly chipped in and Ivan just noticed that all of the staff employed in the Emerald Palace was in on the gag.

"Do you wish for me to punish them, Your Highness?" Daisuke's knight, who was one of the commanders that served beside him during his military enlistment whispered to him. "No need." The prince sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

Daisuke knew that (m/n) was influential but to take over the Emerald Palace is not what they both need right now. Every now and then, he'd stop by the Palace but he was left in the dust each time, either he was rejected at the gates or the (h/c) was not present in his chambers.

He paused to himself, wondering why he was trying so hard to harmonize with his consort. His cheeks bloomed a light pink at the memory of the consort on their wedding day. (m/n) truly looked marvelous in his eyes.

Daisuke didn't want his first marriage to turn dull. How can he be the emperor of a nation if he couldn't even save his marriage?

"We received some...reports, Your Highness."

Daisuke looked up to his secretary, who seemed hesitant. They were in the prince's office. "What is it?" "Well...it'd be best if I tell this to you alone." The prince's knight immediately bowed and left the office, closing the doors shut.

The ravenette encouraged the secretary to sit. Ivan looked tired, as he stared into the prince's eyes. "Your consort, His Grace...we received reports of him flirting with some of the guards."

"...flirting?" An irk appeared on his forehead and he could feel mild anger building in the back of his head. How annoying was his consort?

"Yes. From the staffs of the other Palaces, not from the Emerald." "Was it a complaint or a report?" "Reports, Your Highness. The guards themselves have not reached out to me nor to your knight."

"..." Had the guards been bewitched by the (h/c)? Daisuke wondered. He sighed and pulled his cabinet open, taking out an invoice. "What are you proposing, Your Highness?"

"He's in a foreign country, away from his family with only a few familliar faces around him. He's probably throwing a tantrum with his new surroundings. His parents spoiled him with riches and the empire has no problem sponsoring him as well." The prince pulled out a stamp, officiating the new document.

"I'm increasing a total of 30% of his allowance, if he wishes for another shopping spree, then so be it."

Ivan stared at the new invoice Daisuke handed him, hesitantly picking it up. "...I don't think this is the solution." "Then what do you suggest?" "That Your Highness should steer instead of letting him trample all over you?"

The prince deadpanned at his long-known friend slash secretary who coughed into his fist and mumbled an apology. "I'll get this to the Royal Treasury immediately."

The prince had a frown on his face as his Ivan exited the office. Daisuke hadn't even seen (m/n) ever since his dinner, and here he was receiving news he was fooling around with others? Their dynamic was hard for him to tiptoe around.

Maybe the increase in money for the (h/c) would better his behaviour towards the prince.

-

"This is absurd..."

Daisuke stared at the paper in hand. An official request from his consort. He was already surprised that (m/n) was sending a letter his way but to his disappointment, it was a request for a summerhouse???

"Construction of a villa near the borders of the West, fully furnitured, surrounded by a lake with a stampede of workers for maintenance. Functionality...vacation." His knight peered over the crumbling Daisuke in his office chair.

"This...I haven't seen him in a month and the first thing he reaches out to me is a summerhouse. A SUMMERHOUSE???" Daisuke yelled frustratingly as he grabbed a quill and roughly stabbed it into the pot of ink.

"Will you indulge in his request, Your Highness?" "No. I've gifted him jewels and gold with him not even showing me his face and he dared to ask for a villa!" He was more than capable to build a villa by his own means, but a month had passed and the consort was a no-show!

He made his own advances, sending gifts, fineries, he even had a surprise private buffet for the consort ever since he heard (m/n) wished to try some of the Eastern cuisines! Not even a simple thank you from the consort himself. From the consort's attendant, yes and it made the prince curl over in delight but he wished to see the consort either way.

He had to dismiss the consort's request this time. Surely, not much of a fuss would occur.

-

"THE CONSORT IS MISSING!"

Daisuke's attention was snatched from the plate he was dining. He was having his dinner that night when a guard bursted in.

"WHAT??" "His Grace! He's gone missing!"

"How?!" Daisuke's knight stepped in. "Did he went out to town? With no guards??" "No! His schedule is clear for today, His Grace is not in his room and there were makeshift ropes from bedsheets from his windows!"

The prince sat silent for a while before he clenched his teeth. "That brat ran away...call all the knights! Cover a ten-mile perimeter! Close the FUCKING BORDERS and leave no stone unturned!!"

-

(m/n) was humming to himself, carefully guiding his horse on the stone path. The cloak he was wearing was enough to conceal the riches he was wearing underneath, he only wore them because it looked nice anyways.

As soon as the (h/c) received the notice where his request was rejected with no appeal, he ran away. Quite literally, he sneaked out of his bedroom, not even telling his maids he loved to gossip with nor even notifying a single guard.

The palace was starting to feel suffocating anyways. When he had stepped inside, all of the staff was ready to serve him as intended but as soon as he was promoted to a consort, they truly upped their game, treating him like royalty and far better than whatever he received back at the duchy.

Although they were the under the reign of the emperor, all it took was a few small gems and bags of coin to turn the maids over to his side. Then, the knights weren't that bad, Eastern men had their own charm to them and he may have fooled around with one or two, nothing advanced to the bed however.

Humans are easy to dictate over, his father and mother were his first victims of his narcisissm and his brother was kind enough to let him have his way. Socialites were a breeze, as long as you have a tight grip on people, all goes in your favour.

And that's what (m/n) (l/n) did for the past twenty two years of his life. Until the news of his engagement reached the duchy from the royal delegate. His hand in marriage, his freedom was sold to the East for peace between the two nations.

No more drunken nights, no more mingling with sexy men and women. He was forced to settle down quietly. But (m/n) wasn't going to back down without a fight. He was angry his freedom was stolen away from him, and he was going to make whoever his suitor was suffer.

At first, he delayed his arrival to the East Empire. Dragging his attendants to stop by towns, lounging in suites and overall prolonging their time before their arrival.

(m/n) had assumed his future husband was a sleazebag. An old pervert who had never shown his face in parties in the West. It was a nice surprise to find out that he was a kind handsome man on their wedding day.

It was disappointing to find out that he was a virgin pushover.

The prince, Daisuke Yuichi, showed not a single hint of anger towards him. Forgiving him in a second for his arrogance and that immediately gave (m/n) the hint that he could get away with anything as much as possible in the palace.

It was boring as well, if he was commanding at least he would have some fun in the sheets.

And him suddenly increasing his allowance, sending him gifts just showed how submissive this little prince was. (m/n) had him wrapped around his little finger already, he thought.

Yesterday, he had been in contact with a few architects since he wanted a new villa. He had multiple estates in the West but with his sudden moving, he wanted assets in the East as well. And he thought he could get his request approved but he was stunned to find it denied. The consequences were a few broken mirrors and him running away.

He handed the reigns of his horse to a worker, settling in a small town in the rural parts as he entered a lively bar, opting to ask the bartender where he could stay for the night.

(m/n) got a few winks here and there and even some paid drinks, all he did was blow a kiss and chugging them down blissfully as he headed to a moderately-sized inn.

He passed out on the bed, whining about the lack of sex for the past month as he clutched the bottle of vodka in his arms.

The consort had no clear of objective where to embark to. He thought of just journeying along the paths until he reached the borders so he could see where he can built his future villa. A horse and a small satchel with a dream.

The morning after, there was a ruckus in town. He groggily peeked out from the curtains to see guards with the Eastern insignia questioning people, a barrage of carriages and overall military personnel.

"...what the fuck..." He quietly closed the blinds as he recollected the very few items he had brought. Did the prince launch a manhunt??

He didn't think that his search would be this intense but holy fuck he's not intending to get caught like this.

He still wore the previous night's outfit, a linen blue blouse with khakis and carved boots fashioned with a cloak. He felt his heart racing when heavy footsteps tracked down the halls.

There were banging on other doors, inspecting the tenants and (m/n) immediately hid himself in a closet when his room was next.

There were heavy knocking and he held his breath in when the door was kicked open. Some yelling here and there, the (h/c) was just begging for them to leave.

"No sign of the consort!"

FUCK! They WERE looking for him. He bit his nails nervously as the chevaliers left his room to torture some other poor tenants of the inn. His mind scrambled, on what to do in this scenario.

Sure he had made a few attempts at running away before but his brother was the one who had capsized his attempts and he was at least gentle about it. These dogs looked like they wouldn't give a fuck if he lost a finger in the process.

He waited patiently in the dark closet until there were no noises outside of the window as he clambered down from the furniture and dashed out his room.

He hurriedly went to the stables, struggling to pull the ropes off of his horse when his shoulder was grabbed.

"Your Grace?"

"...FUCK-"

-

The guards were tired from an overnight search. Two of them, had been scouting the woods and stumbled across the small town and informed headquarters who sent a squad to do a full sweep.

After it was done, all they had to do was look out for any stragglers and proceed to the next stop. It was their luck to find the hunted man, the consort himself attempting to untie his horse in a rented stable.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU FIND ME?!!"

The (h/c) had struggled, kicking and yelling as they forcefully tied his wrists together, due to him still attempting to flee with some felt rope bound to a wooden pole outside of the stables.

One of the guards only stared unimpressed at the consort's accessories, his bracelets, rows of ring and a small diamond necklace. Who else was the missing husband of the crown prince. It was a miracle he hadn't been robbed.

There was a flustered expression on the (h/c)'s face who seemed to be embarrassed by the attracting crowd of the locals who had careened around to gaze at the infamous capture while he only sat defeated on the dirt floor.

"The next troop should be making their rounds over here, luckily that one should have the Crown Prince leading." "All we have to do is wait." They high-fived each other, standing guard while ignoring the yelling and cursing consort behind them.

It didn't take long for the consort to wear himself out and the next barrage of army to arrive. The prince's personal knight had been the one to came to them first, glancing at the dirty consort and walked over to the grand carriage that obviously carried the prince, opening the carriage.

"Shit shit shit-!" (m/n) cursed at himself, more pumped to free himself from embarrassment and his restraints as he pulled his wrists against the ropes, etching the material into his skin. He hissed in pain but he felt his heart dropped when he saw a familiar mop of black hair walking towards him in silver armour.

"...What is this?"

(e/c) eyes didn't dare to raise upon hearing the seething voice of the once kind prince. "I said what the hell is this?!" Daisuke turned to the two guards who supposedly had caught the consort.

"...It's the consort, Your Highness." The knight responsible for tying him jittered in nervousness, not expecting the aggression. The prince, clad in full armour with a cape, gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching as he snatched the collar of one of the guards. "If you knew he was my husband, then tell me why he's tied up like a stray dog!" He hissed, enraged at the fact (m/n) was on the ground, his wrists tied to a pole like a dirty mutt.

"Untie him immediately!" He threw the guard to the pole by his collar who staggered to cut the ropes. "Two trained knights couldn't restrain an unarmed man?! How stupidly incompetent do you have to be!" Daisuke was yelling, cursing at the guards while the rest of the squad watched.

(m/n) just sat helplessly, silently watching the knights cut through his restraints and he breathed a sigh of relief when his limbs were free from the ropes. Daisuke grabbed his hands, examining the burns as he looked at his consort in the eye.

The (h/c) didn't dare to look at the prince, silently facing to the side as he was pulled up by the arm, Daisuke grabbing him firmly and shoving him into the carriage while the rest of them bowed to the royals.

He was forced to sit beside the prince, his hands clammy and his clothes dirty while Daisuke was staring straight ahead, still fuming regarding the consort. It was painfully awkward until they reached a cabin for the horses and the men to rest, they had been searching for the missing consort overnight.

Once again, the consort was roughly manhandled upstairs into the cabin by Daisuke, while the rest of them camped outside. (m/n) pulled himself away from the prince once they were inside the privacy of the bedroom.

"Give me your hand." Daisuke's voice was firm, on edge and (m/n) silently held out his wrists as the prince took out a bottle of ointment from an emergency kit. Dabbing a cotton pad onto the opening of the bottle and carefully swiping it on the consort's burns.

"You should've been careful. The subjects are not familiar with you. You could've gotten hurt." The incessant rambling was annoying to (m/n) as he huffed. "I was fine. I can take care of myself."

The prince paused, looked up to him with a fierce glare. "You? Take care of yourself? I doubt you can even wield a knife." "I was only out for a stroll. Do I have to be accompanied twenty four-seven just for some fresh air?"

"You were missing for two days! No guards, no attendants! You could've died!" The consort pulled himself away from the prince, annoyed. "I was FINE! I'm still alive, aren't I?? Stop acting so paranoid and just leave me be.

Daisuke stood, now pissed. "Leave you be?? You have been avoiding me ever since our wedding. Rejecting my requests of audience like some arrogant prick!" "Oh I'm so sorry, Your Royal Highness! I should've licked your boots from the moment I arrived." The (h/c) mocked the prince.

"Watch your tone with me." Daisuke seethed, the consort scoffing, crossing his arms. "Or what? I doubt you would punish me for a trivial matter."

"I don't understand your hostility against me. I could've had you hung the moment you slapped me at our dinner." "But you didn't. You let it slide. I've trampled over you numerous times but you didn't give a single damn. It's not my fault the Prince of the East is a feeble PUSHOVER!"

If Daisuke was mad moments ago, he was now absolutely enraged. He stepped to the consort and grabbed him by his jaw. "I said, watch your shitty tone with me." He scowled.

"Or what?" (m/n) smirked. "What will you do, Princey." That stupid name pissed Daisuke off. He grabbed the (h/c)'s arm and tossed him onto the bed, the latter yelping while the prince started to remove his armour.

"I'm aware you've been whoring yourself to the knights. Tell me, have you had such an itch between your legs that you couldn't even keep them closed?" Daisuke felt his face grew hot with anger, tearing off his chest and shoulder plates from his figure, revealing his tight undershirt hugging his body.

"You-...I didn't do anything with them." (m/n) stammered, embarassed that his secrets of flirting with the guards had been leaked. He watched as Daisuke kicked the rest of his armour off of himself. "It's not like I've slept with them, we were just talking-" "It's no use justifying yourself."

The prince suddenly climbed onto the bed as (m/n) clambered away but yelped when the ravenette tugged on his ankle. "I'm furious. You've chosen to fool around with some second-level chavelier instead of seeing your own husband."

"You wouldn't care! Even if I fucked your father, you wouldn't give a single damn-" (m/n)'s head tossed to the side, his cheek burning in pain. He had just been slapped.

The consort looked up to the prince in shock. "You...Even my father has never-" "Well I'm not your fucking daddy, am I?"

Something rose in the (h/c)'s pants, there was a dark look in Daisuke's eyes that sent shivers down the consort's spine. He felt his breath becoming heavy as the prince leaned down to his face.

"If you're to disobey me once again, I'll strip you naked and feed you to the wolves. Do I make myself clear?" Daisuke glared into shaky (e/c) eyes, but he felt something throbbing pressing against his pelvis and he looked down.

He scoffed, unimpressed at the (h/c)'s erection. "Was this what you wanted? Me claiming you from the start? I'm over here furious at your behaviour and your cock is hard?" (m/n) shook his head, flustered. "I just- it's-" He couldn't find the words to defend himself of how he was so turned on getting threatened from his husband.

"It's been a while since I-" "And I haven't gotten a chance to taste you, rascal. To think you've messed around with my knights." (m/n) let out a flustered moan as Daisuke roughly groped his chest.

"Let's see if the peace between our nations was really worth the hassle."

-

There was stuttered moans, whimpers in the small bedroom, (m/n) covering his face with his arms. His body barely covered with his tattered shirt. His pants were tossed to the back with Daisuke lazily twirling the fountain pen he found in one of the cupboards.

The consort's bottom half was propped up with a pillow underneath, his legs dangling on armrests, Daisuke had pulled up a chair near the edge of the bed and slumped himself in it.

Currently, the (h/c) was exposed, his shirt torn in half and his hole twitchy being prodded by the pen in Daisuke's hand. The prince pushed, and swirled it around, stretching his dry rim.

(m/n) mewled, his body hot and he didn't like how he was the only one naked. He was deprived of sex for weeks and it was a pleasure for him to be toyed by the prince, who he thought he didn't even had the balls to pounce on him.

"Uncover your face. I didn't take you to be the shy type." (m/n) choked on his saliva when the pen was thrusted into his ass up to its hilt and his hips squirmed, uncomfortable and tingling from the length. "I-It's too dry- Mmnn! It hurts- anghh!"

"Oh nowww you're listening to me. When I finally put something in your ass is the moment you decided to stop being a brat." (m/n) couldn't see Daisuke's expression right now, if he did he bet he could squirt in seconds.

A firm grip on his cock made him mewl again, a throaty cry leaving his wet lips. "I said...uncover your face." The consort's heart was beating out of his chest as he slowly placed his arms to the side.

Daisuke felt amused, (e/c) teary, a flustered aroused expression on the consort's face. Far different than the defiant side he had faced all this time. He could feel his own cock throbbing in his pants.

He pressed the pen in deeper, (m/n) gargling and groaning in response. "D-Daisuke-" "Be formal. Respect me as your prince."

The (h/c) frowned, frustrated. "Your Highness..." He peeked up at the prince whose face was red, flushed with arousal and amusement.

"Good boy."

His cock spurted short ropes of cum in Daisuke's hand, the owner himself staring at his wet genital in shock. "H-How did I...?" Even the consort himself was confused how could he, a man who had slept with an abundant men and women previously, came extremely quick at the hands of the Eastern prince who had yet to shed a single garment.

"So you are a slut." Daisuke's tone was mundane. As if he was bored, unimpressed. (m/n)'s eyebrows were furrowed, his teeth clenching as he stared at his cock being slowly jacked off by the ravenette.

"I just c-came- wait wait!" He held in a breath as he endured his coming down from an orgasm with Daisuke fapping his cock agonizingly in slow but firm strokes. "Am I supposed to care?" The prince spoke with an arrogant tone.

The consort whined, his hips bucking and he clenched around the pen in his anus. His ass flinched when the prince took a glass decanter and pour the liquid inside down his cock, flowing down his base, slipping on the curve of his balls and coating the exposed pen and his clenching rim.

"Wh-What was that?" He panicked, his nether region feeling unusually hot. "You said you were dry." Daisuke brushed off the consort's worries, pulling out the pen and stuck his bare fingers inside, massaging his rim.

His fingertips dug into his hole, caressing his squelching walls, Daisuke observing (m/n)'s reaction who became more and more flustered. His hand that was gripping (m/n)'s cock went to flick his nipples, the consort cried out in shock.

The (h/c) bit his bottom lip, his eyes drowsy as he felt his body becoming more hot. He arched his back as he clambered to remove the remains of his torn shirt.

"Feeling warm?" (m/n) nodded to the prince's question, propping his hands up to support his body while getting his ass fingered by the prince. "What was in that decanter?" He moaned out.

"Emergency supplies. Used for wounds and cramps, I suppose its a fine substitute for a quick lube job." The (h/c) groaned in frustration, whimpering in hot discomfort. His previous partners had never been sloppy with him, only using expensive products and treating him like glass.

The prince, who sensed that the consort was complaining in his head yet again, grabbed his neck and brought him to his face. "Be grateful that I'm prepping you. Any man as angry as I am would've torn you apart by now. A 'thank you' would suffice."

(m/n) choked, still denying until Daisuke's fingers suddenly jammed roughly into his hole, two knuckles deep. "T-Thank you, Your Highness..." He whimpered.

Daisuke finally got the appreciation he wanted. He licked a stripe up (m/n)'s cheek, his fingers clenching the (h/c)'s jaw. Pressing a deep kiss into his cheek, he whispered into the consort's ear. "Now that's sensible."

(m/n) suddenly felt pissed off.

"I'll spit in your face if you don't back up." He snarled at the prince. Daisuke only rolled his eyes. "Tell your cock to stop leaking pre, then I'll release you." (m/n) groaned, still hating that he was the only one naked.

