#because the second he lets his guard down

[uniasus]

Bruce doesn't like meeting members from JLD as Bruce instead of Batman, but he doesn't have much of a choice. Doesn't have much to contribute to the fight either.

Jasmine Nightingale original attack had been devastating, a cat five hurricane released on the Hall of Justice whose concentrated power pulverized stone. Heroes died, some quick, some not. Only Zatanna had seen it coming, seconds before the lightening strike.

J'onn had responded with a blast from the Watchtower.

The energy beam had made the Ghost Queen stumble, but ultimately she had absorbed the blast and turned it back on the Justice League, lightening downing flyers from the sky. Clark had dropped quickly, denting part of the collapsed roof.

The Ghost Queen wielded magic, more than anyone else on Earth. Worse, when Diana had tried to get a hit in, Zatanna had stepped up to protect Jasmine.

That fight had been the first of three, each one devastating to the League and people of Earth. Jasmine Nightingale did not care about her civilians and some of her ghostly allies took glee in attacking them. Few people in the League could stand up to the Realms forces. None could win a fight.

And JLD fights for the ghosts.

Hence, Bruce Wayne and John Constantine planning a meet in a dive bar in Kansas. It's too removed from population centers for Jasmine to target, and Bruce and John can blend in well enough.

Bruce watches John slink in, collar up. He looks more wan than usual, and he unexpectedly has a kid with him. Bruce does his best to not look at Jason and Dick, not talking in a booth across the bar. Something about the ghost army calls to Jason, and he's developed a sixth sense to tell if they're near. Bruce wonders if the kid with John is the same.

Bruce pulls on his wrist in an overhead stretch, and John sees him. He marches over, nervous in a way that's unfamiliar. Bruce doesn't like it.

John sits across from him, kid on the outside edge of the booth. Before he can ask, the waiter is there. Bruce orders around of water for the table, and the kid pips up asking for a milkshake. Bruce let's him.

As soon as he can, Bruce leans forward to hide their conversation. "I need you to explain right now why JLD is not fighting for Earth."

"We are. Sorta," John insists.

"There's at least a dozen photos of Zatanna fighting side by side with the Ghost Zone. I've seen you summon at least two demons. Captain Marvel seems to be her rear guard -" the boy coughs. Bruce eyes him before continuing. "So please, explain."

John runs a hand through his hair. "My personal situation aside...a few things you should know. First, having Dark's help? Wouldn't win this war. Jasmine Nightingale is Queen Regent of the Infinite Realms and Earth? Part of her realms. The only reason we're not cooked is because she's looking for someone."

"Her younger brother."

"Right. Zatanna figured it'd be in Earth's best interest, long term, for the Realms to know not everyone is against them and to separate us from the League. Because the second thing you should know? The League does have her brother."

Bruce frowns.

The kid pulls out a file from his hoodie pocket. It's bent, but Bruce recognizes the file. He blanches.

It's one of the first prisoners files the League has. Someone near Chicago had called in a glowing boy causing trouble, and the League had captured him. He'd been a mystery, hard to contain and hard to capture on film. J'onn couldn't understand his mind, and he'd been difficult to communicate with. Bruce remembers hours trying to understand him, only to come to the conclusion that he'd been something mimicking a teen. It's been years since he thought about him, but the blurry prisoner photo has the same quality as those in the news featuring Jasmine Nightingale.

The file states he's still a prisoner, ten years after his first capture. The log records says no one has visited him in three years.

He's still locked in a cell, twenty feet below the Hall of Justice in a prison block that's been abandoned.

"Jazz," the kid says, "came to Earth and followed a sense to find him at the Hall. That sense disappeared when she destroyed it."

"There's lock down protocols to prevent escape. I bet they activated as soon as she attacked, blocking her ability to find him."

"You think he's still there?" John asks. "She thinks you're hiding him, purposefully keeping him trapped."

"I," Bruce swallows. He'd thought the poltergeist a human mimic, a devious being unwilling to talk and stubborn enough to resist interrogation. Now, he realizes the prisoner was most likely scared and lost.

"I forgot about him," Bruce whisperer. "We never keep prisoners very long unless they're dangerous."

"He is," the kid says. "Once crowned, he'll have more power than Jazz."

"But he never displayed that when we captured him. We..."

John leans forward. "You wanna know Zatanna's plan to win this war before it stretches out any further? The League digs up Prince Daniel and hands him over. You surrender."

"We're the scapegoat," Bruce whisperers. Because JLD could have noticed Daniel and free him early. They could have negotiated. They could have fought against the ghosts. Zatanna could have stood in the way of Jasmine's first storm.

"She sees you as the enemy and JLD as allies," the kid says. "And her control over the Realms limits what some of us can do," he looks over at John and Bruce wonders if one of his soul contacts is with the Queen of Ghosts.

"She could destroy Earth in a day," the kid rubs a hand down his face and Bruce stares, trying to place it, "destroying the Justice League is less damage."

"Plus," John adds, "You do have her brother."

Bruce knows part of being Batman means putting his life on the line, but this is so much bigger.

"Can we negotiate terms of surrender?"

The kid nods. "Captain Marvel is willing. John can't and Zatanna is too close to Jazz. We don't want her to feel betrayed or that we've been hiding things from her."

Bruce nods. If Jasmine wants the entire League as recomputence, than JLD will be Earth's only defense.

Minimizing damage has never been this difficult. "I'll talk to the others."

"Send a bird to Fawcett with your terms."

The "Prisoner" of the Justice League

DP x DC Prompt

Near the beginning of the Justice League's time, they had acquired a 'prisoner' of sorts. The 'prisoner' is an entity that Mimics a human teenage boy. They have snow white hair that flows as if in the wind or underwater, and they wear a mostly black and white hazmat suit with a stylized D on their chest.

Batman was the only one who had interrogation skills, so he was the go-to for interrogation for their 'prisoner'. Batman had remained in the underground cell block in the Hall of Justice for hours before returning, the sounds of the 'prisoner' banging against his cell continues, with Batman saying he couldn't get anything out of their 'prisoner'.

Things get really busy for the Justice League after Batman attempts to interrogate their 'prisoner' a few more times. It gets so busy that everyone slowly forget that they have a 'prisoner' since his banging had stopped after half a year in their cell. Even Batman, who has become a 'Tired Dad,' forgot about the prisoner under the Hall of Justice.

When JLD is formed, they are told that they can't help out much, as the entirety of JLD is searching for the missing Prince of the Infinite Realms, which causes them to not be near the Hall of Justice.

A couple of years after the emergence of the newest Robin and Superman's son is when the Justice League is reminded of their 'Prisoner'.

Jasmine Nightingale, the Ghostly Queen Regent of the Infinite Realms, had come to their world in search of her brother, the Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms. She followed the faint bond she had with her brother, and the League members were baffled that it led them to the Hall of Justice, specifically, the cell block where their 'Prisoner' is, who still looks like a teenage boy, despite how many years past.

[come-as-you-are-111]

Touchy boy

Warnings: Nothing! Just fluff!

You had entered the games in an attempt to get out of the debt you were drowning in.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You had promised yourself since red light, green light, you wouldn’t get attached—that you’d keep your head down, play smart, and survive.

And then there was Nam-Gyu.

From the moment you met, he’d been unbelievably touchy. At first, you chalked it up to nerves—maybe he was just the type who needed physical reassurance to stay calm. But then it became routine.

The way his arm would sling over your shoulder when you went to collect your food from the guards.

The way he’d always find some excuse to sit close, knees touching when you guys sat on the steps to the bunks.

The way, after a particularly brutal game (Mingle), he had found you sitting against the wall, shaking, and wordlessly pulled you into his chest—his chin resting against the top of your head, his arms wrapped tight around you like he could shield you from everything.

“Just breathe,” he had murmured. “We’re still alive.”

And you let him. Because, somehow, his touch made everything feel a little less terrifying.

Now, as the next game looms closer, you sit together in the dimly lit dormitory, the hum of tension thick in the air. The beds around you are mostly empty, scattered players keeping to themselves, whispering anxiously about what horrors tomorrow might bring.

Nam-Gyu is lying beside you, one arm draped lazily over your stomach, his fingers tracing random patterns against your shirt. It should feel too close, too intimate for a place like this, but it doesn’t. It feels… grounding.

“You okay?” he asks, voice quieter than usual.

You exhale. “Not really.”

He shifts, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you. His brows knit together, concern flickering across his face.

“You have that look again.”

You blink. “What look?”

“The one that says you’re planning to do something stupidly self-sacrificial tomorrow,” he mutters.

You scoff. “I don’t—”

“You do,” he cuts in, eyes narrowing. “And I get it. You want to play smart, keep your team safe, but you can’t just throw yourself into danger every time. Not when—”

He stops himself.

Not when what?

The unspoken words hang between you, thick as the tension in the room.

And then—softly, like he’s testing the waters—he reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers.

“You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” he murmurs.

Your throat tightens.

Because somewhere along the way, this stopped being just about survival. Somewhere along the way, he became the only reason you still had something to fight for.

A sudden noise—a shout from across the dorm—breaks the moment. Players on both sides, arguing and yelling obscenities at each other.

Nam-Gyu sighs, rolling onto his back but keeping his fingers laced with yours. “I hate this place,” he mutters.

You squeeze his hand. “Me too.”

Silence settles again, heavier now. You should sleep—both of you should—but neither of you move.

“Hey,” Nam-Gyu mumbles after a beat. “If we get out of here…”

You turn your head to look at him.

“…What?”

His grip on your hand tightens. “Let’s go somewhere far. Somewhere warm. Somewhere we don’t have to look over our shoulders every second.”

Your chest aches. “You really think we’re gonna get out of this?”

He shifts again, eyes locking onto yours—serious, determined. “Yea, that’s why we’re voting X tomorrrow.”

And for the first time since you got here, you let yourself believe him.

A/n: Hi my lil monsters! How we likey? Felt like writing a fluffy ass Nam-Gyu fic since everyone thinks my baby is a asshole 😔

Love ya, Twilight

Taglist:

@amoristt @lousypotatoes @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun

Squid game taglist:

@amoristt @lousypotatoes @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @takuma-talkz

[sangwookisser]

⭒AFTER HOURS- HWANG JUN-HO⭒

cw: switch dynamics, fighting, choking, piv, fem! reader, guard! reader, this is a bit non canon as junho already got his square mask before confronting you, creampies, praise, choking, not beta'd

a/n: thanos pt. 2 in the works cuties send me asks on what you'd like to see him do to you!

You screwed up today.

You'd worked here so long that every time you'd shot a player, or moved a body, or ordered a circle mask to clean up the area after a game, it felt unconscious, like a menial chore. Perhaps you'd gotten too careless and forgotten your place, because you'd frozen on the spot when a player, a woman, young and pleading and desperate, had crawled against your leg and pleaded with you to let her live after she'd cracked a side on her star Dalgona.

You froze.

A careless mistake. She'd taken your hesitation as an opportunity to grab your rifle and wrench it from your hands, trying to shoot you in the head and missing, before she managed to hit a soldier in the arm that'd been rushing over to pry the weapon from her hands. The entire playground was a mess now, with yells of terror and people cracking their Dalgona due to stress, all because of you.

Now you were following a very tall, quiet square guard to a private room, only meant for very important matters. no cameras are placed in here. He locks the door behind you and turned to face you. You hung your head, fighting the urge to wring your hands.

"Look at me."

You look up at the sound of a deep, distorted voice, placing your hands behind your back so you could hide the way they're shaking. He doesn't move, watching you through the thick black plastic of his mask, assessing you.

"Explain."

You inhale shakily, unable to hide your nervousness. You knew that you wouldn't have been brought here if you weren't about to receive a terrible punishment. There was no one watching, and the games were long over for the day. You pause for a moment, trying to find your voice, but he speaks again.

"Do you forget yourself, soldier? You answer promptly when asked to. The longer you try to wrack your brain to find a reason why you fucked up today, the less ill believe your stupid excuses."

You bristle at the condescending tone of his voice. You don't like being spoken to in such a way, even if its by a superior. Still, you can't come up with a good reason as to why you froze. Perhaps you'd seen a glimmer of yourself in the way the woman pleaded and searched for mercy.

You were weak and vulnerable once too. She'd cracked a part of the walls you'd built up around yourself to try and make killing players easier. "I'm just trying to collect myself, sir." You say, your tone a little too sharp for his liking.

"Collect yourself?" Jun-ho says in return. "I'm not playing games with you, soldier."

"And neither am I," You snap back, frustrated and scared enough to act with your emotions and not logically. You're not thinking about the repercussions of talking back to a superior. "I made one mistake in the five years I've been here, and you're just attacking m-"

"Take off your mask."

The order sent a chill down your spine. You weren't ever supposed to show your face around here, not even to your superiors. It usually meant you were about to take a bullet to the head.

You look around anxiously to try and spot any cameras, but most of them are turned off for this location since it is meant to be vacant right now. You step back and finally speak.

"S-sir, I can't. It's against policy."

"Don't give me any more bullshit. Take off your mask. that's an order." You grit your teeth but don't budge, refusing to go along with the inevitable that happens when you show your face. He growls and raises his hand, his pistol at your head in a second. "Now, triangle."

You let out a shaky exhale and reluctantly peel off your mask, letting it drop to the floor, along with the balaclava underneath.

There's a tense moment of silence as he looks you over, and he nearly groans in appreciation of how cute you are. Jun-ho expected an old hag with nothing to lose, not... you.

His eyes roam over the wide, sparkly eyes staring up at him and the soft frown on your face, as well as the way your lashes skim your cheekbones when you blink, your soft, pretty hair, your full lips...

You take his hesitation as an opportunity and knock the gun out of his hands, shoving him back and debating on running or staying to fight him.

He lunges to grab you, and you aim a kick to his chest to try and steer him off course again, but he grabs your ankle and kicks the back of your other leg to make you crumple. You curse, reeling back a bit as you stand straight again, punching his stomach to make him let go of you.

He grunts, but doesn't relent, so you aim a few more punches to his chest and stomach, but he grabs your arm and twists it, letting go of your leg and shoving you against the wall of the room, pressing your chest against the wall. You scowl, struggling fervently, but its hard to when he's a head taller and has the strength of a gorilla.

He pauses for a bit, smug at how easy it was to beat you when you had the advantage of disorienting him by making the first move.

"There, was that so hard? You're making me feel like a monster. Pretty girls like you deserve to be worshipped, not roughhoused like this." You growl at the implication, aching to demand what exactly he means, but you figured that if you play into the act a little bit, you might be able to get your advantage back.

You sniffle, making the slightly-exaggerated sounds of someone about to cry. "I-I know sir," You choke out, your voice breaking. "I... I d-didn't mean for it to come to this, I just... d-don't wanna b-be punished or killed for one mistake, I didn't mean to hesitate today, really. P-please don't kill me..." You make the soft sounds of crying, trying to imitate the feeling of desperation and hopelessness.

His heart aches uncomfortably, and he feels your little body shaking with tears. He feels bad now. He just meant to scare you a bit so he could get information about this place, but you attacked him, so he had to do this to you. But it feels wrong. He can imagine your sweet little face scrunched up and flushed with tears, and he sighs, turning you around slowly so he can help wipe your face and soothe you.

You don't wait a second, delighted that your plan worked to some degree, enough that he was willing to let go of you long enough for you to drive your knee straight into his crotch.

"Fuck!" he curses, doubling over. "Shit, you fucking maniac!" You get the rifle off your back that all triangles are equipped with, astounded that he didn't disarm you at the first opportunity, and you shove the barrel under his chin.

"On your knees, square." You sneer at him, and he grits his teeth, dropping down to his knees with his hands raised.

"You're fucking crazy." He says angrily, panting as he massages his aching privates, his gaze roaming over your pretty face, and he scoffs, in disbelief that he, a trained cop, ended up in this situation.

"Now you take off your mask too. So we're in this together." You say coldly, nudging the gun at his neck. He freezes for a bit. He didn't know what you'd do if you found out he was a stowaway posing as a guard, and so he hesitated, but with a gun to his face, what more could he do?

Slowly, he took off his mask, letting the black plastic clatter to the floor as he pushed thick black hair out of his eyes, eying you warily.

You too, as he did, paused for a minute at the sight of his face. You didn't expect your manager to be so handsome. His features were soft and handsome, like some pretty boy you'd see on TV, not at your feet with your rifle to his head.

"Who are-"

He took a dive for your legs, realizing he couldn't go through the process of revealing everything to you. Even showing you his face was going too far. You squealed, tumbling to the ground, and he stuck his hand under your head so you wouldn't crack it open under the concrete, and he quickly straddled you, putting one hand around your throat and moving the other to hold your hands together above your head.

"The hell's your problem, huh?" He sneered, holding you down without much struggle even as you thrashed under him. "You don't listen. If you just shut up and answered a few questions, you'd be out of here in no time."

You choke, panting a bit, and he squeezes your neck a little tighter, fascinated at the way your cheeks warm and your eyes darken. His cock twitches a bit in his pants, excited by the way you look so helpless. The way you're squirming under him and rubbing your body unintentionally against his dick isn't helping. It's already tender from you hitting it with your knee earlier, and his hypersensitivity is just riling him up more and more.

"Shit..." He murmurs, loosening his grip just enough for you to get a big gulp of air, before he puts the same pressure on your neck once more.

"I'm not afraid of you," you hissed, despite the nervous flutters in your stomach. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours.

"I don't care. You put yourself in this situation, and now look where you are." He mocks you, no longer caring about your feelings after your earlier deception. Your lips press together in a scowl.

You let out an infuriated growl, trying to shift your body up to attack him, maybe bite him, but he slams you back down with his grip around your neck. Your vision sparkles around the corners, and you pant, gasping weakly for air, and he lets go just before you pass out.

