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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 3 months

Text

Trying**

Based off of the following request where Y/N is desperate for Harry to breed her already!

Warnings: breeding kink, objectification (female to male), sex (p in v), oral sex (fem receiving), cum play, breast play, dirty talk, cnc kink, free use kink, daddy kink

WC: 6.8K

When you met Harry it was the summer of the start of your masters program. You were brand new to town and had taken the recommendation of a few of the students from the previous cohort about some good, local spots you needed to visit. One of these places happened to be a brewery in the heart of the Arts District in Downtown LA, Styles’ Brewing Co.. You’d moved down to LA one month before the semester at USC started and you hadn’t really made friends yet so you decided to just go and check the place out. Worse case scenario you didn’t meet anyone cool and just enjoy the pleasure of your own company. It was a Tuesday evening when you’d strolled in. The sun was setting soon and despite the slight breeze, it was still quite hot so you were glad you’d decided on wearing a dress. And when you got up to the business, you smiled at the funky, little bar. The decor inside was like 70’s post modern theme, it instantly put a smile on your face. It was nice and cool inside and Al Green was playing over the speakers. There were a handful of people in there already, so you glanced around as you walked up to the register and looked up to the menu.

“Welcome in! If you have any questions about our selection, let me know.” The smooth British voice offered and your eyes glanced down and met the prettiest set of green eyes you’d ever seen.

“Ummm, actually s’my first time here.” You explained and his smile widened, revealing his teeth, the way his two front teeth extended a bit lower than their neighbors gave him a boyish charm though he was clearly older than you. He looked really good though, he had to be like five or six years older.

“Well that’s great! I’m Harry.” He greeted you cheerfully.

“Hello, I’m Y/N.” You said with a friendly smile.

“Well Y/N, are you a beer drinker?”

“Kinda…not really. Sorry.” You confessed a bit bashfully.

“That’s alright.” He chuckled, “Just seeing where you’re at with beer.” He assured you, “I know we have quite a large selection up there. So if you’re not sure where to start or what you might like, we can talk little bit more about your taste and I can give you a little flight of samples so that you can narrow down your options.” He offered and you were pleasantly surprised.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you!” You smiled, “That’d be great because I am a little out of my depth here. And honestly, I can pay.” You assured him. Just then someone else walked up behind you in the line and he looked past you.

“Hey, H!” One of the person’s behind you greeted him cheerfully and he smiled.

“Hey, guys.”

“Ummm, you can help them first since I’m still figuring it out.”

“That’s kind of you.” He smiled, “Have a seat at the bar and I’ll be with you in just a minute.” He instructed and you nodded and did just that.

After a couple of minutes he was chatting with you again, asking about what you liked and disliked about beer. What kinds of flavor profiles you gravitated towards, and things of that nature before he pulled the samples for you. He talked you through each one, he even swapped two of them out upon receiving your feedback on the previous ones until finally you found the one. It was the “Sippin’ Pretty”, a guava and elderberry sour. It smelled amazing and tasted even better. When he realized that you were there alone he spent most of his time hanging around, checking in on you. It got a little busier around 8 o’clock, but you were on your second beer by then and just people watching as Harry and another person tended to the customers. Before you knew it you were having your third beer and feeling pretty tipsy. You were giggling at a story Harry was telling you about his friend’s two year old son and nearly knocked over your glass.

“Okay, I’m pretty fucked up.” You giggled again.

“Did you drive?” He asked.

“Yeah…I didn’t plan on being here for more than two hours.” You said and he smiled.

“Let’s get some food in you then. How do sweet potato fries sound?”

“Like the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You said and he chuckled.

“Alright, I’m gonna put an order in.” He said before hurrying over to the POS system.

You did sober up quite a bit after eating and having a glass of water and you needed to go, you’d been taking a lot of time away from Harry. You flagged him down and he came over to you quickly.

“Thank you for the VIP treatment tonight, Harry. I didn’t know I needed that.” You smiled and he smiled back.

“I’m glad you had a nice visit. Hopefully one of many more?” He inquired.

“Definitely.” You assured with a blissful grin, “I should get out of your hair though, so can I get the bill?” You asked.

“You’re good, love.” He smiled and you pouted.

“Don’t do that. You’ve done so much already, the least I could do is pay.” You insisted, “Besides, wouldn’t want you to get in trouble by comping that much.” You added and he smiled.

“Well, I’m actually the owner so…” He responded smugly and you tutted.

“Well, I believe you’ve just lost your case.” You grinned.

“How’s that?” He asked, perplexed.

“You’re a small business owner, the backbone of the local economy! If the roles were reversed I know there is no way you wouldn’t insist on paying.” You said and he smiled. “Please, Harry.” You insisted.

“Fine. But I’m applying the 15% employee discount.” He said and you grinned as he headed off to the register without allowing you another word in edgewise. You hopped off your seat and went over to the register and paid, giving the 15% back in tip which made him tut as you giggled.

“Thank you, again!” You called as you walked to the door and he smiled and waved as you headed out.

********************

By the end of your first semester, you’d become a regular at the brewery. You had become pretty good friends with Harry. You’d learned that he was 34, so 12 years older than you were. You learned that he’d been engaged but that it ended nearly five years ago. He’d earned a degree in computer science and he’d made a pretty penny when he helped develop some AI program and had sold it and had made a large sum of money from that. So he moved down from the Silicone valley fours years ago to open up this place and it was almost an instant success. He was fucking cool. You had a huge crush on him. Not only was he handsome but he was sweet as can be.

When he learned that you couldn’t afford to fly home for the holidays, he invited you to his and his friends’ holiday party. And well, on Christmas everything between the two of you changed. Thanks to a very eye-opening kiss under the mistletoe, if you could believe it. He dropped you off at home after the little get-together and as you were saying goodbye you kissed him again and that led to you two making out for half an hour before you finally pulled apart.

“Let me take you out.” He panted before kissing your cheek and you smiled and nodded.

“Yeah.” You agreed with excitement lighting up your eyes. You really liked him, you sincerely thought he didn’t think of you in that way. Particularly because of his age, because in terms of interests and tastes, you had plenty of things in common. Regardless, you were so relieved that he was also into you.

And after that first date, things quickly heated up between the two of you. Despite how great of a catch Harry was, he hadn’t really had tons of dating experience, he’d only had two long-term partners. One during his entire time in high school and the other after he moved to the U.S., the one who he had been engaged with. And they ended things when he resigned from the job in the Silicone Valley. You on the other hand had lots of flings and little things here and there. You were a little reckless with your heart, probably the hedonist in you. But when you and Harry started talking more in depth about where your relationship would go, you learned that he only dated someone when he felt that he could develop big feelings for the person. He was cautious about who he gave his time, affection, and heart to. The fact that he was the way he was - attentive, caring, mature, stable, and wise - well, you started to fall in love with him quickly.

Your relationship with Harry became serious quite fast, but he insisted that you two wait until you graduated to make moves towards merging your lives even more. He proposed to you over dinner the night before your graduation with your parents and siblings there for it. A few weeks after graduation you moved into his house. The time you didn’t spend together or working, was spent planning the wedding. A year later, you two were married and just relishing in your new life together.

….THREE YEARS LATER….

You and Harry had now been married for three extraordinary years. It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but most of the time it was. By now, most of your friends were married too but the biggest difference was that they were already on the baby train. One of your good friends got married because she’d gotten pregnant and the other two had their first kids just a year apart from each other. At first, Harry had baby fever far more than you did but lately there was just something in the air that had you feeling absolutely feral for him. To put it more poetically, you had a need to breed. You were feeling horny every time you were around him.

Maybe it was the weather that was finally heating up? Or the fact that along with that, Harry would wear more t-shirts at the brewery. You’d get to see him lugging big, heavy boxes of produce or crates of glassware to and from the kitchen and bar, meaning he was constantly showing off his strength. He was so smart and strong and capable, and he was the best husband and partner to you. He gave you everything you wanted and more! So you knew that he could give you the most beautiful babies in the world. And lately, the thought was just ever present. Everything about him had you swooning.

Even now, just the way he would try to reach his big hands into the glasses to dry them properly made your pussy flutter and swell with need. Why were his arms so fucking big? And why did the masskrug look so tiny in his hands? You swear you would soon start to drool if you had to watch him any longer.

“What?” He chuckled as you just watched him from the other side of the bar top.

“N-nothing. Just…watching you. And your…big hands. And big arms.” You smiled and his eyes flickered up to yours and he smirked as he recognized the lustful look in them.

“What about ‘em?”

“Nothing really…just, I don’t know, I’m suddenly very aware of how…strong you are. S’a little distracting.” You shrugged and he hummed.

“Distracting enough that you shouldn’t be the one doing the payroll?” He asked and you giggled.

“Babe, I was an art major…I never should’ve been doing your payroll to begin with.” You joked and he chuckled.

“That’s probably true.” He joked back with a playful little grin as he glanced back down at the glass he was drying.

“You know what I’ve been thinking?” You asked.

“What, my love?” He asked without pulling his eyes from his task.

“I think I’m ready to start trying for a baby.” You said far too nonchalantly. So much so that in response all you heard was the shattering of glass as the masskrug fell to the ground. “Oh shit!” You gasped, “Are you alright?” You asked him and he glanced up at you with a smile and nodded.

“Yeah, love. M’fine. Just…surprised me with that one.” He confessed and you bit your lip to suppress your smile as his eyes bore into yours.

“I’ll get the broom.” You said softly as you prepared to hop off of the stool.

“Hey! No, no, no…don’t scamper off just yet.” He called out, “You can’t just drop a bomb on me like that.” He said with a smirk. You felt your cheeks heating up as the blood rushed up to your face.

“I was going to come back…”

“You want to have a baby?” He asked, bringing the topic back to that.

“I mean…yeah. Of course!” You shrugged.

“What brought this on?” He asked.

“Well…lately I’ve just been really…horny. But it’s more than that… it’s like…I can’t get enough of you. I just want more of you. More of us.” You said and he smiled, “I think that you’d be an amazing father and the idea of you, all handsome and rugged like you are, just caring after such a perfect and tiny little thing…I don’t know, it’s just been doing things to me lately.” You explained and he was smirking smugly at you. “Don’t make fun.” You mumbled and he shook his head.

“Of course not, my love.” He assured you, “I’m just glad you’ve finally come around.” He said and you rolled your eyes. Considering you were the young one here, you wanted to wait so that you could enjoy your marriage for a bit and have time to get your lives together before starting on a family. “But how do I know you’re not gonna change your mind? I know that you wanted to enjoy us for a while before we considered starting a family.”

“Well, it’s been three years…we’ve traveled, your business has grown, I’ve had my own exhibit like I wanted to…” you pointed out, “I mean, trying means just that, trying. It could take a few attempts and I’m ready to start if you’re…you know, also ready for that.” You said with a placid smile.

“Yeah, okay.” He said with a boyish grin adorning his face. “Should we make an appointment with your doctor?”

“Mmm…I say we do it the old fashioned way.” You said with a suggestive tone and he chuckled, “Just…go at it every chance we get until we get lucky.” You shrugged and he chuckled.

“Baby, as lovely and tempting as that sounds, I have work.” He reminded you and you grinned.

“Well based on the numbers I’m seeing here, you can afford to hire someone else.” You added and he chuckled.

“That’s how bad you want it?”

“Yes.” You responded quickly and he smiled.

“Alright, my love. Your wish is my command.” He assured and you smirked, “Damn it…” he mumbled.

“What?” You asked with a small frown.

“Now I’m hard.” He admitted and you grinned. “Though…the thought of getting you pregnant always makes me hard so…” he chuckled.

“Then do something about it.” You taunted and he chuckled. “I’m serious.”

“Right now?” He asked and you shrugged.

“Seize the moment.” You smiled.

“Baby…” he said, looking quite tortured and you just smiled at him.

“Come here.” You said and he came around the bar. You twirled around in the stool when he was before you, “I stopped taking my birth control two weeks ago…” you informed enticingly.

“You did?” he asked as he leaned down and you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Mmhm.” You confirmed. “Please, fuck me.” You requested.

“Here?!” He chuckled nervously and you nodded.

“I’m your wife, yeah?” You asked and he nodded before pecking your lips again, “You vowed to have me for all the days of our life, did you not?” You asked with a soft and seductive tone.

“That not how it goes… but I did…” he hummed in amusement.

“Then have me. Anytime you want. Whenever, wherever we are until you do what we set out to do. I don’t even need to come. Just need you to come. Need you to come a lot inside of me.” You said in a low and sultry voice. He was nearly panting, his fingers digging into your thighs through the light fabric of your dress. “I love you. I need you. I need you so fucking bad.” You pleaded and next thing you knew your lips were meeting in a desperate and heated kiss as your hands shakily worked at the button and fly of his jeans. When you had them and his briefs low enough to let his erection spring free, he pushed your dress up and tore your underwear off before stuffing them into his pocket. “Get inside of me. Please!” You begged hungrily and he pulled you closer until his cock was sliding through your already hot and slippery folds.

“So fucking wet. Ready to get knocked up, aren’t you?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes.” You whispered and he kissed you again. “Do it, baby. Fuck me.” You panted.

Without another warning he pushed against your entrance until your little hole stretched around his veiny, girthy cock. You gasped as he plunged deep inside of you on the first thrust, but you needed that. You needed him like this. Over and over, his cock rammed inside of you until you’d wince with how deep he was getting inside. It felt delicious. Your nails were digging into his big, bulging biceps as you moaned aloud without any care in the word. His deep, consistent grunts were perfectly timed with his thrusts, they made your head and tummy flutter with how deep they were. You were completely blissed out. Your skin was covered in goosebumps and your walls were fluttering and squeezing his cock deliciously. He was fighting to hold his need to come back, but then again, that’s what you wanted from him; his cum flooding your insides. Painting your insides with everything he had to give until he gave you a baby. Not just a baby, his baby. A product of all of the love you shared for each other.