"Take off your clothes. It's not fair I'm the only one stripped." Sighing, the prince released his grips and took out his fingers. (m/n) squirming at the empty feeling left in his hole as the prince stood, kicking the chair away.

"Undress me." He ordered the consort. The (h/c) frowned but kneeled on the mattress nonetheless, climbing over the pillow as he roughly tugged off the prince's shirt, resisting the urge to punch his glaring face.

He pulled the belt off of his waist but when it came to his pants, (m/n) leaned his body down and used his teeth, pushing the button through the slit using his tongue and ripped the rest of the waistband halfway with his teeth. The prince groaned, stroking his (s/c) bare back.

The consort's body was pushed down, (m/n) knocked onto the bed in his back as Daisuke pulled his thighs forward, hiking his legs onto his shoulder. His bottom was propped once again by the pillow.

"Make sure not to cum so quick." (m/n) smirked, alluding to the fact that Daisuke was a virgin. The prince pulled out his cock...his big, big cock and scoffed.

"Confide that to yourself."

(m/n) accidentally bit his tongue when Daisuke pulled his hips back, slapping his ass against his naked groin. He felt heat bloom in his stomach, instantly full in his hole. "A-ahh mmh ahh-" He whimpered, staring up at the ceiling in debauched shock.

His thighs quivered as the prince had a bruising grip on his waist, pushing him back before slamming his cock inside again. A short scream dwelled from his throat as he felt his ass pierced.

The (h/c)'s nails dug into the cotton sheets below him as he endured blows from the prince who began to rut his cock roughly into his strained ass. He almost screeched at the sheer intensity of his thrusts the ravenette bestowed, the heat curling in his stomach once again.

Daisuke had been angry. Angry ever since that stupid dinner. But he was raised to be fair, to be just so he put himself in (m/n)'s shoes but all the disrespect, the arrogance the consort protrude hacks away at his patience.

He tried to be loving, giving the (h/c) space but all he received was spats of degrading and defiant remarks. All of those resentment began to pile in the back of his mind and eventually burst when he received the news of the consort fleeing from the palace.

He was angry that the consort put himself in danger, he was also enraged on how the man even flirted with others while leaving his husband in the dark.

It all lead to this moment, him fucking his mountain of vexation into the squirming melting (h/c).

"Haa- anhh!" Another spout of creamy semen splurted from the tip of (m/n)'s dick, slipping down and dripping onto his own stomach.

Daisuke could see the confusion and frustration etched on the consort's face. He held in a sly laugh as he bend his body down, pressing his head next to the consort's.

"Don't jinx yourself, quickshot." He teased the (h/c). The latter smacked his back to which Daisuke quickly humping his dick into the squelching hole, chasing his high.

"Wait wait! Not inside-!" He breathed a long sigh of relief, cumming long ropes of baby batter in the consort's hole.

(m/n) squirmed, feeling sticky as he tried to push the prince off. "You bitch. You cunt, I told you not to cum in me-!" He hissed.

It was a little secret he hold to himself, the (h/c) loooves people cumming inside of him but he wouldn't dare show it to the prince. However, Daisuke seemed to read his mind, apart from his still hard and twitching cock, he moved the consort to lay on his side.

"I'm not done. You have a month's worth of payback, consort." Daisuke spat on the (h/c)'s stomach who showed clear disgust and disapproval. "You shitty bitch." He scowled. A strangled gasp left his throat when the prince curled his hand around his neck, moving him up and down, choking him with his grip and his cock.

The more feisty the (h/c) was, the rougher his thrusts gotten, Daisuke gripped the consort's wrist with his other free hand, leaving him to claw at the sheets with only one, limiting (m/n) to ground himself who was squirming, going cockdrunk on his penis.

(m/n) was confused, scared why he was so turned on by the prince and his rough treatment. He couldn't stop cumming so many times on the prince's cock and the prince kept nutting inside of him despite his pleas not to do so.

His left leg was hooked on Daisuke's shoulder as he was pounded sideways, at one point he had came twice during one round, the prince degrading and slapping his ass for his whorish achievement.

Clenching around Daisuke, (m/n)'s thighs shook, his head fuzzy and eyes glossy with tears. The (h/c) dug his nails into Daisuke's strong arms, who had planted his hands beside his head.

How much fucking stamina did this monster had? (m/n) whined, wishing for the prince to finish already.

It wasn't until the seventh round that he started to cry.

At that point, his stomach was covered with a layer of cum and spit. His cheeks were hot with flowing tears, begging the prince to just hurry and cum inside him already.

"I c-can't anymore- mmf! Please- hurry up- hngg!" He sobbed, streaks of teardrops on his face. The prince only stared down at him with a detached expression, as if his body was boring to him. "I'll stop when I feel like it."

He screamed when Daisuke clenched his tip. "Maybe you should stop creaming so many times." (m/n) wailed another cry, pushing the prince's chest away as he somehow adjusted his body, rotating himself so he was lying on his stomach.

It appeared that would prompt the prince more who began groping and massaging his ass, slapping it once and twice while still shoving his cock in and out of his hole.

(m/n) drooled onto the sheets, his dick shoved and dragged against the duvet. His eyes widened as he got a glimpse of his state.

There was an old oval mirror, the top half covered with a linen sheet but the bottom was bare, reflecting (m/n)'s current position in the dim room.

He looked at himself and he couldn't recognise who he was. The once proud, bratty son of a duke was a mere dirty, squelching, crying, cum-filled hole under the prince. Daisuke was still going strong, gripping his butt cheek and ramming himself into his dripping hole. He couldn't believe that the man above him was a virgin.

Maybe he was wrong. Angering and pouring fuel onto the calm and kind prince, he thought he could take advantage of. Fooling around, refusing to grant him audience despite having the position as his husband. And to think of all the gifts the prince had given him as a means of peace, he either tossed aside or used for his own pleasure while brushing off his efforts.

Daisuke leaned down onto him, (m/n) tiredly watching him through the reflection on the mirror and he screamed when the prince planted his teeth into his nape, biting into his skin. He mewled, squirting hot semen onto the sheets again, as Daisuke claimed him by biting his neck like a wild animal.

"I-I..." His voice was weak, throat sore from moaning and crying so much. "M' sorry." He could feel the prince's thrusts slowing down before coming to a stop. The prince released him from his bite, he was sure there had to be bits of blood from the mark.

"What?" His tone sounded confused, as if (m/n) was the most arrogant bitch he ever met that even an apology sounded like he heard the singing of an angel.

"I'm sorry...for what I did...for all this time..." He muttered in broken words, his face sweaty and his mouth slobbered with spit. The consort mumbled more apologies, of what he did, for slapping him, for dismissing his audience, flirting with other men.

"..." Daisuke seemed to be quiet before he pulled out of the consort. (m/n) cried when his hair was pulled up as he was forced to his knees. His hands gripping at Daisuke's who clenched his grip on his scalp. "If I catch you wagging your tail around other men again, I'll sell you to a brothel. Do you understand?"

The consort weakly nodded, inching closer to the hard and wet cock that laid against his ass crack. It seemed that Daisuke had also noticed the mirror, the prince's eyes wide glaring at him through the reflection.

"I-I won't. I just want your cock. O-Only yours- mmn!" He bit his bottom lip, when the prince grinded himself against the (h/c)'s sensitive and stinging ass. "I'm sorry."

(m/n) had realised that this was a battle. A battle of their opposite attributes. As if the striking lightning and the ear-shattering thunder clashed with Daisuke coming out on top. And he had lost in the waves of their disputing dynamic.

He submitted himself to the prince, finally lowering his ego.

"Put it in." He breathed out, glancing behind him, his teary (e/c) eyes striking the prince right in the chest.

Daisuke seemed taken aback, his grip faltering before he gently pulled the consort back so he could rest on his chest. They were both on their knees, (m/n) breathing slowly, his body lax against Daisuke's as he rested his head beside's Daisuke's jaw.

He could feel semen dripping out of his hole as the prince carefully held his hips, avoiding the dents in his waist from his fingers as he angled his tip to kiss his hole.

(m/n) sucked in a breath, Daisuke slowly shuffling his cock inside his ass, contrast to how they first started.

His body was bounced on his dick, the prince moving him using his hips and he moaned loudly, throwing his head back. Daisuke stared at him, his eyes half-lidded as he gently prodded his nose onto the consort's cheek.

The innocent touching lead the prince hovering above his lips. Daisuke delicately pressed a kiss onto the consort, who accepted the gesture fondly as the innocent affection turned into tongue-tying lust. They were making out while (m/n)'s bouncing and Daisuke's thrusting became more fervent, chasing their orgasm together.

(m/n) mewled loudly into the prince's mouth, Daisuke immediately sucking on his bottom lip as the (h/c) came. The prince groped his chest, and fondled his sensitive cock while his staggering hips was rutting up into the consort as he creamed inside one last time.

Slowly, they both fell on their sides, (m/n) unable to move, his body immobile. Daisuke gently pulled out, breathing heavily from what was the first and best sex of his life.

-

He woke up alone.

The prince groggily sat up, his bottom half numb as he forced himself to open his eyes. Morning rays of sunlight entered the room through the curtains and he stretched his torso like a cat before turning to his right.

His heart dropped as he noticed no signs of the consort, finally remembering what happened the evening before as he clambered to slip on a robe and was about to trudge downstairs before he noticed the bathroom door was slightly open and the running of tap water.

Carefully, he creaked the door open, peaking inside to find the (h/c) submerged in the wooden bathtub, quietly washing himself.

(m/n) perked up when he noticed the prince opening the door. "Your Highness..." It seemed that the (h/c) had woken up earlier than the ravenette, opting to wash himself first.

Daisuke staggered, his legs still weak. "...I'm sorry, I fell asleep. I couldn't clean you-" "It's fine." (m/n) assured the prince, before looking away and closing the tap water.

There was something different about the (h/c), Daisuke noticed. He seemed more fragile? More delicate. Well, it was the first time he wasn't shouting to his face.

He was still standing in the middle of the loo awkwardly before they both spoke at the same time.

"Would you like to join me?" "May I join you?"

Both of them seemed taken aback at the coincidence, Daisuke more flustered as (m/n) nudged his head as an offer to join him. The prince disrobed himself, (m/n) looking away as Daisuke carefully stepped inside the already small tub.

The tub was small, cramp even to fit the both of them. The (h/c) hugging his legs, his chin on his knees as he mindlessly splashed the water around him.

Daisuke was staring, his eyes gazing over (s/c) skin, his shoulders, his wet hair. His mundane expression is what drawn him in. Half-lidded eyes staring at the water, fingers gently poking at the surface tension. It wasn't bad. It was peaceful.

"...I'm going to wash myself now."

(m/n)'s voice broke him out of his trance, the consort staring back at him and Daisuke noticed that the tub of liquid soap on the cabinet behind him.

"...Would you like me to help?" "It would be nice."

(m/n)'s voice sounded very fond, melodic almost as Daisuke began to lather the soap and scrub it into (h/c) strands, smoothing it over his skin gently. The consort did the same for the prince and at the moment Daisuke truly felt like they were acting as a married couple.

His heart felt full and when (m/n) turned his body around, Daisuke suddenly went forward to hug his back. His arms enveloping around the consort's figure, the latter who was about to step out was restricted as he glanced at the ravenette.

"Sorry...just give me a few minutes." He mumbled, planting his face into the consort's shoulders. Daisuke could feel the (h/c) sighing and leaning into his touch, and they stayed there.

The prince kissed the marks he left last night, where he had animalistically sank his teeth into the consort. His lips gently traced his teeth marks, as if to apologise to the consort. (m/n) only leaned into his touch further, letting the ravenette express his affection. They stayed for a while, until the water turned murky and their fingertips were wrinkly.

When (m/n) was about to exit the tub, he heaved himself up but his hold slipped in the process, his lower half clearly more immobile from the previous evening and Daisuke cutting in to make sure he doesn't fall.

The prince stepped out first, tied a towel around himself and laying out another on a spare table. He reached into the tub to cradle the (h/c) and pulled him out of the tub. The water splashing out from the edges.

"You don't have to-" "It's only decent if I do." He stopped the (h/c) from refusing him any longer. And it had an impact on the consort.

(m/n) was carried by the prince into the bedroom and was gently placed on the clean side of the bed. Daisuke asking an attendant for two sets of clean clothes and when it arrived, he helped his husband dress before they headed downstairs for breakfast.

They dined together, and Daisuke thought it would be awkward or maybe a pitiful attempt at small talk but (m/n) was quiet. Nimbly chewing at his Danish ice cream toast, and the prince followed suit, basking in the peaceful atmosphere.

Some of the guards peeked at the pair, expecting Daisuke to yell at him or the consort to rebel since they heard the rumours of them not getting along backed up by their public arguments but they found the two to be surprisingly civil with each other. Daisuke opening the carriage for (m/n) and holding his hand when the consort stepped in as they continued their journey back to the palace.

The prince kept shooting glances at the consort, who only stared out at the window of his side, keeping to himself.

When Daisuke asked him if anything was wrong, all (m/n) did was shook his head and replying in a polite manner.

The ravenette thought he broke his consort, all up until they arrived at the palace. (m/n)'s maids wailed in relief at the sight of him as they hurriedly tended to the consort, who still maintained his monotone expression.

Daisuke wiped his face in agony as Ivan asked what the hell had happened.

"I think...I was too rough on him..."

The secretary irked and ushered the prince into the throne hall to report to the emperor.

-

"How embarassing..."

(m/n) mumbled to himself, pulling at a soft handkerchief as the servants presented him a large treasure chest.

"It is a present from His Highness for you, Your Grace." The butler announced, opening the chest, revealing an abundance of shiny gold coins with jewels and gems scattered about. His maids behind him had their eyes shining, drooling over the treasure.

It had been a day since he returned from his escape. All he did was recuperate in his room from his tranquil state and he had slept early that evening so when the prince asked for dinner together, he didn't get to accept.

He felt like he made peace with his circumstances, with his arranged marriage, although he did felt abashed regarding the whole 'running away' incident. The consort plucked the card on top of the mountain of coins.

"For the villa..." He mumbled the words written on the card. "This prick." (m/n) rubbed his forehead as he turned to his maids.

"Help me get dressed. I'm paying a visit to my husband."

-

Daisuke was frustrated. There were some troubles stirring up at the Western borders and there were complications were the ministers refuse to cooperate to handle the increase in thugs and crime.

He was fast at writing down letters and signing documents but his mind wandered to his consort. There was his guilty conscience, screaming at him of why he treated his husband so roughly on their first night together.

A piece of himself tried to justify while the rest of him only felt remorse and thought they were back at square one when the consort didn't respond to his invitation for last night's dinner. He perked up when his door was pushed open.

-

(m/n) could hear gasps and whispers from the servants, he rolled his eyes and glared at a few of them who immediately scuttled away as he trotted past them. Ivan was behind him, he himself was taken aback when he requested to see Daisuke as he led him to the prince's office.

The guards bowed to him as they pushed the door open, revealing a shocked ravenette who had his mouth wide open in shock.

"(m/n)...I mean, Lord (m/n)! What are you doing here-" "Was this supposed to be compensation?"

Daisuke squinted his eyes at the card (m/n) was holding. The one he sent along with the treasure chest. "Compensation?" "Was this compensation for my body?"

Immediately, Ivan excused himself, shutting the doors close. Daisuke stood to defend himself. "What- no! It's for the villa. It's what you wanted, right?" (m/n) glared at the card before crushing it in his grip. "It felt like you only sent it because we slept together, Your Highness."

"I-" The prince sighed. "Look, I'm not in the mood to argue today. Can we just not do this?" He groaned, sitting back in his chair, going over the papers again. (m/n) stared at him before his eyes trailed to the rest of the interior.

Picture frames, bookshelves, even a lounge couch and a coffee table in burgundy and brown accents. He walked around the office, trailing his fingers over the decoration. "Do you stay in here often, Your Highness?"

Daisuke eyed the consort, his fingers massaging his forehead. "...I do. It's my office, I do all my paperwork here." (m/n) hummed, as he placed back a book he had pulled out, not fully understanding the writing.

"...I see that you're in distress, Your Highness. More than usual today." Daisuke wasn't sure if that was a jab at how heated he gets during their arguments or out of genuine concern. "...There's some trouble at the borders. The West is not cooperating currently. I'll have to refer to my father for this matter."

(m/n) leaned on the table, his palm close to Daisuke's hand as the consort kneeled down in front of the prince, pushing him and his chair back. "What are you doing?!" Daisuke had a clear blush on his face, his face abashed and (m/n) could already see the rising tent in his pants.

"...the sex yesterday was nice. It was really nice." "...Oh..." And here the prince was worried he was too malicious with the consort. "Usually, I'd prefer some physical aftercare." "Physical?" "Just...holding me would be nice."

(m/n) swiped or tied his hair back. "But it seemed that you are in need of a different type of care, Your Highness." Daisuke's eyes widened as the (h/c) tugged his zipper down.

He was jitterish, his fingers shaky as the consort gave him the best head he ever had. The first one, in fact and (m/n) left him in his office in a fucked out state, wiping his mouth.

His personal guard peeked inside to see Daisuke drooling on his desk, his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Ever since then, the consort had frequent visits to the Grand Palace where Daisuke resided. He would often lounge in his office while the prince worked and Daisuke really favoured this new outcome.

They would banter every now and then but it wouldn't turn into a full-blown argument and he was grateful for that on its own. Meals were shared and they would go on walks in the garden together, he found out the (h/c) preferred the greenhouse the most.

They even went on a date! A tour of the capital like Daisuke had promised on their wedding day although he couldn't deny he was a bit jealous when (m/n) revealed some of the places he brought the (h/c) to had been visited by him and his guards.

Speaking of, Daisuke replaced all of the knights that had previously attended to the consort, switching out with older and more loyal guards, some of them returning from wars. The prince just wanted to make sure (m/n) had no paladdins he would be attracted to.

"You can always claim me again." The (h/c) bit the ravenette's ear when Daisuke told him of the new rearrangement. Cue to them fucking like rabbits in the library, knights were scarred as they stood guard outside.

It also seemed that the prince was slowly introduced to public affection. (m/n) touching him fondly or even teasingly in open places. He wasn't used to this but he was slowly adapting. He was also very pleased when he received no more reports of the (h/c) fooling around with other men, maybe his faux warning worked a bit too well.

Although the consort had been acting a bit too bold lately.

"What do you mean I can't enter?! He's my husband!"

Daisuke quickly diffused the situation, fetching (m/n) who was outside of his chambers, arguing with some of the guards who had refused his entry due to him occupied in the bath.

"Next time, let him pass freely." He whispered to one of the paladdins as (m/n) slumped on Daisuke's bed, noting the immediate sinking the mattress had. He propped himself up sideways while the maids helped the prince tidy himself up after his bath.

The (h/c) frowned, seeing the ravenette exposed around others, with water droplets dripping down his muscles, his bathrobe giving a window to his chest, and the fluffy robe was NOT hiding the fact that he had a huge dick.

"How long are they going to be here?"

As soon as those words escaped the consort's lips, half of the maids present froze, hesitating to continue with their chores as Daisuke turned to his husband.

"Do you prefer I use butlers instead?" He offered to switch, he didn't want (m/n) to have any discomfort of him being bare around the opposite sex.

"...No." "...Then is there a problem?"

(m/n) had been lying on his stomach, swinging his legs playfully before he rolled himself over on his back. "It's best if they weren't in the room for now." He purred, looking at Daisuke dead in the eyes as he teasingly spread his legs.

"Oh." The prince slapped himself in the face, letting his palm stay on his cheek as he sat there in growing arousal. "Leave."

The servants followed as they're told and the prince raised his face when the door clicked shut. "You ought to stop being so bold, Lord (m/n)." He groaned, although stripping himself and climbing over the (h/c).