"Let... me go." You wheeze, inhaling unsteadily. He leans closer, about to say more, when you shove your lips against his. It's not a good tactic, and you hate doing it, but it's a last resort, and you needed to wind him so you could get your upper hand back.

To your disbelief, he moans, his grip on you loosening so he can lean down and kiss you deeply. He's pleasantly surprised, to say the least.

You're gorgeous, of course, and with the soft taste of strawberries that linger on your mouth, he's not complaining at all. He squeezes your face in his hands, rubbing his tongue over your lips to try and coax your mouth to open. You grit your teeth, annoyed by how enjoyable this is.

His lips are soft, and he's good at kissing. You enjoy the way he parts his lips and slots his mouth over yours to search for the best angle. However, you try to stay present enough to try and find the right moment to throw him off you. He, however, was lost. He's managed to get his tongue in your mouth, and he groans at your taste, one hand going to stroke your hair softly as he rolls his tongue over yours slowly and sloppily, almost savoring the feeling.

You grunt, squirming a bit as his long tongue pushes deeper in your mouth. He's getting way too excited for someone who was just trying to suffocate you, and you start to worry that you made a mistake by riling him up like this.

Your suspicions are confirmed when you feel something hard and thick poke your thighs, and he lets out a full-blown moan into your mouth, his hips beginning to rut against you. You've had enough. With as much effort you can muster, you bite his lip hard enough for it to be uncomfortable, and he lets out a yelp, smoothing his tongue over his now bleeding lip.

You desperately try to push him off you. His eyes are wide and shiny, like a puppy aching for a treat, and he pants a bit, before frowning. "I want more," He says gruffly, upset at your denial. He leans down, wanting to kiss you again, but you hook your legs around him and flip him over, using the element of surprise to your advantage.

He tries his best to try and buck you off, but once you get his hands pinned beside his head, he stops struggling, staring up at you with wide, glassy eyes, his breath coming out in tiny gasps.

"W-wha..." He starts weakly, but you tug his hair to shut him up. He doesn't oblige, moaning at the feeling and returning to humping you, his hips thrusting up against your ass as you straddle him.

"Stop it," You hiss angrily. "Acting like a fucking dog, have some shame."

He doesn't listen, his hands clenching into fists as he aches with the need to touch.

"F-fuck me..." he breathes out, and you try to put your hand over his mouth to shut him up, but you can still hear his loud groans as he ruts against you, dry humping you through his pants. "Fuck me, please." He insists. You squeeze his wrists with frustration, pissed off by his excessive neediness, but you start to lift his shirt, your hair tickling his cheek as you lean down. You pull it above his head, reveling in the sight of his soft, creamy white skin, and plush pink nipples.

He shivers as the cool air of the room hits his skin, and you slowly start to drag your fingers up his chest.

Unfortunately for you, that, paired with the constant feeling of his clothed cock rubbing against the juicy fat of your ass causes him to still, and he tears his hands out of your grip with little to no effort, places them on your butt, and rubs you fervently against his dick until his hips stutter, and he squeezes you tight.

"Oh G-god... mmh, fuck, fuck... fuck... 'm cumming, im cumming now..."

You can feel him throbbing against you as the sticky liquid of his cum stains his pants. You look down at him as he slumps down, keening loudly as he tries to catch his breath. his chest heaves hard.

You look down at him in shock, scowling down at him. "You dirty little..."

He doesn't let you finish your words, flipping you over.

Panting harshly, he loomed over you, his eyes wild with desperate, primal hunger. His large hands roamed feverishly over your curves, grasping and squeezing at the fabric of your guard uniform as if trying to rip them away from your body. "Please, baby... I need... I need to feel you... all of you..." he babbled, his voice ragged with urgency.

Fumbling fingers made quick work of the zippers, scattering them haphazardly across the floor. Jun-ho's breathing grew louder, more labored, as more and more of the your soft, supple skin was revealed to his ravenous gaze. "Please... let me... let me see you... touch you... taste you..." he begged, his words spilling out in a whining, desperate litany.

Hie hips undulated, grinding his clothed erection against the your core, seeking some measure of relief from the throbbing ache that consumed him. "I'm so fucking... so fucking desperate for you..." he whined, his hands finally succeeding in baring your breasts to his hungry eyes.

"My god... look at you... so fucking perfect..." Jun-ho dipped his head, peppering your newly exposed skin with desperate, open-mouthed kisses and sharp nips. You moan, squirming under him at the unfamiliar yet desirable sensation. He's worshipping you, obsessing over your body

"Tell me... tell me you want it too..." he urged breathlessly between kisses, his hands roaming lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, your panties. "Tell me you need my cock...almost as much as I need to be inside your tight, wet little cunt..."

His desperation was palpable, his body trembling with the force of his desire as he awaited your response, praying you would give him the green light to plunge forward and claim you. He shoves his pants down, his slick cock, tender from his recent orgasm, hits his belly, and you try to sit up.

"Fuck, you bastard, get off," You try to protest, to hide how bad you want it despite the risk of you losing your job or being killed for doing something so reckless and idiotic. But your pussy can't hide how you crave to have his fat cock deep inside you.

His mouth watered at the intoxicating scent of your arousal, ripe and heady and consuming. He lavishes your breasts with desperate, open-mouthed kisses, his tongue swirling around one stiff peak, lapping and suckling greedily, before switching to its twin, determined to taste every inch of your succulent flesh. You cry out, keening dumbly. You hate how good it feels.

"Mmm... you taste... fuck, you taste incredible..." he praises between slurping kisses, sending vibrations tingling through your skin.

Below, Jun-ho's aching cock jerked and throbbed against your soaked pussy. Each twitch of his sensitive flesh against your core drew a guttural groan from the man's throat, and a soft whine from you, his hips rutting instinctively, chasing more of that exquisite friction.

"You're so pretty," he panted, the words tumbling out in a desperate, incoherent jumble.

He could feel the heat radiating off your cunt, could sense your body's readiness, yet still you held back, trying to retain some semblance of control.

He whimpered in frustration, his cock pulsing urgently against you as he gazed up at you with pleading, lust-glazed eyes. "Tell me... fuck, tell me you want it too..." he rasped, his voice breaking on the desperate words. "I can't... I can't hold back much longer..."

For a moment, you remained silent, your expression an unreadable mask. But then, with a sharp inhale and a barely audible hiss of air through gritted teeth, you finally uttered the word he craved to hear. "Yes... " you gasped, your voice tight with barely restrained desire. "Yes, I... I want it..."

Relief crashed through him like a tidal wave, and he released a shuddering sigh, his body relaxing slightly as the tension drained from his muscles.

And then, with a careful, deliberate movement, he positions the dripping, weeping tip of his cock at the entrance to your pussy.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he began to press forward, his hips inching closer, the sensitive crown of his cock parting your slick, swollen folds, eliciting a shaky gasp from you as your hands fly to his broad shoulders.

"Ohhh... fuck..." He groans, his voice a low, drawn-out rumble as he felt the exquisite, silken walls of your pussy clenching around the invading head of his dick.

You're so incredibly tight, so deliciously snug, that he had to pause. The sensation was almost too much to bear, the way your body resisted, then yielded, then resisted again, as if trying to suck him in deeper, to swallow him whole.

His hands clench on your hips, fingers digging into the supple flesh hard enough to leave bruises. Sweat beads on his brow as he focused all his concentration, every ounce of his willpower, on the slow, tortuous process of sinking into you.

Inch by excruciating inch, he invaded you, feeling your slick, plush walls flutter and clench around his sensitive cock, as if trying to draw him impossibly deeper.

"Goddamn... " Jun-ho groans, his breath coming in harsh, tortured pants as he finally bottomed out, his pelvis flush against yours, causing his heavy, full balls to nestle perfectly into the curve of your ass.

He could feel every ridge, every vein, every throbbing, pulsing beat of his flesh as it was engulfed in your sloppy little pussy. It took every shred of his control not to cum then and there, to spill his seed deep inside you. "Atta girl... squeeze me just like that..." He murmurs lowly, beginning to withdraw, feeling your walls drag against him, before plunging back in, starting a deep, deliberate rhythm.

Unwillingly, your composure starts to waver, your cool demeanor cracking. Soft, breathy moans leave your lips insistently, making his cock twitch inside you. "Y-you sound so pretty, you know that?" He chokes out through moans, thrusting steadily into you. "So good... S-so good for me, baby. I got you."

He talks you through it, feeling you flutter and clench around his sensitive flesh, as if trying to draw him even deeper. "Shit... fuck... so fucking tight..." he grunted, his hips pumping in a slow, deep rhythm that had your body jerking and bouncing beneath him.

You could feel your mind starting to go fuzzy, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind as the pleasure mounted. "T-too deep, so deep..." you say, your words slurring together as you struggled to form coherent sentences.

Your fingers scrabbled at his back, nails digging into his sweat-slicked skin as you clung to him, anchoring yourself against him. Jun-ho could feel your body starting to tremble, could sense the desperation building in your touch and your breathy little cries. They spurred him on, urging him to thrust harder and deeper.

"That's it... fuck... take it... take my cock... take every fucking inch..." he growled, his voice a low, feral rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His mind could barely process the feeling of your pussy clenching around his cock, watching the way he'd stretch you out with every thrust.

The obscene sound of your arousal filled his ears, each deep, powerful thrust eliciting a lewd plap, plap, plap as your dripping walls struggled to accommodate his girth. "Fuck, listen to her... listen to your greedy little pussy sucking me in. She doesn't want me to go anywhere, does she? Wants my cum to fill her right up." he bends down, panting hotly against your neck, his lips and teeth and tongue working over your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of marks and kisses.

He could feel you trembling, could sense you trying to hide your face in the crook of your shoulder, no doubt an instinctive move to hide how good you feel, but he would not allow it. He hooks his hand under your chin, tilting your face back towards him, forcing you to meet hungry gaze. "Don't you hide from me now," he cooed, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want to see your cute little face."

You whimper, a deep blush covering your cheeks as you were forced to confront the his blatant, almost reverent adoration of you. "I'm not... I'm not cute..." you protested weakly, even as your hips begin to move up to meet his, seeking more of that delicious friction.

"You're not?" he asks, punctuating his words with a sharp, deep thrust that had you seeing stars. "But look at you... taking my cock like you were made for it... like your perfect little pussy was molded just for me..." His hand slid down, fingers splaying possessively over your lower belly, feeling it clench and quiver as he filled you so completely. "That's right, baby... this is your pussy's purpose... to milk my cock dry."

He could feel you starting to tense, your thighs beginning to quake around his pistoning hips, your belly fluttering beneath his splayed fingers. Your breathy moans and whimpers rose in pitch and volume, blending with Jun-ho's guttural groans and ragged pants to create a symphony of carnal bliss that echoed off the walls.

"Fuck, yes... that's it, baby... Come with me." the man urged breathlessly as he drank in the exquisite sight of you lost in ecstasy. "I want to feel this greedy little cunt squeeze the cum out of my cock. You miss a drop, and we do it all over again, you hear me?" He delivers a sharp snap of his hips, a brutal thrust that buried him to the hilt in you, kissing your womb so sweetly.

You size up suddenly, letting out a cry as your pussy clenched down hard, rhythmically, milking his throbbing cock for all it was worth as you rode out the crest of your climax.

The man threw back his head with a groan, a feral sound, as he felt your velvety walls spasming around him, sucking him deeper, urging him to fill you with his cum. He slams into you one last time before his own release overtook him. His cock jerked and pulsed, erupting as he pumped you full of his hot, thick seed, painting your insides white.

You collapsed together in a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs and heaving chests, the aftershocks of their shared climax leaving you both breathless. You could only cling to him as he leaned down and pressed a gentle little kiss to your temple.

"Don't try and beat me up ever again."

"Fuck you."

"Just did, baby."

[southerndragontamer]

Ok let me just- go off for a minute here about Dante and Patty’s relationship BECAUSE CAPCOM ARE COWARDS AND REFUSE TI GIVE EITHER OF THE ELDER SPARDA THE HAPPY CHEMICAL SO WE HAVE TO DO IT OURSELVES BECAUSE THEY DESERVE IT GODDAMNIT-anyway beware Headcanons XD

He meets her and naturally comes off as uncaring and nonchalant to everything, but he blocks her sight of blood and gore and death as much as he can. Shoving her hat down in the car, blocking with the drop screen on the stage. And even in the situation where she sees something and is scared like in the train scene he doesn’t say anything bad for her fear or her crying, and at the end of the first episode she did see him fight but he obviously kept her safe from it. When she redecorates the office, his den/territory, he isn’t happy but he doesn’t shout at her, rather her actions, he’s firm but not mean.

When she grabs the watch for the gambling demon case in Ep 9, points his own gun at him, his expression is furious for .2 seconds as he rushes at her to grab it, but his anger is not at Patty. It’s at the cursed watch. His entire being in that moment was flooded with the urge to protect his young, to get Patty to safety, and the expression on his face as he holds her after is so soft and concerned and relieved. Which is why he put her out of the line of fire when he gave her to Morrison later on when she tried to take over the poker game for him.

And on Patty’s side!!!! She adores Dante even if she pushes at him, but she’s an orphan and he’s the only stable adult that’s not the nuns that she knows, that she basically lives with, of course she’s gonna push and poke at him and his boundaries to see what he’s going to do or not do. But as much as she teases and prods, she is willing to fight for him if he’s in trouble.

Ep 9 again, she’s watching Dante, her father figure, and Lady, an aunt, seemingly fight when Dante acts off. She doesn’t remember the watch being cursed, she wasn’t told after she came to, so when Morrison, an uncle, has her held back when Lady seemingly KILLS DANTE IN FRONT OF HER- she is about to bite Morrison to get to her father, screaming at Lady in shock and anger and betrayal and she only doesn’t do that because the demon shows itself and Dante gets up.

And of course the biggest one in Ep 12. Patty is a child, she is a little girl who’s just found her mother after so long apart and thinking she was dead- and she’s looking for Dante and then this giant demon grabs her, taunts her with making her watch as Redgrave is being invaded/destroyed, people are dying- tells her Dante is dead-and she has so much faith in him, her latent magic activates and a portal opens to hell. What does she do? She ignores her mother and Morrison. And jumps into hell.

Let me repeat that. Patty. Jumped. INTO HELL BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO HELP DANTE-

Reminder for those who haven’t seen the series, At this point Dante is unconscious and crucified with Rebellion stabbed through him for the tenth time-

And Patty gets through hell with her magic protecting her, hauls herself up a cliff, and then jumps onto the cross that the demons are dragging down.

And she tries to pull out Rebellion. She. Tries. To. Pull. Out. Rebellion. PATTY IS EIGHT YEARS OLD AND HUMAN AND SHE’S TRYING TO LIFT A DEMONIC BLADE

And shes talking to Dante the entire time, begging him to wake up, and then she’s clinging to him and apologizing she’s saying it’s her fault for all of this, promising to not eat his sundaes without asking or get mad at him about messing his office up and she’s crying because she’s scared and her father is hurt and she can’t do anything but she needs him to wake up and be ok-

And when she’s being attacked again after she’s forced out of hell, forced from Dante’s side, told she’s the reason all this happened by fucking Sid- she still doesn’t lose her trust and faith Dante’s going to come back that he’s not dead. She calls out for him when she’s in danger

And, like a guard dog following a whistle, like a knight forgoing every other duty to defend his charge, he comes to her side to defend her.

Dante is her father. Patty is his daughter. I’m not taking criticism or questioning at this time thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

The way Dante immediately grabs her hands to make sure she doesn’t fall ;-; that’s his daughter he cares about her so much.

[genevawrenn]

I am still brainstorming about The Secret League of Alchemists [tr!Sneeg, tr!Clown & tr!Ros] after today's streams [Ros & Sneeg have VODs] cause there are simply so many good points that happened and that conversation played out exactly how I would have wanted it to. From both a character and creator POV, well-fucking-done.

Alright, onto this ramble [from now on I will be talking about character unless I specify].

First of all, I am so fucking glad Sneeg was the one to notice the fact Ros left Yellow and had the tough conversation about what happened with her. Up until that point, at least from the VODs I have seen, Ros has only really known his silly, bantering side, I am not sure she even really trusted him to be venerable up until today when she took a chance and I am so happy she did. She watched him and Clown drive each other insane and had issues differentiating between their tones if they were serious or not but I think she finally understands how Sneeg acts when he is locked in on something.

Because he handled everything BEAUTIFULLY.

He took the time to sit down and listen to her, asking thought provoking questions as he tries to narrow down the motivation of their opposition. Checking with their comfort before giving them the respect of privacy and taking them to somewhere no one would follow, allowing them to speak freely and without judgement. Speaking straight up of what he was witness too, backing them up whenever they needed yet giving the respect to make the decisions they have to.

I absolutely ADORE the fact Clown also showed up, and without second guessing anything about the subject content and immediately locks in, takomg the time to listen to his obviously hurting friend. The fact he tries to talk about Sneeg's machine upon his arrival on the mushroom island and Sneeg refuses for the conversation to be deflected, instead forcing the subject back to the one he wished to focus on and its so masterfully well done.

Clown and Sneeg have surprised me the most, I think, loyalty wise. The Kingdom of Fools was a unity of misfits who became family forced together through gathering materials and protecting against attacks from all fronts. They have become an inseparable trio who has now proved they have one another's backs, alongside Foolish, as that's who they believe the core of the Kingdom is. They are willing to tackle issues head on together, refusing to let anyone stumble and fighting at their side until the bitter end.

Clown, Sneeg, Ros and Foolish have become united through circumstances and family through loyalty, only hoping for the best for the fellow members of their Kingdom.