Everything about him was everything you’d ever wanted. He was everything to you and having more of him in this way was something that you couldn’t even comprehend, you just needed it. It was instinctual to have more with someone who was so embedded into your mind, heart, and soul. What more was there to this often sad and destructive life than to make love and create more beauty to add to it?

“Fuck…I’m gonna come.” He groaned as he started to rub his thumb over your clit in swift little circles. Maybe you didn’t need to come, but he wanted you to. He needed to feel you spasming around his cock as he filled you up. When he heard your breath catch he smiled, “Come for me, baby. Come on my cock and I’ll give you what you want.” He panted and seconds later your legs were shaking around his hips as you thrust up to meet his deep and unforgiving plunges as you whimpered and whined as you came undone. Your sounds turned into weak little grunts that escaped your throat in perfect time with his thrusts until he was stopping deep inside of you. You could feel his cock twitching as he shot spurt after spurt of his sperm deep into you until he had nothing left to give. After he finished he kissed you deeply. “Did you mean that? Whenever I want?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, free use. I always want you, H.” You smiled, “Always need you.” You assured him as you caressed his face with the back of your hand.

“Okay, baby. But if you ever want me to stop or aren’t in the mood just say…hmmm…”

“Sour.” You suggested with a dopey smile, “After the first beer you served me.” You said and he chuckled. You weren’t always all sentimental like that, but he loved when you were.

“Alright, my love. Sours is our safe word.” He agreed before kissing your lips quickly. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up before Jeremy gets in. S’almost his shift.” He reminded and you giggled and pulled him down down for another kiss.

“Maybe delete the footage from this time frame.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course, but only after I save it…for memories, you know?” He said mischievously and you giggled.

“I love you so much.” You hummed happily.

“I love you more, my love.” He whispered.

****************

After that first time at his brewery, there was hardly any stopping Harry. Like you’d asked before, he’d have you whenever he well pleased. It was far easier for him to picture you growing with his baby now. It didn’t matter to him that you were occupied, he’d just get your pants off or dress out of the way and plunge in and you were more than fine with that. It even happened a few times while you slept, you’d wake up with him hovering over you, sliding his cock between your spread legs. Much to his surprise, you were soaking wet about 80% of the time and when you weren’t it didn’t take much to have you dripping and begging for him to put it in. He hadn’t given much thought to the baby’s sex or even names, he just wanted a baby with you and he’d be more than pleased regardless. Like now...

You were being stirred awake by Harry turning you on your back and gently prodding into your entrance. You groaned a bit as he tried to push in a bit but you weren't wet enough for his sizable cock yet.

"Just give me minute." you mumbled.

"I want you now." he said and then you felt a warm wad of spit land over your pussy before he smeared his erection all over it and then sunk in with more ease, "There we are..." he hummed in approval as he got about halfway. He sighed in relief as your warm and tight walls started to slick up around him quickly. "Had a very pleasant dream of you showing me a positive test. Woke up so fucking hard." he panted through his thrusts and then smirked when you got even more wet for him.

"Fuck, it feels so good inside you, baby." he sighed and you moaned when he ground into you.

"A little harder, daddy." you whispered, voice still rough from sleep. He hummed and gave it to you a bit harder, the soft smacks of your bodies meeting grew a little louder. And he gradually started increasing his force until your headboard was thumping against the wall and you whined out, "T-too hard!" you whimpered and he brought a thumb to your clit.

"You know what to do if it's too much, baby." he said comfortingly. He knew you liked to get whiny every now and again. "You say "sour", right?" he asked and you nodded. "Use your words, my love." he encoruaged.

"I know." you added, "Just...a little slower, please?" you requested and those puppy-dog eyes absolutely melted him to the core. His stern demeanor softened and a little smile appeared on his mouth as he stopped and then leaned down to kiss your lips quickly.

"Okay, baby. Sorry, got a little excited over that dream." He hummed against your lips. He then started thrusting again, undulating his hips in a way that got him right up against your g-spot. "Like that?" he asked and you whimpered as he started to grind a bit harder.

"Yes, daddy! Like that..." you keened and he groaned lowly as your walls started to flutter around him seconds later. He started to rub on your clit again until you started to tremble. You choked on a moan as your orgasm started to build far too much for you to keep inside. "Oh baby, I'm...I'm gonna come!" you gasped.

"Go on, baby. Let me feel your drenching my cock. Get you ready for my cum." he panted, "Ready for me to put a baby in that pretty body of yours." your eyes rolled back and your back arched until your body just froze and your walls started to spasm as your orgasm washed over you. The gorgeous flutters of pleasure bloomed from your tummy and rippled through your body, making your legs twitch and for your finger nails to dig into Harry's thick, muscular thighs.

"Yes, baby. Yes!" he groaned as his own pleasure built up to a point of no return. His steady rhythm faltered as he grunted through three deep thrust until he was holding your hips tightly as he started to shoot his sperm deep in you. You loved how he praised you for taking it all.

And when the height of it passed he only pulled out to turn you onto your side and then spooned you only to thrust back in. He lightly shivered from the sensitivity, but he wanted all of his cum to stay inside. You pulled one of his hands up to your mouth and kissed the back of it before sighing happily.

"I'll always take care of you. You know that, right?" he asked and you nodded as you hummed, "You're everything to me." he said softly, "I already love you with everything in my being. Can't possibly imagine how much more it can grow for you once we have our baby." he said softly and you smiled.

"I think you'll love the baby the most." you whispered.

"I don't know...you're the one giving me the baby." he reasoned and you smiled. "But what I do know is that you're my whole life. I'm so fucking fortunate to have you to share this with. Love you." he hummed.

"Love you, H." you smiled.

"Want you to do something for me, baby." he added, "Gonna send you some stuff I was looking up earlier. Stuff to like prepare your body and increase your chances, you know? Give it a try?"

"Of course, baby." you agreed easily.

***************

On top of the things Harry had suggested to you, you had also been implementing your own measures to optimize your health enough to successfully conceive. You had made significant improvements to your diet and even started taking prenatal vitamins and teas that you hoped would help. And since Harry owned and worked at the brewery you asked him to please stop serving you alcohol, no matter how much you asked for it, so your taste-testing badge had been revoked. You were also getting more rest and even started exercising more with him. Incidentally, this was something that just made you more horny for him. Considering that exercise helped you produce endorphins you were in a far better mood and up for sex more than before.

Maybe it was a little indecorous of you, but you honestly enjoyed the dull ache that seemed to permanently reside between your legs as of late. You actually craved more of it, especially at times like these, when you watched him working out from across the gym while you just kept a moderate pace on the elliptical. He was making eye contact with you from the mirror with a subtle smile ignoring the other people who were very clearly ogling him as he did his deadlifts. You couldn’t blame them, Harry was a masterpiece of a human. He was tall, handsome, attractive, and good natured. The way his muscles tightened up as he worked through his routine made you hungry for him in sinful ways. So much so that you needed to go and fuck. Now.

You got off of the machine and went to grab a wipe to clean off the handles and buttons you’d touched before asking him to leave. He wouldn’t mind cutting his workout short, that’s what you’d be doing more of anyway if you really thought about it. You decided to gather your things from the locker in the bathroom and then head over to grab him. When you headed over to the free weights area you saw a girl trying to chat him up, he seemed a bit annoyed but was too polite to tell her to go away. It may have seemed he was fair game because he wasn’t wearing his wedding band right now (you always reminded him to take his ring off when he was lifting heavy because your wedding bands were made of gold, a soft metal, so it could easily get warped with the amount of weight he lifted), but he was all yours and you needed him now. His evident display of strength had you completely drenched in your underwear. You could feel the steady throb of your walls even as you walked over. You could see him glancing over to the cardio section through the mirror, probably searching for you to help but you were just about to reach him.

“Baby!” You called out to him from a few feet away and he whipped around and his smile of relief made you smirk. He could see the hunger in your gaze from where he was. The girl that walked up to him looked mortified as she connected the dots before scurrying off. Harry quickly re-racked the weights he’d been using before setting the bar back in place and hurrying over to you. “I need you to get me home. Stat.” You said lowly as you walked through the gym and he chuckled.

“Alright, my love. Not a problem.” He hummed with a big, warm hand on your lower back.

In nearly twenty minutes you were carefully getting into the shower together, the foreplay was in how he talked to you and touched you as you got cleaned up. Everything was building up as he smoothed over your breasts with his soapy hands and talked about how big they’d get when he finally got you pregnant. Things like this that you never thought could rile you up were doing the job. You loved to see his big veiny hands playfully tugging and rolling your nipples between his fingers while you ground back into his erection.

“God, you’re so fucking big.” You mumbled as he rutted his erect cock again your plump backside.

“I know. Almost too big for your pretty little cunt.” He responded and you nodded in agreement. “But you like that, don’t you?” You asked and you nodded.

“Yes, daddy.” You hummed, already feeling a little loopy.

“Turn around.” He said and you twirled around and looked up at him, “How do want it, my love?” He asked and you bit your lip as your mind started to wander and imagine all of the options you had. Then, you glanced over to the bench you used for shaving, “Wanna ride me?” He asked upon noticing where it was you had looked.

“Yeah, can I?”

“Of course.” He smirked.

And before you knew it you were sinking down onto his cock impatiently. You slightly hissed at the sting of the initial stretch but kept going, pushing through the slight discomfort. You loved the pain of the stretch as he tried to fit inside of you. You sometimes grew sad over the fact that it’d never feel like the first time you had sex again, you’d only been able to take half of him that first time and you’d been so tight around him that he came twice all over your pussy and tummy. Riding him was as close as you got to recreating that. You loved how full you felt when you rode him, how it felt like he was so big that he was penetrating up into your stomach, literally rearranging your guts. It made you breathless and cock drunk so quickly. He was holding you up a good amount because the bench wasn’t as big as it looked, so you were struggling and your knees were starting to hurt and you couldn’t touch his big, taut muscles like you hoped you could.

“Fuck this, lets get out.” You panted impatiently and he lifted you up like you were nothing, holding you to his body as he quickly shut the water off, shampoo and all still in your hair. You stumbled into the bedroom and barely made it to the bed. He just sat and you started grinding away at him. You pushed his chest back and he got the hint and laid back as you started to ride him a bit harder.

“Put your arms behind your head for support.” You said and he did so.

“Like this?” He asked and you nodded quickly. His glorious arm muscles were on full display and you could see how even his lats were nice and toned.

“Flex for me.” You requested and he did and you groaned loudly. You just wanted to bite into his biceps.

“You’re so fucking hot, daddy. So big and strong, always take such good care of me.” You panted as you rode him. Your hands roamed his chest and abs, feeling the firmness of his muscles, tracing the dip between his pecs with your index fingers and then going between his abs like you were tracing through a little maze. You started grinding in a way that he could plunge against your g-spot and he moaned over you as he felt his tip up against your spot and his eyes squeezed shut for a second.

“Fuck, right there…I’m…I’m gonna come soon.” He warned and you smirked.

“So fast?” You teased and he chuckled before wrapping his arms around you and squeezing your body tight.

“You want my cum don’t you? So what does it matter?” He asked and you melted at his question. Normally you wouldn’t mind if he came soon, you didn’t necessarily need orgasms for sex to be worth it for you. What got you off was the vibe. His energy, being present and in tune with him, making each other feel good, relishing in the intimacy of the moment. But right now, you did want to come around him.

“I want to come.” You whined softly and he suddenly flipped you back to missionary and thrust deeper into you until you gasped and pinched your eyes closed for a second.

Harry knelt up to have a better range of motion and he started going deep and slow. You could feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you, it was absolute bliss. Over and over his tip was colliding with that spot inside of you that ached and felt like ecstasy at the same time. He then slid one of his hands up your tummy until he was reaching for your breast. He groped and squeezed and felt at it in his hand. You reached for his arms and just caressed his arm. You traced up his fingers and then felt over his forearm, you were obsessed with how solid it was. Then, you worked your way up his bicep, squeezing his muscles, feeling his strength. Then, you lightly raked your nails from the butterfly inked above his abs all the way down to where your bodies were connected. His skin was littered in goosebumps and his movements stuttered.

“Fuck…” he groaned lowly and you glanced up at him, “It’s too much, baby. I’m so close!” He warned again and you smirked. Just getting to be close and feel him like this was working you up to his level. Watching him be so affected by your feather light touches was doing you in. You tickled up his other arm and he shuddered as he squeezed over your breast harder than before and you intentionally squeezed your walls around his cock. You took the time to feel it all; how he felt inside of you, how his damp skin was getting warmer and warmer the closer he got to coming. How every time you bucked up with him, your clit would bump against his pelvis, that’s how close you were. It was pushing you to the edge, you were teetering on it!

“Me too! I’m so close, daddy!” You moaned and he started going a bit faster and you moaned breathily, “Fuck, right there! Just like that, don’t stop!” You pleaded. He was locked in on this place until he felt your thighs starting to tremble around his hips. He lowered himself and kissed you deeply.

“You’ve been so good, haven’t you, my love? Taking such good care of yourself so that you can have my baby?” He asked.

“Yeah, daddy!” You whined out.

“Fuck, I hope this is the one…” he groaned and you moaned again. “You’re squeezing so tight…shit, come for me. Come on my cock, baby.” He grunted through his hard thrusts and the tight coil of pleasure finally gave way and that tight feeling in your body started to come undone. Your hips thrusted against his without any concern for the pace he’d set as the pleasure just racked through you and wiped you out like a tidal wave. You could feeling it consuming ever nerve ending from the top of your head and down to your toes. You hugged him close to your body, letting your hands roam down his back and squeeze his ass, pushing him even deeper until he couldn’t go any further inside of you.