"Just (m/n) is fine." The consort purred, wrapping his arms around the prince's neck, swiping his tongue on his lips together.

The longer Daisuke was around (m/n), the more he realised how much of a vixen he had in his arms. The (h/c) was so experienced and demanding in bed, intentionally moaning loudly about how big his cock is just so he could embarrass Daisuke although the prince was more than happy to indulge into his carnal desires.

The prince stared up at the ceiling, the room was dark, curtains shut closed, his plans to venture out to the ministry cancelled, he laid in his bed next to the similarly naked consort.

In his mind, he thought back to his childhood dreams, of owning a fairytale love story.

"What are you thinking of?"

He glanced to his left to see (m/n) on his side, staring at the prince while pulling up the blanket up to his chest. "Nothing, really." "Liar, you were really deep in thought."

"..." Daisuke contemplated whether he should reveal his childish dreams. "...When I was a kid, my father would tell me stories. Storybooks, of prince and princesses. And I thought that maybe one day, I get to have my own fairy tale too."

The consort next to him was quiet, although he didn't see his expression, still staring up to his painted ceiling.

"And I just thought of the present."

There were some rustling and the consort placed his head directly next to his, touching shoulders. (m/n) was frowning, his arm reaching to hug Daisuke at his waist. "I mean, life changes doesn't it? The fact that we're even tolerating each other is something we should be thankful for."

"That is true." "You're still in fret. Did you not get the happy ending you desired?"

The prince actually gave some thought into it. A stupid decision, and it hurt the consort. "It was not the one that I expected but I'm satisfied regardless."

"...Good to know..."

Daisuke felt the consort pull back and faced his body away from him. The prince pondered for a moment at the sudden change in behaviour. He wordlessly went up behind the (h/c), pulled him close, his chest to (m/n)'s back and silently went to sleep, unaware of the brewing storm thundering in the consort's mind.

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

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DEAREST HUSBAND [PART II]

ROYALLY FUCKED [PART III]

Afterthoughts...

Daisuke and (m/n) after discovering hate sex:

Surprise! This will be a three-part installment. I forgot how much I loveee writing historical fiction and i just had so many ideas i couldnt fit them into one!

I really did try to aim how the reader isnt completely in the right although he is somewhat justified (will be further explored). Theres some clashing where Daisuke Yuichi is canonically Japanese but the aesthetic here is European-based so please forgive my inaccuracy this one time. I thought of involving interracial marriage but i didnt want to overcomplicate things.

If you read the part where Daisuke asked how (m/n)'s language was good, it hinted that one of the other reason our reader arrived late to the palace was him sleeping around with men of the East.

And yeah, the ending part. Daisuke lowkey in the wrong. I would be so offended if my husband said that, idc if arranged or not.

Ill release the second chapter if i like how the audience receives this one! (As in if u guys like it or not haha) im very hoping to find a beta reader btw. Stay tuned!

Taglist:

@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @simpsations @sugar-p0p @kiiyoooo @helloanime @garlicforthewin @jaxyy219 @mikahrh @gayaristocrat @m4r13ll @pinxeajin @gyarukitti @syyyy4ever

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Unconsummated -Aemond T.

Aemond finds himself quickly falling in love during the week long celebration of Aegon and Helaena’s wedding. Sadly his perfect lady is already married to a Baratheon. Happily, the idiot has yet to consummate their marriage as he never wanted to marry Y/n Arryn in the first place.

Aemond sets out to take the sweet girl for himself and he will not take ‘No’ for an answer…

It was much too loud for her tastes.

Y/n’s husband lived for parties like this, being honored that he was invited to the wedding of Aegon and Helaena and enjoying himself in every way he could. He was drunk 10 minutes after the ceremony and would be for the entirety of the next 6 days that the week long party went on for.

Y/n left the room as soon as it was acceptable for her to do so, her husband being locked on another noble woman, one who would happily spread her legs for him in a dark hallway later that night and she could do without the embarrassment of that. She ended up locating the library on her walk through the castle and she couldn’t help but stop. The room was huge, 10x the size of her husbands library as his father, his fathers father and on and on before had never been able to read (and neither could her husband).

He forced her to read all of his ravens to him in private as if he believed that no one was aware that he couldn’t read them himself. Y/n ended up knowing quite a lot about the houses and their leaders, her husband threatening to kill her if she ever breathed a private word of it. She was privy to quite a bit of sensitive information because of his illiteracy, knowing that many houses had secretly sworn to follow Aegon as the true born King or people like her husband who were sworn to Rhaenyra as the King commanded. She honestly didn’t care who ran the realm, all Y/n cared about was her small life, her duties, and her children (of which her husband didn’t seem to care to give her). He was too busy with his whores to give her a child.

She found herself a book that interested her, it was a book on High Valyrian which she had always wanted to learn. She had been teaching herself for only about 20 minutes before she heard a throat clear and she jumped up in fear, the book landing on the floor as her eyes met with one purple one staring back at her.

‘My Prince! I am so sorry! I did not know anyone would be here while the celebration went on…’

He stared at her for a moment before responding. ‘No reason to apologize, I understand more than anyone not wanting to celebrate with drunken strangers.’

‘Thank you for your hospitality…I will leave you be then-‘

‘No!’ He insisted, startling her a bit. ‘I’m sorry, I mean no, you don’t need to leave. Please, sit.’ He moved to take the seat beside her, picking up her book and looking at it before smiling. ‘Teaching yourself High Valyrian? Impressive…I am Aemond by the way, might I know my beautiful company’s name?’

‘Y/n Baratheon, my Prince. It is an honor.’

The two of them spent the next 3 hours by the fire in the Library just talking. They got to know each other very well and Aemond even gave her her first lesson in High Valyrian which he admitted she was a quick study at. It wasn’t until Aemond asked about her family that any of their conversation became uncomfortable.

‘You’re married to the eldest Baratheon son, are you not? I knew he had a wife but I did not know he had brought her with him while he-’ Aemond stopped himself as if he was unsure if she knew what her husband was up to.

‘I am aware of his indiscretions. It is how he has always been, nothing to concern yourself with my Prince.’ Aemond’s face was stoic as always but she sensed sympathy like she got from most other people. ‘He never wanted to marry me, his father wanted my name and the alliance of certain supporters. He had hoped marrying me to his son would stop his…activities and make him happy to have a family…he has no interest in such things however and I am left 6 months after our marriage unloved and childless…I’m sorry…you don’t care about that.’ She laughed though Aemond could tell it was hollow.

‘Your husband is an idiot if he does not want you my lady. I have known you for mere hours and I know that you are a smart, kind hearted girl without a judgmental bone in your body. You would be a good mother, of that I am sure.’ Aemond had no clue where that came from. Seeing this girl all alone and feeling unloved was breaking his heart…what is she doing to him?

‘Thank you my Prince, you are too kind.’

Y/n retired not long after, in bed hours before her husband joined her, collapsing into the bed in his clothes and for once she did not move to take care of him, Y/n left him in his clothes and on his chest in the bed.

Her days went on like that for most of the week. She would have breakfast and enjoy a walk in the gardens before finding her way to the library again and spending the rest of the entire day with Aemond. They both made an appearance at the party every night as was expected before abandoning the noisy, drunken mess and enjoying each others company again.

Aemond continued teaching her Valyrian and they could hold conversations now (albeit simple ones) as she was a fast learner. He also told her all about Vhagar, loving her interest in his dragon where most ladies were terrified.

She had raged when he told her of how he really lost his eye, furious that his nephew would do such a thing, all of them. She also condemned the ladies in the court who had made Aemond feel ugly just because of his injured eye. She swore to the heavens that he was one of if not the most beautiful man she had ever seen and she would not take his negative words into account.

Aemond had quickly come to love Y/n and she loved him as well, they both knew but neither of them crossed the line to say it. Though as her husband had never consummated their marriage Aemond had decided that he was going to ask his father to annul the marriage so that he could marry her instead. It would be a good match for his family, Y/n originally being an Arryn, and he knew that her father would take insult from the Baratheons for not taking care of his daughter or making their marriage legal. He was determined to convince her that night, the second to last day of the celebration, however his soon to be Princess never arrived.

Aemond waited for over an hour before searching the party. He found her husband, nearly as drunk as Aegon and with his tongue down a ladies throat but Y/n was not there.

He then left the castle and walked the gardens in search of her as he knew she enjoyed the Red Keeps gardens. After about 5 minutes he found her sitting on a wall overlooking the beach.

‘You are difficult to find, my dear.’ She jumped, turning slightly but not looking at him, turning back to the view.

‘I am sorry my Prince. I have enjoyed our time together but it must come to an end, please forgive me but I wish to be left alone now.’ He was stunned, unsure of how to respond but knowing that he wasn’t about to leave her like this.

‘Whatever I have done, please forgive me Byka Zokla? I do not-‘ (Little Wolf)

‘You have done nothing my Prince! It is I who is in the wrong. I have led you to believe that we could be friends and that was wrong of me. My job is to be there for my husband and I have not been doing my duty-‘

‘Your duty? What about him? He has not taken care of you as is his job as your husband and protector! You’re not waiting on him hand and foot anymore so he is upset, yes? Please? Do not push me away Y/n, I can help you to-‘ he cut himself off as he turned her head to make her look at him and he finally saw what she was hiding from him. Her right eye was black and blue, her bottom lip was split in 2 places and her throat was bruised, clearly in the shape of hands. ‘Oh my Love! No! This will not stand! Come with me.’ He insisted, holding out his hand. She hesitated but he looked down at her softly, giving her time to decide. ‘Trust me?’ After another few seconds Y/n took his hand and allowed him to whisk her off and they arrived in the Small Councils meeting room where the Queen walked in not a moment later having been fetched by a guard for her son.

‘Aemond…what is the meaning of this?!’ Alicent snapped, storming over to the girl and seemingly thinking that her son had done it but she changed her tune when the girl flinched away and hid behind him instead.

‘Mother. This is the girl I spoke to you about, her husband has proved…ungallant. I wish to take her as my bride.’ Alicent was looking over his ladies face when she fully understood what he had said and jerked her head up.

‘My son, she is married already. You cannot just take another man’s wife, even as a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. You-‘

‘Their marriage has not been consummated.’ She stopped speaking and looked between them in shock.

‘Well…that changes things…she will need to testify it to the King and he will need to annul the marriage before anything else can happen. It will take time. I will speak to the Hand and start the process for it, we will find a room for her here to keep her safe from now on.’ Alicent turned to Y/n and held out her hand. ‘Come, let’s get you out of those dirty, bloody clothes and put you to bed.’

‘I will come and say “Goodnight” in a bit. You have a bath and relax…I will take care of you, I promise.’ Aemond swore, kissing her hand and watching her blush before she walked off with his mother.

Aemond straightened himself as she left the room and turned to head back to the party where he almost immediately found the man he was looking for.

Y/n’s husband was holding a full goblet of wine with his arm around a ladies waist looking quite content. Aemond moved beside him to grab himself a cup of wine, purposefully causing the idiot to bump into him.

‘Fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.’ He laughed obnoxiously and Aemond found himself wondering how Y/n ever stood being around him at all.

‘Evidently.’ He rolled his eyes and could instantly see that this man didn’t appreciate the action.

‘You may be a Prince but you’re still only a second son, and no where close to Daddies favorite. Watch yourself. I am the head of Storm’s End and soon enough the Vale, you are nothing and even less than that without your Dragon behind you.’ The man was clearly drunk as fuck but Aemond was happy with that. It would make this easier…

Aemond smirked as he leaned in close, the young Tully girl that he had had on his arm long gone, not willing to upset a Prince, let alone the one eyed prince himself. ‘I fucked your wife.’ He mumbled, close enough that only he could hear and he absolutely did.

‘What the fuck did you say?’ He snarled, eyes nearly catching fire in his instant rage but Aemond stayed calm. He needed to control himself for this to work.

‘I fucked…your wife…Gods knows you weren’t doing it. Such a lonely girl, desperate for a man’s affection and all she was given was an insolent child. It’s pathetic. Don’t worry though, soon enough she will be raising my son and she won’t be worried about you anymore.’ The boy was practically shaking in his rage, fists clenched and men were beginning to take notice, several of the women moving to alert the guards so Aemond would need to do this quickly. ‘Give it 9 months and everyone will know exactly who your wife strayed from you with, the silver haired boy suckling on her tits will be evidence enough. I’m sure with enough words to the King I can ensure my son will inherit all of your lands when you die. Too bad you weren’t man enough to impregnate her yourself or y-‘ He was finally cut off by a truly pathetic punch to his face but he played into it, falling dramatically to the ground and biting his tongue, spitting blood out to make it seem worse than it had been.

He was grabbed instantly and held back from coming at Aemond again who smirked up at him, the boy only seeming to now realize what had happened. ‘Chain this drunken fool and take him to the Black Cells for-‘

‘No!’ Aemond snapped, cutting off his Grandsire. ‘It was me that he assaulted and as a Prince of the realm it is my decision what happens to him.’ He declared and though Otto looked at him strangely he nodded nonetheless. He reached out, grabbing the collar of the drunk and yanked him forward, dragging him from the party and outside through the front gate.

‘Aemond-‘

‘He dies tonight, would you like to argue?’ The one eyed Prince hissed at his Grandsire who knew not to argue with him in this state.

Vhagar peeked her eyes open at the sound of men approaching her beach, seeing her rider dragging along a man that was trying very hard to get away or hurt him making her bare her teeth and hiss instantly.

‘Dokimarvos Vhagar! Umbās!’ He spoke to her and she sat her head up and waited for her rider to speak. *Pay Attention Vhagar! Wait!*

‘This is a message to anyone that thinks to defy me or Gods forbid, harm the people I care about. I am not merciful, you can find mercy with my family but not here. Anyone who wants to disagree with this will not end up in the Black cells, but with my Dragon as their punishment!’ Aemond ignored Otto who was trying to stop his rushed decision. ‘Dohaerās Vhagar! Kisās!’ *Obey Vhagar! Eat!*

Everyone watched on as the giant she-dragon lifted her head over the abusive asshole and opened her mouth wide before chomping down on the man and seeming to swallow him whole which had several people screaming and one man actually fainting.

Aemond was proud of himself, he had saved his girl and it barely took an hour.

He quickly made his way back into the Red Keep and up to the room that he knew his mother had put his soon-to-be wife in. As he entered, knocking softly as to not frighten her, he saw her in a sleep shift and he couldn’t help but stare. His girl was beautiful and she was going to be all his now.

‘Did you have a nice bath?’ He asked, moving to pull the blankets back for her and enjoying her soft blush as she crawled into the bed.

‘It was very relaxing. I’ve never had servants to wash me like that before.’ She teased, though Aemond was surprised by that.

‘You are a lady, are you not? How-‘

‘My mother took care of us as children and when we grew she insisted that we were able to bathe ourselves. My husband however, did not want anyone seeing me in a state of undress…it was strange but nice I suppose. A lady could get used to such treatment.’ Her soft laugh was everything Aemond loved as he reached out and cupped the side of her face.

‘You will get used to it. You are to be my wife, and my wife will have the best of everything. I will bathe you myself if it brings you happiness.’ He teased her, kissing the side of her head before standing again. ‘Get some sleep my lady, no one will bother you, you have my word-‘

‘Will you stay?’ She asked and though he was startled he did not let it show, knowing she was still probably feeling afraid after all that had happened, especially now that she’s in a strange place that she’s sure to never leave again. She would need to get used to being his and knowing that she is completely safe here, she would learn to trust what he said when he told her that he would never let anyone harm her again-let alone another husband. Aemond removed his shoes and coat, as well as his weapons before crawling onto the other side and feeling her head rest on his shoulder. He was careful not to touch any of her injuries as he let her drift off to sleep. He knew his mother would be upset at his sleeping here but he didn’t care. Y/n would be his wife by the weeks end and he would give her everything that bitch of a “husband” could not.

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

[ew-selfish-art]

DCxDP AU: Danny and Damian are actually twins but were never raised together- Talia would divide her time between bases, spending time with them separately (but spending more time with Damian). Jason technically only met Danny in his time with the LoA.

It still a very tenuous truce that Jason has with his family when he finally joins them for breakfast after a late night of busting a drug ring. And sue him, he's never cared to look at the little one that closely when he's not pointing a knife in his direction. But then the little Bat Brat turned his face towards the ray of light streaming into the family room of the Manor and Jason caught a closer look to the… green color. Huh.

“Hey demon, when you died did you come back with those green eyes?” Jason calls out, and perhaps it’s a little antagonistic but something deeply unsettles the crime lord about this.

“Tt. I’ve always had green eyes Todd. Your observation skills remain dulled-“ Damian begins to berate him but Jason’s scowl deepens and he interrupts.

“No, they were definitely Bruce’s color blue when I met you with Talia- I punched your lights out because of it remember?” Jason supplies, looking perturbed and having a small child look equally perturbed back at him.

“You never met me in Nanda Parbat. And mother would have never allowed you to attack above your station and live.”

“Kid I literally have the scars from my punishment. My memory from that time after the pit might not be great or even good but I know, I know I punched your lights out.”

“No doubt you have been fooled by a clone then-“ Damian says but he looks upset.

“Talia called you Dami then, you’ve never let us call you that.” Jason supplies further, he was certain that Talia had introduced him as her son.

“I was never called such an informal name.” But Damian looks disturbed more than he looks like he wants to fight.

Eventually, after combing through their collective memory of Talia's where abouts and Damian's lack of interaction with Todd, it’s decided that they have to talk to Drake who was there the most recently. Neither wants to add the fact that he's also the most knowledgeable family member when it comes to the LoA now.

“Huh? Yeah, it looks like Talia kept ledgers dividing her time between two places- the journal reads like there is Dami as Damian but… maybe it’s Dami AND Damian…” Tim reviews the books he robbed them of with a fine tooth comb and suddenly this pattern of using the “nickname” and the “full name” start to show a “first child” and a “second child”.

Damian was clearly the favorite. The ‘Dami’ kid was sent away on a suicide mission pretty early in their lives, he would have left right after Todd did at the age of 8-ish. They all groaned at the cold trail following this assignment he failed to return from- it meant that they had to involve Bruce with a DNA search of the local areas the kid had been sent to across the globe. One of which, weirdly enough, was in Illinois.

…

“My name isn’t Daniel” Danny sighs at yet another event the Mansons brought him to with Vlad looking over his shoulder every five minutes.

Then the weird skinny kid who’s the big talk of the town approaches him with some guy built like a tank and says: “It’s Damian, isn’t it?”

Danny literally sinks through the floors, but in his attempts to run out the back door he’s stopped- By a guy that has Danny's own face and a very sharp looking knife pressed to Danny's throat.

In short- Danny introduced himself to the Fentons as “Dami” but they misheard him and called him Danny and fuck it, it’s close enough.

Now it turns out that their mother only planned on one surviving the artificial womb and gave them very different amounts of her time- so she just gave them the same name and reported it like she only had one child.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

May I have Childhood friends to lovers with Loki or Bruce Wayne pleaseee… thank you!

.⋆｡For the Longest Time｡⋆.

Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

You were always there in his life, just like he was for you. A little jealousy and a clingy eight year old might finally give you the push you both need

Warnings: fluff, jealousy, simp!Bruce, vague mention of hook-ups, little bit of Dick’s abandonment issues, mutual pining WC: 2.5k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Where’s Y/N?” A little voice spoke up from somewhere over Bruce’s left shoulder. He groaned and buried his face deeper in the silk pillowcase, he had only just crawled into bed. The mattress dipped as Dick hauled himself onto the bed, making Bruce swallow down a curse.

“What’s up?” He rolled onto his back and pulled back the blankets enough for a little body to slip under the covers. He received a kick to his very sore ribs as Dick clambered over him in his attempt to settle in the crook of Bruce’s shoulder. The eight year old sighed happily and cuddled up close to his adoptive father.