I love how Sneeg describes Ros as being the castle, the centerpiece of their faction. She started the foundations to give them shelter and fought back each exhausting time it has been threatened. She is the origin, the keystone, the bloody heart of the Kingdom of Fools gilded in gold and royal purples. She was the interim Queen when Foolish fell, immediately accepted and backed up by the rest of the Fools.

I think after Foolish sacrificed himself it brought a lot into perspective for the remaining members, and Sneeg made his choice of who he would stand by in times of chaos. He found a warrior-in-arms with Clown who despite all their bickering, both would protect each others backs without question.

"You are the Kingdom, The entirety of the Kingdom was built around a structure you made, willingly."

Perfect guards for their Kingdom, otherwise known as Ros, the Royal Architect. She is the foundations, the structures and the walls who will save her people despite the weather that batters her and the sieges that befall her fortifications.

But like hell she is facing it alone, especially now.

She created a safe space for her people to gather and build their future, now in her times of strife two of the people who earned her respect stepped up to protect her when she stumbled.

I haven't watched much of Clown's content, or Ros before this world but now I want to know so much more.

Because I see the reputation Clown wears like a comfortable, worn sweater, totally confident with what his ruthless nature has bought him. But even someone so terrifying can hide a soft heart, and Ros has clearly earned the terrifying pvper's friendship.

Simply by being herself and building a home, people gathered to inhabit it and now are willing to go through hell and high water to save their safe space. Two of the server's most feared have made their stance known, at the side of the personification of everything their Kingdom stands for.

Its beautiful poetry watching the one who nutured malice instead of love get his just desserts, and I am eagerly awaiting their King's return but I trust in the core trio who has kept this Kingdom afloat week after week.

They are strongest together, and today proved that in so many ways. I adore and love this trio, and hope this open communication remains a habit between them, because knowing they can come to one another without judgement and be reassured of their worth.

Sneeg made sure to have emphasis that Ros has an incredible amount of worth to the Kingdom even beyond the castle she built, because she is the keystone who united them and holds them all together.

Oh my Secret League of Alchemists, though I did not know you before I am delighted to make your acquaintance now. One of my favourite tropes is scary souls who have a soft spot for those they care for, I hope it continues long into the future because they cooked a whole meal and then some with each and every action from today's story.

Bravo. Give me more.

[ros3mari3]

Inked in Destiny

Bucky Barnes x soulmate!Reader

The first time you saw the tattoo on your wrist, you were seven years old. Delicate vines curled over your skin, inked in deep black, twisting gracefully around your arm. It was beautiful, intricate, and entirely mysterious.

You learned to hide it. Others had words that spoke of love and promises; yours was an enigma, a pattern that felt like a secret before you even knew who it belonged to. So you kept it covered, concealing it beneath bracelets and long sleeves, unwilling to face what it might mean. Over time, it became second nature to hide it, to pretend it wasn’t there.

Years passed, and the mystery of the ink faded into the background of your life. Until the war came, and the world tilted on its axis.

James Buchanan Barnes was a name whispered like legend, a man thought lost to time and violence. When you joined the Avengers, you never expected to meet him. And you certainly never expected the way your pulse would stutter the moment his gaze locked onto yours.

From the beginning, there was something about Bucky—something familiar, yet completely foreign. He was reserved, his voice always edged with reluctance, his eyes shadowed with the weight of things unspoken. You caught glimpses of warmth, of a man buried beneath the pain, but he always pulled away before you could see too much.

And then, one day, everything changed.

You had been sparring, caught up in the fluid rhythm of movement, when your sleeve rode up—just slightly. Just enough.

Bucky’s entire body went rigid. His breath hitched, and for the first time since you met him, there was something in his eyes other than guarded restraint—something raw, something like fear.

“What is that?” His voice was tight, laced with something unreadable.

Your stomach twisted. You knew what he was looking at. But still, instinct kicked in, and you yanked your sleeve down. “Nothing.”

His gaze didn’t waver. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, and you took one back.

“You always wear long sleeves,” he murmured, his tone deceptively soft. “Even in the summer.”

You swallowed hard. “So?”

He hesitated, fingers twitching at his side, then—without another word—turned on his heel and walked away.

The abruptness of his exit left you reeling. You stood frozen, your mind racing, watching his retreating form as he disappeared down the hall. The air between you felt charged, the weight of unspoken truths pressing in on your chest.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. The image of his expression—the fleeting fear, the wariness—played on repeat in your mind. And so, against your better judgment, you found yourself outside his door.

You knocked once. No answer.

Twice. Silence.

On the third knock, the door swung open, revealing Bucky standing there, his jaw clenched tight. His room was dimly lit, shadows stretching across his face, emphasizing the exhaustion lining his features.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice hoarse.

“You ran,” you shot back. “You saw my tattoo and just—left.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he looked like he might shut the door in your face. But instead, he exhaled sharply, stepping aside to let you in.

The air in the room was thick with tension as you stood in front of him, your arms crossed. “You knew, didn’t you?”

Bucky didn’t answer right away. Instead, he rolled up the sleeve of his jacket, revealing the same delicate, curling vines twining over his forearm. The sight of it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I knew,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve known for a while.”

Your breath caught. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

His jaw tightened. “Because I didn’t want this for you. I didn’t want me for you.”

Your heart ached at the weight behind his words. Slowly, carefully, you reached out, tracing a finger over the ink on his skin. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

Bucky flinched under your touch, but he didn’t pull away. His gaze searched yours, filled with hesitation, with conflict. “I’m dangerous,” he whispered. “You deserve better.”

You shook your head. “I deserve my soulmate.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched between you, thick with emotions neither of you were ready to name. But something shifted then—something fragile, something real.

And for the first time, Bucky didn’t step away.

[doudouhoon]

A SONG OF BLOOD AND DUTY

pairing ✶ ice prince!park sunghoon x fire princess/dragonrider!reader

synopsis ✶ the princess of the fire kingdom has been betrothed to the crown ice prince since the second that she was born. when duty calls, she must take her place next to park sunghoon and rule the ice kingdom. but can she leave her kingdom to her immoral half-brother and give up her rightful succession as the first-born? now, she must make her choice - engulf the ones who have wronged her in flames and shed blood or be the queen that never was.

warnings ✶ graphic violence (fencing and i promise nobody was hurt (for now 😈), sexual harassment (very subtle and non-verbal).

est. word count ✶ 6k

author’s note ✶ first chapter is out y’all! it is kinda boring but that is just because it’s the start of the plot. ngl i didn’t expect it would take so much work 😟 but here we are! likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated and i kindly remind you that this is my first piece of work so keep that in mind (i am afraid to read it 🥸). p.s. i changed the name of the ice kingdom in the last second. so for every asoiaf fan who has heard of ulthos, i am well aware that it’s situated in the south part of the world, i just changed that fact for the sake of the story.

taglist ✶ @firstclassjaylee, @dksfml, @miukidoll, @d-dilemma, @xylatox

the sharp sound of metal against metal rang out like the harsh crack of a whip. the wind whooshed as the swords clashed in the training ground. each movement of the opponents was deliberate, but one lacked footwork. one wrong step and you will be on the ground, feeling the still wet mud from yesterday’s rainfall engulf your body in filth.

“well done, my prince!”

the orotund voice of aegon’s personal trainer and one of the best swordsmen in the kingdom was heard as he drew nearer to the young lad.

aemond still lay in the muddy ground, catching his breath from his brother’s sharp attacks. he blinked a few times and caught sight of ser criston cole’s body hovering above him. cole stretched out his hand to the defeated.

“we must work on your stability, your highness.”

aemond took hold of his calloused hand and only grunted in reply. standing up on his feet, he saw the look of all the knights around the training field. they thought he was weak. but what vexed him the most was his older brother’s triumphant grin.

you watched the scene in front of you unfold with an observant look. you were never allowed to participate in your brothers’ duels, god forbid; your merit is shown to the eyes of the world. the only times you were to touch a sword were your private lessons with ser harrold westerling, with whom your combat skills were sure to meliorate.

gathering your long dress in your hands, you held it with a delicate grip, turning your back to the resumed clash of swords. you took deliberate steps in order not to stomp on your intricate carmine dress. you entered the palace. your steps were quick, but not quicker than the two guards following you incessantly. light shily illuminated the dark red stone, which adorned the corridors to the chambers and study rooms. you took a sharp turn to the great library and huffed. the grand maester will surely now apprise your father of your constant lateness.

seeing the massive doors to the library, you willed yourself to quicken your step despite the discomfort you felt in the lengthy clothing. the guards in front saw your hurried manner and scurried to open the entryway.

entering the room, you saw the grand maester preparing the books you will need for today’s lesson in high valyrian.

you neared the ginormous table and sat down in one of the chairs.

“grand maester orwyle, apologies for my tardiness.”

the guilt in your voice was evident, which somehow put him at ease. at least you were not like your younger brothers.

“a princess with no imperfections is yet to be born, your grace. while i was awaiting your arrival, i arranged the books we will read today. now, let us begin. shall we?”

you nodded and gently smiled at the grand maester. he was wise and kind, unlike most of the men, roaming the red keep.

spending the next few hours of the day perfecting your mother tongue, even though you spoke it with no difficulties, was just another galling part of your everyday regime. your duty as a targaryen princess was to study until you knew the full monty of westorosi history, the chronicles of houses of service to the crown and the days of old valyria. future obligations, needless to say, included being a good wife and bearing heirs to the crown. notably, a male one.

having been done with your commitments for the day, you retreated to your bedchambers to rest before dinner. walking up to your vanity in the corner of your sleeping quarters, you sit in the hand-carved chair and gaze at the mirror in front of you. with a sigh, you reach for the wooden brush and start combing your dark tresses.

an abrupt knock at the door halted your movements.

“come in!”

your voice was heard from the other side of the door, prompting the guards to grasp the handle and finally reveal the man.

it was a woman. a familiar silhouette.

your lady-in-waiting, lisa massey bowed and stepped into the room.

“your highness, we must prepare your gown for tonight! should i help you brush your hair?”

hastily moving from one corner of the chambers to another, lisa frantically searched for the brush in your hands.

watching her, you took in her uneasy manner.

“what is the occasion today?”

“lord loren lannister has arrived in king’s landing to lodge his eldest son to the crown. or more specifically to you! didn’t the king mention that matter to you, rea?”

releasing yet another heavy sigh, you direct lisa’s focus to the comb in your right hand and faintly smirk.

“amusing, wasn’t it?”

slowly shaking her head, she walks up to you and starts gently combing through your hair.

“i’ll have the other servants prepare your gown for tonight.”

mindlessly nodding your head, you hum to her in a reply. you wondered if this one would be another scrawny little boy or perhaps a grey-bearded suitor of your long-deceased grandmother’s. nonetheless, you asked yourself why your father let all of this take place, given that you were already betrothed.

having no answer to that, you let your dear friend and lady-in-waiting help you slip into the silken black dress and proceed with the jewellery.

after lisa said she deemed you were in a fit state, you heard yet another knock at your door.

“your highness, the king is expecting you.”

“what great timing.”

catching your whisper, lisa only giggles and gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“i am sure you will be fine, my princess.”

her mischievous smile only grew in size when you replied.

“i will. but nothing is certain for the one who will court me tonight.”

giving her a wink and a playful smile, you step to the doorway and let the guards push it open.

the tramp of two sets of marching feet could be heard behind your back. the sound alarmed the servants inside the castle, prompting them to bow as low as they could and pay their respect to the passing princess.

the thought that you were seen as an admirable figure, even a god by some, just because of your noble blood, always troubled you from a young age.

aerea did not think that she was more deserving of all of the gifts, given by the seven gods, than the poor smallfolk of the seven kingdoms.

hence, she evinced her benevolence and generosity to the people surrounding her. not because she wanted to be cheered on as “the realm’s delight”, but by virtue of her moral values.

having finally arrived before the door of the small hall, you take one last steady breath and slowly exhale, readying yourself for the awaiting charade on the other side.

the kingsguards bowed at you and opened the entry to the high-ceiling room.

a deep voice boomed to your right, signalling your presence.

“princess aerea targaryen!”

standing up to their feet, lord lannister and his son bowed their heads and awaited your next exertion.

your father watched calmly, smiling to himself at his daughter’s beauty and grace, a painful reminder of your late mother.

taking measured steps, you round the table and slightly bow at the king, seated at the end. after a few moments, you at last sat to your father’s right and smiled uneasily.

lord loren took it upon himself to commence the dialogue.

“your grace, princess aerea really is the epitome of elegance. i am honoured to finally meet you, your highness.”

while saying that, a faint smirk played at the corner of his lips, making you feel disturbed.

you glanced at your father’s face, him still smiling faintly and enjoying the compliments his daughter was receiving.

mustering up a polite smile, you turn your head to the lord on the other side of the wooden table.

“thank you, lord lannister. you truly flatter me.”

the young man observed you with a genuine curiosity, having heard quite a lot of whispers about the princess. alas, he decided to stay silent for now.

your father finally joined the exchange, standing up straight in his seat.

“lord loren, i have heard your son… the young lord kevan has shown outstanding merit during his swordsmanship trainings.”

the man eagerly nodded his head, agreeing with your father’s claim.

“yes, your grace! kevan possesses excellent prowess. when he was a little boy, he fancied watching our guardsmen fight one another. i knew he would become a splendid fighter.”

the older man patted his son on the shoulder as if to encourage him to say something, anything, to assert his presence. he really did look like a lannister. fair, golden hair and light green eyes. seemed like he was not quite talkative.

while the elderly went on talking about the imports of silks, dyes, and spices from Essos, you sat there and partly paid attention to the conversation. you did not show any interest in the lad sitting across the table. what troubled you was his constant, observing stare, following your every little movement.

he is such a creep! like father, like son, right?

good thing no one could hear your thoughts.

king daeron made a hasty gesticulation, and in a few seconds a few maids entered the hall, hands full of different exquisite dishes and wines.

finally! the faster we finish here, the better for me.

the princess had run out of patience, desperately wanting to get out of the lannister’s grip and retreat to her chambers.

not forgetting her manners, she ate a sufficient amount of food, chewing slowly, inaudibly, and with her mouth closed. she was careful not to sip too much wine or indulge in gluttony.

occasionally joining the tedious chatter, she exhibited forced grins and laughter, as to not seem distant or mannerless.

when aerea finally had enough of the futile charade, she seized the moment and carefully excused herself to the king and present lord; the reason was her drowsiness from the long day.

her father granted her permission to leave, and aerea stood up slowly to avoid appearing to be eager to vacate her seat.

she curtsied to the men, the lords also paying their respect to the princess by standing up and bowing to her.

what aerea did not miss was the evident anguish on lord loren’s face. she will definitely laugh about that with lisa later.

the doors closed behind her, her cue to release the sigh she was holding for so long.

she walked back the same path to her personal chambers, the guards still following her closely.

reaching her room, aerea ardently opened the doorway herself, entered, and closed it again with a thud.

the members of the kingsguard stood outside, confused by the princess’s doings.

the need to get rid of your clothes was overwhelming. you changed into your silky white nightgown, washed up as fast as you could, and lay in bed, alas restless.

this was the third time you had to endure having dinner with corrupt lords and their sons, men who grasped for power and authority through marriage.

you were well aware of the deal your father made with the king of ulthos. the marriage that awaited you, that will make you another kingdom’s queen. so why did your father allow all of this? certainly, the people of westeros were not apprised of the king’s scheming. no one knew, except for the council and the royal family. but was this pretence necessary?

on the other side of the world, park sunghoon was sitting at his writing table, quietly reading a history book. fatigue crept up his bones, resulting in him omitting words and even phrases. groaning lightly, he stood up and put the open book on the wooden surface next to him. the prince summoned his maids and ordered them to prepare him a hot bath.

while he waited, sunghoon strolled to the window in his room, taking in the scenery presented in front of him. the city beyond the gates of the castle was bustling with life even through the late hours of the night. guards were stationed on every corner of the stronghold. everything seemed peaceful. alas, sunghoon’s mind was not. with every passing day, his duties seemed to double, his training became more and more exhausting, and events he was unable to escape drew nearer.

his body ached from today’s combat with the swordmaster. his mind was buzzing with hundreds of thoughts, none of which were comprehensible.

sensing a presence in the dark room, he turned around only to see one of his servants.

the young girl anxiously bowed and spoke with a tremble in her voice.

“your highness, the bath is ready.”

the prince nodded slightly and shifted his attention to the aperture once again.

“next time you enter my chambers, do not forget to knock and announce yourself.”

his tone was cold and assertive, causing the girl to wince in trepidation.

“forgive me, my prince.”

the maid did not dare to raise her gaze and look at the man’s forbidding figure.

“you are dismissed.”

sunghoon listened closely for the girl’s footsteps, and only when he heard the door close did he turn around and start undressing.

he unbuttoned his black silk shirt and sauntered towards the washroom. once in front of the bath, filled with hot water, the prince fully undressed and stepped in.

sighing heavily as he felt his muscles relax, sunghoon laid back his head against the edge of the tub. his eyebrows softly twitched; his train of thought came to a screeching halt. he must wait to see what the following day has prepared for him.

“you should be glad that you have so many suitors wanting your hand in marriage, your highness!”

“suitors? do you call those immoral men suitors? they are pursuing the crown and the ascendancy that comes with it, not me!”

you softly laughed at lisa’s gullibility. lisa slowly followed behind you, choosing to abstain from replying.

the both of you were currently taking a walk in the gardens of the red keep. you promised to tell her of yesterday’s events, and so you did. but her opinion on the matter greatly differed from yours.

it was well before noon, and a meeting with your father awaited you. with time to spare before you had to present yourself in the castle, you decided to change the subject and continue your stroll to the greenhouse.

you found the king in his study, thoroughly examining a letter, clutched tightly in his hands. you stood near the entry, waiting for his acknowledgement.

after a few seconds, you timidly took a step forward.