“Please, put your baby in me! Come inside me, baby. Come inside me, breed me!” You whimpered and he groaned as he started to deliver hard, unforgiving thrusts as his sperm shot deep into you. The sounds coming from where your bodies were joined were absolutely filthy but you loved them. You loved that there was so much of his sperm that it made a squelchy mess for you that could be heard. You were twitchy and trembly as he filled you to the brim but that didn’t stop him from slipping out and getting on the ground to lick up your cunt. His tongue flicked at your clit until you were crying out in over stimulation as you came again.

Your abdominal muscles were putting in work as your orgasm rippled through you, your spasming walls started to push out some of his sperm but he was not about to let any of it go to waste.

“Nuh-uh, this cum is for you.” He mumbled lowly as his fingers slid down to about your perineum before he smeared them over your entrance carefully to get it back in you. Just knowing that the slight gape of your tight little hole was caused by his big cock made him want to fuck you all over again. He stretched you open a bit more and was able to see his cum stuffed inside of you, right to the brim. “Fuck, there’s so much of it.” He chuckled lowly as you twitched beneath him. He then laid back down and had you drape your legs over his just to keep you at an incline.

“Think we did it this time?” You asked and he smiled before kissing the back of your hand.

“Think so… but as much as I want to have a baby with you, I wouldn’t mind if it takes a little while longer. I love fucking you like this.” He chuckled his confession and you did as well.

“This is not the position you want me in if you want this to take longer to accomplish.” You pointed out and he laughed a bit and then got up and leaned over you to kiss you slowly. You hugged him close and rubbed over his back soothingly. You wrapped your legs around him and trapped him against your body, koala style. He laughed at your silliness as he tried to pull back. “Not yet.” You pouted.

“Baby, we need to finish our shower.” He reminded. “Come on…I’ll fuck you again after. Really make it stick.” He said with a suggestive tone and you loosened your grip around him enough for him to pull back.

“I am obsessed with you.” You said and he smiled, “I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. I wouldn’t want to.” You added softly and tenderly before arching up to kiss him deeply.

“As am I, my love. And I promise, we’re gonna keep trying as long as it takes.” He assured you. “And all through it I’m going to take such good care of you. I’ll keep you safe. S’my job, as your husband to do that. My favorite job in the world.” He smiled as he looked at you lovingly.

“I love you so much.” You hummed.

“Love you.” He whispered.

>> Next Part>>

Trying update ask! (WC: 3.7k)**

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hoshigray · 1 year

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i fucking love ur writing sm mamas!

anyway. Toji making reader pregnant cause toji found out that reader loves kids <33333

It’s fine if you don’t want to. Anyway love you and your writing darling . 🎐

No, noonie, stop bc like, are you in my brain or smthn!!?? I was thinking about this exact prompt for a long while, and I see this appear in my inbox??! Well, well, *cracks knuckles* you've just given me the perfect opportunity mwahahahaha!!! This has been in my drafts for a minute, but I'm glad it's finally done! And omg tysm for loving me and my stuff, honey!! Hope I make ya proud with this one :') ilysm ♡

Also, I'm mixing in another request into this one since it's a pretty small request (reader sucking on Toji's Adam's apple as he pounds you), plus it makes things easier for me in terms of writing out stuff. Hope that's okay with the other requester; if not, my apologies!ヾ(｡﹏｡)ﾉﾞAnd btw, tysm for 1.6k followers, y'all!! Love every single one of you~☆

Cw: Toji x fem! reader - explicit content, so minors DNI - mating press - Daddy kink - fingering (f! receiving) - breeding - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up!!) - reader skips the pill - fluff at the end bc why not - pregnancy (test at the end) - pet names (angel, baby, darlin', good girl, mama, sweetie) - oral fixation/reader sucking on Toji's adam's apple - the reader has stretch marks on their body bc I said so - praise - overstimulation - clitoral play (sucking & swiping). Wc: 3.4k

Toji, by all means, was not a man deserving of children.

His terrible childhood and upbringing have molded him into an emotionless and reserved person who only feels as though the only person he needs to look out for and care for is himself.

So when the premise of children came to him, he wouldn't give it the time of day. That is until he ends up having youths of his own. Even then, he would do the bare minimum of taking care of them — food, clothes, shelter, and taking or picking them up from school. And to top it off, his job wasn't befitting of a father — a hitman going mission to mission for money that he used to spend for himself, now going to the needs of his kids.

Toji knew Tsumiki and Megumi were better off without a father like him. Fatherhood (or children in general, for that matter) is no easy task, and it's clearly one he's not good at.

But all that changed when you came into the picture.

Never had he seen his kids warm up to someone, an outsider, so quick. Even when he mentioned his children to you at the beginning of your relationship, you didn't falter and happily wished to meet them. And the day you finally did was the day everything became a lot brighter for the entire Fushiguro family.

Not only did Tsumiki and Megumi come to trust you with every visit, but their adoration for you grew tenfold the more you were involved in their lives. And all Toji could do was watch you do your magic, whether it be watching animal documentaries with Megumi, making flower crowns with Tsumiki, or playing with them and the other kids at the nearby park.

And the most impressive part about it all was you teaching and including him in how he could get more involved with his youngsters. Now, his kids are closer to him than ever, going so far as Megumi clapping back on his father's snarky comments and Tsumiki having the man play tea parties (to his dismay, but whatever to makes his little girl happy).

It wouldn't have been possible if he hadn't had you around. You were just such a breath of fresh air to him and any child that came your way. Attentive and caring to the young ones as if you were a natural at mimicking the maternal role. He knew you'd be a great mother to any child, especially your own.

It was that thought alone that made Toji think about you having children. Or better yet, having a child with him. Making you pregnant with his baby. Making you his.

Toji walks down the stairs after putting his son and daughter to bed, his heavy footsteps beating the wooden floor beneath him with every step. He then enters the kitchen area, where he sees you washing the dishes from today's dinner after putting the food in the fridge.

When you notice his presence, you look up and offer a charming smile in his direction, your face illuminated beautifully by the ceiling kitchen lights that the image almost blinds him.

"Hey there." Your voice is always sweet to his ears, still smiling even when you turn back to washing dishes. "The kids?"

"Just finished puttin' 'em to bed," your eyes stay at the sink, but you can feel his heavy footsteps come from beside you. "But they said I suck at tellin' bedtime stories."

Your giggle is heard through the noise of dishes clacking on the rack. "Well, maybe you're not using cartoon voices like I told you to. They like it."

"Yeah, no, I'm not doin' that shit." You chuckle some more at his complaint, and he grabs a dry cloth to dry up dishes from the rack.

It's quiet between you, but Toji will sneak glances at you while you work through the dirty plates. His thoughts from before return, and all he can think about is you with a swollen belly.

The mere idea of having you bear his child fogs his brain. Witnessing your body change and expand with the growth of your little one within you, it's too much for his mind to indulge in.

The more he thinks about it, the crazier and hornier his mind goes. Unable to function suitably, Toji sighs heavily through his nose and places the dish and dry cloth on the countertop.

You notice him make his way behind you, his hands traveling down to your hips as his chin rests atop your head. But you pay him no mind and continue with your task. "Hey, darlin'."

The nickname has you hum to him, eyes focused on the soapy sponge and plate in your hands while your ears wait for him to continue. "Yes, Toji?"

He doesn't reply instantly, roaming his large palms up and down your waist and hips instead. "Ya know I love the hell outta you, right?" He goes on when you nod. "Always takin' care of me and lovin' me. But that love also goes to my lil squirts." A smile creeps in on his scarred lips as you giggle at his way of referring to his children. "It's just crazy to me how you're able to have 'em follow y'r every step, yet I can't even get a hug or smile before they leave for school unless I remind them."

"Well, maybe if their father didn't always bully and call them 'squirts' and 'brats' all day, they would show you some love."

"Shut up," Toji flicks water from the faucet onto your face, forcing you to laugh more from your teasing. His heart swoons from your laughter, having you sway side to side with his body behind you. "But I mean it; you're so good with kids. Makes me wonder how come you never had y'r own yet."

"I just love kids." It was a simple answer. "Plus, I never really had time to care for a child. Got work and stuff, you know. And besides, I practically treat Tsumiki and Megumi like my kids."

"Mmm," he replies aimlessly.

"However," you resume while placing a wet bowl on the rack. "I wouldn't mind having a little one of my own. Now that I'm pretty comfortable with where I'm at in life, I'd love to have a little baby to share it with."

Toji lets your words sink in before saying anything. Now that he sees where you stand on the topic, finally, he can voice his opinion.

"Y/n..." he treads carefully with the words he's about to say. "I've been thinkin' about somethin'."

"Thinking about what?" You can't deny the uneasy atmosphere with Toji's mysteriousness, yet you listen as you turn off the sink faucet.

The two of you stop swaying your bodies with each other. "How 'bout we have a baby?"

Your body goes rigid at the question, and breathing subsides as your mind goes rampant with reflections too fast to comprehend. He wants a child—another child!? With me??!

"Like, right now?" The only question that escaped your lips, your voice hushed to a whisper. No one else is here in the space but you two, although the talk you're having right now feels virtually forbidden to the tongue.

"Doesn't have to be right now," Toji moves his head to your shoulder, his hushed, gruff voice clear to your ears. "But as long as it's with you, one more kid won't hurt, right?"

And your breath hitches when a hand finds its way to the surface of your stomach, his fingers lightly teasing with the flesh of your abdomen. He places his lips on your neck, and you bite your bottom lip to repress a whimper. "Mmmm, why do you want more?" You still press him with questions despite almost dissolving into his kisses. "You already have a gorgeous girl—"

"I wan' have your girl." He murmurs softly to your ear before lightly biting the lobe, and a moan slips past you.

"A-And...a beautiful boy..."

"I want your boy."

"Toji, please," you surprise the older man by turning your body to face him fully, eyes surveying his. "This is no joke! Just because I don't have my own kid doesn't mean—"

You're silenced when Toji brings a hand to your cheek, cupping a side of your face. "I'm not jokin', sweetie. I know I'm not the best dad in the world — hell, I'm pretty lousy at it. But you," he leans forward while you instinctively go backward, hitting the sink behind you. "You're basically a mother to mine and a real damn good one, too. And since ya said things are good now, why don't I make you a parent fr' real."

"Toji—"

"Like I said: it doesn't have to be today or tomorrow. But as long as it's you," his thumb brushes your cheek as he looks deep into your eyes. "Let me give ya a baby, angel."

All you can do is look into his emerald orbs that examine you for a response. The silence between you two is accompanied by the ticking sounds of the clock on the kitchen wall. And after a few seconds, you sigh and place a hand on the big one caressing your cheek.

"If I say yes," your reply has his brows lifted. "Will you give me foot massages and a bowl of ramen at three in the morning and not be a bitch about it when I ask?"

Toji gives you a smile, his scarred lip tugged upwards. And you return one to him as he kisses your forehead.

"Works fr' me."

This is how the two of you end up in the bedroom; the ceiling lights toned down to a low shade, clothes discarded on the cold wooden floor, and the sound of lips smacking fills the silence.

"Mmmm, Daddy..." You whimper through the kisses, your hands find purchase on his strong shoulders, and you yelp when he bites your lip. His lips gradually embark downwards to your neck clavicle. Kisses and light suck to your nipples make you hum in pleasure, and a gasp prompts out when his teeth graze the bud of your soft mounds.

A hand sneaks between your legs and nestles in between the lips of your southern entrance, his big fingers enter inside with the use of the soapy fluid of your cunt, and you wail from the contact while he sucks on your breast.

"Such a good girl, angel." He lets go of your nipple to coax you, his mouth sucking your skin as his mouth continues its journey south. More licks on your body feel hot, kisses placed on every stretch mark he comes across. And he stops when he passes your tummy, coming up to see the view of his digits pushing to and fro inside your leaking chasm. "My fingers feelin' good, mama?"

"Yesssss," you hiss, eyes sewn shut to concentrate on the pleasurable sensation in your slit. He chuckles at your delighted expression before he leans down to suck on your clit, earning a shriek from your puffy lips. "Stoooop, I-I'm too sensitive—Ahhaaaannn!!"

He releases your tender bud from his mouth after placing a chaste kiss on it. "Sorry, baby, gotta have you nice and wet fr' me." He sucks and laps around on your wetness for a few more minutes before withdrawing his mouth from your leaky chasm, substituting his tongue with his big fingers to swipe on your clitoris. Broken sobs seep out from you. "Cummin' on my fingers and tongue, that's my girl."

The throbbing commotion between your legs has your ears ringing and your head pulsing. You've already come three times for thirty minutes. He's such a greedy man, but whatever it takes for you to prep for him.

Speaking of which, Toji props your legs onto his shoulders while aligning his cock to your folds, lathering the girth with your juices. Your heart beats irregularly with anticipation on the rise, a position you're all too familiar with. Toji sees you gawking at his glans kissing your folds, and he sneers salaciously. "Ready, sweetie?"

You give him a smile even through entering your lustful haze. "Skipped the pill and everything, Daddy." And with a kiss on your cheek, Toji wastes no time and pushes his length into you with every inhale you take. And the both of you moan when the cockhead slides right into your vulva. Every inch of his dick descends into you, making you full of his size, and whimpers fail to be suppressed as he scrapes your velvety walls deliciously.

After letting you adapt to him, his hips start with a slow rhythm for you to properly situate yourself with the mating press. However, with how you're gripping around him, it doesn't take long for him to quicken his pace. Soft wails soon become stifled squeals with the bite of your lips from the growing cadence, and your eyes begin to water when the underside of his shaft grazes your inner walls.

But when the tip of his cock finally touches your cervix, a choked scream sneaks past your restraint. And Toji chortles. "Mmmmm, that's what I wanna hear." He grinds his pelvis deep into your cunt, resulting in forced squeaks from your tongue.