Bruce smiled despite the throbbing pain in his torso and the early wake up. “What did you need?” 

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked again, propping his chin on Bruce’s collarbone.

“She’s at her apartment?” His voice tilted up, confused at the question. Sure, you were at the manor quite frequently given that you helped Bruce with Dick’s care but you had never stayed the night, save for once when both you and Bruce were too drunk to even move.

Dick huffed, his bottom lip poking out as he looked away from Bruce. “That’s stupid.” The older man swallowed back a chuckle, instead he placed a hand on the boy’s back, his palm almost covering the entire thing. 

“Why’s it stupid?” He shut his eyes again. 

“Cause I want her to live with me!” 

“Hmm, maybe you can go live with her and I can finally get some sleep.” Tiny fingers dug into his armpit, making Bruce yelp and raise an eyebrow at Dick.

“No. I don’t wanna move my toys. Make her live here.” Bruce sighed heavily, sinking further into his mattress.

Yeah, right. He wanted to say but held his tongue. He had broached the idea when he had first taken Dick in, needing an extra set of hands for the rowdy child but you had quite literally laughed him off, just the same as you did when you were both eighteen and he had tried to give you one of his credit cards. You were fiercely independent and while you loved Dick, you still had your own work and life.

“You could try, chum but I think she likes her house more.” 

“Then let’s go there today!” Dick pushed himself up onto his knees, eyes shining with this brilliant idea. 

“Chum-“ But Dick had rushed out of the room before Bruce could get another word out, leaving him to contemplate whether he was going to break his son’s heart by falling back asleep or get up for the day and end up with a massive headache later. Distantly, he could hear Dick chattering away to himself and he knew he would have to raid your medicine cabinet in a few hours.

——————

Dick practically flew up the stairs of your apartment building, his backpack rattling with the sound of loose Lego bricks and inevitably a book he would get you to read him, as Bruce trailed behind, dark sunglasses perched on the end of his nose. He himself held a bag of food from Alfred and a bottle of your favourite wine as a sorry for the unexpected visit. He could at least pat himself on the back for delaying Dick just long enough for the boy to get some food and Bruce to get a couple hours of sleep.

“Come on! You’re so slow!” Dick whined as he reached the landing on your floor. He bounced on the balls of his feet before he huffed and threw open the door, darting down the empty hallway. The rattling of his bag grew distant and then, he was banging on your door with all the might his little fists could muster.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Bruce cringed, his head ducked down as he passed by the other apartments on your floor, silently apologising to each of them. 

“Chum you can’t-“ But your door opened right then and the breath was knocked from his lungs. You were wearing a dark red dress that perfectly matched the matte lipstick on your plump lips. The fabric perfectly clung to you, making your curves even more prominent. You were still wearing your slippers and only had one earring in but you were still the most beautiful thing Bruce had ever seen, just as you always had been.

“Well isn’t this a surprise.” Dick wasted no time, throwing himself into your arms, he squealed loudly and buried his face in the crook of your neck. You laughed as his little fingers dug into the neckline of your dress, no doubt ruining the fabric. “I thought there was a monkey at my door with all that noise.” You ran your left hand along his side as you stood up, making Dick giggle and cling to you even tighter. In a couple months, Bruce doubted you’d be able to pick him up anymore.

“I missed you!” You beamed. Bruce felt his knees buckle.

“It’s a good thing you came over then, cause I missed you too!” 

Bruce cleared his throat. “I hope I can be included in that sentiment as well.” You finally looked up at him, your eyes shining like stars. You smirked, biting down on your lip as you gave the man a quick one over.

“Depends, what did you bring me?” 

“So my child doesn’t count?” Dick laughed again, his knees digging into your side. You raised an eyebrow at Bruce who lifted the bottle of wine with a sly smile.

“Why didn’t you start with that? Come on in.” You stepped back into the apartment, leaving the door open for him to follow behind. 

Your home had always been a comfort for Bruce, a safe haven tucked away from the world and his responsibilities. The weight of Batman and being the last Wayne, and even though he loved him dearly, being Dick’s father, lifted from his shoulders as the soft colours of your walls surrounded him. 

You wandered into the kitchen, like you normally did when they stopped by for a visit, Dick chattering away about anything and everything that came into his little mind while Bruce stopped to look at the new photos you had hung up in the living room. Photos of memories he had forgotten. There was one of the both of you in a pillow fort that towered over you, your faces slathered in chocolate from bags of candy at your feet. Another was the 3rd grade dance that your parents had chaperoned, you in a bright pink princess dress complete with fairy wings and a plastic tiara and him in a tiny suit with one of his father’s best ties that was far too big for him. Your high school graduation party where you and Bruce in all your drunken genius decided to race up one of the old trees on the Wayne property and got stuck at the top.

But the most recent one made his heart skip a beat; it was of all three of you curled up on your couch, Dick sound asleep on your lap as Bruce ‘rested his eyes’ while leaning on your shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around both of you as you beamed up at the camera. All of his happiest moments had you in them and for the life of him, he wouldn’t change anything about it.

Bruce turned and spotted your heels by the door, the red-bottomed ones that you only ever used when you wanted to get laid. Something in his stomach turned sour at the thought. “Why are you so dressed up?” He asked as casually as he could though his voice cracked. 

“Yeah! You look pretty!” Dick chirped though his own voice was muffled, no doubt you had already given him a cookie that he shouldn’t be having.

“I have a date,” You cooed (to Dick but Bruce liked to pretend it was for him), “but since you guys are here now. I’ll cancel it.”

“You don’t have to do that. We can go.” Relief made his shoulders sag but Bruce still forced a frown on his lips as you came back around the corner, Dick still perched on your wide hip. You were practically glowing with joy.

You waved him off and pressed a kiss to Dick’s chubby cheek, leaving a bright lipstick stain there. “I would much rather spend the evening with you guys. It also means I get to wear comfy clothes instead of this dumb dress.” Dick slipped from your arms and went to his bag, which he had dropped on the couch.

“Are you sure?” But that wasn’t the question he was really asking. You just smiled at him, putting a hand on his bicep as you leaned in close.

“There’s nowhere else I would rather be. Now let me get changed and we can watch a movie, how’s that sound bud?” Dick grumbled something to the affirmative, making you laugh to yourself as you turned to go to your room but not without a parting squeeze to Bruce’s arm. He watched you go, his gaze dropping to your ass to appreciate the sight for just a moment before he caught himself and turned his attention back to his son.

Dick, who was already observing his father with a curious expression, suddenly lit up with an idea. He covered his mouth with his hand and then disappeared as he fell back onto the cushions, a little laugh escaping him as he landed. Bruce ignored the boy and went to the kitchen to get some snacks together for all of you. 

The TV flicked to life, dousing the apartment with a hazy background noise that served to lead Bruce deeper into the fantasy of this life of domesticity actually being his. If he let himself, he could almost imagine how perfect it would be, just his family spending time together away from the rest of the world. But there was still that nagging fact that you had a date tonight, one that you cancelled for him sure, but a date nonetheless.

You weren’t his wife or his girlfriend, and that made his blood freeze.

He pulled out the cork from the bottle with perhaps a bit more force than necessary, sending a few drops of red liquid directly onto his white shirt. “Fuck.” He groaned and grabbed the dish towel on the counter to try and scrub away at the stain. 

“I can’t leave you alone for a second.” Your smaller hands gripped his waist, turning him around so you could take the towel from him. Bruce let you manhandle him until you could easily rub against his chest but the stain had already set in. Your bottom lip poked out, an almost overwhelming temptation to your oldest friend, before your fingers curled into his belt and tugged him away from the kitchen counter.

Bruce went willingly, eagerly. “I’ve got some of your shirts in my wardrobe, go get changed and I’ll finish up here.” He nodded blankly and wandered away from you.

You watched him go for just a moment before finishing pouring out the wine and laying some of the cheeses Alfred has so thoughtfully packed on a small tray. You grabbed some hopefully not stale crackers from the cabinet and journeyed back into the living room. “What are we watching tonight Dickie?”

Dick looked up from his spot between the couch and coffee table as you sat down with an almost bored expression on his little face. “Star Wars.”

“Duh.” You replied.

Soon Bruce wandered back in. “Why exactly do you have so many of my shirts in your closet?” You shrugged behind your glass, though he knew your cheeks were heated with embarrassment.

“Cause you’re clumsy and I knew I’d have to keep clean clothes for you.” He flopped down on the couch next to you, his arm immediately finding its place across your shoulders.

“Yeah right.” You curled into his side, settling in for a nice little evening.

It was halfway through the movie that Dick climbed onto the couch between you and his dad. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” He muttered wistfully, taking yours and Bruce’s hand into his. You looked at Bruce from over his little head.

“Aw buddy, we can do this whenever you want. You’re always welcome here, you know that.” He shook his head and Bruce's heart sank.

“What do you mean chum?” He asked, wondering if there was something more going on. Dick’s chest inflated as he took in a deep breath.

“But we always go home and you never come with us! You-you don’t really want us, you live so far away. And,” he sighed heavily, giving you the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes he could muster, “and you go on dates with people who aren’t my dad. You’ll leave.” His grip on your hand tightened like you would disappear right then.

Bruce’s heart lurched as your lips parted. “You should date him instead! And then we can all live together at home like we should be!” Dick continued and then, he slammed your hand into Bruce’s, forcing your fingers to intertwine.

“Dickie-“

“No! You’re supposed to be together! Even Alfred says so! So just do it already and then we can go home. Together.” His gaze switched to Bruce, who caught his glare. The man swallowed thickly and looked at you and for the first time in his life, Bruce couldn’t tell what you were thinking.

You let out a shaky breath after a moment, your fingers pressing into the back of his hand. He could feel your pulse against his wrist, your heartbeat was fast, almost matching his own. “Maybe you’re right Dickie.”

“What?” The word escaped him like he had just been punched, making your lips curl up into a bashful smile. 

“Maybe, I should be dating you and not those other men who I always end up comparing to you anyway. Maybe I should be going home with you.” 

“I think maybe you should.” Bruce leaned over his son, his free hand coming up to hold your full cheek. “Because I have spent my whole life with you by my side and now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t want you so far away anymore. I want to see your face everyday and hear your voice from beside me every moment that I can.” 

Your eyes dropped to his lips and that was all it took for Bruce to close the distance and finally kissed you like he should have done years ago when he realised that no other woman would live up to the place you carved out in his heart. You immediately melted into him, laying your hand on top of his own. 

Just as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, Dick got up on his knees between you and threw his skinny arms around your necks. You separated just as he shouted, “I told you!” 

You both laughed and hugged him back, sinking back down into the couch all together. Bruce’s chest warmed. Maybe, finally, he could get you to come home.

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[rogueddie]

There are a lot of rumors about Eddie Munson. From his sexuality, to his religion, to him being some sort of supernatural creature.

Steve doesn’t put a lot of merit in most of them. They’re usually just bullshit people make up to entertain themselves with whilst beating down on the weird kid. Steve thinks it’s boring… usually.

He’s seen enough weird things happen around Munson to know that something isn’t right. Something about him is unnatural. And Steve is staying clear out of the way of whatever the hell he is, or whatever the hell he’s messing with.

Unfortunately, his friends haven’t gotten the message.

“Do it at your own house!” Steve complains, though he makes no move to stop them. He’s sure it’s nothing, that it’ll only lead to an annoying clean-up job, but there’s a nagging sense of dread writhing in his gut. “This shit is bull anyway.”

“If it’s bull then what’s the problem?” Tommy counters.

“Because none of you dickheads are going to help clean this shit up!”

“I promise to help you clean up,” Carol says. “There. Problem solved. Right?”

"It's still stupid," Steve mutters, glaring at the janky make-shift pentagram they've made. "And a bad idea."

It's drawn on nine pieces of paper- they wanted to draw it big on the floor, but Steve had but his foot down. He lets them use some of his moms candles as a compromise.

With the lights off, sitting with the two of them in a circle, it suddenly feels too real. Even Carol looks suddenly nervous.

Tommy is the only one still smirking, though Steve is sure that it's forced. His voice shakes a little as he begins reading off the paper he'd torn out a library book. His Latin is clunky.

At first, nothing happens.

Long enough that Carol says, "did you even say it right?"

"Yes, it even has-" Tommy starts.

The candles all blow out, suddenly. The light Steve had left on in the kitchen flicks off too, plunging them into complete darkness.

After a horrible moment, where they're still and silent, Carol yelps.

"Don't grab me, Tommy, that's not funny!"

"I didn't grab you."

"Wh- Steve?"

"No," is all Steve can get out.

"I'm turning the lights on," Tommy says. "This is ridiculous."

Steve listens to his footsteps and, when he sounds like he's almost at the light switch, he yelps.

"Fuck this," he says.

"What the fuck, Tommy!" Carol yells when they both hear him running past them. She's up on her feet immediately, chasing after him.

He wants to scream after them, plead with them to come back, that they shouldn't be abandoning the circle.

But, the same gut instinct that insists he stay where he is, keeps his mouth shut. Everything in his being is telling him that if he leaves, if he speaks first, horrible things will happen to him.

Something tuts, like a parent admonishing a child.

The living room light flicks on, so bright that Steve has to blink a few times to clear away the white spots.

Eddie Munson sits in the space they left empty.

"Someone didn't read the terms and conditions," he snickers.

"What..." Steve pauses, clearing his throat. "What are the, uh... terms and conditions?"

"Oh, they're simple, really. Look," he holds up the page Tommy had read the incantations from, pointing to the little paragraph at the end. "They even translated it to English! But all you need to know, big boy, is that you are A-OK."

"And... Tommy and Carol?"

"Eh, they're fine. Lucky, really. I'm trying to relax up here. I'm only gonna pay them back with a minor curse or two. Nothing lethal."

"Fuck."

"We haven't even got to you yet!" He spins around so hes laying on his belly, resting his chin on his palm. "You didn't technically summon me so you can just tell me to leave... or."

"Or?"

"Deal with no consequence, baby. One wish, whatever you want, free of charge. Well... I'd want your silence about the whole... summoning thing. Let's consider that payment."

He doesn't need his gut or book to warn him that it's a bad idea. Munson could be lying, easily. There could be fine print. It's a bad, very bad idea.

"There's... definitely no consequences? I won't, like, go to hell for this?" Steve finally asks.

"Do some charity work for a week, you'll be fine," he says, waving his hand around. "What do you want, King Steve?"

"Could- could you make someone love me?"

"Oh, ho ho ho! Who's the unlucky lady who said no to you?"

"No, it... it's not like that. I mean, um... my mom."

Munsons smile drops. The temperature drops with it, making a chill run up Steves spine.

"Your mom," he repeats.

"They're busy like, all the time," Steve automatically defends. "And they're barely here so, uh... of course they wouldn't- I mean, it's normal, right? You can't love a stranger or... whatever. It's fine. It's just... I don't know."

"Steve..." Munson pauses.

He groans, throwing his head into his hands, dramatically. He almost immediately flings his head back up, hair flying everywhere, giving Steve wide and pleading eyes.

"I can't make people fall in love or any shit like that. I can make illusions, that's it. Love is, like... way out of my jurisdiction."

"I- I'm ok with an illusion. Like, just one day or something."

"Steve, baby, you're breaking my heart."

"Please?"

"Jesus- ok!" Grumbling, Munson shifts so he's kneeling. "And in return, you won't say shit about any of this. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Great. Ugh. This next part is... weird."

"What do you mean, weird?"

"It's weird, I don't know. Deals about, like, love are sealed with a kiss."

"You're joking."

"Nope, and that's not even the weird part. Now, come on and pucker up, let's get this over with." He gestures for Steve to shuffle closer, waiting until they're sat close enough that their knees almost bump together. "You can still change your mind. Anything at all, Steve. Anything."

"I thought you wanted to get this over with?"

"On your head..."

Munson leans forward, kissing him. It's just a peck, simple and easy. No big deal, right?

Steve feels possessed. It's like someone lit a match in his stomach, leaving him lightheaded and confused. He's not sure how he ends up in Eddie's lap, clutching onto his shoulders, desperately trying to lick into his mouth. He feels so-

He wakes up in his bed, the morning light blinding him.

"What the fuck..." he mutters to himself, grabbing at his throbbing head.

At first, he thinks he's hungover. That he'd just had a weird dream... but he's wearing the same clothes. And, sat on his stomach, is a guitar pic. It's got 'corroded coffin' written on it too- Eddie's band.

"Steve!" He hears his mom call. "Time to get up!"

He scrambles out of bed, dashing down the stairs.

She smiles when she spots him, so bright and warm. She even raises an arm, laughing when he practically throws himself into her side and hugging her tight.

"Morning, sweetheart. Good dreams?"

"Yeah. Yeah, great. But, uh... I feel sick."

"Oh no," she frowns. She puts her hand to his forehead, cooing when she brushes his hair out his face. "Is it your stomach?"

"Yeah. Just... might be better to stay home today. If that's ok?"

"Of course it is. I'm sure we can find something fun to do together, yeah? How about we get a vhs movie, hm?"

"I'd love that."

"Great. Well, if you're feeling up to it, I've made breakfast." She steps away, plating the food she's cooked up. "Oh, did I ever tell you about Paris? It was beautiful, you would have loved it. We should bring you, next time we go."

Steve can't stop smiling. He's sure that his cheeks will be aching by the end of the day.

He'll have to thank Eddie- as soon as he can even think about him without blushing. He'll need to ask if it's normal to still feel... affected, even after the deal is done.

Part of him knows it isn't the deal. Part of him is too curious about how Eddie will react.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Childs play (Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader [ex-Childhood best friend turned Fwb AU]) Part 1

Hiiiii! I’m so freaking excited for y’all to read this I’m literally shaking! This will only be 1 part. (Edit: I’ve changed my mind it will get a second part but it won’t be put right away) Shout out to @chickenshit03 for beta reading the one shot. Absolute sweetheart 🫶🏼. Not proofread, enjoy!!

(Y/N)-Your name.

NSFW!! SMUT!! MDNI!! Cursing, light choking during the deed , protecting PinV, Miguel being a big meanie near the end, Comfort/Hurt, lmk if I can’t think of anymore

Word count: 4.6k

Part 2

Masterlist

—

Knock knock…

“Hello, I’m sorry if I’m intruding but I wanted to introduce myself, me and my family just moved in next door and I wanted to introduce ourselves.” Your mother said as she stood at her neighbors door, you hid timidly behind her leg as she spoke to a Hispanic woman with curly dark hair. Your eyes wandered around her living room, or at least as much as you could catch from your spot. Not paying any mind to the conversation they were having when your eyes spotted a young boy around your age, about five or so walking past with a few legos in hand.

Your shyness was quickly overtaken with curiosity as you went to pull on your mother’s hand, she must have been watching you stare at the brunette, because before you could even turn up to ask her if you could go play, she was already shooing you in the direction of him as her and the other lady went to go talk over coffee in the kitchen.

He didn’t glance up at you as you sat down in front of his spot on the living room floor, being too preoccupied on the Star Wars set he was working on.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“My name’s (Y/N).”

“Cool.”

“What’s your name?”

“Miguel.”

You paused, shifting to sit down better before speaking again.

“Can I help? I love legos.”

He stayed quiet, and for a second you think he’ll say no, until he shrugged and moved the instruction book so you both could read it, making your lips come up in a smile.

“Sure.”

—

“You can teach me to play street fighter a million times and I will never understand it.” You huffed as you dropped the controller on your lap and leaned back on the couch, the tv in his living room sounded out a “finish her” as Miguel’s character killed yours, you couldn’t even be bothered to remember the names, peeved off that’d he beat you for the upteenth time, him not even having the courtesy to let you win one round.

“I’m not gonna be sorry for you being bad.” He retorted in a teasing tone, sticking out his tongue at you, and blew a raspberry. Your arms quickly crossover your chest as you puff your cheeks out with a pout.