“father, you asked for my presence.”

your soft voice broke his near stupor, making him lift his head. he looked nothing like the man he was yesterday at the dinner with the lannisters. your father’s stoic nature was evident once again, reminding you of the king he was. a good king, able to make harsh decisions at times needed.

“daughter, sit down.”

you took a seat and waited for his next words, wondering what the matter might be this time.

hopefully, not another dinner with a lord.

“i have received a letter of great importance.”

fidgeting with the hem of your dress, you stilled your breath.

the king took in your apparent agitation, a semblance of a smile flickering onto his lips.

“good news i might say. the king and crown prince of ulthos have finally made the decision to pay king’s landing a visit.”

hearing his father’s words, sunghoon showed no sign of shock, or dejection.

“when are we leaving then?”

“tomorrow, at sunrise. my master of ships has informed me that he expects the sea to be calm for the time being. the winds of winter have not picked up their strength yet.”

the king calmly took a sip of his wine, examining his son’s face.

“good. what should i be prepared for?”

chuckling, sunghoon’s father simply answered his son’s question.

“dragons.”

tittering lowly, the king did not receive any kind of response from his son. he was not in the mood for jests.

“oh! do not fret, son. the princess is said to be quite delightful.”

sunghoon did not pay mind to the king’s comment and softly exhaled.

just then, a knock was heard on the other side of the door.

“your grace, the hand wishes to speak with you.”

taking the cue to leave his father’s study, the prince stood up and bowed to the king. with a nod, he was ultimately dismissed.

sunghoon sipped the alcohol slowly, letting the bitterness engulf his taste buds.

“come on, now! you must enjoy yourself tonight, my prince.”

jake harshly patted the man’s back, prompting their other companions to howl with laughter.

sunghoon only glanced in his friend’s direction and asked.

“and why is that?”

“who knows? it might be your last. you could fall victim to the princess’s dragon! i doubt that she likes solemn men like you.”

the last part of jake’s reply did not catch the prince’s attention whatsoever.

“her dragon?”

“she is a targaryen princess, sunghoon. have you not realised that yet?”

calon said matter of factly, slightly irking sunghoon with his tone of voice.

the lad made a motion with his hand to catch the young men’s attention, making them draw nearer to him.

the only figure, which stood rooted in his place was sunghoon’s.

“there is a rumour that the egg hatched the day she was born. her dragon is quite large for her age. i wonder if the saying that targaryen women are as fierce as their dragons is true.”

another fit of laughter burst around the table. the crown prince was not happy with calon’s behaviour tonight, not failing to show it with the way his brows furrowed.

“tell me, calon. do you think you are amusing?”

calon’s smile faltered, and silence fell upon the group.

“why are you so capricious today, my prince?”

the way the title rolled off calon’s sharp tongue only fuelled sunghoon’s anger. he abruptly stood up, choosing to leave the table, but not before shooting a glare his friend’s way.

“sunghoon?”

the prince clearly heard jake’s voice calling for him, deciding to disregard him and leave the pub they entered together an hour ago.

servants were flitting around the castle, preparing for the visitants, who were to arrive soon. the floors were swept, the windows were polished, and the bushes in the gardens were trimmed to perfection.

soon enough, word spread around king’s landing and the people of the capital city battered the crown with overflowing inquiries. yet, the royal family refrained from providing the much-needed answers. at least, until the arrival of the crown of ulthos.

you did not recognise the emotion you felt when you were informed of the matter. was it relief? perhaps dismay? whatever it was, there was nothing to be done. your purpose was to become the bind between the two kingdoms and eventually bear heirs to the succeeding king.

with thoughts constantly plaguing your mind, you put down the book you were previously reading. you currently occupied a bench in the garden’s grounds, observing the servants removing the thorns of the red roses. you always wondered why they would do this if it shortened their lives. you relished in their beautiful bloom during the summer, with their thorns or not.

the princess heard footsteps drawing nearer towards where she sat. the voice that spoke out was perfectly familiar.

“your highness, i am sorry to disturb you.”

your servant annora, stood a few meters to your left, bowing ninety degrees at your figure.

turning your body slightly in her direction, you smiled warmly at the young girl.

she is always so dear and sweet.

“i am all ears, annora.”

reciprocating your beam, the servant allowed herself to walk closer to your body.

“you must pick your gown for the welcoming of ulthos’s royal family.”

oh! was that it?

“and his grace announced that he will be holding a jamboree for the king and crown prince the day they arrive.”

oh.

“did he state anything else on that matter?”

annora stayed silent for a few seconds, seemingly in thought.

“as far as i am aware, no, your highness.”

you nodded your head, turning your back to her and grasping the tome in your hands once again.

“very well. i will make my choice later today. thank you for informing me.”

despite your inability to see her movements, annora curtsied once more and took her leave.

they would reach the blackwater bay tomorrow if your calculations were correct, that is. which meant you had little time to prepare. both mentally and physically.

you continued with your reading, your mind preoccupied, causing you to feel as if the letters were moving of their own accord.

seems like today is not the day for reading.

“are you thrilled by the news, my dear sister?”

aegon chuckled, awaiting your reply, while sipping his dornish red wine.

you were currently attending the wonted supper, chewing the roasted carrots you opted for tonight.

aemond’s snicker only doubled your vexation. the loud clang of your silver fork against the rim of your plate silenced the two men, turning their attention to you.

you quickly turned your head towards the younger of the two, the sneer in your tone sharp like valyrian steel.

“what is so amusing to you, little brother?”

“children! do not spoil our family gathering!”

it was clear your father was weary of your bickering. his only desire was for his children to behave well and at least tolerate each other.

silence draped over the room like a velvet curtain, muffling even the clinking of the silverware.

you felt aemond’s stoic glare following your movements. as you looked at him, your eyes shivered with a mixture of anger and indignation. you never understood his ferocity, nor his motives.

your chair emitted a prolonged screeching noise as it dragged against the floor.

“i will take my leave now, father. i must prepare for tomorrow.”

you swiftly curtsied, giving your brothers a sidelong glance.

your father’s calls of your name went unanswered, and after the doors closed behind you, you bolted for your chambers, enervated from today’s circumstances, dreading tomorrow’s arrival.

after the princess awoke from her deep slumber, she lay motionless in her tangled sheets, eyes tightly closed and mind ground on the troubling events that were to occur. she did not know what to expect from the future, and the unknown rooted fear deep in her heart.

a pound startled aerea, making her slightly jump up from her position.

“your highness, are you awake?”

lisa’s head peeked out from the ajar door, a sigh escaping aerea’s lips.

the princess’s lady-in-waiting walked to her bed and sat next to aerea’s dainty figure. taking your warm hands in her own, lisa held them softly, her lips quirking into a warm smile. she sensed your unrest, knowing you like the back of her hand.

“i have always been fascinated by your strength. remember when the king forbade you to ride syrax, because of her fierce nature? nonetheless, you sneaked into the dragon’s pit and rode her for hours in that summer storm.”

you chuckled at the memory of your troubled adolescence.

“you possess a great strength of will, rea. you are a dragon. do not forget that.”

with renewed vigour, you took in lisa’s hands in your own, a gentle smile budding on your lips.

“i will not. i promise.”

your friend embraced you in a soothing hug, making you realise the immense pain you will suffer when you depart from each other. perhaps, you should take her with you?

“now! you should eat your first meal of the day and start the preparations.”

“chop-chop! we do not have much time.”

laughing at her antics, you untangle yourself from the silky white sheets and rise to your feet.

“i will have your breakfast served here, your highness. i will be back shortly.”

lisa turned on her heel towards the door but briskly changed her mind. she spun in your direction and pointed her finger at you.

“and i better not see you in your bed when i return.”

“is this a threat, lady massey?”

you could not help the smirk that lifted the edges of your mouth and barely held in your laughter.

“take it as you will, princess.”

and with that, she was out of your chambers, leaving you to wash yourself before breakfast came.

shortly after you ate your meal, countless maids entered your bedroom to perform their duty of catering to your needs.

first and foremost, they styled your hair in a traditional targaryen coiffure. they deemed it fit to put some pink powder on your pale skin in hopes of bringing some colour to your face. afterwards, the servants kindly helped you get in your red gown, the long transparent veil sweeping around your figure on the stone flooring. the dress fit you like a glove, the material was soft to the touch, and the added royal jewellery was a sure indication of your status.

“you look divine, your highness.”

hearing lisa’s feathery voice, you turned to see that the two of you were left alone in the room. you hadn’t realised the absence of the other maids. surely, you were out of your head.

your lips stretched into a thin smile.

“thank you, lisa.”

the girl walked to you and embraced you in a solemn hug. she knew you too well for her not to see through your facade. you felt uneasy, and anyone with eyes to see would detect it immediately.

her soft lips pecked you gently on your forehead. you closed your eyes for a moment, grateful that you were gifted with such a precious companion.

“i will leave you now. we will see each other after the celebration. yes?”

you mindlessly hummed in reply, letting go of lisa’s warm hand and saying your goodbyes.

exhaling softly, aerea observed her reflection in the gold-framed mirror.

i look…adequate.

shaking her head, she turned away and stepped to the door, ready to open it.

it is not my duty to be pleasing to the eyes of men.

the guards stationed on the other side of the doorway escorted you to the royal carriage, which was to take you to the port of blackwater bay.

the king was already waiting for his daughter inside, his brows furrowed deeply, his aggravation evident.

sitting next to your father, you queried the matter, which had put him in a temper.

“your brothers decided to stay in the red keep and welcome our dear guests there.”

in reply, you huffed out a short laugh. scanning the streets of king’s landing through the small window, you started picking at the skin around your fingernails. a habit you should have rooted out long ago.

“i am not even the slightest bit surprised by their insolence.”

your father’s silence troubled you, but the road to the bay was short, and you had to ground yourself before you had to step out of this enclosure.

before you realised it, the horse’s trotting halted, signalling your arrival.

your father exited the carriage, you taking your turn after him. he extended his hand to help you down the little steps, you lifting your gown with your left fist.

two maids and a great many white cloaks stood in front of you, waiting to serve you.

the servants took your long veil in their hands, lifting it over the dirty ground.

next to your father’s side, you sauntered towards the port.

your eyes skimmed the horizon, quickly noticing the huge ship sailing your way. an enormous flag danced in the wind, a head of an open-mouthed wolf with its sharp teeth showing.

any moment now, they will throw the anchor and set foot on westeros land.

you stilled your breath; the crew of the royal ship secured the gangplank to the dock.

multiple guards went ashore, moving in formations with their black cloaks fluttering in the breeze.

you held your composure well, not even the slightest shift was evident on your face.

the king of ulthos walked down the railway, his dark royal uniform shining under the sunlight.

your father shook hands with the man as if with an old friend.

your attention was drawn by the other figure setting foot on your land.

so this must be the crown prince.

the tall, pale man stood to his father’s right side, not daring to make eye contact with you.

“welcome to westeros, king jihoon.”

the waves of the calm sea kept crashing against the shore, the laughing gulls flying above the azure waters.

“it is a pleasure, king daeron.”

aerea glanced at the outlandish man, fortuitously meeting his slanted eyes.

daeron turned to his offspring, smiling affirmatively at her.

“my daughter and heir, princess aerea.”

the girl felt stupefied by her father’s proclamation, clearly befuddled at the newly appointed position.

heir? what is the meaning of this?

aerea stepped forward, bowing to the royalty before her.

“it is an honour, your grace.”

king jihoon laughed heartily, taking rea’s arm in his cold hands, making her stand up from the uncomfortable stance she was in.

“there is no need for such acts, princess.”

fixing her posture, she smiled restlessly, a hard line around her lips.

do they not show respect in ulthos? what kind of customs do they have there?

the man turned his head to the right, signalling his son to come to the fore.

“my son, sunghoon. the future king of ulthos.”

this time, you took your time basking in his appearance.

well, he is charming at the very least.

you started your inspection from his raven-dark hair, a few strands falling gently on his forehead, continued to his full eyebrows that framed his face so beautifully, then…

he was already looking at you, a triumphant smirk playing at the corners of his luscious lips.

clearing your throat, your right eyebrow twitched; you were absolutely astonished by your foolish mistake.

first meeting, and i already let myself feed his ego.

sunghoon showed his respect to you and your father and returned by his father’s side.

“now, it is time to celebrate your arrival. i have prepared a wonderful surprise, king jihoon.”

“splendid! lead the way, your grace!”

when the royal carriages arrived at the red keep, the small council greeted the king and crown prince of ulthos, your half-brothers present with them.

the feast was about to begin in the gardens of the castle, lords from all of westeros coming to see the outlandish royals and fill their bellies.

you did not think the time to speak with your father was right, adjourning the matter for later.

men filled their mouths with arbor gold wine and dined on duck sausages, while their wives gossiped and indulged in lemon cakes.

you stood near a small table, surrounded by ladies of some of the major houses in the kingdom, not bothering to listen to their witless conversations. until one part of it caught your full attention.

“don’t you think the crown prince is ravishing to look at? he looks quite exotic to me.”

a prolonged series of giggles erupted, causing you to finally join in.

“elaborate on exotic, lady redwyne?”

the blonde-haired woman was stunned by your defensive tone, stammering while replying.

“i did not mean any…offence, your highness.”

you hummed, fixing your gaze on sunghoon’s figure on the opposite side, chattering with a young man, you presumed from his kingdom.

“i am sure you did not. just…wrong choice of words.”

you looked at the young lady, an epitome of vanity standing right in front of you, your intimidating stare making her clench her jaw. you waited for a retort; however, not even a sound could be heard from the gossipmonger.

the tension around the group was evident, prompting you to go somewhere else, where you wouldn’t obstruct their palaver.

“if you excuse me.”

taking your leave, you ambled towards the rosarium. you doubted anyone was there, which meant you would have a moment of solitude.

right then, king daeron seized the moment by raising his glass, gathering the attention of the lords and ladies. everyone stood in silence to hear the king’s toast.

“everyone…we are assembled here today to celebrate events that will change the trajectory of our history. my daughter…”

his chalice was pointed in your direction, heads turned to you, the prime subject of everyone’s heed.

“my daughter and crown prince sunghoon, future king of ulthos are to marry and form an union that will bring our two kingdoms closer together. princess rhaenyra will rule the seven kingdoms and ulthos as the rightful queen of the iron throne alongside prince sunghoon!”

a string of awes and clapping followed, confusion and revelation swirling in your mind. your smile was uncertain; inside, your thoughts were filled with fear and raw emotions; you were unable to demonstrate at the moment.

as you looked up, you saw the two graces embracing each other in a celebratory clasp; sunghoon stood beside them as if waiting for you to make a move.

you beamed at the gentlefolk, all of whom gave you their best wishes.

your father could not see you among the crowd, worry starting to gnaw at him.

unluckily for you, sunghoon saw where you were going just when you turned on your heel and fled the celebration.

the princess was sat on a settee in the rosarium, looking into the abyss that was the now dark sky. she did not catch the approaching footsteps of her fiancé, too deep in thought.

“got startled?”

a gasp left her mouth; she yanked her head in the direction of the unfamiliar deep voice, not even supposing who it belonged to.

aerea straightened herself, clearing her parched throat.

“excuse me?”

sunghoon chuckled at her reply, stepping a bit closer to her figure.

“you chose the wrong moment to run away, princess.”

she sensed his haughty tone, crossing her hands in front of her chest in a defensive mode.

definitely not a good second impression, given he was dead silent earlier today.

“and why is that, prince sunghoon?”

his name felt foreign on her tongue, a bitter feeling creeping up her body.

“that is a silly question.”

“are you insulting me?”

rea didn’t remember him being so close to her, just an arm’s distance away. it seems she was so caught up in the argument, she didn’t feel herself inching closer to him.

should i just slap him? put him in his place and show him that no man can talk to me with that tone?

no! aggression is never the answer, aerea.

he was enjoying himself so much, he couldn’t help the smirk lurking on his lips.

“i never meant to insult you.”

sighing, sunghoon looked around the garden you were in, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“i am afraid we didn’t start on the best terms. it would be better for us to be cooperative. don’t you agree, your highness?”

you gazed to your side, thinking for a short moment.

he is right. but how do i agree without seeming submissive?

while you were fighting your internal battle, sunghoon took his time eyeing you from head to toe. you were beautiful; there was no denying it. but your attitude was quite…aggravating. that would be a hindrance for him.

“there is some truth behind your words… if we want for this marriage to be, uh...fortunate, we should be on speaking terms. at least?”

speaking terms? is that what she wants?

sunghoon ran a hand through his face, clearly perplexed by your words.

you huffed, his demonstrations offending you more than you liked.

he looked you dead in the eyes, no emotion behind them except maybe for a speck of annoyance.

“as you wish.”

you nodded your head and returned to your seat, expecting him to go away and leave you alone so you could curse him under your breath all you want. but he stood rooted to his place, huffing out a breath.

“how long are you going to stay here?”

“however much i want.”

your tone was sharp, teetering his mere vexation to infuriation.

he stood before you, extending his hand.

“come. we must return together.”

you gazed up to see some kind of tenderness in his look.

without a word, you grasped his much larger hand, a shiver running through your spine.

his skin is so cold.

standing up, you hooked your arm around his, your head on a level with his shoulder.

with your fiancé by your side, you were ready to return to the hawks that were the lords and ladies of the seven kingdoms.

[wtfaniii]

Little Cheater

Summary: You are twelve years old and you accompany your father to work, there was no one who could take care of you so he had no other option, there you meet a new friend.

Warning: Nothing, just something outside the series to focus on this wonderful man with purple hair, also, there will be some non-canon things.

Based on this request!

Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x little friend

Your eyes continued to watch with curiosity and interest the huge screen in front of you that showed a bunch of people dressed in the same uniform playing "green light, red light."

—¿Why can't I play with them? —You asked, pointing at the screen while your father put on a black hood and the mask with the square figure depicted in the center.

—They are not children's games —He responded without much encouragement while putting his gun in his pants pockets.

—That's just what it is ¡You see! —You said with irony, getting up from the bed you were sitting on —¿Can I go play?

Your father snorted under the mask, seeing you with the arms crossed. ¿Why did he bring you here to begin with? Your mother was probably hooking up with some other idiot and he hadn't been able to get a babysitter in a matter of hours, you shouldn't be here and yet you were standing in front of him demanding that he let you into those games.

—No, Stay here, I'll be back in a couple of hours.

It was him last thing he said before leaving the room but you were disobedient, you were definitely not going to stay there watching adults having fun playing while you were sitting on that bed.

So you sneaked out of the room and walked without stopping until you managed to find a door guarded by two pink guards with the triangle symbol emblazoned on their respective masks.

—¿Can I come in and play? —You asked with a wide smile showing your white teeth.

That gesture always worked to get the adults to do what you wanted but these guards remained silent without moving an inch.

You sighed and took a wad of bills from your dress pocket, money you had secretly taken from your father's wallet.

—¿Can I come in?

Once again the guards remained silent for a few seconds until one of them took the money and opened the door for you. "Walk until you reach a blue metal door, ask the guard to let you in" He told you seriously. You nodded and walked even further into the facilities until you reached said door where they finally allowed you to enter.

Inside there were many beds and the players were scattered talking or simply sitting without much encouragement, you didn't understand why but you didn't care and you walked among them, you walked until one of them caught your attention a guy with purple hair who seemed to be rapping sitting on a ladder with another player next to him.

You walked towards him and put on your best smile.

—Hi... —You greeted quietly but keeping your smile, you were curious and quite intelligent but when it came to socializing with others you were very shy and that was because your schoolmates picked on you.

—Hey... —Thanos looked up at you with a curious look —¿What are you doing here? ¿Did they bring you here too? ¿What kind of debts could a girl your age have?

—I have no debts —You said walking towards him softly while you also looked at him with curiosity —¡I like your hair!

Thanos nodded and continued making movements with his hands while he continued rapping under your attentive gaze. He believed that you would leave if he didn't pay attention to you, but when he saw you fascinated with his verses, he had greater motivation, considering you his small audience.

You laughed with some rhymes until another black-haired player with the number 124 approached you.

—¿What are you doing here girl? —He crouched down to be at your eye level with a mocking smile —¿Aren't you afraid of being here?

You stepped back, seeing him judging.

—¿How old are you? ¿eight? —Again he mocked, taking a step forward to intimidate you.

—¡I have twelve!

He laughed at your response and was going to make another mocking comment but before he could do so, Thanos snapped his fingers, drawing both of attention.

—It's not cool at all to bully a twelve year old girl —He said, motioning for you to sit next to him, to which you quickly went with him —Señorita, don't let this moron scare you, he's just as nervous as everyone here, ¿Right Nam Su?

—It's Nam Gyu —He corrected him making a nervous movement with his hands.

—It's the same —Thanos continued playing with his verses while you listened to him.

You also tried to rhyme a few times but when you couldn't, he laughed at your failed attempts.

—¿How do you do it? ¿Will you teach me? —You asked frustrated after several failed attempts.

—This is an art, little lady, and don't learn it, are born with it —He says, puffing out his chest with pride and moving his hands in front of your face in an exaggerated way, making you laugh again

—¡You're funny!

He smiled at you genuinely, everyone say that all children tell the truth and if you managed to empathize with him in just one hour that means that he is a great man and that fueled his pride.

—¿Do you want to play with me? —You asked with a shy smile as you played with the fingers of your hands.

—¿Play? —He asked curiously, the drugs had diminished considerably from his system so he was already calmer sitting next to you

—¡Yeah! My dad gave me this so I don't get bored, I play solitary but now you can play with me —You said excitedly, taking out a game of cards from the pocket of your dress.

Thanos nodded and settled in his place to be in front of you, his mind still did not fully understand how a girl your age was here, you were not wearing a uniform and you looked so calm that he doubted that you really knew what was happened in this place.

Still he kept his mouth shut and started playing with you after dealt the cards, you was adorable and very friendly, in a way you reminded him of himself as a child.

As time went by you were winning in each round, he was surprised.

—¿How do you know how to play this so well? You're barely twelve —He asked with a frown while scratching his head in frustration for not having won a single round.

—Dad taught me once —You were intelligent and you memorized things quickly, that's why you also knew many things about this place even if your innocence proved otherwise.

He continued playing against you, he was not going to give up until he won a game and that led him to complain and accuse you of being a cheater after each round lost due to a large difference in points, causing you to only laugh.

Lunch time was announced and Thanos went to pick up his food along with his team, leaving you on the stairs while you put away your cards with the intention of continuing to play later, however a guard approached you.

—Your father wants you to leave immediately and return to the room —Said the stranger sternly.

—But I don't want to go yet.

—I don't think you have a choice.

You pouted and looked towards Thanos and the guard randomly forming a plan in your little head.

After a couple of seconds you smiled innocently and ran to where your purple-haired friend was, you knew there would be consequences when you returned to your father but for now you wanted to continue in this place, it was the first time you made a friend and you didn't were ready to leave him so soon.

The guard was going to follow you, he had clear instructions and if he let you go the punishment would probably be for him but as soon as he took a few steps the boss's voice sounded in his earpiece.

"Leave her" Your father said in an authoritative voice and giving the order to the guard to leave, he was not happy to leave you there and even less so with that specific player but he did not want to make you unhappy either, he saw you laughing and talking to someone unknown, someone other than him and your mother and that was somehow encouraging, if player 230 could help you socialize more maybe he could overlook this lack.

Although he himself would also put his authority at risk with the frontman

—Hey, ¿What happens? —Thanos asked when you suddenly arrived and hugged him around the waist while pressing your right cheek to his stomach.

—Nothing, I just like you —You said with a triumphant smile as you watched the guard leave.

He brushed it off and kept you by his side during the line despite Nam Gyu's protests, Se mi and Min Su also liked you but you were more attached to Thanos.

As night fell... He was barely settling into his respective bed when he saw you sitting on the side and leaning against the wall.

—¿Aren't you going to sleep?

—I'm afraid to sleep up there alone —You admitted looking towards the bunk beds where there was an empty bed on top that had been left for you.

He wasn't going to allow you to spend the night on the floor, you weren't going to sleep well and seeing you nod off from exhaustion he deduced that you were also more asleep than awake.

He got out of bed and went to you to carefully pick you up and place you in him bed where you quickly fell asleep, Thanos covered you with the blanket and placed the pillow under your head.

A small laugh caught him attention and he looked up to find Se mi with a hand on his mouth to muffle his laughter, watching him with a tender look.

—Looks like you made a friend —She said smiling, caressing your hair.

He smiled softly, she was right, you were his friend but he wasn't going to say it out loud so he answered the following.

—She is the leader of my fan's club, I have to be good to her —He made sure you were comfortable and sat on the floor next to you, it would be a long night for him without a bed but he put your comfort first.

Anyway... you would tell him what the next games were going to be at dawn, you were going to cheat but it was inevitable, you grew fond of that fun guy.

And without realizing it, that affection he got from you could be a possibility to get out of that place alive.

[morethanmemory]

Cold on during a night?

Crawl into Phosphorus' bed without anyone noticing so the guards can have a little freakout in the morning <3

Pairing: Doctor Phosphorus/Reader

Warnings: None; Some suggestive touching

Notes: Thank you for the request, anon! Just some short Phosphorus fluff for y'all (: Reader has draconic heritage so Phosphorus's radioactive flames don't burn because uhhh I said so ! Y'all will not believe the amount of research I did on underground temperatures and sewer lines just to see if it made sense for the non-human wing to be cold, and yes, Belle Reve (according to wiki) is in Louisiana!

---

Winter at Belle Reve is, by far, the worst season. This deep underground, the Non-Human Internment Division should be marginally warmer than the world above, but fifty years of deteriorating, shitty-to-begin-with insulation has left the entire wing about as toasty as the North Pole. The old concrete does little to ward off the night chill, especially when it rains. Nestled within a web of storm drains and sewer lines, coupled with crappy plumbing, the Non-Human wing is the unfortunate victim of leaky pipes and dank cells every Louisiana winter.

Phosphorus's personal hellhole is no exception.

Plink. A drop lands on his brow, evaporating the moment it touches his radioactive skin. Hiss. He turns with a grumble, tugging the threadbare, itchy blanket over his head. Plink. Another droplet hits his foot. Hiss.

Cold. Wet. Miserable. Winter at Belle Reve is, by far, the worst season.

But, there is one bright side.

The air vent in the center of his room shudders, filling the cell with the groan of rusty metal. A second later, you're unceremoniously tumbling from his ceiling like a baby bird tossed from its nest. You land by his bed in a crumpled heap, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from bursting into laughter.

With a pained moan, you get to your feet, dusting off the cobwebs that cling to your uniform.

"You really stuck the landing this time," he snickers softly as he props himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you.

"Fuck off," you hiss under your breath. You pick a dead spider from between the silver scales running up your forearm and flick it at him with a scoff. It burns to a crisp as he yelps in disgust.

Still, he lifts his blanket as you pad nearer.

"You're a terrible house guest."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you apologize dramatically, placing a hand over your heart as you hover above him. "You must forgive me. I believe I forgot my fucks in the air ducts about three cells back."

You can hear him rolling his eyes even as he reaches up to place his hand on your hip.

"You're a real comedian tonight, aren't you?" he murmurs playfully. His hand slides to the small of your back, gently pulling you down beside him. The old mattress springs shriek in squeaky horror beneath your combined weight, squealing as you both shuffle under the single sheet.

You stifle a laugh as his head hits the concrete wall behind him in his haste to make space for you, and Phosphorus pinches your hip in retaliation.

"Shut it, Smaug the Terrible," he mutters, drawing you closer. "I'm trying to be a gentleman."

A soft chuckle slips past your lips, and you fix him with an amused look. "You? A gentleman?"

"Is it that unbelievable?"

Your silence answers him loud and clear.

"Asshole," he huffs, pulling the blanket over you, and you can't help but giggle.

His warmth, radioactive and sickly as it is, is a welcome reprieve from the biting cold of the cell. The phosphorescent glow of his skin illuminates your features, glinting off your silver scales like the Northern Lights dancing over a dark lake. Soft shadows stretch themselves over the rough scutes along your brow and cheeks, and you let out a quiet, happy hum as he gently traces the jagged trail of scales with his thumb.

He doesn't tell you that you're hogging the blanket or that you've yanked it high enough to leave his feet bared to the seemingly endless drip of freezing water from the pipes above. Instead, Phosphorus lazily drapes his arm around your waist and tugs you closer.

"You'd think we'd at least get upgraded to bigger beds for saving the world," he grouses, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt in search of soft skin and sharp scales.

"What, the ping-pong table wasn't thanks enough?"

Phosphorus snorts out a light laugh and catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "I would've preferred they approved my other request."

"The cafeteria soda fountain?" you grin as the tip of his thumb drags along your bottom lip. He leans closer, close enough that you can feel his breath dance down the bridge of your nose. Slowly, Phosphorus tips your head back until your warm eyes meet his hollow sockets.

"Yeah, sure," he whispers, lips brushing your own. "The soda fountain."

You can't see it, but you know he's smiling, can feel the curve of it as his lips press against yours. And then, he's kissing you. Slow, soft, sweet. He cradles your face in the same hand that's melted through the flesh and bone of countless men. His touch, though, is anything but deadly.

The hand under your shirt travels higher, mapping out the arch of your spine and the ridge of razor-sharp spikes running up it, and you whine for more. More of this tenderness neither of you have known in so, so long. The tip of his tongue drags over the seam of your lips, and you let him in without a fight. Sharp words fail you both in the face of this soft sweetness. The warmth that rolls off his tongue is still unfamiliar but not unwelcome. It seeps into every fiber of your being, liquid hot in your veins, molten metal down your throat. You should burn beneath his hands, crumble to ash and dust like everything else he's ever known, but you don't.

Your hands swiftly find their way to his jaw with a clumsy desperation, and sparks shoot across his skin as your scales scrape against it. He moans into your open mouth, fighting down a hungry growl, but his body betrays him. His hand hikes your shirt up; his hips roll against your own. He's kissing you a little faster, a little harder.

Plink.

The splatter of one, two, three droplets of ice-cold water against your forehead cuts through the building heat between the two of you, and you pull away with a quiet giggle. Phosphorus groans, a low rumble caught between irritation and amusement, chasing after your lips.

Plink. Plink. He sneezes as a few drops of water tickle his nose. Hiss.

With a defeated sigh and a final nip at your bottom lip, Phosphorus relents, surrendering to the battalion of leaking pipes. At least, he thinks, you're still here, laughing in his arms. As your laughter fades, you bury your face in his chest and breathe him in deep. He smells like the world after a thunderstorm, and your eyes drift shut as you commit the scent to memory.

"Don't let me fall asleep," you yawn, nestling yourself against him despite how his prison-issued shirt scratches your cheeks. "The guards—"

"I know," he shushes you, kissing your forehead. "I won't."

He tries his best. Really, he does. He talks to you about everything under the sun. Nuclear physics, his favorite composer, the time he watched Weasel spend five minutes trying to hack up a fork. You tell him about ancient runes, your favorite authors, the time you ate a police officer (completely in self-defense) and nearly choked on his femur.

Leaving before sun-up, sneaking out before the guards catch you, making sure you don't fall asleep so the scales you've grown above the tracker in your neck can stay up and disrupt the location transmission—they're all an excuse. Because, truth be told, all either of you really want are a few more stolen moments. Another story shared in hushed whispers beneath his fraying bedsheet. Another teasing touch that leaves you both wanting more. Another hour, minute, second. You don't remember falling asleep.

When you wake, it's to angry shouts and rough hands. One moment, you're wrapped up in Phosphorus's sturdy arms; the next, you're face down in a puddle of dirty water on the floor of his cell, pinned down by a guard that smells of nacho cheese. You feel the unmistakable burn of blazing radiation fill the tiny room, see the bright glare of his skin flaring like wildfire before your eyes, hear a shrill shriek of a horrified guard echo against the concrete walls. For a split second, you think it might actually work this time, that your fight for a few more moments won't be futile, but a skull-splitting pain rips through your body. You know Phosphorus feels it too when he limply lands beside you with a dull thud.

Your eyes meet, and with the little strength he has left after the shock, Phosphorus reaches out to brush his hand against yours.

Solitary confinement for the week is worth it. Every time.

[trevorsgodmother]

𝓞𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮… (M.S 🌪)

"Wish you were here right now All of the things i'd do" ☞ Masterlist

Warnings: Smutty smut, CYBER SEX, fingering, jerking off, swearing, pet names, getting caught (?), mentions of spicy pics teehee POV: First person (Matt and reader) Summary: You missed Matt too much, and get an idea...

(Your POV)

I'm currently sitting on my bed, bored out of my mind. My roommate was out for the day, and all my other friends were working. The only other person I could think of bothering was Matt, but he lived 3 hours away. It was annoying, the long distance, but we made it work. I wonder if he would be busy.

Then, I get an idea.

(Matt's POV)

I doom scroll through my phone, unwinding after the long, busy day me and my brothers had. They'd retreated to their own rooms, leaving my floor completely quiet, which was rare.

I was debating on calling my girlfriend, but didn't want to seem needy or overwhelming because we'd called earlier today.

A ping alerts me of a notification. I smile as I see the contact name. My girlfriend. That solved my problem. I click on the notification from SnapChat, leading to a snap. That was a bit weird, usually she just sent photos through messages. Unless...

I click the red square to open it. And my mouth goes dry. It's a mirror selfie of her sitting on her bed, in a blue lingerie set I'd bought her last month for our anniversary.

Holy fuck-

I feel a stirring in my pants, biting my lip as I screenshot the picture and save it to my hidden folder. Great. Now I'm rock hard.

(Your POV)

I giggle as I accept the call, my voice innocent. "Hi Matt. I missed you." I hear a sigh of exasperation from the other line. "You know I could've been around my brothers. Where was the warning??" I smirk at his breathlessness, knowing what's going on with him 'down there'. Even though he can't see me, I twirl my hair, putting on a slightly seductive tone. "Something tells me you wouldn't have minded." His breath hitches as he murmurs. "You're insane. And stop being all cocky"

The rustling of fabric makes a grin spread across my lips. "Whatcha doing then, Matt?" "You know exactly what I'm doing" His rough voice catches me off guard, and my dark blue panties are instantly soaked.

I swallow, shifting down a bit to get comfortable. My free hand trails down my body as I hear him start to grunt. “Matt-“ My voice is whiny, already full of need. I rub over my underwear first, letting myself get wetter.

But I can't hold back.

Every groan from him makes it harder to resist giving into my arousal, and so, as soon as my hand dips under my waistband, I'm in heaven. My fingers skillfully slide up and down my slick heat, gathering my wetness on my fingers. Every stroke makes me bite my lip harder, probably leaving a deep indent. I tease myself a little, then push my fingers in, gasping loudly at the penetration.

One hand is holding the phone to my ear, listening to my boyfriend pleasure himself, while the other is helping me get off to the sound of him.

My fingers moving in and out at a fastening pace causes high-pitched sounds to leave my lips, forgetting about my neighbours for a second. Not that I cared, it felt way too good.

(Matt's POV) (god grant me the strength)

As soon as my hand wrapped around my erection, I let out a deep sigh of relief. That picture had affected me wayyy more than it should've. Then again, I had carefully chosen that set to highlight her best features.