"Ahhhnnn! Daddy, please—Oh, Jesus," It hurts to think when Toji accurately jabs your delicate cervix, tears streaming down your pretty cheeks. "Oh, God, it's too much, too mu—Oooohh!!"

"I know, darlin', I know." He comes down to your face, yet his pace does not falter. His speed increases and becomes harsher by the second, and your head pounds hard with every rut. You nibble on his neck, sucking on his Adam's apple as he drills his dick into you. "Nnnngh, so tight on me, mama. Gonna make me go crazy."

As if he wasn't going crazier already with the erratic rut of his hips. Driving his cock deep inside and the sound of his balls smacking your folds is all you can hear. Your face is now entirely hot, matching the tingling sensation of skin slapped together between your legs. You dare to peek down to see the union of your sexes, Toji's member now harboring a white ring near the base. Strings of your slick and his spit keep you two connected during this moment, and more incoherent shrieks are pulled from your throat.

"Nnnaaaaa, ahhhaaaa!!! D-Daddy, please!!" While there's uncertainty about whether your pleas will be heard, you still express yourself to him. "It's coming, it's coming! I'm gonna cum, gonna cummmm!! Nnnmmph!!" And when he comes down to you with his complete weight caging you in, the pressure of his body has you submit to him completely.

"Yeah, wanna cum on Daddy's dick." He says with his condescending, guttural tone that almost makes you melt onto the satin sheets beneath you. "G' ahead, mama—Hmmph! Make a nice mess while I finish here..." His strokes become ever intenser than before; his length brushes your inner walls, and continuous pokes to your cervix prompt your orgasm to climb faster. And you soon fall into a wave of pure ecstasy, your cunt clamping around him desperately while your body trembles.

And Toji is forced to fall into a release of his own when the walls of your slit contract around him, spilling into you with the flex of his abdomen. His sweaty body is on top of yours, and your breathing matches his as you two experience each crescendo.

Heavy exhales sync as you two calm down within your intimate embrace. Your mind slowly returns from its foggy state with the calm atmosphere soothing your body, and your quivers now subsided while the older man lays kisses and sucks on your neck. But it comes to a halt when a sudden yelp comes from your swollen lips because he thrusts into you again, even with your vulva being extremely sensitive.

He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, and it's not to your surprise that he has a smirk on that dumb, handsome face of his. His lips curled to where his teeth peek from under his scar. "Ya know I gotta fuck you more than once, right, sweetie? Make sure you're all filled up 'n all."

You suck your teeth with furrowed brows, but a smile comes up with breathless giggles. "I'm telling you, Mr. Fushiguro, you're most definitely treating me to daily foot massages when I get pregnant."

"Whatever you say," he shuts your threats with a kiss on your soft lips. "My pretty darlin'..."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Toji twiddles with something in his hand while you lay on his chest in the shared bedroom. The kids were taking a nap after coming from school, leaving the two of you to enjoy the leisure of each other's company.

But today was a different day compared to any other. Because even if you two are looking at the television with the old rom-com displayed, neither of you is actually watching. Too busy distracted with the smiles plastered on your faces to care for what's on the screen. The only thing corrupting your minds is a matter that has you two in glee after a week of anticipation and mutual work.

The man peers at his hand to look at the object between Toji's fingers. Nothing but a pink and white stick — a pregnancy test. And at the center of the device conveyed two red lines, the signature implication that you were indeed with a child. His child.

"Hey, Toji," the call of his name has him look down at you, still facing the television despite your attention not wholly on it. "What do you think they are?"

"Hmm?" It takes a few seconds for it to click until he notices your hand brushing around your belly. He chuckles. "I'm hopin' for a girl. Wan' 'em to look and act like you."

You hum aimlessly at his answer before you berate him with more of your thoughts. "What if it's a boy? I think it'd be cute to have another mini-you running around the house."

"Nah, one mini-me is enough, and he already talks back to me like he's a teen." You giggle at the light sour face he shows and his complaints about Megumi. "Besides, I don't want another me. I'm already a lousy dad, and I didn't have the best childhood. I wouldn't want you to deal with a child that's exactly like me..."

Silence ensues with the answer; it's the only response you deem appropriate. That was the case until you say what was next on your mind.

"Toji, I'm sure your upbringing wasn't the best because people weren't there for you when you needed them. And although that's shaped you into the man I love, even I wouldn't want you to go through all that for a second time." You can feel the weight of his green eyes on you while you speak, though you don't turn to face him. "Nevertheless, times are different. You have me to love and care for you now—you and your beautiful children. You might not be the best dad in the world, but you've done a great job taking care of them."

"Thanks to you." He interrupts you, and you laugh.

"Yes, thanks to me. And because you have me, this little one won't be going through what you went through. I promise you, you're not alone in this. Because I'm pretty scared as this is my first pregnancy. But that's okay since I have you to take care of me. I'll be there to help you, and you'll be there to help me. As long as that's true, we'll do just fine."

Taken aback by your response, the older man turns to the pregnancy test still in his hand. The more he looks at the device, the more he ponders what you said. And a small smile creeps up on him, coming to a decision himself. At this point, it doesn't matter what the sex of the child will be to him. What warms his heart is that you promise to be by his side, helping him watch your little one — his child — his family grow as the days and years pass.

"Now," your voice brings him back to the present, whipping his head back to you. "I can't say the same if we end up with twins. Because you'll just have to deal with one while I have the other."

Toji puts the pregnancy test on the nightstand and goes for your nose to pinch it. "Fuckin' kid, who told you were funny, huh?" Your laughter only fuels him to mess with you more, but that's okay. He's smiling at your silliness, and that's all you want right now.

Because, even if they're not here yet, no child should have a father who doesn't know how to smile.

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trappolia · 5 months

Text

PUT ALL YOUR FAULTS TO BED (YOU CAN BE KING AGAIN)── leona kingscholar x gn!reader, 1.1k

some days, leona thinks about what the word king means to him and how it links back to you.

contrary to popular belief, he does not so easily forget the whispers of rumours behind his back; though, loathe as he is to admit, leona knows that some are less rumour and more truth, no matter how spiteful. he is a prince, after all, and not some spoiled rotten child who's had compliments fed to him on a golden spoon.

leona knows, better than anyone, that you deserve more than him.

he’s well aware of the fact that many perceive him as lazy, irritable and intimidating, and that is only saying the least. the perfect example of a student who has had to repeat a year way too many times, who is probably still in the world’s greatest magical academy because of his royal blood and noble connections.

the second prince is one way to describe him as well. second to everything his brother does is also a possible description. second to the throne, to their parents’ love, to the praise and glory befitting of a king. because leona will never be king. not as long as his brother and his blood live, because leona has always been the second option.

and so he acts like it. what else can he do? surely he cannot try to usurp his own brother; leona may be a better king than falena, but he is also intelligent enough to understand the consequences of a coup, long-term or otherwise. not to mention his nephew, who undoubtedly has the capacity to be a real pain in his ass if leona ever does away with his father.

now leona spends most of his time bored and unpleasant to be around, not so unlike the whispers that circulated the halls of afterglow savannah's royal palace when his signature spell was discovered. it is when you find him, lazing around in the light of the sun creeping into the greenhouse (one of the only times he has ever felt that he has ever felt that he could escape from the shadows), and, for one reason or another, you decide to stay.

leona hates it.

he hates the way you shine a light in his life. it’s too bright, too hot, and he can’t get rid of you no matter how hard he tries. and, at some point, he has become too scared to get rid of you. the underlying fear of losing that light, reduced to the shadow of a king and a crown prince that he once was; it kills leona. it kills him because he was supposed to be a king, grew up wanting to be the perfect one to rule over the kingdom, and kings do not have weaknesses.

but leona is not a king.

he is the brother of one, the second son of a royal family. with enough skills and intellect to survive in the battlefield that is the royal court of the afterglow savannah. he is born to a long line of kings, emperors, leaders; has learned from the stories of the great kings of the past, of which their blood courses through his veins; but he is not a king. never was, and never will be.

but then again, who is to say that he isn’t a king in another sense?

"the only kingly thing you haven’t done yet is actually opening your eyes, leona," ruggie’s damned hyena laugh echoes in his mind, the mischievous smirk on his face while his eyes stay rooted to the pathetic homemade crown on his head.

leona does not think ruggie has the right to laugh, when he doesn't even understand.

because even with his eyes closed, the second prince sees. he sees the way your breaths come and go, the warmth of the sun and the chill of the breeze on your skin, your quickening pulse and heartbeat. he sees it all without ever needing his eyes, and that is the exact reason why he doesn’t want to open them.

because if he does, he will see you, backlit against the sun and light of the greenhouse you both visit so much, and then he will want more; you by his side in the kingdom of afterglow savannah, bathing in the morning light while wrapped in royal robes, the consort's crown on your head, your rightful place on the throne beside his. you cradling his cub in your arms, sweetly whispering to the result of your love, the future ruler of the afterglow savannah. leona knows that there is none other more deserving of a consort's crown than you, and he would kill anyone who tried to take it from you.

(he would kill for you in a heartbeat. no matter what the cost.

one day, leona thinks, he will not be the only one to fear the extent of what he feels for you.)

but what murder is justified when the crime hasn’t even been committed? when you don’t have the consort's crown, because leona doesn’t even have the king’s.

(child’s play. reaching for something he will never get. leona is a master at this game, even when he loses every single time.)

silly lion, you would chide him with a smile. not for these foolish fantasies (for leona would never admit them), but for the most mundane things. being late to class, forgetting to do homework, getting detention, forgetting to go to that detention. such simple, pathetic things, and leona listens because you are his consort, and kings listen to their consorts.

(pathetic, hopeless little fantasies.)

"leona?" you call out his name, your voice the melody of his sweetest, softest, weakest dreams.

leona's eyes flutter open, lashes brushing against his cheeks as he blinks in the light.

he sees you there, bent over to peer at his sleeping expression. the way your head eclipses the sun makes it seem like you’re wearing a halo (angel’s crown), and if leona looks closely, he can see his own kisses tangled between your locks and the light.

he closes his eyes before he can meet your gaze, see your lips and everything else he’s ever wanted. he will settle for sense and touch, if not for the sake of his sanity, then for you.

"what is it now?" he snarls, feigning annoyance. he hears you laugh, and leona knows you see right through him.

just give him some more time, then he will give you a kingdom, the world, and everything else you’ve ever wanted and deserved──

──but for now, this will be all he can offer you.

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ghostfacd · 10 months

Text

you’ll see my face in every place (but you can’t catch me now)

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!capitol!reader

summary: you were finally dead, so why did you show up everyday in Coriolanus’s life?

warnings: coriolanus is a sick motherf, seriously sick. mentions of sex, mentions of killing & snakes, reader finally getting justice in end (sorta?)

part 1 | can be read off as standalone but recommend reading for context

Coriolanus Snow was utterly and undeniably fucked. He absolutely was.

He was sure when he had gotten rid of Sejanus, Lucy Gray, and you—that that was the end of it, and no one would hear about it again. After all, the Plinths and Ciceros took in Coriolanus like a son, thanking them for taking such good care of their son and daughter when they couldn’t.

And it wasn’t like Coriolanus Snow was some idiot. He knew how to cover up his tracks, and he knew how to do it good. If there’s one thing about him, it’s that he believes if one truly wants to get rid of something, one should do all in his power to make it happen. And that’s what Coriolanus did. He erased every trace of Lucy Gray Baird and Sejanus, and hopefully, you.

Coriolanus woke up one morning in the Cicero estate feeling extremely cold. He looked outside to see snow, which made his lips quirk up in a sly smile. Your parents were devastated over your death, Mrs. Cicero automatically offering Coriolanus your bedroom because she couldn’t stand her only daughter being gone.

- - -

Coriolanus opens your closet, a walk-in closet that not even the whole District 1 would be able to afford. Gosh, he remembered the first time he was here and you were showing him a pretty short dress that covered nothing, and how he wanted to take you right then and there. He did minutes after, and that short dress was long discarded on the floor.

But now your presence was gone, just your clothes that were still there. Mr. Cicero refused for the maids to get rid of it; he said he wanted to remember his daughter for the lovely fashionable girl she was. Coriolanus looked through your sweaters, much were pink or white, but Corio found a dark blue one that was gender neutral that he liked.

Although it was just polyester, Coriolanus felt chills as he wore it. He swore he took in a whiff of your perfume. How could that have been possible? It was weeks after yours and Sejanus’s death, weeks after he went back to the Capitol with a fake sob story and bloodshot eyes. There was no way—just absolutely no way that your perfume could still be lingering on this old polyester sweater.

Snow gasps. A loud sound hits your window, a bird, he assumes. And as he gets closer, his suspicions are confirmed when he sees a unconscious bird on the floor, with snow melting around it.

Snow melting. Snow. Melting.

Coriolanus needed to get out of his own head. It wasn’t healthy.

He was now an apprentice to Dr. Gaul, a spot that brought him enormous pride. Soon, he’ll take over all of Panem, and make sure any remaining rebels would be expelled, or better yet, executed.

“Hey,”

Was Coriolanus going crazy? He was so sure he heard your voice in the trees, just right outside your estate. Mrs. Cicero, your mother, had expressed how much you liked planting, and it was evident from the amount of tall bark trees littering around the entire home.

In the lab, Dr. Gaul was teaching Coriolanus how to be gentle with the snakes so he wouldn’t get bitten like poor Clemensia had before the 10th Hunger Games even started. He thought she was long dead by now, but she had came to him a few weeks prior yelling about how she can’t believe he never visited her in the hospital. Coriolanus didn’t outright tell her—but he saw fading scales all over her neck. The turtleneck wasn’t doing her any good.