“You’re so mean to me Miguel, I hate you.” You mumbled the half-lie to the other ten year old, looking away as you felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment, you didn’t even notice his movements until you felt him grab for your hand, turning your head to realize he was now standing in front of your spot on the couch.

“You don’t hate me, I’m your best friend.” He states, making you nod your head in confirmation after a beat, “Good. Because you’re my best friend too.” You smiled.

“Can we play something else then?”

“Nope.”

“Ughhh.”

—

“(Y/N), it’s your turn to spin the bottle.” Mj’s voice snapped you out of your head, suddenly aware of all the other fourteen years olds turning to stare at you. Was it a bit embarrassing you were about to lose your first kiss in a game of spin the bottle?

Half-dried nail-polished fingers gently grabbed the base of the empty Coke bottle, praying to god no one saw the way your hand trembled slightly, as you gave it a good twist. As your eyes tracked the blur of clear glass, you got your lower lip, silently hoping it was someone who you wouldn’t fluster up in embarrassment when you had to tell them who was your first kiss in the four walls of the lunch room. Like Kyle, or Ben or-

“Oooo- you got Miguel!” One of the other girls giggled as your eyes shot up to where the tip was pointing and surely, there he sat in front of you. Miguel was good…yeah, great even! You trusted him, he was your best friend since you were practically in dippers…So with a fine silent look of confirmation, you crossed the circle, closing your eyes as your lips connected for the first time.

Is it normal for your heart to skip a beat during a kiss? God how red is my face right now? Have I been holding it for too long? I wonder if he’s enjoying it, he hasn’t pulled away so that’s a good sign right? I should probably stop now. It's been like four seconds.

You finally pull away, sitting down on your knees as you bring a hand up to wipe some excess saliva away from the cover of your mouth. The sound of the next person going to spin the bottle muffles out around you as you focus on the weird flutter in your stomach.

—

“SLOW DOWN MIG-YOU’RE DRIVING LIKE A MANIAC!” You yelled as your left hand flew to grab at your seat belt, right hand gripping the overhead handle so hard your knuckles were turning white, pushing yourself as much as you could into the passenger seat at you could while he just let out an eye roll and chuckle as you were being dramatic (you weren’t).

“I’m not taking driving advice from someone who doesn’t have their license yet.”

“You got your license yesterday! I don’t turn sixteen for another four months!”

“Don’t care, you could ever shut up or take the bus.”

You couldn’t respond right away because another scream came from your throat as he turned a corner.

“If I die in this stupid car, I’m going to haunt the shit out of you O’Hara!”

“I’m not gonna let you die, stop being dramatic.” He scoffed, finally pulling up to the school parking lot, finally slowing down as he looked for a place to park. His arm comes around the back of your car seat as he goes to backwards park in an empty spot. “See I didn’t let you die.”

“I’m actually traumatized…” You muttered, eyes still wide as you kept still in your seat. Miguel let out a huff and he goes to take your seatbelt off once the car was shut off.

“If I buy you some subway during lunch will you stop complaining?”

“…yes.”

—

“Maybe I could just take a gap year-or-or go to the community college nearby, just until I can transfer, then I can try for Columbia again?” You kept fumbling your words, looking at the rejection letter in your hands. If you tried to focus on it enough, you’d be able to hear the paper shaking lightly in your hands. Glossy eyes trying to rapidly blink away tears before they fell on the paper. Miguel quickly shook his head as he placed his coffee cup down on the table of the cafe you two would frequent.

“No. Not happening, I’ll just reject my application and we can go to Stanford together in California.” He told you, making you copy his actions as you placed the paper down next to your other University letters.

“Are you crazy? That’s your dream school! I am not letting you do that for me. I’d never forgive myself for that.” You admitted, looking at him in those familiar brown eyes, praying to god yours weren’t growing bloodshot from the emotional moment between you both. Miguel letting out a heavy sigh, his hand going to run through his pushed back brown locks as he looked down at his letters again. The silence that grew over you two was almost suffocating, a thing it never felt like around him. It made your heart ache, trying to keep back a whine and some tears as you closed your eyes and took in a shaky breath before opening them again and finally breaking the silence between you both. “I mean…FaceTime is a thing right?” Miguel raised a brow at your sentence, before it clicked in his mind what you were implying. Quickly shaking his head, his hand coming up to stop you.

“No. No. I can’t even go a week without seeing you, I’ve lived next door to you for thirteen years and you expect me to be okay with us being two thousand miles away from each other!?” You glanced around you when Miguel raised his voice slightly, luckily other than you and the owner the place was practically barren.

“Mig, we’ll figure it out! We’ll call and text, FaceTime, and I’ll come back for breaks! And besides, you don’t strike me as a type to enjoy California.” You attempted to lighten the mood, thankfully being met with an amused grunt and his lip twitching up slightly.

“Fine… just, promise we aren’t going to end up like all those friends who stop talking because we’re going to separate college’s alright?”

Your smile grew. “I promise.”

—

Ring…

Ring…

Rin- “Hey it’s Miguel,” your ears perked up, quickly scrambling up from your position on your bunk bed, where you were laying on your stomach, “I can’t come to the phone right now, leave me a message.” Beep.

“Hey Miguel… just wanted to see how you were, I finished my exams for the semester, and I’m going back to Neuva York tomorrow. I wanted to see if you’d want to hang out during the break, let me know… bye…” You mumbled before you hung up the call, tossing your phone on the other side of your bed. Running your hands through your head, letting out a heavy sigh. Closing your eyes to keep any forming tears of frustration from spilling out.

You and Miguel weren’t as close as you’d like to be anymore. How did a few months apart completely unwind the tight knit threat that had kept you both close for years? It had started out well, you did good at keeping your side of the promise and he did as well. Texting every hour, FaceTiming him every weekend, calling every night while you both studied, it almost felt like nothing had changed.

Then, classes became harder, you’d both start to develop new friends, new routines. The text became less frequent, now lagging to every few days, FaceTime sessions were now non-existent and your daily calls now became monthly, never lasting more than half an hour. You hated how you two were growing apart, and it hurt to see that Miguel didn’t seem to care. You didn’t have to see him in person to notice his new friend group was starting to change his personality. He was starting to seem more stoic, dry, it almost seemed like he was constantly agitated or something of the sort when you finally would get a hold of him. Still… despite the gradual change he seemed to be going through you still had hope that deep down he was still the same old Miguel you had grown to love and cherish. And that spark of hope only grew when you heard the faint buzz of your phone from the foot of your bed, quickly grabbing it to read a new message.

Text me when you get in tomorrow.

—

This was not what you had in mind.

Somehow Miguel had convinced you to go to some random bar that didn’t ID with him and his college buddies. “I’ll be fun” he said, “you’ll love them” he said. Now here you were forced to listen to some snobby trust fund kid bitch and moan about how he had to inherit his father’s company and blah blah blah. You weren’t even paying attention anyways, his words were going into one ear and flying out the other, opting to sip on your mixed drink to help keep you from banging your head into the bar counter. Tonight had simply e been the worst. Not to mention Miguel had been acting… different.

Maybe he just wasn’t good with distance, but it still struck you as odd how the second you were both finally in close proximity it was almost as if nothing had happened, like your friendship with each other wasnt badly strained for weeks on end. It didn’t stop there though, no no no. Because now that you were with him in front of his new friends and all dolled up he had been more… touchy, and not in a way he had been before.

A hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, a finger idly twisting and twirling your hair. It was so… intimate… like he wanted them to think there was something there that was more than just a childhood friend. You couldn’t say that you hated it, it was just unexpected.

“Hey… let’s get out of here?” Miguel’s whisper snapped you out from your thoughts. The way his voice murmured lowly against your shoulder as he all but rubbed against it like a cat making your cheeks flare up and a shiver ran down your back. Quickly ignoring the feeling of the spike in your heart rate and the wetness growing in your panties, nodding as you go to stand up, not wanting to be in the over cramped bar any longer and just waiting to head back to Miguel’s place since you were staying there for a week. Feeling like your knees were going to give out from underneath you when he slid his large hand from between your shoulder blades and upwards to squeeze your right shoulder.

Not sure if your hazy mind was from the alcohol or from his actions anymore. Not sure if things would go back to how they were before you’d left when he went to leave sloppy wet kisses on your neck as soon as his apartment door was closed and locked. Not sure if you could look at him the same way after he made you see stars from the comfort of his sheets. Still you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, he felt too good.

“Fuck- felt so fucking good…” He hissed as he pulled out from between your legs, taking a moment to let himself to catch his breath before rolling the condom off and tossing it in the trash can. You didn’t respond, still out of it from the aftermath of experiencing nirvana in the form of drunk sex. Letting out a sigh as you turned to your side and closed your eyes as drowsiness starts to seep into your bones. Feeling the other side of the bed dip before a strong arm came around to hug your waist.

“…Miguel?”

“Yeah?”

“This… was a one time thing right?”

A pause, a heavy sigh before you felt his soft lips kiss the nape of your neck.

“… of course.”

—

A flash of light shined through the darkness of your studio apartment. You didn’t even need to check the notification screen in order to know who it was. Only one person would text you at two in the morning.

Come over?

If you told your high school self that the only time you ever saw Miguel was in the deeps of night while you were tangled in his sheets, she would have thought you were lying. The most fucked up part was that it was starting to affect you mentally, how your best friend had turned into a booty call because of one night from a drunk fuck seven years ago, it was painfully obvious you’d never get to the point where you’d be able to go back to the way you both once were. You couldn’t help but cling to the last broken bits he was willing to give you though. So every time he calls or texts you at random hours of the night since you’ve moved back to Nueva York, you’d show up at his doorstep like you are now.

“I know it’s late, I'm sorry, these Master exams are kicking my ass.” He apologized while letting you in after a few seconds. Closing and locking the front door before gently pushing you against it, his lips already finding their usual spot against the crook of your neck. Calloused hands began to slip underneath the baggy material of your hoodie, his large fingers gently grazing the exposed skin, you’ve learned to stop wearing shirts to these sessions a long time ago. “Need to blow off some steam…”

“Miguel…”The way you’d breathe out his name always made him feel like he had died and gone to heaven, your hands wandering upwards against the black fabric of his tank top. His lips separated from the blossoming red and purple mark they left in their wake so he can pull your jacket off before stripping off his own shirt. Your arms quickly wrap around his neck, any guilt that had been lingering in your mind quickly melted away when his hands ran down to your hips underneath your waistband, thumb fidgeting with the thin fabric of your panties. “Need you-“

“Need you too Cariño.” He muttered before going to place a gentle peck against the edge of your lips, you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper at the movement. You’ve noticed he never kisses you directly on your lips, always on the edge, on your neck or cheek. You would have felt your heart ache if the feeling of your core throbbing when his hand dragged your bottoms down to squeeze your ass wasn’t more overwhelming, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

Half of the time you two didn’t even make it to the bedroom, finding a spot on the hallway wall or against the kitchen counter. This was one of those times, he stumbled over to the couch, too distracted on leaving hickies all over your chest and dipping his fingers into your wet cunt. You let out a gasp when you landed on the brown leather rather harshly, making the couch move a few inches from its original spot due to the weight of both of your bodies hastily climbing on top of it. He made quick work to strip the rest of your clothes from both of your bodies once he made sure you hadn’t accidentally hit your head. Quickly slipping a condom before lining himself up.

“Fuuuuck-fuck…” He groaned, as he pushed the tip of his cock between your folds. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream from the deliciously painful stretch that he always provides. Giving you a second to adjust to his length and girth before pulling out and slamming his hips against yours, each thrust making your silent whimpers and whines turn into pornographic moans and incoherent babblings. “Love filling you up. You love this cock don’t you?” He taunts, it was so cruel the way the words fell from his mouth but you loved it nonetheless. Nodding rapidly as you gushed around him for the first time tonight.

“Nah uh… need to heard you say it. Use your words.” He smirks, enjoying the plop plop sound that started to quietly reverberate off the walls of his living room. Glancing down momentarily to watch a thin layer of cum that was forming a ring around the base of his cock. “Tell me how much you love it.” He urged.

“Fuck-fuck… love it so much.” You moaned, overstimulated from your orgasm, squirming underneath him just the way he liked. He couldn’t help the way his ego swells at the way you feel apart for him.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you.” He cooed as he propped your leg over his shoulder to get a better angle, his sweet words always messed with your foggy mind. “Such a sweet little thing, all for me.”

“Don’t-don’t say that Mig.” You whined, head turning to the side, as your hand dropped from his chest to drop off the couch. His right hand quickly leaves your hip and runs up to your neck, keeping his grip light as he props your head back to face him with his index finger.

“Aww poor baby, can’t handle when I talk all sweet to her, huh?” He let out an airy half chuckle. Despite the honey-like toned he’d use, the underlying taunt was always present. “Let me make it up to you baby.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he thrust deeper into your core, making your hips subconsciously jump up to meet his.

“Mig-Miguel, I’m so-so close.” You whimpered and whined, clenching around his length, his hips stuttering slightly as you felt the heat building in your lower belly start to grow with each thrust.

“Cum with me baby… Cum all over this cock.” He groaned.

“Fuck-Fuck.” With one final thrust, you finally came undone around him, his name falling from your lips over and over like a mantra. Miguel followed suit, stopping his thrust while fully inside your cunt, letting out a deep groan as he came.

“Shit… You okay?” He asked once he was able to collect himself enough, climbing off top of you before rolling the used condom off his softing member, picking up his forgotten boxers and placing them back on.

“Mhm…” You nodded, trying to stabilize yourself on shaky arms and legs. Miguel seemed to have noticed, picking up your clothes from the floor and making his way over to hand them to you.

“Let me get you some water.” He said before retreating to his kitchen. The only sound in the air now was the faint noises of him rustling around his cabinets, and the quiet shuffling of clothes. Hating the feeling of putting your legging and hoodie back on due to the thin layer of sweat still on your skin. Once you were decent enough Miguel came back with a glass of water and handed it to you. Mumbling a “thank you” before taking a sip. Miguel cleared his throat as he sat down on the other edge of the couch, eyes cast down, hands rubbing anxiously together, finally deciding to break the steadily growing awkward silence. “Look, (Y/N), I wanted to talk to you about something… something kinda important.”

You raised a brow, noticing the sudden change in his behavior, taking another quick sip before placing the half empty glass on his coffee table. “What’s up?”

He released a heavy sigh as he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, still not making eye contact as he continued. “I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll just put it out there…” He finally brought his gaze up to meet yours, “We need to stop seeing each other.”

Huh?

“I’m sorry what?” The words came out of your mouth before you could stop, your face quickly filling up with confusion and a bit of disbelief as you stood up. Miguel follows your actions as he puts his hands up in defense, but you continue before he could try explaining. “You can’t just fuck me on your couch then tell me afterwards we need to stop. You know how much of an asshole you sound?”

“I know, I know it makes me sound like an asshole.” He tried to reason with you, going to finally put on his shorts and tank top that were still on the floor. Not feeling like being half-naked during this conversation. “Look, there’s this girl I’ve been seeing and it’s getting pretty serious-“

“A girl you’ve been seeing?” You repeated in disbelief. “You can’t be for real.”

“Well, we never agreed to be exclusive. It’s not like we were going to start dating or anything.”

Ouch.

You had to turn away so they didn’t see the tears building in the corner of your eyes, but even with your face hidden your body language gave you away.

“I know we weren’t exclusive but fuck Miguel.” You shake your head, going to make your way to the door. “I’ve known you since we were five and you’re just gonna throw me away like some old toy?!”

“Hey-no. That’s not-that’s not what I mean, you know that.” He takes a step forward, grabbing your arm before you could get too far. “We can’t sleep together anymore, but we can still be friends.” You couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips, finally gathering yourself enough to pull your arm away and face him again, not caring if he saw the tears cascading down your cheeks. He’s made you cry one too many times, it’s about time he saw what he did to you. “We can still be friends! You’re still my best friend (Y/N)!” He couldn’t help but let his voice come out in more of a panic, a bit more rushed. You quickly shook your head.

“No. No, we aren’t best friends anymore Miguel, we haven’t been in a long, long time. I know that, you know that. So don’t pretend like we are just because your afraid of losing your emotional support fuck buddy.” You finally head toward the door and towards your car in the driveway, not turning to face him as you hear him call your name. “Don’t call me, don’t text me. If you're as serious about this girl as you say you are, you’d do the right thing and block me. Because I’m so tired of waiting around and pretending like one day you’ll wake up and realize I’m in love with you.”

You froze once the words came out, hand still on the car door handle as you came to the realization you finally admitted the secret you’ve been holding for the past ten years. Your free hand going to cover your mouth as you finally turn to look at Miguel, the look of shock from the confession was evident. You shook your head as you attempted to back track.

“Wait, Miguel I didn’t mean to tell you that-it just happened-“

“… You should leave.” His voice suddenly became stoic, his face hardening so it was hard to read his emotions. “This is just helping my case. Leave.” The tears flowed harder down your face as he slammed the front door shut. Leaving you to sob into the emptiness of the night as you finally let all the pain from the last seven years catch up to you.

You weren’t surprised to see your text bubbles turn green the next morning.

—

“I really think this one is it.”

“Me too!”

“He’ll love you in that dress.”

“Aww I can already see the waterworks.”

All you could do was smile, your hands repeatedly smooth non-existent wrinkles as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you looked like a real life princess. After what felt like hours you finally found the wedding dress. You couldn’t be happier.

“Alright Miss future Osborn.” Your maid of honor squealed, finally getting your attention, “You need to get out of that dress, you need to meet up Harry to look over the venue.”

You sighed, as you turned back to admire the white wedding dress one more time. “You’re right, I don’t wanna keep him waiting just cause I can’t stop staring at myself.” You giggled, before heaving to the back.

You and Harry have been dating for four years now, and he had proposed last month during your anniversary. You couldn’t be happier, he treats you like a queen, better than any other Man you’ve ever been in romantic contact with.

Once you had finally finished changing out of your regular clothes, you grabbed your phone out of your purse. Sending a quick text telling him that you found a dress, before doing a quick check on insta, wanting to look at the engagement pictures you posted on your page last week. But the soft smile on your face quickly dropped, like your heart did to your stomach when you checked your activity page.

Miguel.Ohara.99 and 4 others liked your post.

Miguel.Ohara.99 started following you.

1 message request from Miguel.Ohara.99

Fuck.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @scaryplanetdestroyer @miguels-aranita @beezusvreeland @raginghomo62 @miguelbaby @thedevax @vera4luv @alialucille

[ashwhowrites]

Hiiii I’m so excited that ur requests are open again!! Could you do a fic with Eddie and reader that are enemies but are in a parenting class and get partnered to take care of a fake baby together this causes them to get to know one another better and eventually fall for each other

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Parenting class

Eddie and Y/N did not get along and everyone knew that. Eddie wasn't sure why he hated Y/N but he knew he did. Y/N thought Eddie was loud and annoying. They bickered anytime they were in a room together.

They only had one class together and it was health. Most of the time Eddie ditched so Y/N lived in her small victories. But a new lesson was being taught- parenting. And to make it worse, they got partnered together.

Y/N groaned as she walked over to Eddie's table and slammed her books down.

"Well hello to you too, gorgeous." Eddie teased. He loved getting under her skin and driving her insane.

"Shut up," she rolled her eyes and sat down

They sat in silence as the teacher explained the project and then handed them a fake baby doll.