And it definitely did.

Her breath hitching on the other end as she heard me start pumping gave me a boost of confidence (guys i lowk dk how to write jerking off but oh well).

My calloused fingers felt heavenly against my hard cock, each motion making small whimpers escape my lips. I steadily spread my precum down my shaft while satisfying myself. "You don't know how good it is to hear your voice darling-" I rasp out. My eyes are half-lidded as I imagine her hand on me instead, her acrylics sparkling in the low lighting.

My stroking grows more erratic as I hear squelching from the other end.

The combination of her moans while she touched herself plus the sounds of her fingers working were sending me to the edge fast.

My hand quickens, hips jerking up in time to meet my movements. "Fuuckkk, baby- 'm so close-" I groan, eyes fluttering.

She whines softly, and I can tell she is too. "Fuck- Matt-" My stomach tightens, and my dick twitches as she says my name.

"Do- do that again baby-" She moans my name again, and I gasp as I tighten my hold and cum. I let out a guttural groan as hot ropes land on my hand and stomach, my eyes scrunched shut in pleasure.

(Your POV)

As soon as I hear him finish, my body tingles and the band in my tummy snaps. I cry out as I coat my fingers, slowing down my pace to ride out the orgasm.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, I wipe my fingers onto my bed sheets.

We stay quiet for a second, before Matt murmurs out. "You ok baby?"

I sigh and nod, then realise he can't see me. "Yes. That was..." "Incredible" He finishes. I pull my blanket up over me, snuggling into the comfort of my bed. "So, about that picture..." I tease. He groans softly. "Fuck, don't even remind me of that." "Why, you gonna get hard again?"

Matt scoffs (ominous music plays as the characters fade into the distance). "I mean, can you blame me baby? You looked absolutely delicious in that set."

My cheeks flush, the words adding to my post-orgasmic bliss and almost making me speechless. "Shut- shut up Matt"

I hear him chuckle, but my ringtone interrupts our moment. I pull the screen away to see who it is, and my brow furrows. "Hang on, someone's calling me." "Who is it?" He asks curiously.

"It's... Nick?" I hear his tone shift as he grunts, annoyed. "What the shit does he want? It's almost 8 in the evening!" "I don't know. I'll call you back, ok?" He sighs, grunts again in acceptance, and cuts our call.

(Matt's POV)

I wait for what seems like forever, immediately back to my doom scrolling. I'm silently cursing my brother for cutting our phone call short, since I was already getting aroused again just thinking of her in that set-

My phone buzzes.

I pick up as fast as possible. "Hello? Babe?" All I hear is laughing and slight choking. "Um...are you ok?" She just keeps going, her breathing getting slightly strained. Finally, her giggles have died down enough to say; "Nick- asked me if- I was over." I'm confused. "Wait, why?"

What she says next mortifies me, making me freeze to my core. My girlfriend, however, could not give less of a fuck that I'd never live this down with my brothers.

"He heard you moaning my name-"

A/N: First smut fic about my boy Matty B <3 (I feel so awkward writing smut bro) DONOT STEAL MUAHAHAH (🎀) Taglist: @hearts4werka @stvrnzcherries @spaghetti835928383 @pvssychicken @snowysosturn @sllutty-sturniolo @sturnmeovr Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws and @issysh3ll -Ropitipop 👁👅👁

[hannism]

5 WAYS I LOVE YOU — HAN YUJIN

synopsis how yujin fulfills all the 5 love languages towards you.

p bf!yujin x reader g established relationship, yujin being lovesick, pure fluff, not proofread. w 52O

link to navi — PLS REBLOG !

acts of service

tying your shoelace ──── han yujin would suddenly go down on his knees to tie your untied shoelace, you didn’t even notice it was untied. he’d tie on a little bow on it and stand back up, walking and acting like nothing happened.

picking up your stuff ──── sometimes you’d forget to get your ipad from your room, or maybe you left your bag in your class. no matter, yujin would go grab it for you so long as you’re the one who needs help. he’d inconvenience himself as long as it makes you happy.

physical touch

interwining your hands ──── one thing you’ve learned about yujin is that he avoids physical touch. he allows it from time to time from his friends, but overall he’d show his discomfort towards it. so it was to your surprise when yujin started holding your hand whenever you two walked side-by-side. ‘i only like it when it’s from you, silly’ he says, looking away embarassed. you can only think about how adorable he looks.

playing with your hair ──── you could be sitting down on the couch reading a book and suddenly feel his hands raking through you hair. at first it alarms you, but as time went on, you were used to it. not even turning whenever you feel him ruffle your hair.

gift giving

small things he finds ──── often times yujin gets dragged into hangouts with his friends. and often times he finds a part of you clinging into everything he sees. a cute cat keychain he saw? he’d remember of your fondness towards cats and buy it without a second thought. a bracelet he finds in a shop he strolled through? gyuvin would have to pull him out of the store the next second to stop him from buying anymore stuff for you.

special occasion gifts ──── you always thought yujin’s insistence in buying you expensive things for your birthdays were going to be the bane of your existence. but soon finds out he’d buy you things for special dates too — valentines, your dating anniversary, christmas. you used to scold him for spending so much on you, yet knowing him, he’ll never stop. how can he? there’s no one else in the world he could use his money for except for his sweet girlfriend

quality time

study dates ──── it was ridiculous enough when yujin first offered studying together. you knew him. he had a really bad attention span and much more so whenever you were near. you didn’t regret it, however, you knew amongst classes and midterms you were both bound to be busy. besides, you loved hearing your boyfriend talk about whatever was in his mind, its always really refreshing talking to him. not only because the way he seemed to be so expressive but also how active he is in trying to make you feel included in everything in his life.

sport dates ──── he fascinates you sometimes, truly. it’s not that you don’t know much about yujin, you expect him to have told you practically everything from his life with how much he talks to you in a day. sometimes it’s that yujin forgets to tell you some other things or thinks some parts of him are insignificant to talk about. apparently being able to play basketball is one of them. yujin was behind you, guiding your hands above you as you hold the ball, eyes on the net. when he gives you the sign, you jump and throw the ball. for the first time for the whole evening, you made a goal. yujin beamed at you, hugging you like it was your win as much as it was his.

words of affirmation

comforting you while you cry ──── rare are the times where you let your guard down around anyone. you didn’t find the need to show everyone how sad you were because you don’t like when people pity you. so, when one day yujin finds you curled up into a ball sobbing your heart out it was, if anything, shocking to him. yujin approached you slowly and let his arms slide up and down your back in comfort. he was silent the entire time, letting you have your peace without having someone ask you why or who made you feel like this. that’s what you love about yujin. he makes you feel like home.

supporting messages ──── whether it was an exam or a competition you had, yujin didn’t care. to be honest the only time he isn’t physically there to give you support is when he’s forced to be elsewhere (more like dragged). yet distance can never seperate you, especially if han yujin is in the equation. the amount of loving and supporting messages he’d send you would be uncountable. if time lets him, he’d even call you — an excuse to see your pretty face. he’d wish he was there with you and give you so much flying kisses until you were filled with warmth and love. you reckon waiting for him to come back home will feel longer now.

TAGLIST | nets— @k-nets

[tricksh0t]

★ princes don't pout

☾ jacaerys velaryon x top m reader

𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘩0𝘵 ⛥ i'm sorry guys this was ready 20 hours ago but i fell asleep (at 11 pm) then i was busy and then i napped

𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴 ⛥ 2.10k words

cw: Jace is 18 in this !! age gap, thigh fucking, ser as a name, handjob, inexperience, groping, some slight feminization

"It does not befit a prince to pout, Prince Jacaerys." You, a Queen's Guard and his mother's sworn protector, say pointedly.

You have always been a caring figure who looked out for him in every moment, but it has come to the point where you are an extension of his mother, quietly heeding her words and effectively keeping him trapped in his own home.

Your protection and your very presence make him feel safe; and your charming humor, in the rare moments you are not driven by his mother's words, bring a yearning to his chest. Jace wishes for something else from you.

He's got a crush.

A crush that has him blushing madly every time he does something remotely embarrassing, that has him doing anything to prove himself to you. A crush that makes him, though the moments are sparse, anything you tell him to.

Currently, you stare down at him with a disappointed look just like his mother does.

"What did you expect, my Prince?" You raise your eyebrow at him, making shame rise in his chest unintentionally. "For me to accept? I protect your virtue, my Prince, not tarnish it."

And to that, Jace simply answers, "Please?"

You can't help but chuckle at that, which makes him feel as though you're not taking him seriously. "What do you want, exactly?" You ask, after sobering up.

"I want you."

"My Prince–"

Jace wasn't pouting before, but he certainly was now. He tilts his head like a puppy.

He's cute, you'll admit to yourself, at least. He's cute, trying to gain the attention of an older man, thinking in his youth and naivety that something long lasting will come of it.

He plays the innocent card, with that pout. He's more clever than he paints himself to be, as he'd lured you into his chambers under the guise of "feeling unsafe" and cornered you against the end of his bed.

He wants this, wants you, and has clearly been planning for it.

"Alright." You concede with a sigh.

Immediately, Jace is pushing you onto the bed and beginning the long process of removing your armor. You know it is the familiarity of the belts and buckles of armor that makes him so quick, but a part of you thinks that it's because he's imagined removing it many times before, looking at where each piece separates and clasps together like looking for an enemy's weaknesses.

But he is all too eager.

"Wait, boy." You grasp at his curls and tug, causing him to wince. You'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on, tugging at his usually perfect hair and seeing how quickly he comes to a stop. "I will not bed you before you are wed."

"What?"

"I will use your thighs," Jace pouts, ready to protest, but you give his hair a tug again. "and you will stand it, because it is all I will give."

"But how?"

Jace's breath hitches when you pull him onto your lap. He lets out something of a whimper when your hands land on his hips. "You were so eager to disrobe me, focus on that first."

His movements are more sluggish at first, slowed by a feeling of defeat, but as more of you is exposed, he starts up a lustful fever again. Your armor is gone in seconds, clanging on the floor without a care, but then there is your underarmor clothing. Finally, as your chest is exposed, Jace slows. His breaths grow ragged.

The hair on your chest speaks age, strength, the mark of a man. Jacaerys himself does not have any, not yet, at least. It's why he almost seems enamoured.

His hand follows down the hair on your chest to the trail on your abdomen, his first time seeing a happy trail so prominent.

When his hands find the top of your trousers, he hesitates, the first time of the night. "Ser?"

"Yes?"

His eye is on the shape of the arousal in your pants, you realize.

"I want it."

He sounds so sure of it. It's adorable, because he's pouting again, because he wants something he doesn't even know that he can't handle without sweatwork.

"You may not have it." Your words leave no room for negotiation.

Jace hurries again, to undo your trousers and take them off, pulling along with them your underwear, as if throwing a fit.

He does not take the time to admire the shape of your cock like he did your chest. For a moment you think he might undress and force himself down on it, in defiance of you, but he doesn't. He's obedient like that; and though you know he doesn't like it when you order him around like his mother, he does not disobey, either.

He lays down on top of you, stubborn still with the way he presses his cheek against the warmth of your chest and looks away from you. His clothed thighs squeeze around your cock, but then he lies still just like that, because you hadn't told him how and he's unwilling to ask.

If he's so determined to be defiant, you'll do it for him.

Jace gasps when you part your legs and his lower half falls onto the bed. He thinks you're mocking him further when your hands, sickeningly slow and gentle, caress a path down his spine. He hates that it brings dragonfire to his cheeks and that it leaves shivers in its wake.

He hates even more so that when you reach the curve of his ass and squeeze two handfulls, it sends a shock through his nerves.

He thinks he's subtle, or maybe it's instinct, as he sinks lower down your chest and right into your hands. You push him back up, though, making him whine embarrasingly. He was just looking for your touch and you're pushing him back?

Your hands leave his rear, and he'd like to complain, but then they're pulling down his trousers and pants. It almost seems like his asscheeks bounce when the material is past the swell of them, making you chuckle.

The dragonfire in Jace's cheeks burns with embarrasment.

You know what you're filling pressed against you from his still covered front. You're not ashamed of unveiling it, but you're sure he is.

"S-Ser?"

You ignore him, lifting his hips with one hand and pulling the trousers off with the other. When you let his hips fall back down, his hard-on presses against your abdomen, providing just enough friction for a desperate Jace to moan.

His eyes immediately slam shut, and your hand comes up to his cheek to keep him against your chest, to caress it.

"Yes, sweet boy?" You answer now.

"Nevermind..." He replies sheepishly.

You push his trousers down as far as you can reach, revealing all the soft, unmarked skin underneath. He's just a prince, unworked, only trained, never been in a real battle. It makes it feel like a novelty, to be the first man to touch him like this.

"You wanted to know how, yes?"

"Y-Yes."

"Keep your thighs together. Use your knees to move and hands to keep yourself up." You help him at first, hands on his outer thighs and helping them up and down. "Do you feel what muscles that's using, boy?"

"Yes, Ser."

"Then use them."

He's sloppy at first, when you've just stopped helping him. His legs try to part instinctively as his knees dig into the mattress, but he remembers to squeeze them soon after.

He grows more coordinated and purposeful soon enough, getting into the rhythm. Soft sighs escape his mouth, not just because he's happy to please you, but because he's grinding his dick against your abdomen each time he comes down.

You grab a handful of his hair, just a hold. It's a reminder of when you tugged his hair, so when you speak, he listens. "You're grinding down on me, Prince."

"I'm sorry." Jace says quickly, in a cry, but he can't find himself stopping. Sighs turn to obscenities uttered under his breath, as you've finally coaxed his mouth to open. "Fuck."

He sounds desperate to stop, and yet he can't stop himself.

"It's okay." You say, the hold on his hair turning into a caress. "You can keep doing that, can't you?"

"Yes, Ser, I can." He says, resolute.

His thighs around your cock, squeezing...they're soft, so soft, like fucking into a cloud, one of those he flies into, and his skin is smooth, too, unblemished, unmarked, unused.

Your hands are on his thighs again, not helping, but feeling. Jace's moans grow a tad louder as you touch him.

You squeeze and meld the flesh of his thighs without a thought, just mesmerized by how good they feel around you and how malleable the fat of them seems to be, squishy under your hands.

"Ser!" Jace exclaims.

Startled, you ask. "Prince?"

"Ser..." You realize later that he is merely moaning your title as you provide him pleasure.

You look down at him, only noticing that he is blissed out of his mind based on his facial expression before another matter takes your mind.

Further down, you can just barely see the tip of your cock peaking out not from between his thighs but from below the curve of his ass. That too is unmarked, and for the night, yours. For the first time, really, he's someone's, yours.

You reach to grasp his asscheeks, and then, truly, you cannot see your cock.

Jace, on his part, cannot think about the perverted way you hold him as he chases his own pleasure. With each movement of his hips, he grinds his cock down on your abdomen unabashedly.

"Oh, Ser."

"Just like that, boy."

Your voice is a dirty whisper into his ear that has his body working past his limits.

This isn't what he wanted, but it might as well be.

It's, what? Delicious? The shock that rides his spine each time he presses down against you, to know that squeezing his thighs around you is pleasing you. He knows the pre that's making the slide of his thighs easier is yours, but he can't help but think if it like the slick of a cunt.

Jace shivers, his head melded against your chest. The hairs of it tickle his ear and chafe the side of his face with rough burns, but it's you, so he doesn't mind.

This is what he wanted, to have you.

He doesn't know that it's quick, but it is, when he finishes.

You push him down by the ass and still him, let him rest. He's a sweaty, spent mess against you, but you know he's happy.

"That all you wanted, prince?"

You don't expect Jacaerys to shake his head. He gulps back built up drool and speaks, "N-No. You too, Ser, please."

He tries to move his hips again, but between exhaustion and your hands, he can't. "I can't ask that of you."

"Let me see you finish, or...or let me do it!" He's eager for it. On shaky hands, he pushes his chest up and looks at you, with that pout.

"Princes don't pout, Prince Jacaerys."

He wasn't looking for the pleasure, not really. He was looking to fuck you, and you specifically, and in his mind, that only ended with you cumming.

"Please?"

"Alright." You concede with a sigh. You lift your hands, but then he's straining his knees and hips again. "Ah-ah, prince. Sit up. Use your hand."

Jace does so, gratefully. He sits up, on his knees, and his hand quickly gets to work.

It's like you've given him purpose, and he's resolute once more.

Unlike his thighs, his hands have been worked, training with swords, holding reigns and saddles and dragon spikes over the years. Still, he is a prince, less worked than any man you have ever been with before your servitude as a King's and then Queen's Guard.

That only means he's more dextrous and his hand works you up and down fast. He stares down at your cock, admiring it, as he hadn't earlier.

He still wants it.

But he'll obey you, like he usually does.

As you finish, Jacaerys smiles. You finished because of him, and he's content with that.

"There." You say, after regaining your breath. "Satisfied now, prince?"

He ticks some things off his spontaneous mental checklist: no kiss, you weren't inside him nor the opposite, no cuddling; but you wouldn't do any of that, either. You'd never let him.

Jace sighs, "As much as I can be."

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter thirty: Fractured Lines

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

previous | 30 | next

Series Masterlist

The room felt emptier without him.

You sat still for a moment, staring at the closed door as if willing In-ho to come back, as if that soft click of the latch hadn’t been the final word in a conversation you weren’t sure how to continue.

But he wasn’t coming back—not yet, at least.

With a slow breath, you pushed yourself out of bed, feeling the ache in your muscles from the tension of the night before. The bathroom was dimly lit, the glow from the vanity lights casting soft shadows across the marble countertop. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, studying the way your face seemed different, like something had shifted inside of you overnight.

Maybe it had.