“Alright, here you go,” Dr. Gaul says gently, handing Coriolanus one of the longer snakes. He looked into its eyes, and was horrified to see your eyes stare back at him. He shrieked, flapping the snake into the air and blinking a few times to make sure he wasn’t going crazy.

“What is wrong with you Mr. Snow?!” Dr. Gaul asks, astonished by her star pupil’s behavior.

He only gulps, excusing himself home early that day.

- - -

“Oh Corio, I wanted you to have this,” Mr. Cicero approached him as he sat in front of your giant vanity. He was holding a few printed photographs of you and Coriolanus, huddled up together, looking as cute of a couple as ever. He remembered those moments, where you were smiling like crazy as you looked up at him with the doe eyes he seem to have been missing lately. “You know my daughter really loved you. And I’m not a man of many words—but I want to thank you for being there for her. She loved you so much she begged me to let her go to district 12 to be with you and Sejanus again. I hate the way things happened, but at least I know she was loved by you.”

And slowly, Snow starts to crack.

When the Ciceros had fallen asleep, he lit the fireplace, watching as the fire slowly get taller. He takes one good look at the photographs, then throws them in with the flames. He gave his blood, sweat, and tears for this moment. To finally be in a huge estate, to be with loving parents, to be an apprentice to the most important doctor in the Capitol. He deserved this. He did. He gave up his best friend, he gave up his own tribute, Lucy Gray—not that she mattered or anything because Coriolanus established a clear line in his head that she was simply just a district scum who was lucky enough to win because of him. And lastly, he gave up his girlfriend, Y/N Cicero, you, for this.

Coriolanus Snow was not going to let anything get in the way of his goal.

- - -

The next week, Coriolanus suggests the Ciceros throw a party to memorialize you. Coriolanus thinks of this big, grand, emotional speech. He’ll tell everyone how much of a sweetheart you were, how much you two were inlove. Then he’d get stern—saying that he’ll make sure your death won’t be forgotten, especially when he plans on running for president soon.

Everyone claps, so infatuated with the way he speaks. It’s cause he lies; straight from his mouth.

“I know what you did.”

The trees speak to Coriolanus in hushed violent murmurs, almost as if they were mad at him. They spoke in riddles, but sometimes they’d just outright say what Coriolanus had done.

“You killed them. You killed them all.”

“Blood is on your hands.”

“Snow bleeds red.”

And it frustrates Snow. It’s something, for once, that he can’t control. It sickens him that he’s unable to anything about the trees.

- - -

Mr. and Mrs. Cicero die a year later. Rebel bombing, they assumed. But only Coriolanus knew that it wasn’t—that it was him, and because he was like a son to them for the past year, he was under their will, meaning he got the entire estate.

He ran for president with the Cicero family name, and with their money too.

Coriolanus marries Livia Cardew. He doesn’t like her, much less tolerate her, but she was a good asset. Just a trophy hanging from his arm.

And Livia didn’t mind, she knew Snow was incapable of loving her, and she had an itching feeling it had something to do with you.

But Livia loved you when she was friends with you at the Academy, so she doesn’t bat an eye when Coriolanus mumbles out your name while they’re having sex. In fact, Coriolanus refused to touch or look at Livia unless he was under enormous pressure and needed someone—no something—to get his anger out on. Livia always took the blows, but she was still grateful that she hadn’t married Fetus, because that—that wouldn’t have been pretty.

The first thing Snow does as president is cut down the trees. The forests and woods? Well he burned them all. He didn’t like the cat and mouse chase that Lucy Gray had played on him in the woods, so he figured getting rid of them was like finally erasing you from his brain. No more Sejanus Plinth, no more Lucy Gray Baird, and fucking finally, finally!—no more Y/N Cicero.

But Coriolanus made a slight error. Because 64 years later, his ex lover comes back to haunt him, only this time, in the form of a girl from District 12, Katniss Everdeen.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tbosbas #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x reader

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togrowoldinv · 6 months

Text

Time

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When you visit the Bartons with your family, you and Natasha spend some quality time reconnecting

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, fingering (R receiving), oral (N and R receiving), being needy, some fluff too

Note: Enjoy this hehe

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

“Are we there yet?” Your youngest daughter asks from the backseat of the car.

You’ve been driving for hours to reach the Barton farm. Natasha wants to visit while the kids are on spring break.

“The answer is still no, sweetheart,” Natasha answers patiently.

“We’ll tell you when we get there, Taylor,” Ali, your oldest, jumps in. She’s annoyed by the constant question and her tone doesn’t hide that.

“Be nice,” you remind her.

“Yeah be nice, Al,” your oldest son says. The two oldest kids start arguing, but Nat stops it quickly.

“Hey, none of that,” she says, expertly parenting. “This is a family trip. We will be kind to each other and we will have fun. Understood?”

A few nods follow.

“Understood?” Nat repeats.

That gets her the answers she was waiting for. A chorus of yes ma’am’s resound from the backseat. You turn up the radio and try to make the last hour of the trip enjoyable.

When you pull in the driveway, you look back at Taylor.

“Ask the question again, baby,” you say.

“Are we there yet?”

“We are here,” you reply. “Come on let’s go have some fun.”

You all unload from the car. Nat refused to be a minivan family, so you settled for a three row suv. The Bartons come outside to help.

“Hi Nat,” Laura greets your wife. She hugs her tight. There’s only a handful of people in the world that Natasha trusts as much as she does Laura and Clint.

“And hi y/n,” she greets you as well.

You’re corralling the babies at the moment and can’t hug her, but the warm smile on her face feels like a hug.

“Go see Auntie Laura,” you say to Belle and Taylor, the two littlest girls.

The girls run to her and hug her tight. Ali is catching up with Lila while Ivan, Jack, and Cooper reconnect.

“Well, I guess it’s just us to unload,” Nat comments. She walks around to meet you at the back of the car.

“What’s new?” You joke.

“Hey, while we have a second alone,” Nat begins. She presses you against the back of the car, running her hands over your shoulders and arms down to your hands. “Thank you for coming. And I love you.”

“I love you too, Natasha,” you say, feeling your face flush from how close she is. You can smell her perfume and her fresh hair.

She’s so close to you that it hurts. You want to devour her.

“I’ll show you later just how much I love you, okay?” Her voice is low, sexy as it could be.

Nat leans in and steals a quick but deep kiss, leaving you wanting more.

You pout when she pulls away, but she just laughs. You’re too easy.

Later that day, Clint drives everyone out to the field where he’s got a new pig pin. The kids love chasing the pigs around and playing with them.

Natasha shares a look with you about an hour into the fun that tells you she wants to get back to the house and have her own type of fun with you.

“Clint, we’re going to head back,” she tells him.

“But Mama we’re having fun!” Belle says.

“They can stay out here with us. I know you two are exhausted from the drive in,” Laura says. She winks at you. Maybe you weren’t so slick earlier behind the car.

“Thanks Laur,” Natasha says. “Be good, babies.”

You both kiss each kid before you start walking back to the house with Natasha. You’re hand in hand as you walk through the field. You love seeing Nat like this. So free. So happy.

Your smile must reveal that to her. She stops and turns to you.

“What is it?” Nat asks.

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me differently,” she replies.

“You’re so beautiful,” you say. “And you’re even more beautiful out here.”

Natasha kisses you softly. She is so in love.

“We better get back to the house before I take you right here in this field,” Nat says.

“What would be so wrong with that?” You say, surprised by your own boldness.

“Oh,” Nat remarks. “Did my wife, my sweet, sweet, innocent wife just say that she wants me to fuck her right here outside where anyone could see us?”

You know she can see the way she’s making you feel. An absolute puddle for her.

“Come on,” Nat says, grabbing your hand again and pulling towards the house again.

By the time you make it to the porch, you’re tripping over each other as you try to make out while walking.

“Upstairs now,” Nat says.

You move as fast you can into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Natasha pulls you to her and turns you to back you into the bed. You fall back a little harshly, but Natasha’s lips connecting with yours distracts you from the slight pain.

“Fuck,” you moan into her mouth.

Nat’s strong hands pull your shirt over your head. You barely have time to process it before you’re entirely naked underneath her.

“Are you going to be good for me?” Nat asks.

“Yes,” you say. She takes a nipple in her mouth while her fingers slip between your legs. “Fuck.”

“You’re so fucking hot,” Natasha says.

Her fingers enter you quickly. She swallows your moan with her kiss. You want her to be as undressed as you are. You reach for her shirt hem, but she pushes your hand away.

“Just you right now,” Natasha says. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you say.

Her fingers continue to pump in and out of you at a fast pace. You can feel yourself slipping into a blissful state.

“Natasha,” you mumble. It’s all you can say right now.

“I love you,” Natasha says. “Be a good girl and come for me.”

You let yourself come and come hard for your wife. It’s the best sex you’ve had in months, maybe years.

“That’s right, baby. You’re so good,” Nat says as she works you down. “So good for me.”

Natasha drops a kiss to your forehead and lies beside you. You come back to reality at the feeling of her hand circling yours.

“God, I have missed that,” you say.

Nat chuckles. She has too.

“Shower with me?” She asks.

“Gladly,” you agree.

Nat helps you out of bed and essentially carries you to the bathroom. You start the shower.

“May I?” You ask, gesturing to her clothes. You want to be the one to take them off.

“Please,” Nat says.

You lift her shirt over her head. It never ceases to amaze you how beautiful she is. You unclasp her bra and kiss her shoulder softly.

“Gorgeous,” you whisper, placing your head in the crook of her neck.

You move your hands down her abs and to her waist. Slipping your hands down the jeans she’s wearing, you find her dripping wet for you.

“Getting me off really turns you on, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” You ask her.

“Mhm,” she says. “But I’m in control here.”

Nat takes a step back and pulls her own pants down. She takes your hand and leads you into the shower.

“Why deny yourself, Nat? You know I’d kneel for you right here and now.” You ask her.

Natasha smirks. This was exactly her plan. To have you begging to make her feel good.

“Then kneel,” Natasha says after a long pause. She presses on your shoulders just enough to make you feel the pressure.

Grinning, you drop to your knees. You can’t even remember the last time you were in this position with her. God, you love farm Natasha.

“Right there, detka,” she says. “Yes.”

You hum in pleasure at the taste of her. You’re the luckiest person in the world to be here with her like this.

“Yes! Fuck, y/n, yes!” Natasha groans out. You can’t see her but you know she’s biting her lip. She’s close. It doesn’t take much longer for Natasha to be trembling at the feeling of your mouth all over her.

“I’m coming,” Nat says. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You help her ride her high and lick her until she’s pushing you away. You stand back up and she kisses you immediately.

Her tongue mingles with yours. The taste of her orgasm on your tongue turns her on even more.

“How long do we have?” She asks you.

“Not long I’d bet,” you say. “It’s almost dinner time.”

“I’ll make it quick,” Nat says.

She pushes you to the edge of the shower and you sit down, spreading your legs for her.

“All for me,” Natasha says. “Look at this.”

“All for you, Nat. Only you,” you reply.

She buries her face between your legs. You can’t help but lift your hips up at the feeling. Natasha holds your hips and helps you move them. Soon enough, you’re riding her face.

“Natasha,” you say over and over like it’s a prayer. “Natasha!”

You hold her head with one hand and keep yourself steady with the other. She eats you out like it’s the only place in the world she wants to be.

You come hard against her tongue. Nat moans successfully and pulls away to let you come down.

She grins at your blissed out face. She loves making you feel so good.

“I love you,” she says softly. It’s a sharp contrast to what you were just doing. “I hope you know how much I love you.”

“I do, baby,” you say, caressing her cheek. “I love you exactly the same.”

You kiss each other gently. Nat helps you stand back up and you actually shower. The water isn’t hot anymore, so you hurry up.

Once you get out, you get dressed and go downstairs. The family is just getting back from being outside. Perfect timing.

“Enjoy your alone time?” Laura asks.

“We sure did,” Natasha replies. She wraps an arm around your waist. You share a soft smile.

For the rest of the trip, you and Natasha soak up every moment with each other and with your family. It’s absolutely an amazing week.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff smut

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 10 months

Text

Practice On Me — Part Twelve — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader does what she has to for the information she wants. Talking to Azriel takes an interesting turn. Kaeda’s not doing her job, and she’s feeling a bit sorry for herself — to which Cassian isn’t very sympathetic.

Word Count: 9.6k. OOF. A long one, sorry!

Warnings: None.

You should really just go to sleep. Mind your own business.

But you find yourself waiting. Listening. For some indication that Tathaln has left.

You think it might be hours that pass. Roza has long since passed out in her bed. But there’s no chance of you sleeping, too. Not with all the thoughts that are crammed full in your head and speaking too loudly.

The most pressing of which: Why the fuck would the Lord of Fenlaros be visiting the High Lord in his private home in this private city?

No other camp lords venture here, you’re sure. Don’t even know it exists.

And yet, from that short glimpse you got of Finadar and Tathaln, there was an air of…familiarity, about them. Like it wasn’t the first time they were privately meeting.

Eventually, you grow sick of waiting, wondering. It’s no use. You’re restless and wired and churned up. You need to move, to stretch your legs, grab a drink or something.

The house is eerily still. You take your time traversing the corridors, carefully listening out to catch lowered voices and hushed tones. Even decide to take the longer route — the one that would take you past the High Lord’s study. But even as you pass by the thick wooden door, you hear nothing but the distant sounds of a hooting owl and the slicing wind amidst the mountains.

You’re almost at the kitchen when a figure abruptly rounds the corner on too-light feet. You stop short — and so does the High Lord.

You’re so stunned that you forget yourself. It takes a moment for you to remember to act accordingly. You bow your head in greeting. “My Lord.”