"Look, he's kinda ugly, like you!" Eddie smirked as he held the baby and shoved it in her face

"I would rather be a single mom than spend a second pretending to have a child together."

~~~

Eddie had the first shift with the baby. They flipped a coin and he lost. Now he was listening to a fake baby cry non-stop as he tried to sleep. He swore he tried everything, he fed him, changed him, burped him, he did everything Y/N wrote on the list, but the fucker wouldn't stop crying.

He got out of bed and turned on his lamp, he grabbed his dirty jeans off the floor and dug in the pockets. Once he found the piece of paper he was looking for, he walked out to the kitchen to grab the phone.

He tried to zone out the crying as the phone rang, sighing in relief when someone picked up

"Hello?"

"I can't get that baby to shut up," Eddie growled into the phone

"Eddie, I wrote everything down, just read. Goodnight," Y/N yawned

"You don't think I've tried everything? Trust me, calling you is my last resort. Can you come over and just help me?"

"Why should I do that?" she scoffed

"Fine, but if you ever need help I ain't coming," Eddie argued, he went to hang up but she stopped him

"What's your address?"

~

Eddie was cradling the baby doll as he waited for Y/N to arrive. He sighed in relief when he heard a knock on the door. He opened the door and Y/N slipped inside.

"My uncle is in bed so we'll go to my room," Eddie whispered, even though he was sure the baby woke him up

Y/N nodded and followed him into the room

"Hand him over," Y/N sighed, her eyes heavy as the sleep never left her body.

Eddie handed him over, watching with curious eyes as she tucked the baby in her arms. He watched in awe as she cradled the baby and bounced him in her arms, the cries dying out.

Y/N smiled as the baby seemed to calm down

"Do you have a magical touch or something?" Eddie joked, wiping the tiredness from his eyes

Y/N looked up at him, just noticing he was shirtless. She quickly looked at his face and gave him a smirk

"Wouldn't you like to know," she teased

Eddie rolled his eyes but he couldn't help smiling

"Not even if I was dying, dear," he joked.

"Where does he sleep? I'll set him down," Y/N offered as she stood up

"On the bed," Eddie shrugged. He stood up and pulled the sheets back, she stepped next to him. Her soft skin touched his as she set the baby on the bed.

"Hopefully he'll stay asleep until the morning," Y/N said

"I'll walk you out," Eddie offered, Y/N nodded and walked behind him.

"Thank you for helping," he said as he opened the door

"I was helping the baby, don't flatter yourself."

Eddie smiled to himself as she walked out.

~~~

Over the next few weeks, Eddie and Y/N found themselves calling each other for help. Which forced them to hang out and talk to each other.

They learned a few things about each other, which seemed to humanize them. Y/N learned things about Eddie that she liked, and made her look at him differently. Eddie knew that Y/N had struggles in her own life and maybe he was too hard on her.

They didn't realize how easy it was to get along. Eddie found himself enjoying Y/N's presence and wanted her around more. He liked how soft and gentle she was with the baby, it showed a different side of her that he didn't know existed.

Y/N liked seeing Eddie try at something and seeing him care. She even began to find herself attracted to him. He was more open with her and she found herself wishing she could heal all his wounds.

By the time they finished the project, they both formed a huge crush on each other. They got comfortable and began to flirt, testing the waters.

Eddie wanted to ask her out but he was a bit nervous she would say no. He didn't know if being together changed anything or if it was just him. With the project finished, they didn't have an excuse to see each other and Eddie knew the longer he waited the easier it would be for her to find someone else.

He didn't know that she was thinking the same thing. She noticed that he didn't pick on her to make her insecure, but more of picking on her to make her blush. Their comments were less harsh, and he began to compliment her.

Eddie was too chicken to do it in person, so he waited until he got home from school and could ask over the phone.

He gave himself a little pep-talk before he picked up the phone and dialed her number

"Hello?"

He smiled when he heard her voice

"Hey, it's Eddie, I was wondering if you might be interested in getting food together? Like on a date," he swore he was holding his breath once he finished his sentence.

"I'll be ready at seven, and I'd bring flowers if I were you," she said before she hung up, smiling to herself.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[flw3rrr]

I love the idea of sevika with a retired brothel worker. Like they fell in love and sevika got her a job at the last drop or smth.

I also love the idea of mama sevika. I would love to give her a child 😭 so maybe domestic fluff around sevika her wife and their child. Lil' Families are my favorite thing

The bright side of things

Parings: Sevika x Retiredbrothelworker!reader

Warnings: Nothing major, Fluff, just full on FLUFF, No mentions of Y/n, and no description of reader. Sevika trying to seem tough around the kid, but fails. (100% let me know if anything is missed!)

Word count: 1.4k

Not proofread! sorry for any typos. I wrote this at like 2 am....oops

A/n: Thank you so much for this request. I loved this idea so much when I first read it, so I had to do this one immediately! 

(I have so many more amazing requests in my inbox, and I'll get to them soon! Thanks so much again for sending this, and I hope you enjoy it)

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

Ever since you retired from working at the brothel, life seemed more simple and comfortable. Sevika, who you met a few months ago before your retirement, had grown onto you. The way she carried herself whenever she would stride around the building made you burn inside a little.

It all got better when you were told you were booked for an hour. Dreading what kind of person you'd have to entertain or boost their ego to make them feel something, but with a big surprise when your face met with Sevika's, she was leaning back, legs spread open as a cigar sat on her lips. That's how everything started for the both of you.

Sevika offered you a job at the last drop when you first told her of your retirement; it got tiring and exhausting physically and mentally. Your heart melted at her offer and took it immediately. It's something you never in your life thought you would work at, but what can you expect? It's a way better job than working at a brothel, body sore and no break.

You always remember to thank her whenever possible; Sevika isn't the type to show affection in public, so you'd always kiss her on the cheek and lips as a way of thanking her. Sharing each sweet moment with one another in your new shared apartment. The undercity wasn't some fairytale place to grow up, but with her presence, it made you forget everything.

Sevika likes that you took her offer on working at the last drop. She now gets to keep an eye on you, especially when she plays poker, and in the quick moment whenever you'd hand her a drink, your eye's lock on hers every time you hand her the glass, a soft and sweet look. Of course her gaze locks in yours in return, but never softens; she can't let half of the undercity that she's practically on her knees for you.

And this is where the both of you are now, still together and head over heels for one another. The two of you sat on the couch that sat in the small living room; you held a sketchbook, drawing random doodles, never being the professional type, though. Sevika just watches you making a game of her own on trying to guess what you're making or stares very confusingly at it. Everything was quiet and calm until a thump was heard from one of the bedroom doors.

The sound of feet padding against the wooden floor became louder until a small girl appeared with a huge smile on her face. Immediately she decided to join the both of you on the couch, but rather than sit, she began to jump and speak very fast.

"Can I please, please, pleaseee come to work with you, Momma? I want to make drinks with you." Speaking so fast, neither you nor Sevika could comprehend a single word. Glancing at Sevika for a quick moment and back to the child before stopping her from jumping on the couch to avoid any possible injuries.

"Selani, remember what we both said about jumping on the couch? You could get hurt easily." Her smile dropped as she looked at Sevika, who spoke about 'the couch wasn't cheap.' Selani gave a nod in return before sitting herself down onto the couch. Both you and Sevika took Selani in after you both found her alone with nobody near; it broke your heart badly, and with not much nagging, you both quickly became her adoptive parents.

You could tell Sevika cared for her just as much as you did, catching moments between the both of them, Selani play fighting with Sevika, who obviously would go easy on the kid knowing her strength would accidentally crush or break a bone. Or whenever Sevika's arm needed to be repaired or a quick fix, Selani was standing right by her, being the best helper.

Slowly shaking your head, sitting down by Sevika once more, both of you would take Selani with you to the last drop, as you had nobody to watch over her. Thank goodness for Jinx sometimes, but you never wanted to pressure her watching over some kid, but she always proves you wrong when Selani is gone, in seconds walking away with Jinx to do whatever.

Sevika did whatever Silco wanted her to do, whether it be cleaning up one of his messes with people or looking scary behind him. But she is graced with time to herself, which is usually at the table playing poker. You'd always say her playing poker was a show just for you because you got to watch her from afar enjoying the smirk her face always held as the other players held a look of defeat.

"You lucked out, kid; none of us are going today." Sevika spoke up, breaking you out of your train of thought. Selani frowned at the news of not going out. She always wanted to be out exploring or at the last drop, whether it be with Jinx or sneaking away and somehow finding Silco and bothering him; he seemed to not mind, you hoped.

"What? Why not?!" Crossing her little arms in frustration, both of her eyebrows slanted. That is the start of a tantrum you've grown to learn from the years you took her in--not fun at all, you remembered. It took both of you time to learn how to be parents to a child, having no prior experience, though Sevika had a tiny bit from when Jinx was younger.

Sevika let out a huge sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose before looking back up at Selani. "Because we both got the day off, and you usually take those for granted, trust me, kid." Selani's gaze just stared at the both of you; confusion covered her face. The both of you never had a day off, so why now all of a sudden? Adjusting your body to sit more straight, you faced her directly, a soft smile placed on your face knowing it's good to talk to her straightforwardly with a few restrictions but to help her feel more validated and that she had your attention.

"It's a good thing not to worry, Selani; it just means me and Sevika have the whole day with you to play or cook, even just relax if you wanted." As soon as those words left your mouth, her face lit up as if she saw a whole pile of candy with a sign that said free. "Really!" A toothy grin appeared with one missing front tooth. Giving her a nod, she immediately shot up, running over to the both of you.

Once she was in front of you both, you could tell many ideas of games were filling her little mind. Taking both of your hands, making you stand. "Do you guys have any game ideas?" Selani asked, pride filled within you, teaching her to always ask her friends if they had any ideas before doing all of hers to ensure a fair game. Within a second, Sevika tapped her shoulder before dragging you away, running. "Your it!" is what you had managed to comprehend.

"That's cheating!" Selani yelled, her laugh heard behind you as you both ran. Now ending up in your shared room with Sevika, you purposely slowed down, letting Selani catch up and tap you. Quietly, you both teamed up to get Sevika and corner her. She went in the other room first, then you followed behind.

Immediately, Selani ran at Sevika, jumping on her; following Selani's actions, avoiding hitting them both, the three of you land onto the bed. Laughter could be heard throughout the whole apartment. And if it was heard by anyone, they would only think how happy you all are. This was your safe spot, where happiness is the love of your life and beloved child. 

Sevika carefully flipped Selani over the bed, and a game of play fighting began. You watched to make sure they both didn't get hurt, and to your surprise, Selani pulled the kick method. "You called what I did cheating. What you're doing is cheating!" She joked, a smile plastered on her face as she managed to get ahold of Selani.

In a moment, Selani whispered something to Sevika, and a grin grew as they both slowly turned to look at you. "Uh oh, what's going on?" With a blink of an eye, they both grabbed you, landing back onto the bed, Selani tickled you on your stomach.

Even if your laughs filled the room, your thoughts only held on how much you adored this moment and would cherish it forever.

Life for you got automatically better and brighter once they both entered your life, and you'd never trade it away.

[whorekneecentral]

Only The Best For You

Kimi Raikkonen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dad's best friend!kimi, reader is 20/21 - reader is old enough to make her own decisions, your dad isn't pleased with the gift, one mention of alcohol and one mention of death, sexual tension, kinda power imbalance, kimi gives into the intrusive thoughts, nipple play, fingering for like 0.2 seconds, one use of the word 'daddy' in a sexual way, penetrative sex (p in v), gagging, finger sucking, 'whore' used in a sexual/degrading term.

Word Count: 2,400

Author's Note: for all my dad best friend freaks and the kimi whores, this one's for you <3 -- also ignore that it's gucci in the pic but it's something different in the fic loool I couldn't find a different pic I liked.

merry smutmas series

--

Kimi spends the holidays with his old friends. He doesn’t forget you; bringing you exactly what you had been wishing for and you make sure to thank him.. properly.

An old L/N family tradition.

Since you were a child, your parents and grandparents allowed you to open one gift from them on Christmas eve, letting you enjoy the magic of Christmas a few hours early.

You were grown up now, in college and your grandparents had sadly passed on but your parents kept the tradition going. You had come home for Christmas break and it was Christmas Eve. Your parents have just finished dinner and you have moved to the living room.

It was yourself, your parents and your dad's best friend, Kimi. You had known Kimi your whole life practically but he was always away racing so you never saw much of him until lately, now that he's officially retired - for good this time.

"Shall we open gifts?" Your father asks, walking into the living room. He passed a glass of what looks like whiskey to Kimi, who was next to you, before sitting beside your mother.

She looks over at her husband. "Honey, isn't she too grown for that?"

Your father rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "It's a family tradition, now hush. Go pick a present."

Your mum picks first, picking one from your father that just so happened to be the new perfume she wanted. Your father was next and he picked out one from you. It's a story book he used to read to you as a kid, you had written all of your favourite memories of the two of you inside of it. You made him cry, both you and Kimi laughing about that.

"Go ahead, sweetheart." Your father nods towards the tree, you move from the couch to the floor, kneeling in front of the tree to pick out a gift.

A gift sticks out to you; red wrapping paper with little elves of it and your name written in cursive across the front of it. You pick it up, shaking it a bit to see what was in it.

It felt hard, as if it was a box. You looked towards your parents, "is it from you guys?"

Your dad looks towards your mom; she took care of all of the holiday shopping. The woman shakes her head, "it's not from us, sweetie."

The gift on your lap when you glance over your shoulder at Kimi. He gives you a small smile, so small you almost miss it.

He nods towards the gift, waiting for you to open it. You rip the wrapping paper very carefully, revealing the red box underneath; the gold lettering was cursive - Cartier.

Your jaw was already dropping, looking back at the man. "You didn't," you say and he nods again, waiting for you to open the box to see what was inside.

"Kimi, what did you do?" Your mother asks, looking over at your father. He was never one for brands or jewellery, he didn't realize that buying something there automatically was an expensive purchase.

Lifting the cover carefully, the velvet black fabric inside the box held a white gold chain, blue sapphires set along the entire thing.

If your jaw wasn't already on the floor, it would be now. "Kimi!" You turned to face the man, setting the box on the couch carefully. "You did not!"

"I did," he nods. He's always been a man of very few words; more of an action rather than words type of guy.

"What is it?" Your father asks and you hand the red box over to him for him to see.

He shows your mother as he holds the box, he doesn't realize that he's holding a little over €40,000 in his hands at the moment. "Oh Kimi, it's beautiful." Your mother gushes, handing it back over to you.

You were still on the floor, admiring the necklace in the box. "Well, turn around." Kimi says and you do, sitting just between his legs.

He reaches over to take the box from you and carefully takes the chain out of its box before you lift your hair. Kimi leans forwards and you can feel his fingers brush against your skin and his breath on your shoulders when he loops it around your neck and hooks the clasp.

"It looks gorgeous on you, darling." Your mom says, smiling at you.

Your phone's in one hand and your other hand gently touches the chain, straightening it as you admired how it looked on you. "Kimi, this is too much. It's so expensive." You whisper to him and he shrugs.

"How expensive are we talking?" Your father finally speaks, looking over at his friend.

Kimi answers nonchalantly; "Like.. €40,000."

Your father instantly sits up, his jaw hanging open. "What?! Kimi, are you out of your mind?"

"Please," he looks over at his friend in disapproval. His hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb passing over your soft skin. "She's a good girl, she deserves it."

You can't help but shift a bit when he calls you a good girl, the words hitting you right where you shouldn't. It was wrong, he was your father's friend and you were.. well, you were attracted to him. You couldn't deny it; Kimi was an attractive man and despite his lack of words, he was very charming.

"Y/n, say thank you. You can't not say it when he's spent so much." Your father tells you, and you turn around to face Kimi.

"Thank you, Kimi," you smiled at him, sitting on your knees when you reached up to give the man a hug. His arms wrapped around you, his warm hand pressed to your back. "You're welcome, angel."

Another nickname that hits you in all the wrong places.

--

As the night goes on, your parents head up for bed as do you. Kimi was the last one to bed from your understanding and as the house grew quiet, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

You find yourself sat on your bed, pjs on - a tank top and a pair of shorts with a €40,000 chain around your neck.

It was nearing 3am, the witching hours as your mum says. You find yourself getting up and heading downstairs. The initial thought was to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water but you got side tracked when you see a light coming from Kimi's room.

You knock, peeking around the space left between the door frame and the actual door. "Come in," he waves to you and you step in, shutting the doors behind you. The TV was on, a rerun of some show you couldn't quite place was on.

"What are you doing up?" He asks, glancing at his phone to check the time. "Do you know how late it is?"

"I couldn't sleep," you tell him, looking over at the TV. "Can I join you?"

He shrugs, nodding towards the empty space next to him. You quietly make your way over, sitting next to him on the bed. Kimi don't miss the way your shorts hike up when you crawl over to the empty spot; it's so wrong for him to be looking at you like that but can you blame the man? You were gorgeous and you were in his bed after all.

The two of you sit quietly, watching as the show rolls on into another episode. You unconsciously play with the chain, shifting it back and forth slowly.

Kimi looks over at you, smiling to himself; you were the picture of beauty.

"You're staring," you mumble, glancing at him. He smiles, like actually smiles. "You're beautiful."

Your cheeks are red, you hope that the light coming from the tv isn't bright enough for him to realize that just yet.

"It looks good on you," he says, "like it was made for you."

"Blue has always been my favourite colour." You smiled, glancing down at the chain. "Did you pick it yourself?"

He nods, "I saw it and thought of you, I figured you'd like it."

"I do, very much." You look over at him, Kimi smiles at you and your hand shifts from your thigh to his, rubbing along it softly. Kimi's brows furrow ever so slightly. He doesn't say anything, hoping that you'd stop if he ignores it.

You were persistent.

Your hand travels higher, about to rub over the ever so evident bulge in his shorts but Kimi catches your hand, holding your wrist. "We can't, y/n."

"Why not?"

"It's wrong," he whispers, glancing at the door - you weren't sure if he wanted you to leave or if he was catching to see if it was locked. You wiggle your hand from his grasp, Kimi lets out a small breath of relief; see, the man was stupid enough to think you were stopping.

You didn't stop. Instead, you got on his lap, straddling him with your hands on his shoulders. Kimi's hand rests on your lower back as he looks at you.

"Let me thank you properly," you whisper, lips ghosting over his.

Kimi reaches up, his lips pressed to yours but he's yet to kiss you. "You don't have too."

"I want to.. I want you," you mumbled, finally kissing the man. Your hand cupping his jaw, Kimi's hand slips under the tank top you had on and slides up your back to undo your bra but finds you don't have one on.

Kimi pushes the straps of your tank top down off your shoulders. You sat comfortably on his lap, letting him have his way with you and the man wanted one thing. He leans forward, arms wrapped around you as his lips wrap around your nipple.

“Kimi, fuck- please.” You mumble, your hand tangled in his blonde hair, tugging on it. As such as you loved the attention, you needed him.

He glances up at you, watching as your eyes fluttered shut. He groans when you pull on his hair a little harder but what's a little pain when he's making you feel good?

It was heavy, heated.

His hands on your body, pulling you over and onto him. You were perched on his lap, Kimi's hands on your ass when he kissed you again.

Not a word is spoken between the two of you and what little clothes you had on was gathered in a pile on the floor when he rolls you two over. You were flat on your back with Kimi settled between your legs.

“Please,” your hand rested on his jaw, “daddy, please.”

The pet name makes his cock twitch; it's sinful, so sinful in so many ways but he couldn't care less. You drove him mad.

His hand slips between the two of you, his fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hips lift, wanting more from him.

Kimi’s hand wandered a little lower, a finger pushed in slowly. He can feel how wet you are, wrapped around his finger and he smiles.

He moves his finger slowly, curling it. He takes pleasure in watching you, seeing how your face twists and how your body reacts to his touch.

"Please," you whimpered, "don't make me wait."

Kimi can't bring himself to say no to you.

He sits, pushing his shorts down and you get the hint, getting on top of him. Your hands grip on his shoulders, balancing yourself. Your knees on either side of his lap, Kimi's hand reaches under you to help you, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit, making your hip shift forward a bit. His free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him, his name tumbling from your lips.