The Panther Mask was gone. And you knew better than to ask how.

The thought should have unsettled you more than it did. Instead, it felt like an unspoken answer to a question you hadn’t dared to voice. A reminder that In-ho wasn’t just the man who shared this space with you—he was something much more dangerous.

And yet, you weren’t afraid of him.

You turned on the faucet, splashing cool water onto your face, letting it ground you. The morning was already creeping in, and soon, the world outside this room would demand something from you. A performance. A role to play.

And you weren’t sure if you had the strength to play it today.

By the time you left the bedroom, the halls were already buzzing with quiet activity. Guards moved in disciplined formations, their masked faces unreadable as they passed by. The air smelled of something rich—breakfast, maybe—but you weren’t hungry.

You expected to find In-ho in his usual place: standing at the main observation deck, overseeing everything with that same unreadable expression. Instead, you found him where you least expected—alone, in the lounge.

He was seated on one of the leather chairs, one hand resting against his temple, his other gripping a steaming cup of coffee. His mask was back in place.

For a second, you considered walking away. Giving him the space he so clearly wanted. But instead, your feet carried you forward.

“In-ho,” you said, your voice careful, testing the distance between you.

He didn’t look up at first, just took a slow sip of his coffee before finally acknowledging you. “You’re awake.”

“You left.”

His fingers tensed around the cup. “There was work to do.”

You exhaled through your nose, stepping closer. “That’s not why you left.”

A beat of silence stretched between you.

“I warned you,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual. “That it’s better this way.”

Better for who? You wanted to ask. Instead, you crossed your arms. “You think shutting me out is some kind of protection?”

In-ho didn’t answer, but you could see it in the way his jaw tightened.

“You can’t keep doing this,” you pressed. “Letting me in one second and shutting me out the next.”

Still, no response.

Your frustration simmered. “I’m not afraid of you.”

At that, his gaze snapped up to meet yours, something sharp and unreadable flickering behind his eyes. “You should be.”

You shook your head. “I’m not.”

The tension in the air was suffocating, charged with something unsaid, something neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

And yet, despite everything—despite the walls he built around himself, despite the violence that lurked just beneath his calm exterior—you couldn’t bring yourself to step away.

Because, in some way, you knew this was as close as he could come to protecting you.

And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want him to stop.

———————

30!!!!! We’re getting up there in numbers! I think I might drag the burn on a little bit more, I once read a slow burn that took 80 chapters for them to hold hands, I won’t make it that extreme tho lmao. Lemme know what you think!! :)

Tag list

@sunny21200

@lucinda-reads

@shakysif

@whoisbriannaa

@allmylovegoestomusic

@swthrtbyeol

@strawberrychita

@hoddystark

@livelaughcelica

@foulbreadpaenut

@write-from-the-heart

@angelofthorr

@sylviavf

@missroro

@siloveyourmoms

@luv1ze

@audrey223

@khaylin27

@gay4hotmilfs

@mimis-u3u

@captainlunaxmen

@cdej6

@ritaaaz07

@chateaumarmontt

@eepgirls

@ushouldhmhas

@fedstv

@dahliawarner

@fyodorssimp1

@nanamilkbread

@eveie24

@jackbootedfucks

@maiznamai

@r3va-dwme

@queenjang21

@kyohiru

@bibliophile-yomna

@rylin0987654321

@aubs444

@isuejehejehe

@nellabear

@cassielovw

@lowkeyhottho

@yxluana

@riri53

@enhasrii

@dumbfishes

@jeonmochi99-blog

@corne1iast

@kunikuzushisbeloved

@blueeclipsepaperstudent

@luna-looniesblog

@kat-thepoet

@hanakokunzz

[syntheticavenger]

Bad Decisions - Six

A big thank you to the commenter who reblogged my little story and gave me the inspiration to write this piece again. I appreciate you so much!

We are at the end of this tale.

Please let me know if you like it and as always, if you were keeping up with this story throughout the years, I appreciate you reading and being apart of my little circle.

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, angst, language, HEAVY violence mentions, mentions of pregnancy, murder, a lot of death, angst, mentions of breeding kink.

Mob Boss Bucky Barnes x Right Hand Female Reader

Frank Adler x Right Hand Female Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary | Being Bucky’s right hand gets complicated when he decides to marry a girl from a questionable family that provides no answers to his decision, only more questions.

“It was you all along.”

The betrayal in his voice is strong, his hands up in the air as you follow behind him, hearing the muffled shouts of Dot who is tied up on the ground. You don’t spare her a second glance, the gun still trained on the back of his head as tears well in your eyes.

“What was I supposed to do, Barnes? Let you burn down your empire?”

He stops in his tracks to answer you.

“Yes.“

Gritting your teeth, you look over at Dot, her mascara caked and runny down her dirty cheeks. She’s been there long enough to know he plans on finishing the job, her hands and feet bound. True to his word, there’s not a scratch on her, just her terrified eyes on you, silently begging you to save her.

All you have for her is contempt, remembering how quickly things had fallen apart since she had arrived.

How much you and others have lost.

“Steve needs peace,” you continue. “You spill any more blood and he’ll have it.”

“Did he promise you that?” Bucky fires back, turning around to face you, both your hands gripping the gun as he takes a step closer.

“Don’t,” you demand.

“Steve said no more blood. Is this a bluff? You’ve killed for much less. And deep down, you know I’ll kill her if you don’t. Steve’s threat may be a promise but at least I’d see it through to the end.”

A tear slides down your cheek when you shake your head, trying to keep your cool. Still calm and collected on the surface, as Bucky tends to me, as if resigned to the fate that is in your hands.

“Why her?”

Your resolve is slipping, forcing yourself to focus on something other than his intense gaze.

”It was an expansion. Business,” Bucky says, looking over at Dot as she whimpers.

“Business,” you repeat. “Look where it got you.”

“That’ll happen when you let your guard down. But you didn’t, did you? You’d known all along, trying to warn me. You built your own expansion, turned yourself into a made woman,” he clarifies, looking back at you. “Frank’s proxy and Steve let it happen. That’s fucking poetic.”

He gives a sarcastic laugh, lowering his hands as he takes another step closer, the barrel pressing into his shirt.

“This is your final test, you know. Steve’s not dumb. You kill me and it’s all over. He gets his peace.”

“You could have left it alone. It’s too much loss.”

Cocking the hammer back, Bucky doesn’t move at your action.

“This could have gone another way,” you begin, another tear slipping down your cheek. “I hated it, every minute you were with her, knowing she was going to betray you and you pushed me aside because you knew best. Volstagg is dead, Pierce is going after Steve and it’s all because of your bad decisions. And it’s because I love you that I have to end this the way it should have ended.”

His eyes widen when the gun is turned toward Dot, the flash of the bullet in near slow motion as he calls out to you, anguish in his tone when another pull of the trigger drowns out the noise.

-

Steve looks out at the city skyline, his men in the background as he waits for a phone call. Loose ends should have been tied up already, his fingers gripping his glass in mild annoyance before the phone finally rings.

“Promise me you won’t hurt him,” your voice says on the other end, emotionless as Steve stills.

“He’s still alive?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t think you’d go through with it.”

”I did,” comes your reply. “Natasha will see to handling her body.”

Steve straightens at your words.

“I said no more blood on my doorstep. I’m sure you remember our little conversation, especially since it wasn’t that long ago. You spare him but finish the job,” Steve says, finishing the last of his drink as he rolls his shoulders. “It’s a pity, you know. I liked you. But as I said, I enjoy my peace.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you answer.

“You get no protection. Frank will stand down, Thor will stand down and if Bucky knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay out of this once and for all. I’ll give you a day to say your goodbyes. You can’t hide in this city, doll. I hope you know that.”

“Goodbye Steve.”

Steve smiles, leaning back into his chair as he checks his watch.

“See you soon.”

-

Sam watches Bucky button down his black jacket, armed to the team before he pulls on black leather gloves.

While it’s quiet inside Bucky’s compound, the streets are loud - practically buzzing with the news that you’re on borrowed time.

“You can’t think this is a good idea,” Sam says after a moment. “It’s a suicide mission. You don’t even know where she is. She’s off the grid.”

“And yet, they’re still talking,” Bucky reminds him, adjusting his jacket. “Pierce is still out there.”

“Then he takes care of her and then Pierce. Or Pierce and then her. Steve’s lost his mind.”

Bucky shrugs. His friend hasn’t lost his mind - he’s protecting his assets, something Bucky can understand. He watched one of his own slip through his fingers, your gun carefully placed in one of his holsters after you’d kissed him goodbye, pushing him away before he could register what was happening.

“Dot is gone,” Sam counters slowly. “Steve gets his peace and quiet.”

“He’s a man of his word. More blood spilled, he’s going to keep his promise.”

Sam shakes his head in denial.

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Bucky smiles brightly, smoothing back his hair for a moment. There’s a clarity he hasn’t felt in months, knowing his goal is clear.

“Then you take over,” Bucky says, turning on his heels to leave. “Like we talked about.”

“Bucky!” Sam says behind him. “You’re no better than her!”

-

The waves crash around your feet, the first stretches of dawn on the horizon, not a single soul in sight.

Yet.

You’d said your goodbyes, aware of how you’ve been tracked through the city. It’s laughable to think that Steve wouldn’t be invested in your every move - depressing to know that the mobster was a man of his word, sending you a countdown when you were down to twelve hours.

There’s something to be said about the way you’ve been treated. Where there was respect for Bucky’s name and influence, you have your own, doors opening for you and knowing looks where there used to be passing glances. You’ve stood your ground even in the face of impending death and you have no regrets.

If you don’t let yourself feel, it’s almost bearable, knowing your time is almost up. Frank, bucking tradition, has offered to get you out of the country, going against his cousin to keep you safe. Natasha, for her efforts, shed more than a few tears when you had said your goodbyes.

You don’t feel an ounce of remorse for pulling the trigger. Natasha had come quickly but Bucky had helped, something you found out later when the headlines mentioned Dot’s untimely death. A simply placed article, wrong time and wrong place meant that to the untrained eye, nothing was suspicious, no one was the wiser - poor Bucky Barnes who suffered so much loss would no doubt lick his wounds in private.

Nevermind that you had it set in your mind when the tears had come, months of anguish and angst, culminating in his literal confessions of wanting to expand.

You’d built her up, put her on a pedestal that she had never belonged on, Bucky behind the scenes dismantling everything he had done once the truth was exposed.

A truth you had brought to light.

A jogger catches the corner of your eye. An upscale neighborhood like this has no shortage of unsuspecting elite, wanting to get their first run of the day before the rest of the world.

You’ve banked on this.

Staked it out.

The silencer on your ghost gun fits smoothly, not another person in sight when you see him get closer, your back to him as he jogs past, mouthing the words to a song he’s listening to.

Within seconds, his body hits the pavement, your gaze on him only for a moment before the sun begins to rise, walking toward him as you put your gun away. You don’t stop when you walk, snapping a photo of the man before continuing on.

Six more hours left.

-

“You don’t make house calls,” Steve greets his longtime friend, coming down the stairs as he adjusts his cufflinks. “To what due do I owe this occasion?”

It has been too long, this much Bucky knows when he sees Steve. Marriage and impending fatherhood suits him, still armed to the teeth but his eyes show a kindness that makes him want to lower his guard.

“I can’t let you do this, Steve.”

“Are we negotiating?”

“Call it whatever you want. She did it for me.”

Steve finally smiles, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“Love does that to a person. Makes them empowered, makes them feel untouchable. Makes them come to my door to beg for forgiveness.”

Bucky laughs at Steve’s response.

“I’m not here to beg for forgiveness. I’m here to tell you that if you go after her, I’ll kill you.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at his threat. He seems slightly entertained at that fact, merely nodding.

“It’s a good strategy, posturing in my own home, Buck.”

“You said it yourself enough blood was spilled.”

Steve tilts his head to the side for a moment.

“And I wonder who started it? Couldn’t have been the loverboy himself? Drawing a line in the sand to make sure that the one who knew him best didn’t get close to the expansion that you were craving. How did that work out for you?”

“You don’t know how much I paid.”

“But I do,” Steve says, circling him slowly. “My own cousin installing her as his proxy, watching her wield her power over his men without a second thought. She took care of his business and for that, she’ll always have my respect. But this? This cat and mouse game over a goddamn family who came from nothing and back to the dust they came… a mild irritation lodged in the back of my mind. Until you wouldn’t let it go.”

Bucky swallows at the raw anger in Steve’s tone, his fingers rolling into tight fists in his black leather gloves.

“She did what she needed to do.”

“I’m sure she did. Got Thor riled up after Volstagg was killed and he threatened me. Not a good look for the Norseman,” Steve says with a sigh. “That’s still lingering somewhere up here in my head. What he’ll do when he’s back to his full strength. It’s bad enough his wife took charge and killed Helena right under his nose. He never saw it coming. More turf wars when all I asked for was peace. He thinks I had something to do with Helena, you know.”

Bucky knows Thor was pleasantly surprised his own wife could be as cold as he could be, knowing the backstory of everything Pierce had put her through.

But this isn’t about Thor.

It’s about you.

“So then the score was settled.”

“I’m a man of my word, Buck. I said no more blood spilled.”

Steve’s vibrates in his pocket, getting his attention as he pulls it out of his pocket to study it. He’s surprised, a look Bucky hasn’t seen in years. He stares at it for several moments until it rings, Steve answering it quickly.

”Thor.”

After a few moments of silence, Steve nods, smiling brightly as he turns to Bucky.

“Within the hour,” Steve says before hanging up.

-

Pierce hangs over the balcony of his seaside penthouse, blood pouring from his nose and running down his cheek to his eyes.

“Did you think… did you think you would see yourself like this?” Pierce asks with a strained laugh, the waves crashing below. “You call the shots now. Far cry from a… driver.”

“It ends with you and me,” you snarl.

“So we’re dead,” Pierce says with a sardonic laugh, looking at the water. “At least I won’t die alone.”

“I’ll give you a chance to repent,” you pause, Pierce quiet as he attempts to lift his head. You’ve injected him with a muscle relaxer, his body limp as he coughs.

“That’s all you’ll get from me,” he says, saliva dripping from his mouth. “Was it worth it? Knowing the truth and being ignored?”

You think for a moment, fingers gripping his belt.

“Yes.”

With a final pull, gravity takes over, Pierce plunging down onto the sea as you watch. A bullet to the brain was too merciful, watching the waves for a moment before turning back around.

Tears wet your cheeks, your fingers shakily wiping the evidence of your emotions away.

There’s no clean up. Not this time, Pierece’s home in disarray from the scuffle that had ensued. You don’t even check the time, knowing that the hour is drawing close.

You’ve said your goodbyes to Sam and Thor, despite Thor’s wife offering you protection that you had politely turned down.

It’s just you now, alone with your thoughts and the idea of how much blood you’ve spilled as Steve is on the way to make sure you’re finished.

It’s a fitting end, you think, knowing he’ll snuff out one life and welcome another in a few months. That’s the way of life, especially in the business you’ve found yourself in. It shouldn’t bother you but it does, wishing that you’d had more time to talk some sense into Bucky, to not let your emotions get the better of you.

Somewhere your phone vibrates, looking around at the broken frames and vases, finding it on the floor.

Resigning your fate, you answer, wondering how close he is.

“Oakley,” Steve says in a greeting. “I have questions but not at the moment. The more I ask for peace, the less you understand.”

“Loose ends,” you answer.

“Bad decisions get good outcomes. I’m not sorry, Steve.”

“I’ll send my men out later to retrieve Pierce’s body.”

You’re stunned at Steve’s words, silent until you find your voice.

”And me?”

“You have my respect and my protection. Can’t kill someone who did me a favor, can I?”

At your silence, he continues.

“He’s at his wits end, threatening me in my own house. The balls of him,” he chuckles. “But I have to wonder how that will work, seeing as I told him I would dispose of you and told him to wait for my call. Do you think he listened? I guess you’ll find out. Goodnight.’

He hangs up, leaving you speechless as you look around, relief flooding you as you realize you’re not going to die. 

The door flies open, Bucky’s gun cocked and ready, calling out to you before you finally see him. A man deranged, his eyes red as he stops in his tracks. Looking around the fractured penthouse, he lowers his gun.

“Tell me you didn’t do it.”

“I did.”

Bucky looks away from you, muttering to himself.

“Did you want it to continue? To be saddled with the guilt? I finished it for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to. Do you realize he’s coming this way?”

“I did him a favor.”

Bucky shakes his head in denial.

“You did Thor a favor. You settled the score with Volstagg.”

“And Steve’s wife. Oakley was hired to infiltrate Steve’s territory and take out his wife. To finish the job he started when Steve’s wife was a teenager. He killed her father.”

Bucky is stunned into silence, seeing you sigh, your shoulders falling in defeat.

“Spared,” you tell him. “Is that why you were trying to warn me that he was coming?”

“To protect you.”

“Since when do I need protecting?”

When you try to walk away, he pulls you into his arms, his gun clattering to the ground as you look up at him.

“I saved your territory,” you remind him, your voice shaky. “Even when I had nothing, I still looked out for you. Put my life on the line for you.”

“That’s the last time you’ll ever do it,” he promises, smoothing back your hair. “We end this now.”

He gets down on one knee, removing the chain from his neck as you realize what he’s doing.

“No,” you answer softly, seeing him place it into your hand. “I can’t accept this.”

“You take it all. Take the fucking empire, I don’t give a shit. But don’t leave me again. I’ll be your right hand, guide you in any decision when you need the help. I won’t lose you again.”

Your fingers close over his chain as his head settles on your stomach.

“Don’t go,” he whispers against you. “I thought I was lost before. I’ll be done for if you go. Stay.”