“Y/N.” Your name sounds funny, too familiar, on his tongue. When Rhysand had brought you here at fourteen, Finadar had merely referred to you as that girl. It seems that with age comes at least a little bit of acknowledgment. His eyes rake over you, and you’re suddenly aware of your nightgown, your unbound hair. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“A little, my Lord—”

“Just Fin, please.”

You pause. And then smile a bland smile. “A little…Fin.”

He holds up the object you hadn’t noticed clutched within his hand. A bottle. “I was just about to have a night cap. Perhaps you’d like to join me?”

On instinct, you want to decline. Having a private drink with Rhysand’s father seems…inappropriate, somehow.

But then that curious little voice in your head reminds you that this — this is the perfect opportunity to ask some questions, hopefully garner information. He’s relaxed. Open. In his own environment. What better time than now?

So that bland smile becomes a pretty one, and you dip your chin. “It would be my pleasure.”

With that charming smile of his own, the handsome male leads you to his study and holds the door open for you. Stepping inside feels like breaching somewhere firmly forbidden, and a place of such luxury that it would chew up your poor-to-do self and spit you out. All rich mahogany wood and more books than you’ve ever seen in your life. Trinkets and papers and maps and war strategy. The sight leaves you a little breathless, and for a moment, you forget you’re not alone.

But then the door shuts behind you, and the High Lord is striding past, over to his desk.

“You’ve been a friend of my son’s for a while, now, haven’t you?” He asks casually, rolling the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows.

You step closer, nodding. “I have, My Lo—Fin. Nine years, to be exact.”

“And you’re his age?”

“Yes. Twenty.”

A vague smile plays on his lips. “Old enough to drink, then, Please, do sit.”

You do exactly that, taking a seat in one of the plush, cushioned chairs and folding your hands in your lap. And for all you had planned to speak with Fin, now that you’re in front of him, you’re not quite sure what to say. You don’t know how to talk to someone of such high status.

He’s entirely at confident — even arrogant — ease, though. With a wave of a hand, a fire roars to life, breathing heat into the room and bathing it in an intimate glow. He pours two glasses of dark, smoky liquid and hands one to you before taking his own.

Instead of sitting at his desk as you half expect, he’s slumping into the armchair beside yours and tipping his head against its back.

He looks…tired, you note, as you subtly study him over the lip of your glass. Devastatingly beautiful — there’s no doubt about that. Chocolate eyes that remind you of Mor’s and short, reddish-brown hair. His generously muscled arms push through his shirt as he shifts.

And then he says, out of the blue, “I don’t sleep well, either.”

You’re not sure why he’s telling you that, of all things.

“I’m sorry.” It seems like an appropriate response. “I imagine, in being High Lord, you must have a lot on your plate.”

A wry smile graces his lips. “There’s always someone wanting something from you.” His eyes then drink you in again. “What is it you do in Windhaven? I take it you’re unwed. I don’t remember approving a marriage for you.”

“I am. Until recently, I lived with and worked for my father. But my circumstances have changed, and I don’t know what I’ll be doing next.”

“Was it your father who took your wings?”

Heat burns your cheeks. “It was.”

“Is that what you want from me? To punish him?”

You stare back at him, fighting to keep your expression neutral. “Who says I want anything from you?”

“Do you not?”

“…It was you who invited me for a drink, My Lord. I can leave if my company is bothersome to you—”

“It is not.” He lays a hand on your arm, skin far smoother than you expect from somebody so accustomed to weapons. “But there’s no reason we can’t both get something out of this.”

Your eyes fall down to that hand, and your body is so very still. Perhaps you’ve made a grave mistake in seeking him out.

But you dare ask, “What is it you want?”

A chuckle rasps out of him, and he retracts the touch. “Honesty. I get the sense that you’re of the curious sort. Why else would you have been so intently watching me greet my guest earlier this evening?”

So, he’d seen you. Silly, for you to assume that you could slip into the shadows around such a powerful being. You can almost feel that power prowling under his skin right now.

“I am interested,” you admit, “in what Tathaln Baralas was doing here.”

“You’re familiar with him.” He states — and then chuckles again. “Of course, you are. You were one of the ones who snuck off to Fenlaros for a party. I wasn’t best pleased when my son told me.” His head falls into a tilt. “But why would you be interested in Tathaln’s business here?”

“I may not be from Fenlaros, but I am Illyrian. And I imagine that a matter that warrants a meeting at the High Lord’s personal residence is one pressing enough to effect more than just a single camp.”

Full lips — Rhysand’s lips — tilt upwards. “Beautiful, curious and intelligent. Such a waste in a place like Illyria.”

“You’re too kind.”

“And you are too bashful.” A quiet intensity lies within his brown eyes. “I will reward your candour with this: Tathaln Baralas was here to suggest — request — a grand ball.”

For a split second, you falter. Try not to let it show on your face that you do.

The answer is…underwhelming. Perhaps you’re so idle in Velaris that you’re looking for drama where it doesn’t exist.

“A ball.” You repeat the word rather foolishly, like it’s your first time ever saying it. “I…I wasn’t aware that a Camp Lord would need your permission to arrange such a thing.”

“Confined to his own camp, he would not.” Fin tells you. “But the Lord of Fenlaros proposes something on a far larger scale. Something that has never before been done, and something that, I must admit, has piqued my interest.”

“Which is what?”

“Tathaln,” the High Lord stands, draining his glass and returning it to his desk, “has asked me to throw an Illyrian ball — not solely a Fenlarion ball. Meaning the best legions from all Illyrian war camps will be invited, along with their wives, mates, whatever. They will all gather in one place for this event, and interact as they never have before.”

You stare at him.

You do not mean for your indignation to shine through so freely.

He is your High Lord and not to be disrespected.

But you’re studying him, and wondering why the fuck he doesn’t look as alarmed by the suggestion as you feel.

“Why, by the Cauldron, would he want to do that?” The words fall from your mouth, formality forgotten. “There’s a reason it’s never been done before. Rival camps do not mix because Illyrians are hot-headed and driven by ego, and there would be fights and bloodshed and probably death. It’s a terrible idea. I don’t understand why Tathaln Baralas would suggest such a thing.”

A deep chortle husks out of the High Lord, and you could be wrong, but you think there might be a hint of surprise in the sound. Like he’s unused to such brazenness from his subjects — female ones, in particular.

You asked a damn good question, though.

Fin turns to you, and for a lingering moment, he simply stares. And then he says, softly, “Stand.”

You pause. Think that maybe, you’ve spoken too much, crossed a line. But you stand.

The High Lord beckons you closer.

You take one step forward. Another. Another. He lifts a hand and motions for you to stop. You do. You smooth your hands over your nightgown. Think you might be shaking a little.

You do not need a wealth of knowledge nor experience to recognise exactly how it is that he looks at you.

Deep, tawny eyes trail the length of you and seem to miss no detail. Your loose hair and pretty, open face. The sharp lines of your collarbones and the smooth skin of your decolletage. The flowing silk of your nightgown and the bareness of your legs and arms on show beneath it.

He stares at you in a way that makes you feel you’re wearing nothing at all.

And then he’s prowling closer with preternatural grace, and the heat and scent of his body seems to snuff out the heat and scent of the fire.

You can only stand, your legs wobbling a little, as he begins to circle you, peruse you, like a predator assessing its prey. You might hold your breath a little. You’re not sure what he plans to do, whether you’re to be reprimanded for your candidness. When he raises his hand, you hope you don’t flinch. You learned not to do so, not to show your fear, in the years living under your father’s thumb.

But his hand merely cups the curve of your shoulder and sweeps a few strands of your hair back.

“Give me what I want, Y/N.” He says, his voice gritty. “And I will tell you what Tathaln wants.”

This is all starting to feel like a huge oversight. A mistake. If this goes too far — if he suggests something that would disrespect Roza in any way…

You’d sooner be reprimanded, however badly.

Your eyes shutter, and you speak again, “What is it you want?”

Fin slinks round until he’s stood before you. The mild smile on his lips hides so much. “If I’m to oversee an event with all the camps under my rule,” he says, “I want to look good. I’m a victim of extreme vanity, you see. Appearances are everything. And thus, I would go before my subjects with the prettiest little piece at my side.” His eyes drink in your face, unpainted and unguarded. “You would do nicely.”

You’re not certain that your breath of relief is a silent one. The suggestion could be far worse, of course, but anxious butterflies are still all aflutter in your gut.

It would be prudent to remember who you’re talking to — who it is you’re playing games with. To remember that you are just a young female from Windhaven, with no experience outside of it. You are not a seasoned courtier, and you do not know the rules of the game — how to play them, nor how to break them.

You clear your throat, lowering your gaze. “Forgive me, My Lord. Whilst I’m undoubtedly flattered…I must admit to also being confused. Won’t Roza fulfil the role at your side?”

“Roza will attend no more public appearances for the remainder of her pregnancy — a decision we came to together. She is far too tired and must rest. And she’s fully aware that I will need to invite a special guest in her place.”

“But if you’re trying to make an impression before your Illyrian subjects…I am the last female who would bring you any glory. I am ordinary. I do not have wings—”

“You do yourself a disservice, Y/N.” His slow footsteps begin again. “The likes of your father have got into your head, I fear. What I see, looking at you now, is not these.” Warm fingers touch your ruined back, and you jerk a little. “What I see is the embodiment of classic Illyrian beauty. Just as I see in my Roza. You may not know this, but they tried to take her wings, too. Until I stopped them. It — we — would send a message, don’t you think? That your repulsive father may have taken your wings, but he did not take your spirit. Your beauty. And that spirit and beauty earned you a place at the High Lord’s side. Perhaps I’ll invite your father, and his punishment can be the night’s entertainment.”

It's…strange. Conflicting. Because the High Lord is saying things that you so often long to hear. The shattered, self-loathing part of your brain perks up and leans into the compliments like a pampered cat, waiting to hear more, to be stroked.

But then there’s an angry part of you — one that wishes to yell at him that if he truly abhorred the practice of wing clipping, he would ban it altogether instead of keeping himself in the favour of Illyrians and simultaneously bashing their views and traditions behind their backs.

So many feelings. And yet, you try to remember why you’re here.

Because something eats away at you that whatever Tathaln Baralas is up to will impact Azriel somehow. At least as long as he’s with Kaeda.

So you lift your chin and ask, “I agree to be your special guest to the ball, and you tell me what the Lord of Fenlaros is up to? It’s that easy?”

Fin chuckles. Stops in front of you again. “It’s that easy.” He inclines his head. “As I said, I am of the vain sort — and this is merely a thing of vanity. I’d rather enjoy parading one of my son’s pretty playthings on my arm. Letting those Illyrian males know that I could have any of their females if I wanted. And the fact that I don’t particularly care for Tathaln Baralas means that I don’t particularly care to hold on too tightly to his secrets, either.”

You don’t bother correcting him about the nature of yours and Rhys’s relationship. Seems irrelevant, in the grand scheme of things. And if your only role in this is to dress up and look pretty at the High Lord’s side, you reckon you’ve gotten off pretty damn lightly.

For a moment, there, you really thought he might want…more.

“Alright.” You stand up straight. “I will gladly be your guest to the ball.”

He smiles an odd smile, like he knew you would agree all along. With his arm brushing yours as he closely passes, he makes his way back over to his desk. Refills his glass and yours. Hands it to you.

“The reason the Lord of Fenlaros wants an Illyrian ball,” he says, “is because he seeks a situation in which he can have an eye on all camps — and vet their talent.”

“Vet their…” Your brow pinches. “What?”

“Tathaln, Y/N, has a vision in mind.” Fin turns to you, perching on the edge of the desk. “One that, I have to admit, did pique my interest — if it were to work. You see, he’s of the opinion that Illyria should, eventually, do away with the individual camps entirely. He’d sooner have one huge camp — that he would be Lord of, of course, and have a team of the strongest, most powerful Illyrians working alongside him to train the most fearsome army in the entirety of the Fae realm.”

“That’s preposterous. Cramming all Illyrians into one camp under one lord would mean the eye would be taken off the ball quicker than lightning. How could an army that big be adequately trained by a small team of leaders, no matter how powerful? Even the strongest soldiers couldn’t keep command of such numbers. That is why the individual camps work. Weaknesses get smoothed out and strengths are honed.”

The fire in your tone seems to amuse the High Lord. And you wonder if Illyria isn’t unlike a dolls house to him. Figures he can pluck up and move around and pit against each other for his own entertainment.

“Tathaln would disagree with you.” He smiles. “He believes that the individual camps only create room for complacency, a lack of order. He thinks that your kind spend more time drinking and fucking and fighting amongst themselves than they do training for combat. And he thinks that if something isn’t done about it, the next war could wipe Illyria off the map.”

“And he believes himself to be a strong enough Camp Lord to somehow fix that?”

“Alone? Gods, no. He’s an arrogant brute, but not a stupid one. No,” He says again. “See, this unit he would build wouldn’t be just made up of highly-skilled warriors.”

“Then what?”

“Illyrians with further powers. Special abilities.” Fin’s eyes track over your face, waiting for the realisation to dawn. “Like a shadowsinger, for example.”

And finally, it’s like light blotting out the clueless darkness of your head. Suddenly, it all falls into place.

You don’t know why you didn’t see it before.

“Tathaln wants Azriel under his command.” The words are ash on your tongue.

“Yes.” Fin nods. “He does. And there are other males in other camps, too, with their own, unique abilities. Tathaln wants this ball to see them up close. Pick them out. If things go his way, he would have those males defecting from their current camps and making a home in Fenlaros. There, they would train — and begin bringing Tathaln’s vision to life.”

Azriel leaving Windhaven…moving to another camp and not being around to talk to, to spend mindless hours with, to face life with — the thought is like a cold, cruel stab to your heart.

Your friends are what make Windhaven bearable. Together, you’ve built a little home there, a family. And you may all be at each other’s throats right now, but you love each other. Wouldn’t want to lose each other.