You take a moment to get used to the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs along your lower back, leaning into you to kiss down your neck.

You rock your hips forward and Kimi's head drops back, his eyes now closed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand pats your hip, “made just for me.” He tells you, your lips now on his neck - a trail of marks and sloppy kisses being left along his neck.

He pulls one of your legs up forward, pulling you down further. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder. How you wished you could scream his name right now. Kimi's hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit.

Your head falls back, manicured nails digging into his pale skin when he hits the spot he was looking for. He watches as you bounce on his lap, the sapphires around your neck bouncing in rhythm with you. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Your brows furrowed, an excited look on your face despite it all. You can feel his cock twitch in you, his lips next to your ear when he leans in.

"You've got to be quiet, angel. Wouldn't want them to catch you being a whore for me, hm?

You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. Your tongue laps around his fingers, Kimi watches as you suck on them. There's a wicked smile on his face, his hips lifting to meet you halfway.

He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure. Kimi leans forward as his lips wrap around your nipple. His tongue lapped over your nipple, biting on it softy; just enough to get you to arch your back, pushing into him.

“Come on darling,” he mumbles against your skin, now kissing up to your collarbone. Kimi's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”

His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back.

Your heart beats out of your chest as you catch your breath. Kimi smiles, kissing along your shoulder. "Feel good?" He asks and you mumble something, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I take it I should spoil you more often, hm?" He chuckles, making you smile when you sit up. Kimi straightens your necklace, kissing your chin.

You shake your head and smile. "Don't have to spoil me for me to do that."

Kimi smiles at you, giving you a kiss. "Merry Christmas, y/n."

"Merry Christmas, Kimi."

--

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[aventurineswife]

Hi! I had this idea a few days ago so I was wondering if you could.

The hsr characters (Aventurine, Sampo, Childe and Scar) have a child with the reader, the detail is that their child is quite attached to them both, so they cry if not both with him or he will grab his manga with teary eyes so he doesn't leave. Is this a funny scenario? I created it, take your time for this request!

{💤🩵} anon

“I want my Daddy!”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Childe x Reader, Scar x Reader, Family Bonding, Fluff, Domestic Life, Parental Love, Comfort, Reunion, Emotional Scenes, Tender Moments, Father-Child Relationship, Slice of Life.

Warnings: Light Angst, Mentions of Separation, Child's Fear of Abandonment, Emotional Vulnerability.

A/N: BRO WHY AM I GETTING SO MANY DAD AVENTURINE REQS ALL OF A SUDDEN?! LIKE I JUST FINISHED WRITING THE DAD AVENTURINE FIC!! 😭 I guess, time to cry fr 😕💔 Also, I changed it a bit since I had hard time understanding the req(I'm dumb sorry) so I hope you don't mind!

The soft light of your shared apartment filtered through the blinds, casting golden streaks over the plush carpet where your child, a tiny bundle of energy and love, sat cross-legged. Their favorite manga rested in their small hands, though the pages were blurred by the teardrops welling in their wide eyes mirroring Aventurine’s. They hiccupped, looking at you pleadingly.

“When’s Daddy coming home?” they asked, voice trembling. You crouched down, smoothing their hair, identical to their father’s, and offered a warm smile.

“Soon, sweetheart. He’s just working hard to bring us something special.” You knew Aventurine’s job often meant long hours and the occasional high-stakes gamble, but he always made time for family.

As if summoned by your words, the door clicked open, and Aventurine’s charismatic presence filled the room. His coat swayed dramatically as he stepped in, eyes lighting up when he saw your child launch toward him, manga forgotten on the floor. “Daddy!”

He caught them mid-leap, twirling them before placing a soft kiss on their forehead. “Did you miss me already, darling? You’re going to make me think I should quit the IPC and stay home all day.” His teasing tone belied the genuine warmth in his voice. He shot you a wink, and together, the three of you melted into a laughter-filled embrace.

The marketplace bustled outside, but the cheery noises of haggling merchants were drowned out by the soft sniffles of your little one. They sat curled up on the couch, clutching their manga as though it could conjure Sampo back from wherever his latest “business deal” had taken him. Their eyes peeked up at you tearfully.

“I know Daddy promised to be back,” they murmured, burying their face further into the book. “But what if he got lost? Or—”

“Hey now,” you interrupted gently, brushing their dark blue bangs aside. “You know your dad’s the slipperiest guy in the entire Belobog. No one’s catching him—he’ll be home soon.”

Right on cue, the door creaked open, and in waltzed Sampo, his jacket swinging. “Did I hear someone missing their old man?” He grinned, arms wide as your child bolted toward him. “Ah, there’s my little business partner!”

He spun them around before collapsing dramatically onto the couch with them in his lap. “What’s this? Reading manga without me? Betrayal!” he cried, only to be silenced by their joyful giggles.

You watched from afar as the two reunited, your heart full at the sight of Sampo’s humor and charm seamlessly calming your little one’s worries.

(Header credits)

Your child’s muffled sobs echoed through the quiet of the living room. The little one, with hair that matched Childe’s, sat curled into a ball on the couch, clutching their favorite manga against their chest. Tears rolled down their cheeks, but they were trying to be brave, just like their father always taught them.

“Mommy/Papa, when’s Daddy coming back?” they asked between hiccups, their eyes wide and glistening with tears. You crouched beside them, pulling them close and wiping their tears away.

“Soon, my little warrior,” you promised. “Daddy’s out doing important work, but he’ll be back before you know it.”

As if on cue, the front door opened with a creak. Childe’s tall frame filled the doorway, his bow slung casually over his back. His eyes softened instantly at the sight of your tearful child.

“Daddy!” They leapt from the couch, manga forgotten, and ran into his waiting arms. He scooped them up effortlessly, holding them close.

“Hey there, my little fighter. Have you been holding down the fort for me?” he teased gently, ruffling their hair. “Missed me that much, huh?”

They nodded furiously, their tiny arms clinging tightly to his neck. “Don’t go away again, Daddy.”

Childe chuckled, shooting you a warm smile over their shoulder. “I’ll always come back to you, I promise.”

The quiet hum of the room was broken only by the soft sniffles of your little one, their small hands clutching a manga as though it could summon Scar back. They sat cross-legged on the plush carpet, their mismatched eyes—just like his—glistening with unshed tears. They looked up at you, their lips trembling.

“When’s Daddy coming back?” they asked, their voice barely above a whisper. “It’s too quiet without him.”

You knelt beside them, brushing their hair back gently. “Soon, my love,” you murmured, your tone soothing. “Daddy’s never gone for long. He’s just working on something very important, you know how he is.”

They hiccupped, clutching the manga tighter. “But what if he gets hurt again? What if he doesn’t come back this time?” Their wide-eyed gaze pierced you, filled with an innocent fear that only Scar’s reassurances could truly soothe.

Before you could respond, the door creaked open, and Scar’s voice filled the room, low and melodic. “Hurt? Me? Never. You know your old man is indestructible.”

Your child’s head snapped up, their tears momentarily forgotten as they bolted toward the door. “Daddy!” they cried, dropping the manga to the floor as they threw themselves into his waiting arms.

Scar knelt to catch them, his dramatic flair shining even in this tender moment. He twirled them once before cradling them close, his mismatched eyes softening as he pressed a kiss to their forehead. “Did you think I’d stay away from my two favorite people for long?” he teased, his usual wide smile gentler now. “I told you, didn’t I? No force in this world can keep me away.”

Their tiny arms wrapped tightly around his neck as they sobbed into his shoulder. “Don’t leave again, Daddy. Please.”

He glanced at you over their head, his gaze meeting yours with an unspoken promise. “I’ll always come back,” he said softly, more to you than the child. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[devoutekuna]

Stupid things their child does

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

Sukuna slept whenever he was bored, even if it meant in the middle of the vacant room. Soon his daughter would take advantage of his large body by playing on him. "Would you like more tea?" Nodding as she poured the tea into the cup. You and your daughter were having a tea party on her father as he slept, taking advantage of how still he always was and how broad his body was. Laying down next to your husband as you checked if he was actually asleep, poking at his cheek before sitting back up. He was a heavy sleeper most days. Feeling the traces of your clothes getting wet as you realize that it was your daughter's doing, spilling the cup of tea all over the blanket which rested on him. "Oh no" rushing out of the room to find some tissues, whilst you sat all the cutlery up properly.

Coming back with a roll of paper towels, starting to dab them on his clothes. "Hurry before he wakes up" giggling to yourself. Only to stop as soon as you heard your husband starting to shuffle about, rolling over onto his back as he saw his two loved ones sat beside him. A cheeky grin plastered on both of your faces.

Nanami-

His daughter had a thing for art, always drawing something or glueing something down. So when she wandered into her father's office whilst he was working, she realized that he had two copies of most books, some of them having a really pretty front cover. Taking into consideration that he was still reading them, she only took one off each shelf that she could reach which was about 4 in total. Bringing them towards the living room as she already started with her art. Placing her painted hand on the first page as she carried it on, marks of her fingerprints adorning the pages.

"I'm home" it had been a few hours since she had found the books and started her massacre of them, walking into the living room to find the copies laying on the floor with stickers, drawings or paint all over them, fortunately only 2 had been touched whilst the others were kept in their original condition. "Do you like it daddy?" Holding the book up to his face.

Geto-

Leaving his daughter alone with paint would be one of the worst mistakes, most of the time she never acted on her curiosity after learning that the hard way. But when she gets left alone with a set of paint, she can't hold back. Sticking her hand onto the plate as she placed it on the table, unfortunately it was acrylic paint too, so it would be nearly impossible to get off. Placing her hand all along the table, a mixture of colours like pink, purple, blue and red, decorating the table with her small hand. Only stopping when she hears the footsteps of her father, unfortunately for her he was quicker and saw all the mess before she could put the paper back on. "Oh.." realising that she may actually get in trouble. Only sighing in defeat, he wanted to get annoyed at her but he knew it was his fault for leaving her alone.

Gojo-

It was his son's birthday and they had a bunch of balloons out, making sure they were filled with helium for his plan. Attaching a few strings onto his son's clothing. "Don't tell your mother about this, she'll kill me" blowing the balloons up with helium, noticing how he already started to lift off the ground. "Ahh! I'm going to fly" wrapping some more balloons on his small body. Body already leaving the ground. Putting his hand over his mouth as he tried to stop giggling, he was so excited to fly, just like his father. Head hitting the ceiling as he got to high. "Take me outside!" Dragging the boy by the strings towards the outside, this was a really stupid idea, already noticing how high he would get if he wasn't holding on. "Satoru!" His wife's voice made him jump as he dropped the string. "Are you stupid?" Running towards your son. He had completely forgotten about his son when he saw you. "Hi mummy!" Saving down as he got higher and higher.

Toji-

"Help daddy!" Legs wailing in the air as she was laid down on the floor, she wanted to go on the mission with her father but he'd never allow that, but she really wanted to go so she did her last resort, trying to fit inside his worm. "What the-" refraining from swearing as he walked up towards the girl. Grabbing her by the legs as he dragged her out, tears streaming down her face, she thought she was going to get eaten by the thing. "I just wanted to come with you, b-b" crying her eyes out as she gripped onto his shirt, "But it started to eat me!" Getting it all out in one sentence before crying, getting his shirt all wet. It was stupid but he had to bring her on a mission after such dedication? "Your fine" leaving the worm alone, he didn't know if someone could survive inside of the worm since he never tried it before.

[missmeinyourbones]

I’LL MAKE THIS FEEL LIKE HOME

cw: nsfw, 18+. minors and ageless blogs will be blocked for interacting. wc 6k. todoroki fam lore. bnha manga + s6 spoilers. angst and fluff and smut and love and

“Do you feel held by him? Does he feel like home to you?”

- Midsommar (2019)

Touya was eight years old when his youngest brother was born—the same age realized that his house no longer felt like home. 

And while it never fit the traditional cookie-cutter feeling of a home before then, it was comforting in its own kind of way. It was definite, something that he could hold onto and strive towards. Something that was there at the end of the day, no matter how badly his hands burned or how quiet the dinner table was. 

Because before Shouto was born, there was still a chance. 

Fuyumi and Natsuo were just as much of failures as he was—it was anyone's game. He could keep pushing, train his hand to defy the science of his body and deal with it. Become what his father wanted so badly he’d kill for. That was home, the knowledge that there was still a chance for him. 

But the moment Shouto was born, hair perfectly split the same as his flawlessly cursed body, Touya knew. 

Instantly, he knew that his time was over—that there was no saving his dream of making his father proud. He hadn’t been enough, and he would have to live with that, in a house that's no home with a family that lives in the shadow of what he never got to be. 

He carries that feeling everywhere he goes. Like an eternal kink in his neck, it weighs heavy on his shoulders and disintegrates the marrow of his bones. Forever the boy without a home, Dabi continues to do what he does best—or maybe worst—and he survives. 

But, you don’t remember when Dabi became home to you. 

Well, that's not entirely true. Like all other things, you suppose it happened slowly, then all at once. 

You remember meeting him when you shouldn’t have. Recognizing his appearance from the local news, you remember the heavy feeling in your chest, like a child who was caught doing something wrong. The fear, the confusion. The part of you that wanted to help, the other than wanted to run. 

But you don’t remember how fast it all happened. 

Sewing his wounds and scrubbing his blood from your floor. Letting him sneak in to hide out, and waking up to an empty bed. You don’t remember the days bleeding into nights, but you could never forget the way his skin felt against yours.

You remember the impact, but the falling is all a blur. The stranger sleeping on your couch who has now read all of the books on your bedside table. The one who hissed and snarled for you to stay away, now crawls home to you on his knees. 

One day he wasn't, and the very next day, he was. 

You think that’s enough for you, but Dabi knows it’s too much for him. 

…

The sound of your window creakily opening no longer scares you in the middle of the night. If anything, it brings you a sick sense of comfort. 

Dabi slides through your living room balcony with ease, far too familiar with the routine of navigating your apartment in the dark. It does the job for him—keeps him out of the cold, gives him a bed to sleep in, a roof over his head. He finds that he enjoys the perks of your shitty building complex. 

Oh, and you're there, too. But, he swears that has nothing to do with the magnetic urge that keeps pulling him back to the fire escape on the fourth floor that remains unlocked. 

He opens your cabinets in search of something, anything, to fill his stomach in the slightest. He’s thin, almost alarmingly so, if you didn't know him—didn’t know his body is constantly working against him, eagerly taking the destruction he so carelessly puts it through.

Your sudden voice doesn't scare him. He doesn't so much as flinch at your clear tone in the silence of your home. 

“Cremation.” 

He briefly looks at you over his shoulder, humorously expressionless, before turning his back to you and rummaging through the cabinet again. 

“Gesundheit,” he scoffs.  

“It’s what your name means,” you breathe, tone still devoid of any emotion he can detect—or deflect. 

The realization burns him like his quirk, oddly painless but still alarmingly there. He holds his breath without realizing it, and its not until he coughs that he mindlessly exhales. 

Dabi. Cremation. 

True, he thinks. It’s no secret by any means, but he still finds his muscles tensing up as if you’d just said something you shouldn’t have. 

He doesn’t let his facade falter as he plucks a box of saltines from your cabinet. “Doesn't take a genius to do a basic translate search.”

“It’s not your real name,” you state, addressing the elephant infiltrating the room.

And at this, he fully turns to you. You stand in the entryway of the dark kitchen, arms crossed and eyes filled with sleep (or lack thereof, Dabi isn't sure he can tell the difference just yet). 

You're not angry. No, he's seen you angry before. This is different, harder. It's almost stoic. And while Dabi can’t put his finger on the exact feeling of the pit in his stomach, he knows he doesn’t like it.

He sticks his hand in the cardboard box before plucking a cracker and plopping the snack in his mouth. The salt burns the cuts on his lips when he sarcastically speaks, “You’re on fire with the observations today.” 

He watches you shrug, expression still void of any true indication of whatever your heart is feeling. The only light in the tiny apartment comes from the stove behind him. He can just make out your silhouette and barely your face through hardened focus and adjusting eyes. 

He thinks he’s grateful for that. He doesn’t want to see the details of your dissapointment when you see the real him. 

“Figured it was a bit too coincidental,” you rest against the doorframe. Dabi takes it as a good sign, you're not stiff. 

“Quirks don’t even manifest until a few years after birth, unless you were unnamed for the first five years of your life.”

Should’ve been, he bitterly thinks. Things would've been easier that way. 

He bites his tongue. 

The only sound that can be heard is the crunching of his teeth against the cracker he gnaws on. After a moment, he offers you one. You don’t move a muscle at his extended hand. He lets it sink back slowly, defeated, as he clears his throat. 

“It fits, doesn't it?”

It’s a rhetorical question, one he doesn’t actually expect you to answer. Because his name is all that’s known of him. Of course it should fit. Because when you look at him—his peeling and charred skin and hand that wields nothing but pain—it’s evident that all he can do is cremate.

His breath hitches when you speak up. 

“To some, sure,” you decide. 

With the way his chest tightens at your declaration, Dabi decides he doesn't like your tone. 

He shields himself with his bark. “What’s that mean?”

“It means I want to call you something different,” you ache, but Dabi can read between the cracks you let falter. I deserve to call you something different, is what your heart bleeds onto the floor. I’m different. 

He refuses to let that be the truth. 

“Didn't think you’d be one for pet names, doll.” He tosses the half-eaten box back into your cabinet, lazily shutting the wood and wiping his crumby hands on his sleeves. 

“I don’t see you how they see you,” your voice is stern now, he hears the determination in your shaky words. “I want to know your name.”

Your real one, the lines read once again. But in a split second, Dabi realizes he’s come too far to ruin whatever this is now.

“Fat chance in hell,” he dismisses, brushing your shoulder as he leaves the kitchen. 

You’re quick to follow—as you always are, he’s begun to notice. You're like a mosquito constantly buzzing in his ear. No matter how many times he swats and repels, you come back stronger. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t hate it. 

“Please.”

“No,” he’s even quicker to bore. “M’not dragging you into my shit.”

Too late, the voice in the back of his mind laughs. He’s always been his own worst enemy.

“There's more to you,” you continue to press, wanting something tangible, more from him. “You're not just what they make of you. You're a person, someone's son, someone’s–”

“Don't,” a balloon bursts behind his eyelids. His voice comes louder than ever before and it unsettles you, him, and the floorboards beneath your toes. 

“Don't you ever...fucking say that again. You hear me?” With his finger in your face, Dabi shakes. He prays to whoever is listening that you see it as fury, and not what it truly is—fear. 

And based on the tears flooding your eyes, he’d bet money he doesn't have that he’s right. In the silence of your home, you nod.

Dabi decides he’s had enough for one night, done enough to make you hate him just the right amount to forget about fixing him. 

On the way out, Dabi mumbles something that sounds a lot like, “Say something stupid like that one more time and you'll never see me again.” 

…

Dabi is exhausted.

His burner rings obnoxiously through the bedroom in the middle of the night. 

You’ve begun to associate the loud melody with the feeling of a knife—the blade cruelly trickling its tip against your skin. Cold, sharp, barely applying enough pressure to make you hyperaware of its potential to rip everything you've ever known away from you with a mere movement forward.

You never know who’s on the other end of the line, and this time is no different. When the infamous sound sends a chill up your spine, Dabi answers it without a second thought. He wordlessly picks up, listens intently, and hangs up as quickly as it rang. 

Then, he’s out of bed and putting his shoes on. 

He knows you're not asleep, so there's no point in pretending to be when you crawl out of bed and follow him to the den of your home. 

He grabs the remote, flicks the television on, and eagerly surfs the channels until he lands on the local news. Endeavor runs through the barren and obliterated streets of downtown, defending the city and fighting some… creature. You don't miss the way Dabi’s eyes don't blink whenever the hero is on screen. 