Your fingers rest on his shoulders, Bucky looking up at you as tears stream down his face. The fierce mobster on his knees because of you.

“Yes,” you answer. “I’ll stay.”

-

In the middle of the night you wake, the moonlight shining through and luminating the bed you share with Bucky. Whatever dream you had is now forgotten, floating between sleep and awake.

“You have a meeting in the morning,” Bucky says against the top of your head. “The first of many.”

It’s too early to think about that, feeling him rolling over, his hands on either side of you. Your matching chains nearly shine in the moonlight, his lips on yours as you earthly return the kiss, feeling his rough but warm hands part your thighs.

“This empire isn’t going to build itself,” he says with a grin. “We’re behind schedule.”

[cigsaftersuh]

૮ a little something ྀིა .ᐟ

prev 𐙚 next

ㅡ my youth, your kitchen.

jeno stood outside your door, shifting the bag of takeout in his hand, exhaling softly before finally raising his fist and tapping it against the wood. he knew you wanted him here, but the worry he felt still hadn’t disappeared, he could tell something was off even through text, and he hated knowing you’d been sitting with it alone.

he balanced the takeout bag in one hand, the other gripping the small bouquet a little tighter than necessary. he had stopped by a flower shop on the way over, standing in front of the display longer than he’d admit, trying to pick something that felt right. nothing too much, nothing too little. just something soft, something for you, like you deserved.

the seconds stretched a little too long, and just as he considered knocking again, the door cracked open.

jeno’s stomach dropped as he took in the sight of you.

your eyes puffy from sleep, still laced with drowsiness, your hair slightly tousled from where you’d been lying down. there was a warmth to you, your face appearing softer as you stood, drowning in a hoodie far too big for you, the sleeves slipping past your fingertips.

it didn’t take much for him to guess it belonged to kun. kun’s clothes always hung differently on you, a little looser, like they were meant to be worn for comfort rather than borrowed on a whim. something about that realization settled warmth in jeno’s chest, but he pushed it aside for now.

he hated that he hadn’t come sooner.

“hi,” he greeted, voice softer than usual.

you blinked at him, eyes flickering down to the bag in his hand before landing on the bouquet.

“for me?” you ask sheepishly.

he nodded, not hesitating as he held them out. “i thought you might like them.”

you reached for them, fingers brushing his as you took them carefully. your thumb ran over the petals, soft and delicate beneath your touch.

“jeno… thank you.”

“and food,” he added before you could say anything more, shifting the takeout bag. “because i know you haven’t eaten properly today.”

you sighed, but there was no protest. just a quiet step back as you opened the door fully, letting him in.

he stepped inside, slipping off his shoes before following you toward the kitchen. jihyo looked up from the counter, her eyes flicking between you, the flowers, and jeno setting the food down, a sight far too domestic for have just meeting the boy only two days ago.

jihyo looked up from the counter, her eyes flicking between you and the flowers in your hands before landing on jeno. “you’re really setting the bar high, huh?”

jeno barely spared her a glance. “i guess so.”

yangyang, still sprawled across the couch, peeked over at the bag of food. “did you bring enough for me?”

jeno smirked but didn’t look up from unpacking the food. “obviously.”

his attention never fully left you. he saw the way you stood there, the silence that hung between you, the exhaustion in your eyes.

“how was your nap?” he asked, his voice dropping, quieter now.

you froze for a moment, a small warmth rising to your cheeks as you shifted your gaze to the floor. it wasn’t that the question caught you off guard, but the fact that you’d just woken up from a dream about him made the situation feel a little more awkward than it should’ve been.

jeno exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly before stepping closer. his fingers brushed your wrist gently, a soft touch, like he was offering comfort in the way he knew best.

“i’m sorry,” he said quietly. “i wish i’d gotten here sooner.”

you smiled faintly, the smallest shift in your expression, and for the first time today, it felt like the weight in your chest lifted a little. “it’s not your fault,” you whispered.

he nodded, his expression unreadable for a moment, before he stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your wrist. “well, you’re not alone now. okay?”

you met his gaze, your shoulders feeling a little less heavy with each passing second. “yeah,” you replied, a breath of relief slipping from your lips.

“come on,” he murmured. “eat first. we can talk after.”

he didn’t let go as he guided you to the table, his hand warm on your wrist, steady, grounding. he pulled out a chair for you, nudging you lightly to sit before setting a plate in front of you.

he didn’t rush you. didn’t pressure you to talk. he just sat there beside you, making sure you ate, making sure you weren’t overthinking while picking at your food absentmindedly.

with love,

© cigsaftersuh

@t-102 @niniiflwr @dudekiss3r @defzcl @stqrgr7 @imalwaysjeno @jeongjaeleftbicep @rubiiisyeon @jae10velies @cookydream @222low @dearlyminhyung @mmjhh1998 @gukuwii @hyucksunset @chenlesfeetpic @urlocalbeaner5 @taeeflwrr @fullhyucksunny @hyuksworld @nmmsmari @jeonghansshitester @hyuckleberriii @yukisroom97 @zgzgzh @tannieflix @olladecaramelos @haelvrty @nujeskz @kukkurookkoo @remgeolli @sinsgaybutthatsokay @hyunjinswifetingzz @axo-l0tl @blondiedae @jae-n0 @zhongzn @nahyuckers @katsulovee @minkyuncutie @gomdoleemyson @joonsprettygf @ne0sgotmyback @sunghoonsgfreal

[blacklegsanjiii]

Okay this is so random but Zeff and Sanji getting saved by FREAKING Kaido out of all people and he gives them permission to have their restaurant but declares Sanji as his second son and basically Sanji is the back up heir in case Yamato is still having his Oden phrase when they're both adults. I feel like Sanji is extremely protective of his big brother because Yamato while extremely Standish off towards Sanji at first, the duo do get along and Sanji actually gets Kaido to chill with Yamato by bringing up how his father doing that with him didn't work or something. Sanji keeps in contact with Yamtao and Kaido after he and Zeff are able to get their restaurant. He still joins the Strawhats and the story plays out basically the same with Sanji being more ruthless towards his enemies. However when they meets Ace in Alabasta, he's like This guy is the one who wants to kill my dad and bone my brother and is on guard the whole time. But he does soften up to Ace. He ends up having Kaido save Ace and Whitebeard by saying that Ace would be better to grow stronger and maybe he would be the one who could be the opponent that Kaido has been waiting for but Luffy still feels useless because he couldn't save his brother by himself. And then they all train for two years.

Sanji meets Sabo and K during the two years and they become a throuple. Sabo wanted to thank Sanji for helping to save Ace and suddenly they're flirting and now Sabo has a girlfriend and a boyfriend.

Doflamingo recognizes Sanji as Kaido's younger son and freaks out and runs away from the Sunny because he's not about to give Kaido a legit reason to hunt him down.

WCI happens differently because Big Mom also Sanji as recognizes Kaido's younger son and it's Reiju who's being forced to marry one of Big Mom's children (ethier Katakuri or Bruelle) but Sanji has to attend as a guest to represent Kaido which is when the Strawhats finds out that he's Kaido's adopted son. And he feels like he doesn't belong with them anymore. Luffy quickly makes sure that Sanji knows that he absolutely belongs with them. Also Big Mom genuinely wants an alliance with Germa here. Sanji wants his sister to be Free.

Finally in Wano, Yamato and Ace reunite first and then Sanji reunites with Yamato and is extremely angry towards Ace for dating Yamato Sanji's big brother and when Zoro points out that he's dating Sabo, Sanji claims that it's 100% different.

Okay so that's terrifying. Imagine Kaido rolling up, taking them to Wano, and then just dealing with that. Sanji has so much trauma and then just dealing with Yamato being standoffish and peak Oden phase and Kaido treating him like Judge treated him? Yeah Sanji's not having a great time. Sanji is straight up suffering and you add in Queen? Everyone knows but Kaido isn't letting Queen do anything. Yet. There's a threat of it but like with Yamato's cuffs which is wild. Yamato is standoffish towards the newcomers, the child especially. Sanji is avoiding him, he's loud and he doesn't him and Sanji already knows what happens when kids don't like him. It's this weird dynamic for a while when they first arrive. It's this weird and daunting revelation when Sanji starts feeding Yamato that he's just this kid like him in a shitty situation neither of them want to be in but are forced to be in. Also the food Sanji and Zeff make is so fucking good and Yamato feels like crying every time he eats their food.

They grow up together for a while. They're all a little more comfortable with each other and Sanji talks to Kaido about his dad, what he did to him and how it doesn't help anything to constantly be antagonistic. It makes things worse actually, Sanji should know because his dad had a funeral for him despite not being able to kill him and Kaido listens intently and earnestly which is very unusual because he drinks so much and is rarely sober and doesn't listen to things he doesn't want to hear. He adopts Sanji by saying if Sanji ever needs killed it won't be a problem for him, he's not weak like the King of Germa. Sanji nods and it feels like a weight that settled in his chest has been weirdly Iifted. He feels freer despite being captive, even more so after Sanji and Zeff head to the East Blue to open Baratie. Sanji keeps writing letters to Yamato, keeping in touch with his older brother and sends sparsely to Kaido who responds even less than Sanji sends. All Sanji knows if he's needed he has to go back, to rule Wano in his adopted father's stead because that's part of his deal with cooking at Baratie and being the second son of Kaido.

Not that he thinks Yamato would be a bad ruler it's just the whole Oden thing and Kaido being Kaido about it. Yamato eventually writes about meeting Ace and his crew, the fight and the vivre card and Otama, they admits to liking Ace a lot. Sanji writes back about the warlords, the East Blue, other pirates and the Navy. Sanji is also known for ruthlessly kicking people out of Baratie. Literally. If they drown, they drown, everyone knows they technically are Beast Pirates even if they don't fly the flag. Still, when the Luffy and the others show up Zeff tells him to leave and Sanji does. He smirks at the fishmen to take back Cocoyashi. He probably killed a few too many to stay under the radar but Kaido would not want anything else from him. He still writes to Yamato and when he meets Ace he gets to listen to everything Yamato didn't say, which he regrets. Let it be known he regrets it. Ace is fucking WHIPPED for his older brother and it's gross. Sanji has never seen love or adoration like that and he rolls his eyes and gags. Ace playfully shoves his shoulder and says he'll understand one day, the bark of disbelieving laughter is enough to make Ace frown at him. They go their separate ways and Sanji keeps getting closer to his crew even as it grows. Nobody recognizes him as the second heir to Kaido, which he's thankful for. He lets Robin read some of his letters to and from Yamato, he makes desserts from Wano that delight Chopper. He barbeques with Franky and lets Luffy climb him and cling to him after breaking his back and takes care of Nami's trees.

So when they're separated on Sabaody, when they're on the way to the execution out of pure desperation calls Kaido and begs him to help Luffy save his brother. And maybe he accidentally kicks a few Okama a little too hard. Still, when he meets Ivankov he finds out Kaido did help his captain, as did King. They were a big enough distraction to pull most of the attention to them and save Ace. Both still heavily injured but it's good. They're safe. Sanji spends the first few weeks training when he's accosted by a man in a top hat and suit and a girl racing after him trying to get him to stop and Sanji reflexively kicks the guy away. He looks dazed and confused at Sanji and Sanji is being cautious. That's it. Just cautious. Iva is chastising them for scaring the boy and they're apologizing rapidly and it's so fast Sanji doesn't understand it. He's just staring at them and Koala eventually stops as Iva inches closer and just claps their hands around Sanji's waist which makes Sabo stutter to a stop and have his nose start bleeding. Koala runs away, bright red and stammering an excuse. She's gone. She has fully abandoned Sabo and Iva is losing it. Sanji is looking at the man whose nose is just pouring blood and looking at Iva who just pinches the dress a little tighter on his waist before Sabo just fucking bolts away. Sanji doesn't know how to react to that so he just shoves Iva off and goes back to training.

It's a couple weeks later when the two revolutionaries come back and start flirting with him in full force, which confuses Sanji. A, because they're draping over each other and using sweet words and touches on him. And B, who the fuck would look at Sanji and decide they wanted him? Sanji is pretty sure Zeff and Kaido only kept him out of some sick sort of obligation, which is laughable. Kaido feels no obligation to his own blood child and is actively trying to take himself out and it's not working. Still, Sabo and Koala are flirting with him and Sanji is smoking his cigarettes while watching them, they're going all in. They are petting his arms and hands, lighting his cigarettes, calling him pretty. Sanji is repaying the kindness but damn. They're down bad for the cook, and Sanji agrees to a couple of dates with them. They go well and Sanji thinks it'll stop but then they keep going out and Sanji watches them kiss and then they'll kiss him and wow. Okay. He's also sold. He loves this and he thinks he's starting to love them towards the end of his training. He doesn't say it, wants to give it time. Even if Sabo and Koala are staying with him whenever they're in Kamabaka, they're adults, no one asks but the deliveries Sanji gets are well meaning and used. Kamabaka is nothing if not free, in more ways than one. They're goodbyes are sweet and long and they're so sweet. Sanji promises to write them.

And he does when he sets off again with his crew and Ace now, back to writing Yamato and now Sabo and Koala as well. His crew notices but Sanji mentions he started dating a couple of people and no one fucking believes him. Even when they pick up Law, he doesn't believe it. Then when they're in Dressrosa Sanji keeps getting looks from the members of the Donquixote family. Law is flabbergasted to show up when Sanji is strung up by Doflamingo and is back tracking quickly. No apologies or anything but Sanji is released and Law sends them off. When Law and Luffy demands answers for Doflamingo's cowardice he just starts laughing at them, they don't know who they're traveling them. He's not about to piss of Kaido for fileting the heir to the Beast Pirates, or one of them. Law and Luffy don't believe him at all and then kick his ass. Sabo and Koala meet everyone after when they're in the cabin. Sabo is happy to meet most of the crew and Koala is whining about Sanji not being there. When Zoro, boldly and mildly scared, about why Luffy's brother and his girlfriend are asking for the shit-cook.

They're the ones dating him. Law has absolutely lost it. He's not with it. Zoro is staring at the ceiling in wonder as Robin giggles about it. Sabo thanks them for watching after Luffy and Sanji, ruffles Luffy's hair, then they dip. Law just wants peace from this damned crew and he is not getting it, especially as Ace is confused his dead brother isn't dead and is dating the cook. They head off to Zou to meet up with the other half the crew and then they find out the Cook is gone. Kidnapped by someone and Nami is crying because they couldn't stop it. Sanji meanwhile is sitting with his family that he hasn't seen in years to prepare for his sister's wedding. Linlin had said Sanji can't marry her child and the Vinsmokes don't know why. Until it's stated he's there as on behalf of another emperor, Kaido. It isn't until the wedding is ruined by the rescue team, the assassinations fooled by his crew and some minks that Sanji hesitates going back.

"You're going to help us kick Kaido's ass right?" Luffy asks.

"Well yeah, he might be my dad, but he's still a piece of shit. Wano doesn't deserve him." Sanji says like it's obvious. "I just don't think I deserve to be on the crew."

"You're my cook, nothing's changed." Luffy assures. Sanji nods and Nami hugs him. "Also, Ace says you're dating Sabo?"

"And Koala." Sanji nods. Luffy bursts into laughter as Nami and the others look confused. Luffy says Sanji is dating his brother and his girlfriend, but he and Ace thought that Sabo was dead. Sanji is now realizing he's dating Luffy's brother. He's not happy Sabo didn't tell him but he'll deal with that later. When they make it to Wano they're separated, but Luffy winds up with Ace and Otama, who is climbing all over his older brother. Luffy says not to worry he brought Sanji with him, that he's willing to help the fight.

"Oh, Kaido's son?" Otama asks. "He hasn't been back in so long, I've only ever heard stories about him."

"He's one of the best people I've ever met, kind to his core." Ace smiles.

"Really? He's so cool from what I've heard!" Otama yells. "Yamato tells us all about Sanji's travels, he sends letters here!"

"Wait, Sanji writes letters?" Luffy asks.

"Well, since nothing gets into or out of Wano, the letters are the only exception." Otama explains.

"Oh, Sanji never mentioned those." Luffy says. Still things carry on, mostly as normal. Everyone talks about Sanji being Kaido's son as he looks at them all with just this defeated look. Most of everyone is staring at him like he's insane. He brings up that everyone should have known. Law is mumbling to himself about Doflamingo and everything. Hiyori is demanding answers about Kaido from him and Sanji is saying he doesn't know shit and that he was only allowed to leave with like the promise if he died and Yamato wasn't fit he would come back. But personally he would like to see Queen dead, he doesn't care what happens to King. He wants Yamato to experience freedom though, like he has. Hiyori looks pissed, rightfully so, but it still hangs in the air they were traveling with Kaido's youngest.

During the raid Ace and Luffy run into Yamato. Ace is wrapped in Yamato's arms as the taller smiles down at him. Luffy asks if he's Sanji's older sibling and Yamato says they are. Luffy laughs because yeah, he is Sanji's bigger sibling is BIGGER. Yamato is huge and strong as they make their way through Onigashima. Sanji is doing his level best with Queen and the raid suit he did get. Like it's all still following and then after the raid, Yamato finds Sanji for the first time and just grips their little brother to them and holds him.

It's been years. Years since they've seen each other, years since they've hugged, years since they've been safe in Wano. Ace is laughing at them, even if Sanji says to fuck off, he's still pissed at him for dating Yamato, kind off, not really.

"Don't you date Sabo and Koala? Wasn't that what I heard in Dressrosa?" Zoro deadpans.

"I don't know, I wasn't there. Also I don't see how that matters." Sanji argues.

"I can't believe you guys date each other's siblings." Nami sighs.

"Only would our crew manage this." Usopp sighs along.

"That's different, we have a girlfriend too." Sanji says. Yamato laughs loud and boisterous and free.