The idea of no longer seeing Az makes you want to puke up the two glasses of whiskey now swimming in your stomach.

And even more sickening is the further realisation—

Kaeda is Tathaln’s daughter — his puppet on a string.

It was never a coincidence that she randomly started floating around Windhaven. Wasn’t a natural thing at all, that she’d found interest in Azriel, of all people. The only shadowsinger.

The entire thing had been carefully orchestrated.

Kaeda’s interest in Az isn’t genuine. Her father specifically sent her to Windhaven to get him on side.

You think you might actually be sick. Suddenly, the High Lord’s study seems far too small.

“Why would you allow any of this?” You manage to grit out around your growing panic. “You’re the High Lord…if you tell Tathaln no, he can’t take it any further.”

Fin shrugs a nonchalant shoulder. “As I said — his vision piqued my interest. It’s not a bad idea, provided it would be executed properly. But if it were? Imagine the glory. The power. The Night Court would boast the most steeled army in Prythian. Battle would be mere child’s play to us.”

You…no. No. You can’t sit back and act like you don’t know any of this.

Azriel needs to be told. He needs to know what games Kaeda is playing — that she’s only interested in doing her father’s bidding, pouring honeyed words into Az’s ear to coax him out of Windhaven and into their ready, waiting trap. To use him. Exploit him.

You need to tell him. Even if he goes straight back to being angry with you after, still doesn’t want to speak to you…you need to.

With shaking hands, you place your glass down. “I…I’m quite tired. I think I’ll try, again, to sleep.” There’s no chance of that. “Thank you for the drink. And the conversation.”

Fin’s head falls into a tilt. He looks…intrigued. “Thank you for the company. And I’ve no doubt I can trust you to uphold your end of our arrangement.”

You nod. Hate the words as you speak them. “I will be your guest at the ball.”

“I’ll be in touch, then. Goodnight.”

You only just manage to return the sentiment as you slip out of the room, the cold hallways making a grab for your bare skin. Fin’s words haunt you all the way back to your room. Keep you awake all through the night. Bury themselves deep in your mind, your heart, and fill you with such an icy-cold fear, you feel you may never be warm again.

You have to tell Azriel — or you may lose him for good.

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The next morning, over tea and pastries and your rushed retelling of the night before, Roza stares at you.

Her expression is unreadable.

“You’re angry with me.” You breathe, the very words pinching at your heart. “I understand. But I needed to find out what Tathaln Baralas was up to. I just knew that—”

“Angry with you?” She cuts you off. “No, my love. With Fin? Yes. That he’s even entertaining this idea of that odious Camp Lord’s, and that his ego is so great that he would parade you on his arm like nothing more than prize cattle. That, I am angry with.” Her eyes sweep your face with concern — and a hint of something else. Something like…admiration. “You, however…you remind me exactly of myself when I was your age. Scheming, pushing back against what’s simply wrong…and in the name of love, too. I cannot possibly be angry with you for that.”

Your eyes fall to your plate. Love. That word rings in your ears like a war cry. “I need to do this. For Azriel. He’s being used, and—”

“I know.” Roza reaches over, closing a hand over yours. “Believe me, I know. And you have my full blessing and support. But you also have my concern. The games of Courts and High Lords and Camp Lords are dangerous ones. Do what you need to do for Azriel — for love — but have your wits about you. Do not, at any point, let them best you. And if Fin tries to take your agreement any further and lays a hand on you, come and tell me straight away, and I will fucking castrate him—”

Her words are cut short by a night-chilled shroud, darkness-given-form, despite the morning light that bathes the room.

Rhysand appears out of thin air. “Who will you castrate, mother dear?”

“You.” Roza says without a beat, scowling at her son. “What have I told you about just appearing like that? You’re showing off. It’s rude.”

“But I’m so good at it.” He strides closer, kissing her cheek and then yours. And steals the remainder of your pastry. “Ready to go?”

You’d sent a note a little over an hour ago, asking Rhys to come get you and fly you to Windhaven. You didn’t specify that you were going to talk to Az — and potentially break his heart with the information you’d garnered last night.

Rhys, of course, had written back that he’d be more than willing to oblige — as soon as Zakai was done sucking his cock.

Indeed, your friend looks particularly flushed and sated as he swallows your food and washes it down with a gulp of your tea.

“Rhysand.” Roza scolds. “Have some damn manners. Will you steal food from the babe, too?”

“Well, considering you’ll be breastfeeding her, mother dearest, absolutely not—”

“Her?” You blink between them. “You know it’s a girl?”

Roza smiles softly, sliding a hand over her stomach. “Not for certain. But the healer seems pretty sure. Her magic can detect these things, and she says she’s never gotten it wrong in all her years.”

“Gods, I hope so.” Rhys’s violet eyes glitter. “I’ve said from the start that I’m hoping for a sister.”

And you can see it already — Rhys throwing himself into the role of older brother. Protecting that little girl with his whole heart. She’d be the luckiest child in all of Prythian to have Rhys for a brother. And to have Cassian and Azriel protecting her, too…

That is, if Azriel doesn’t choose to go to Fenlaros.

Your stomach turns all over again at the thought. No — you need to speak with him, to warn him. He wouldn’t leave.

“Let’s go.” You stand abruptly, your breakfast feeling leaden in your stomach.

“Much obliged.” Rhys sketches a flourishing bow, to which Roza rolls her eyes. He kisses her cheek again. “Take it easy. I love you.”

Roza inclines her head. “I love you both.”

Its as you, too, dip down to kiss her cheek, that she lays a gentle hand on your arm. Concern swims in her eyes.

“Be careful, my little dove.” She pleads quietly. “Not just of the game you’re playing — but of your heart, too. Protect it.”

The words echo in your mind too loudly as Rhys takes your hand and steals you away.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Twenty years in Windhaven should have you at least a little accustomed to the brutal temperatures, but landing your feet on the packed snow makes you wonder if even a whisper of the spring season will kiss these parts. It seems to lurk on the horizon, just out of reach.

As Rhys dusts flecks of snow from his jacket, you glance down at your pathetic, worn boots. The very boots that seemed to start this entire godsdamned situation with Az. It was these that made him scoop you into his arms and carry you to the mead hall, where you shared that first, heated kiss on one of the tables—

“What are you staring at?” Rhys hovers at your side.

“Nothing.” You straighten yourself up. Hope your blush can pass for cold-bitten skin. “Do you know where Azriel is? I’d like to speak with him.”

“Sparring rings, I’d presume.”

You nod, and you go to head off in the other direction, but Rhys’s hand is enclosing around yours. He squeezes gently. “Send word when you want me to come get you.”

The sentiment promises more than just safe transport back to Velaris. It offers support, too — in the likely scenario that this conversation doesn’t go smoothly.

Because you have to consider the possibility that the truth about Kaeda, while needing to be exposed, may not be well received.

Azriel will likely be hurt by it. And you might bear the brunt of that.

Rhysand will be there for you, whatever happens. Even if he has no clue what’s going on.

So you squeeze back, and you offer an unconvincing smile as you let go. “I love you, Rhysand.”

He scowls. “Don’t like it when you call me Rhysand.”

“Sorry, Rhysand.”

“You’re a little shit. But I love you, too.”

You smile wider. That little bit of jesting is what gives you the courage, the strength, to square your shoulders and stroll away from him, snow seeping into your boots with each step.

By the time you get to the sparring rings, you think your feet might be frozen solid. But lo and behold, Azriel is there, currently going head-to-head with another male in his unit.

The very sight is the picture of a hard-trained warrior — a dance, a performance, of flying fists and measured breaths. Az is big and muscled, but he’s lithe and swift, and he moves through each step and dodges each blow and delivers his own as though it’s easy as air. He’s flawless, and for a heartbeat, all you can do is watch, every thought eddying from your mind.

But then he’s dodging a flying fist and pivoting on his feet. His eyes catch you. He’s distracted long enough for his partner to grab the upper hand and knock Az off his feet.

The shadowsinger accepts defeat. He sprawls on his back, panting heavily, and you continue to watch as his opponent grins and offers a hand to help him up.

“Distracted by a female?” He jokes. “I thought you were better than that, shadowsinger.”

A tight smile forms and falls from Az’s lips. He hates losing. “It would seem not. Well fought.”

“I’ll leave you and your lady to it.” The other male says, and you choose to ignore the suggestion in his voice. Azriel ignores it, too. Doesn’t even acknowledge him as he strolls away, no doubt to boast to his insufferable friends that he managed to get one over on the shadowsinger.

Az looks at you in that quiet, assessing way of his. Surveys you head to toe, like he needs to reassure himself that your short stay in Velaris has brought you no harm thus far. It’s good that he still cares, you think. You hope.

“You’re back?” He asks, grabbing a towel to wipe at his face. It’s then that you notice that his lip is bleeding a little.

“Not entirely.” You shake your head. “I…need to talk to you about something. Something important.”

And whether he’s ready to talk to you yet, or not, is irrelevant — he seems to realise that as he studies you once more and nods. “We’ll go to the dorms. Nobody’s there.”

You hate this, you want to tell him. The awkwardness. The…the stagnancy of your relationship. It was never supposed to be like this between you and him. It hurts.

And it makes you realise that love isn’t always beautiful.

But you school your expression as he finally closes the gap between you. He glances down, and a soft sigh escapes him. “Those fucking boots.”

Before you can say something, anything, find some way to defend your continued wearing of those fucking boots, Azriel is grabbing your hand. The unexpected touch jolts you — as does the zip through thin air that has you landing in the kitchenette of the dorms only seconds later.

Despite possessing the ability to winnow, Azriel avoids it at all costs, if he can. Something about the practice unsettles him, and he doesn’t believe he’s ever refined it enough to use it reliably.

So, the fact that he just winnowed you to the dorms either means that he still cares enough to get you out of the cold, or he wants to get this conversation over with as quickly as possible.

Gods, you hope it’s the former.

“Stay there.” He murmurs, and he’s turning on his feet. You want to stop him and tell him it’s imperative that you speak immediately — but you can only watch as he strides in the direction of his room.

Moments later, he’s strolling back through — a pair of his own, thick socks in his hands.

You might just soften and crumble enough to forget about the conversation and throw your arms around him. Even now, he’s still looking out for you, making sure you’re taken care of.

You plead with yourself not to get choked up over a pair of socks. But you just…miss him. Miss this. And you think that shows as you hold a hand out and rasp, “Thank you.”

“Let me.” Is all Az replies. He drops to his knees before you.

Your mind goes quiet.

Gods.

The last thing you expected, from coming here, was to see Az knelt at your feet.

And it’s so fucking inappropriate, but as he begins to unlace your boots, your stupid, pathetic brain begins to lament on what a damn shame it is, that you didn’t get to behold this sight, have him on his knees, when things were still good between you. Maybe there’s something wrong with you.

“You don’t have to do that—”

“Need to make sure you’re warm.” He chucks your sodden boots aside, yanks your socks off. Dries your poor, pinkened feet. Tugs his own socks — so big on you that he has to bunch them at the ankles — onto them. And then rises to his feet. “I’ll get a fire going.”

His fussing over you has always bordered on outright hysterical.

“Azriel.” Finally, you lay a firm hand on his arm. Stop him. “I need to talk to you.”

The way he goes so very still at your touch has you realising — all this fussing is to avoid simply…looking at you. Facing you. He’s trying to busy himself in your presence.

But he does look at you. Lifts his gaze to yours. And there’s grit in his voice as says, “I know I fucked up, Y/N. I shouldn’t have reacted to you and Cassian the way I did. I had no right.”

“I’m not here about that—”

“I was angry because I was so damn jealous. And that’s irrational, and I know it, but I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t stand the thought of him…anyone else…putting their hands—”

“It’s Kaeda, Az. She’s using you.”

Finally, you’ve won his silence. His arm tenses under your hand. His eyes burn into yours.

“I learned it from the High Lord himself.” The words are so, so sour on your tongue. You hate this. Hate the truth — for Az. “Tathaln Baralas is trying to round up the most powerful Illyrians of each camp and have them under his command in Fenlaros. Eventually, he wants there to be only one camp — that he rules over. He covets you because you’re a shadowsinger, and he sent Kaeda here to cosy up to you and do his bidding, win you over. She’s been working for him—”

He tugs away from your touch. Takes a step back. And the anger, the hurt, that you expect to find on his face just…isn’t there.

“I know all of this.” He says, simply.

“You—what?”

“I had dinner with Kaeda and her family. Tathaln laid his idea out to me and asked me to go to Fenlaros. He was completely open about it.”

You study him, waiting for some vague indication that he’s angry at Kaeda’s manipulation. But he seems entirely nonchalant.

It stings.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You hate how small your voice sounds.

“Well, you and I haven’t exactly been talking—”

“I’d think a situation like thiswould override that.”

“Kind of had other things on my mind, though, haven’t I?”

“Well did you tell Tathaln he can shove his fucking vision up his ass?”

Silence.

Silence, and then the rustle of Az’s wings as he shifts on his feet.

Loud, loud silence.

You think your heart might plummet into your stomach. Your mouth goes dry. You stare at him, every inch of him, desperate for some sort of sign that his silence isn’t saying what you fear it’s saying.

But gods, it’s so very telling.

“Please tell me you’re not considering it,” you breathe.

He doesn’t answer straight away. He looks at his feet and shifts on the spot and takes his time answering like your heart isn’t thundering in anticipation.

And then he says, quietly, “I told Kaeda I would consider it.”

The words steal the air from your lungs. The picture of a Windhaven without Azriel’s presence suddenly doesn’t seem like a blurred, unlikely one. Feels like it’s being dangled in front of your face.

“What?” Your voice is weak.

“I just…told her I’d think about it.”

“Why?”

“The idea isn’t a bad one—I could hone my skills, put them to use—”

“You could also kiss goodbye to any ties you have to this place! To your family, to—to me!”