He’s too focused, too emotional when it comes to him. It's unlike anything you've ever seen from him, and you're tired of pretending not to see the smothering fire in his eyes whenever the man is brought into discussion. 

The reporter on the screen flips to another battle somewhere else in the city, with other heroes and other creatures and other things that should matter right now but for some reason don't. Because when Dabi finally takes his eyes off the screen to slip into his shoes, you spill. 

“Why him?”

He harshly tightens the laces of his boot, “Huh?”

“Endeavor,” falls from your lips, and he nearly hisses at the sound of the name on your tongue. “Why him out of all heroes?”

He hesitates in the slightest. The average eye wouldn't have noticed his pause, but you know him. You see the way he clenches his jaw and fiddles with the staples sealing his chin. 

He merely shrugs before tying his other lace, “He’s number one.”

“He wasn't always,” you contest, a bit too accusatory for his liking.

“Why does it matter?” Dabi bites. Bites the hand that feels him, shelters him, listens to him and chooses to remain quiet with what it knows. He bites the hand that loves him, and he almost regrets it when he sees your slight shock.

Almost.

His stomach churns as he watches you slightly falter before finding your footing once more. “It seems to matter to you.” 

So it matters to me, your heart aches to drill into his rock-solid mind. His eyes feel hot on your skin as he shakes his head and stands from where he sits. 

“He’s not a good guy, none of ‘em are.” 

“How do you know?”

His grip on his coat tightens in frustration. “I have a ton of shit on him. He’s not the savior you think he is.”

“I don’t think he’s a savior,” you retort, and it comes out a bit childish, like a belief you wish to convince yourself of. “I don’t know him.”

“But you trust him,” Dabi is quick to jump, almost as if you've fallen right into his trap. He looks a bit wild, as if you’re prey in his hands, saying all the right things so sweetly just for him to do what a predator does and hunt. Sink his teeth into your flesh and ruin you for the thrill of it. 

“Cause he’s the face of the fuckin’ country?” he coos with a venomously fake smile. “Cause he’s big and strong and always does the good thing, right?”

He’s trying to scare you, you know this—but you’ve never been scared of Dabi. Not when he’s tried to make you be, not when he’s done unspeakable things. He doesn’t scare you, but he’s upsetting you. He’s being mean, which isn't new to you but still rare enough to sting. 

“I trust you,” your voice cracks, making his stomach churn with shame, “so if you don’t trust him, then I trust you have a good reason not to.” 

Silence overtakes the room and Dabi’s chest burns with bile rising. 

You trust him? On what grounds? What reason has he given you to just hand over your patience without a fight, without a reason? 

Most importantly, if the thought of you trusting him makes him sick to his fucking stomach, then why does he find his lips moving before he can stop himself? 

“He beats his kids.”

The television cuts to a commercial. A car drives by below, honking furiously at something or other. He says it casually, eyes looking away from yours. 

Your voice is barely heard, “His kids?” 

You didn't even know he had kids. Come to think of it, you knew of one boy. Fire and ice who attends the hero facility downtown that's always getting into trouble. Set to follow in his father's footsteps, according to the tabloids. 

Dabi’s face doesn't falter at your surprise, immune to the violence he knows lives within his words. “Wife, too.”

The pieces don't add up in your mind. Dabi’s never been one for morals, not one for evening the tides and setting the universe straight when it comes to what's right and what's wrong. He does what he wants, he’s selfish. So why on earth would he care about a tragedy that doesn't involve him? 

He interrupts your thoughts when he walks over to the front door. The sound of him fiddling with the lock makes your heart drop—because it means he’s leaving, and for how long, you never know.

“Doesn’t anymore, apparently, but he did for years,” he scoffs in disgust. “Claims he’s turned a new leaf. Wants to be father of the year, all of a sudden.”

Leaving before you can process any thoughts to convey into words, he sneaks through your door without a second thought.

“The good guys aren't actually good, y’know,” he warns as he leaves you.

You don’t see him for two weeks. 

…

Dabi doesn't fuck you with caution. 

It's the same every time. Rough, quick, desperate. You on your stomach and him towering behind you. He doesn't look at you or say much other than a grunt or curse here and there. Always pulls out, if he even cums, and always leaves right after, if not in the middle of the night. 

But that doesn't mean it’s not good. Because fuck, it's great. 

While short-lived and based on nothing but selfish, primal needs, it's a private moment of feeling nothing but him. His hands are everywhere and his teeth are never too far behind. His skin is on fire and his pace is nothing short of eager. 

Your back is arched as your face is pressed to the mattress. You feel his cock throb as it swells against the insides of your walls with every rushed and eager thrust. 

“Fuck, please,” he hears you breathily whine, and you feel his smirk against the skin of your back. 

He uses your polite desperation to reward you, snap his hips extra hard and bury himself to the hilt of your cunt. He sits and burns inside of you, grip tight on your waist as he pulls you as close to him as he can without swallowing you whole. 

His tip dances directly at the opening of your cervix, just barely brushing the overly tender spot with a feather-light prodding that somehow feels like too much and not enough. He lets himself continue to stretch you, to mold you, to enjoy the only thing he believes was made for him before he ruins it. 

He feels you repeatedly clench around him as you mewl, “Please, more please.” You’re already completely spent when you plead, “Please, Dabi.”

And just like that, a switch is flipped inside of him.

His grip on your hips tightens, “Don’t.”

He goes to pull out of you completely, but your cry from his movement halts his hips. “Oh, nnnngh, Dabi—!”

In a whirl, you're flipped onto your back and met with a harsh gaze. 

“Don’t,” he growls into your throat, “call me that.”

Frozen in place from both shock and pure need, you airily gasp when you feel his cock head brushing itself through your folds. With a scarred wrist, Dabi swipes his tip between your folds, eyes fully absorbing and watching your expression twitch with every sensitive brush. 

“Touya,” he tells you through a slack jaw, watching your eyelids flutter at the teasing.

He pushes himself into your cunt, not fully, but enough for you to cry in slight release, before pulling out to where his tip is the only part of him swallowed by you. 

“Touya,” he repeats, nearly chanting as he aches to engrain it into your system. So it’s all you’ll ever know, the only word your tongue will ever taste from now on, no matter who is sticking what inside of you. He works to make your body remember that the only thing it should think of when feeling the slight stretch of your throbbing cunt is—

“Touya,” he bleeds. It almost doesn’t even sound like a word. “Say it. Touya.”

And you do. It crawls breathy and drunk from your throat as if your lips were made to form its syllables. Like a holy mantra falling from your lips, his whole body shivers when he hears your sweet heaves. 

“Touya,” is whimpered into his lips.

He holds his breath for a beat, before shakily recollecting himself from his quickly approaching high and readjusting his grip on your jaw.

“Again, fuck.” 

“Touya,” you gasp at his now snapping hips. It’s deeper, slower, and even more desperate than you thought it was before. It's messy and tired and he cradles you in his palms as you chant his name like a prayer.

Touya. Touya. Touya.

He abruptly finishes inside of you, his spurting warmth easily sending you over the edge, too. 

While it was something that was always offered, Touya has never once come inside of you, always choosing to pull out last second, if he finished at all. You savor the moment, letting him rut his cum into you until your both dry with exhaustion. 

Breathing returns to a normal rate and Touya lets himself soften inside of you. With his head burrowed in your neck, he makes a move to pull out of you. To leave, your chest tightens at the realization, so on instinct, you let your legs wrap around his torso, crossing your ankles and keeping him as your own for just a little bit longer.

Without a fight, he lets you. He lets himself stay inside of you as he drifts to sleep in your hold.

“Touya,” he hears you coo, listens to you taste it on your tongue and determine that you like its flavor.

“S’pretty,” you decide in a sleeping daze. “Fits you better.”

Dabi drifts to sleep thinking about the irony of that statement.

…

The puzzle pieces itself together rather quickly after that. 

It turns out Endeavor does have kids—four, to be exact. Three boys and a girl, all different equations of fire and ice and grief. 

It's not hard to find articles on what happened at Sekoto Peak. What happened to Touya Todoroki, the boy who died for nothing, who you now know somehow sits alive on your couch with a bowl of ramen noodles and a wet head.

He focuses on the television before him. A cheesy horror film from the late 80s plays through the grainy screen. His feet are resting on top of the coffee table and the bowl in his lap is steaming. He uses his chopsticks to dive in regardless of its heat. 

Sitting on the opposite end of the couch, you can smell your eucalyptus shampoo in his hair from where you sit. Though his head is still damp, you can tell the color has gotten lighter. While still practically jet black all over, you're able to see the slightest tint of light peeking through his roots. You know better than to ask, but you're sure your guess is as good as any. 

Touya must feel your gaze on him because his eyes flicker to the side where you quietly admire his profile. Through a mouthful of noodles and steaming broth, he mumbles. 

“What’re you doing?”

You smile at the lack of enunciation in his words before innocently shaking your head. “Nothing.”

Unconvinced, his eyes narrow. “Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” he accuses. 

You roll your eyes out of habit though your heart is anything but irritated, “What, I can’t look at you, now?”

He uses the next bite he takes to hide the smirk growing on his face. “Not with that stupid look on your face.”

He takes pride in watching you get flustered, scrunching your nose and giggling out a horrified, “What look?”

He reaches across the couch to close the gap between the two of you, before flicking your forehead.

“That look,” he declares.

He doesn't move back to where he was sitting. He lets himself remain next to you, your head lightly resting on his shoulder as the sound of the movie webs throughout your living room.

It’s easy, too easy. It’s natural and warm and feels like the closest thing to a home he’s ever held in his calloused and weeping palms. 

And Touya is selfish. 

He wants to grasp onto it, white-knuckled and pressing crescents into his palms—he wants to keep you. Wants to keep this. But he knows better. 

Touya knows that the stupid look on your face was one of love. Pure and undeniable. But he doesn't let himself think too much about it. 

…

The weather changes with the wind, and it’s colder in Japan when Touya gives you a piece of him you never thought you’d get. 

He’s just arrived back from god knows where doing god knows what, but you’ve learned not to question it. You welcome him in every time with a warm smile and an urge to hold him, and he thinks maybe thats why he hears himself suddenly spilling.

“Saw him today,” he breathes evenly.

His words hold no context, no prior conversation triggering his statement. It just exists in the space between the two of you on the couch, and the ball is in your court. 

Your head tilts in careful thought, “Who?”

“Downtown,” he ignores your question, “cornered him for a second and everything.”

And though you know nothing and shouldn’t be able to understand the man beside you, you do.

You feel his pain in the way his eyebrow twitches, how his fingers crack against his palms. You might not get it, but you try. You’ll always try for Touya. 

You encourage him, “And what happened?”

The wind howls outside, and you feel your home settle beneath its harsh hit. The walls crack with movement as the two of you remain seated beside one another. 

After a moment, Touya clears his throat. 

“Nothing,” he bitterly laughs to himself. “Absolutely nothing.”

The tea in your hand buzzes heat through its mug, and it feels like Touya’s touch. When he’s careful and cautious and places his hands on your stomach, treating you like glass he needs to mold. 

“Looked me dead in the eyes, felt my fuckin’ flame, and—” he cuts himself off at the emotion crawling into his words with a cough, “and nothing.”

You say nothing, but Touya knows that nothing needs to be said. He can sit on his couch with the tea you made him and the look you're giving him and he knows he can trust you. As much as he doesn't want to, he can. 

With his head hung low in shame, he rips off the only bandaid he’s ever had for the deepest wound he never got the chance to properly clean.

“He’s my old man,” he harshly swallows. 

After a moment of silence, he drags his head up from the floor. 

You're still looking at him the same, eyes dancing with love and some sick want to understand him. 

You simply reach across the cushion and squeeze his hand. 

“I know,” you whisper. 

And in what Touya imagined to be an earth-shattering conversation, he feels the corner of his mouth pulling upwards into an ironic smile.

“’Course you do,” he laughs under his breath. It's not malicious or accusatory, it's a matter of fact. 

Because of course, you know. Of course, you would see through his master puppetry and barring fangs. Of course, it wouldn't change how you see him.

Of course.

In what should be a terrifying moment, Touya lets himself smile. He shakes his head as he sighs, “Father of the fuckin’ year, right?”

…

“M’gonna do something,” Touya tells you solemnly one afternoon in bed, “and you’re gonna hate me for it.”

The freshly setting sun shines through the window, and you can feel its heat warming up your legs through the frame. The rays feel oddly contrasting to his cloudy day words. 

You open your eyes to find his. They’re already looking back at you, glasslike as they flicker across your features. Like he’s searching for something neither of you have an answer to. 

Your foot brushes against his calf as you shift to face him. 

“I could never hate you,” you softly remind him, “you know that.”

Touya fights the urge to roll his eyes, and you bite back a smile at the agitation wrinkles forming on his forehead. Your fingers move without thinking, using your thumb to iron and smooth over his delicate skin. 

“Fine,” he huffs, but you don’t miss the way he softens beneath your touch.

 “I’m gonna do something and you’re gonna yell at me for it,” he follows up more gentle this time, like a tainted whisper afraid to be too loud in the honeyed quietness of your home. 

It fills your stomach with a familiar sense of unease. 

“Well, do you deserve to be yelled at?”

He softly smiles, one equal parts of happy and sad, “Probably.”

You return the look as you sit on his words. He’s treading lightly, which is a thoughtful change compared to his usual acting on impulse.

He’s cautioning you. Preparing you for something bitter, and while you appreciate the warning, you know it can’t be anything good. It feels a lot like the breathtaking sunset before a disastrous overnight storm. 

Your voice is a whisper when you meekly ask him, “Can you tell me any more?”

And though the look on his face is regretful, his answer comes all the same. 

“No,” he swallows. 

And like the saint you are, Touya doesn’t know why he’s surprised when you merely bob your head in understanding and smile.

“Okay,” you nod.  

You expect that to be all. Because Touya’s never been one for words, let alone more than the bare minimum amount needed. And you were deemed lucky enough to get a vague warning. 

That should be the end of the conversation, but it’s not. 

Touya reaches for your wrist and his fingers dance along the bone lightly. He doesn’t remove his eyes from where they bore into yours when he breathes. 

“M’sorry.”

The words are foreign on his tongue, and his smallness unsettles you. Something feels wrong, like nausea brewing and waiting for bile to finally strike. 

You sit up, cradling his face in your palms as you coo words of reassurance. He feels cold, his body temperature ironically contrasting the heat that runs through his veins. He’s trying so hard to keep whatever he knows inside the clear cage of his mind, but you can practically hear the cracking of the glass beneath it’s weight. 

“Hey, no,” you exhale between kisses to his hairline. “No, don’t start that shit.”

Because while he doesn’t tell you everything, Touya tells you enough, and it’s more than you ever thought would be true with someone as out of reach as him. 

He may not tell you he loves you, but he says it through his eyes. He doesn’t tell you how he has so much respect for you it could swallow him whole, but sometimes, in the glimpse of his stolen glances, you can feel it. 

He can’t tell you what he’s going to do, but he can tell you he’s sorry. And that is something in and of itself. 

Touya closes his eyes at the affection. He wishes he could freeze time and savor this moment forever. Keep it as a souvenir to place on his shelf and keep him company on lonely nights to come. He doesn’t want it to end, doesn’t want to be anywhere else that isn't here, right now, with you.  

He does his best to soak in how your lips feel against his as you promise, “We’ll figure it out, yeah?”

But he’s not so sure, because while you think he’s apologizing for not being able to tell you more, Touya is apologizing for the hell he knows is to come. 

…

He’s dead. He has to be dead.

The screen in front of you feels like a cruel joke as it flashes clips of the scene. Not Dabi, but Touya, on national television—spewing venom to the entire country with a smile. . 

He speaks slowly, solemnly, like he's thought this through. Like he’s rehearsed and planned this all along. He speaks like a spiraling politician, and it cuts like a blade in your back.

You think about the television screens across the city right now.

A family whose gameshow night got rudely interrupted. A cafe whose workers are making their final lattes for the night, sweeping the floors and washing the counters as his rambling mindlessly plays in the background. You wonder if anybody is home at the Todoroki residence, if the television is on, or if it was unplugged years ago.

Touya is dead, and he warned you. 

That’s why he did this, why he planned this to unfold the way it did. He told you that you’d hate him, and like a fool, you told him he was wrong. 

A knock on the door is barely heard over your heavy breathing, and you debate on answering it.

It has to be the police, or maybe even a hero—looking for you, now an accomplice blinded by a mirror you thought was a window.

Your brain starts to spiral with thoughts that make your chest heave.

Did Touya turn himself in? Go down without a fight? Did someone see him leave your home? Had they known this entire time? 

Maybe they were waiting for the right moment to strike, for the dominoes to ripple so they can make their move when you’re too weak to defend yourself. Maybe he double-crossed you, blamed whatever he could on you before driving a getaway car in the opposite direction of your apartment. Maybe he never cared at all—maybe the realest thing you’d ever known was orchestrated from beginning to end. 

Another knock comes, this time more urgent and harsh. And there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable—so with tear-stained cheeks and shaking shoulders, you open the door.

And it’s Touya.

With white hair and soggy clothes, he stands in the hallway of your crumby apartment complex.

You want to laugh at the irony of it all. The first time he uses your actually door instead of window, he's a new man.

New hair, new name, a new look in his eye—one that swims of something you can't put your finger on. He’s alive and in front of you, and regardless of the anger overflowing your cup, you need to feel him.

So you pull him through the threshold, inside of your home, and against your skin. You feel the wet leather of his jacket, and smell the ash from the battle mixed with the coffee he had before he left this morning. 

He’s here, and you love him.

“I hate you,” your cries vibrate against his chest as you weakly push and punch at his shoulders. “I hate you, I fucking hate you.”

Touya lets you sob into his shirt. It’s covered in your tears and blood that’s not his. He lets you thrash and scream and crumple beneath his hold. 

He wants to say I told you so. I told you you’d hate me. 

“How could you do that,” he makes out between your hyperventilating and sobs, “how could you do that to me?”

His throat restricts with tears that can’t come as you melt against his body, “I would have never done that to you.”

“I’m sorry,” Touya breathes, and he repeats it. Says it again and again and again until it all bleeds together into nothing but syllables and sobs. 

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m home, and I’m sorry. 

…

The bedroom is cold, the window slightly cracked open as Touya shuffles your quilted blanket off of his clammy body.

He always runs a bit hot at night, though he’s ironically ice to the touch when his quirk isn’t at work. 

Now on top of your comforter, his scarred palm lays open to you. He flinches every now and then as you delicately draw shapes into it with a painted fingernail. His eyes are closed, but he’s able to recognize the swirling form of your movements, the same ones you’ve drawn every night since he came back home to you.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt this at peace. 

After everything, he’s still here. And not only is he still here, but he’s okay with that, because he’s with you. 

“I've never—” he hesitates, but the darkness illuminating the room gives him a surge of confidence. 

“I've never had this,” his voice is pained, nearly softer than silence itself.  

He feels your finger stop swirling for a moment, but it resumes just as quickly as it halted. He feels you alter your pattern, and with cleaner lines and softer edges, he’s able to recognize the heart you doodle on his skin.

“Had what?” you gently ask.

“A home,” Touya breathes, before correcting himself, “where I’m wanted.”  

You smile and Touya feels so loved he nearly makes himself sick. He feels so held, so wanted, so right in your bed and beneath your delicate fingertips. 

The stranger in your home. The outlaw who smells of your perfume. The boy who never got a second chance, but the man who got a third.

Touya has so much love for you that he doesn't know where to put it all.

But for a moment, when he looks at your smile and feels your fingertip tracing his palm, he sees it as you offering your open arms to hold any excess he can’t carry. 

He feels you grin against the scarring of his wrist. 

“Well,” you kiss the tender spot where skin meets stitching, “you might wanna get used to it.”