Cauldron fucking damn your voice for cracking the way it does. You’re going to break in front of him, and it’s going to be bad. You can feel your chest tightening, the idea of losing Azriel for good making you breathless and panicked and like you don’t know what to do with yourself, your hands, your entire body.

“Y/N.” Az says softly. “I haven’t given a definitive answer.”

“But you’re thinking about it.” You choke. “You’re considering it—leaving. Do the others know about this? Rhys and Cassian?”

“No. Haven’t really been speaking to them, either.”

“Is that all part of it? Distancing yourself from us until you sever your ties completely? Are you truly so angry with me that you’d choose this? To not see me anymore?”

You know immediately what you’ve said.

To not see me. Rhys and Cassian not included.

Azriel catches it, too. He purses his lips, and he stares at you.

“This isn’t about that.” He insists.

“You never would have considered this before I lay with Cassian—”

“This isn’t about distancing myself because you fucked Cassian! It’s because I want you and that terrifies me!”

The words, hard and solid as iron daggers, are actually enough to calm your growing panic. You feel them land, piercing through your skin and spreading a wanton, longing venom through your veins. You’ve spent days — weeks — caught up in your thoughts, trying to accept the fact that you want Azriel. You want Azriel. More than you ever had before.

And perhaps it says a lot about how you perceive yourself, but it hadn’t occurred to you that he might want you back.

Hearing it is heart-stopping.

You clear away what feels like a patchwork of hoarfrost that’s frozen over your throat. “I—thought you wanted Kaeda.”

Azriel makes a noise; something like a humourless laugh. “Believe me, I tried. But I don’t. I want you, so much that it burns. Burns me worse than what scarred my fucking hands. I’ve never felt like this before. I’m sick with it. I can’t sleep for thinking about you, wanting you beside me. I can’t stop myself aching for you and I’m losing my fucking mind.”

Blow after blow after blow, these words. Sour and sweet, pleasant and horrific, love and hate. You feel like you know everything and nothing at once. Like you understand what he’s saying but not quite.

But your honest response croaks out of you, “And if I want you, too? What then?”

Azriel’s jaw ticks. And he presses himself hard against the wall as if he’s trying to disappear through it. “Then,” he says, “that makes it even worse.”

“Because you’d sooner run off to another camp than give yourself to a pathetic excuse for an Illyrian like me, right?”

“Because I would sooner damn myself to a miserable existence in Fenlaros than allow this to turn into another thing of beauty that could be ripped straight from my hands. I’d sooner not see you at all than have you and lose you. And I’d rather base my decision on hypotheticals and protect my heart than give it away and wish I never had. If that makes me selfish—”

“It makes you,” you grit your teeth hard, blink furiously through forming tears, “a fucking coward.”

He pauses. “Then I’m a coward.”

But he isn’t. Never has been. Not when he was locked up in his hateful father’s keep and forced to bear his half-brothers’ twisted cruelty. Not when he came to Windhaven and was targeted here, too, simply for being different. Not through anything you’ve faced together in nine years of friendship.

Azriel has never been a coward. You will not accept it. You will not let him become one.

If he wants you like he says he does…you’re not going to let him have the sole choice of ruining this. He can try to push you away, but you’ll push back ten times harder.

“You think I’m not scared?” You move away from the counter, taking slow steps closer to him. “I am. I’m petrified. But fear is not cowardice. To fear and to face it head-on is to be brave, Azriel. When have you ever balked from fear?”

He’s watching you near him with what seems to be nerves. He swallows. “Never. But I know which of my battles to pick.”

You slow to a stop in front of him. Your body is inches from his, and his warmth and scent are like a punch to your gut. “It isn’t a battle to want.”

“No,” he agrees. “But it’s a battle to need.” So blatantly — he doesn’t try to hide it — his eyes drift to your mouth. “I was wrong before. I don’t want you. I need you.”

“And you’d rather run from that. You’d rather run than need me.”

“…Yes. I think I would.”

Finally, you close the miniscule gap between your bodies, slamming your hands either side of him, against the wall. You fight the curling of your lips when you hear his breath catch in his throat.

“What are you waiting for, Azriel?” You challenge. “Run.”

He pauses.

He does not run.

He snarls, and he grabs you by your jacket, and he hauls your mouth to his.

He tastes like the tang of sweat and blood, but also like the heavy fir trees that guard the mountains, and the crackling of a roaring fire, and the fresh berries he puts in his breakfast every morning without fail. He tastes like Azriel, and you think that taste might be the answer to every dark thought and doubt that has ever plagued your mind.

Without hesitation, you're bunching your hands in his shirt and pulling yourself against him, close as you can possibly get. This kiss is not a sweet kiss in the name of tentative practice. This kiss is a reckoning, and a choice, and it’s the past nine years in flashing moments that have led you up to this point.

Azriel makes a low, wanting sound and flips the script, using his grip on your jacket to spin you both until you’re the one pushed against the wall, and he’s pressing you there. Slotting a firm, muscled thigh between your legs. He pulls his mouth away from yours to pepper quick, biting kisses along your jaw, down the column of your neck. You gasp, and he gasps back.

“I want you.” His voice almost sounds like a plea — a plea for some solution to this. As though it’s a problem. “I can’t stop myself wanting you.”

“So don’t.” You breathe back, pushing the very centre of you against his thigh. “Stay in Windhaven and forget about everything else. Stay with me. Have me.”

“You make it sound so easy—”

“It is.” You pull his mouth back to yours. “It’s easy. We can be easy. We can be—”

Just down the hall, the opening of the front door cuts your words right off. Footsteps follow. It’ll just be a male returning from training, but it seems to send a tidal wave of ice-cold reality straight over the two of you. Azriel stares down at you, lips parted, still panting.

The nameless male passes by without even sparing either of you a glance. Azriel pulls away.

He turns his back to you and rakes a hand through his hair. You can only watch. So fast, he’s facing you again.

“I—I need you to give me time to register all of this.” He swallows. “I can’t…think right now.”

Do the words sting? Yes. Were you hoping that he would just impulsively let go of his fears and say fuck it? Absolutely.

You should be angry. You should tell him that if he truly wants you, needs you, then he shouldn’t need to think.

But something about the lost expression on his face speaks to you. He’s always been guarded. Always struggled to face his emotions head-on. So many years he spent locked up, trying to convince himself that the loneliness didn’t ache, that his heart didn’t wish.

If you push him right now…it’ll end up with him further away from you.

So it’s the hardest thing in the world to straighten yourself out and pretend your lips aren’t tingling, begging for another taste of his mouth. It’s an effort to put how you feel aside for his sake.

But maybe it’ll be for your sake, too. You are angry…somewhere beneath all the longing, the passion. He didn’t tell you about Tathaln’s proposition. He’d been considering it without consulting any of you. That hurts.

He watches you, waits for you to say something, as you reach for your boots and tug them back on. You came here to tell him what you’d found out, and you’ve done just that — and then some.

When you’ve laced up your shoes, only then do you look at him. Try to hide the bleakness from your face.

“I’ll leave you to your thoughts.” You tell him, and it’s a promise. “But can you do me a favour?”

His eyes sweep over your face, and he nods. “Always.”

“Before you make a decision about Fenlaros…” You actually have to stop yourself and swallow down the lump that forms at the words. You try again, “Before you make a decision about Fenlaros, please just…talk to Rhys and Cass first. The three of you have been a strong unit forever. Forget the troubles that we’ve had and just…just remind yourself of what you’d be leaving behind. Fix things with them. Talk to them.”

He opens his mouth. Snaps it shut again. Nods. “Alright.”

“You don’t need me, Az.” You say as you turn away from him. “But them? You’ll always need them.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The strutting confidence with which Kaeda Baralas usually carries herself is entirely absent as she enters her father’s study.

Her wings are limp — a telltale sign of nerves, intimidation — and it’s an effort to keep them from drooping.

Wings are supposed to be worn proudly. Hers were left intact for a reason. Never will she forget that fact.

Tathaln sits behind his desk, oozing authority, even through menial tasks like going through his correspondence. As Kaeda stops before him and threads her fingers together, she feels much like the younger version of herself — that little girl always trying to think of ways to impress her papa.

“Well?” Tathaln asks without looking up.

The female clears her throat. “He still hasn’t given me an answer.”

Her father pauses, goes deathly still. Kaeda hates that stillness. Dreads it. Knows it means she’s disappointed him.

The Camp Lord places his pen down, and he asks, his tone slicing, “And why have your efforts not been enough to glean an answer?”

Kaeda purses her lips. “I’m trying, father. It’s — he’s harder than I anticipated. I didn’t expect him to be so attached to Windhaven.”

She watches, stomach turning, as the great male before her stands and rounds the desk. He perches on the other side of it and studies his daughter.

“Your brothers seem to be having no problems with the missions I gave them.” He tells her. “Why do you let me down?”

How is she supposed to answer that? Azriel is simply…not what she expected. He’s unlike all the Illyrian males she’s surrounded by. He’s profound, sentimental, caring. He values more than just violence, than war.

“I got the go-ahead from the High Lord that the ball can take place.” Tathaln announces. “We will be amongst a room full of males with potential, who may join our cause. But they won’t if we don’t have some ground to work on. If I don’t have something to show them — warriors who can advocate for us. Like the shadowsinger.”

Kaeda’s gaze lowers. “I’ll keep trying. I’ll ask again.”

“Yes. You will.” He pushes away from the desk. “Because let me remind you of something, lest you’ve forgotten.” A step closer has him towering over her, and he’s…humongous. “I do not give you the freedoms you have, just so you can waste them. I did not leave your wings intact because I abhor the practice of clipping them. I told you to earn them. To hone yourself into a weapon that I can use.”

“I know, father.”

“And what do I do with weapons that are useless? That can’t be used? I rid myself of them. Make no mistake that I would do the same with you if you can’t give me what I need.” A sneer contorts his brutal, beautiful face. “I don’t care what you have to do to attain it. Trick him, force him, bed him. Just get your ass back to Windhaven, and don’t return until the shadowsinger is on side. The ball will be held on Starfall — you have until then.”

“I—”

“Go.”

End of discussion.

He doesn’t want to hear her excuses, her ideas.

He doesn’t want to know that his daughter, deep down, is not capable of the callousness of which he very much is. That in Azriel, she sees a person who is, perhaps, as lonely as she is, and insecure, and trying not to be, in an environment where those things get you killed.

He doesn’t care to know that all she really wants is for her father to throw his arms around her and tell her he loves her, is proud of her, no matter what.

No. He returns to his seat and doesn’t spare her another glance. She’s dismissed.

She takes to the brutal skies and makes her way from one hollow place to another.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Cassian decides two chapters into the book that reading isn’t for him.

He’s just so fucking bored. Rhys is somewhere being all moony eyed over Zakai, Roza and Y/N are still in Velaris, and Azriel still doesn’t seem interested in talking through their issues.

So he’s resorted to this — plucking some weird romance novel off the shelf and giving it a go. Some dramatic tale of a human girl who falls in love with a beast who drinks blood and glistens in the sunlight. Two chapters down, he’s tempted to throw it into the fire — but he remembers that it isn’t his book and returns it to the shelf instead.

He could go to a tavern, but those aren’t fun on his own. Could seek out one of his many sexual conquests for a good time, but something about arguing with his closest of friends translates, for some reason, into his dick refusing to get hard. He’s too churned up for an orgasm, and too churned up to give one out.

So, sleep it is. He heaves a deep sigh and drags himself over to the stairs, feeling mighty sorry for himself. He’s barely placed a foot on the bottom step when a knock falls on the door.

He turns, striding over too fast. He hopes for Rhys, or even Az, anyone—

But Kaeda slumps against the door frame, and he immediately wants to scowl.

Her eyes are glazed, her usually pristine appearance a little unkempt, with strands of cherry red hair slipping free from a ponytail and a stain of some sort of liquid on her shirt.

She hiccups, and the smell of booze rolls from her. “Azriel here?”

“No.” Cassian’s jaw ticks.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” Probably at the dorms, but he doesn’t tell her that. “Don’t you have a rock to crawl back under?”

She makes a vague noise and bends at the waist, planting her hands on her knees. “Think ‘m going to be sick.”

“Not here, you’re not.”

“Can I just come in? Please? Need…need water.”

Cassian really, really doesn’t want to let her in.

If he had his way, he wouldn’t let her into the camp, let alone his house.

And he’s a shitty enough person that he’s tempted to turn her away…but not shitty enough to actually do so. She’s clearly wasted, and in a place like Windhaven, a lone, drunk female is a target.

So he grits his teeth and steps aside, and Kaeda doesn’t hesitate to stumble in. She heads straight for the couch, slumping down—

“If you puke on that,” Cass tells her, striding over to the kitchen, “I’ll hold you upside down and mop your vomit up with that obscenely red hair.”

Kaeda seems to find it funny. She snorts. Cassian ignores her and fills a glass with water.

He stalks back over. More or less slams the glass down on the coffee table and then sits at the far end of the same couch. “Your water. Drink it.”

The female grabs the glass and gulps it down, droplets rolling down her chin. Cassian has never seen her so…normal.

“Why are you drunk?” He asks.

She returns the empty glass to the table. “I drank alcohol.”

“Give me a straight answer.”

She sighs, and swivels on the seat so that she’s facing him. She’s a little unsteady as she tucks her legs beneath her and says, “Because I’m a desperately unhappy person, and I can’t do anything right.”

Cass stares at her. He isn’t convinced. She seems mighty happy every time she struts through Windhaven, giving pretty, sultry smiles to different males and revelling in their attention.

“I have so much pressure on my shoulders.” Kaeda says. “I can’t afford to get it all wrong.”

“Everyone has pressure on their shoulders. Welcome to the real world, princess.”

Another snort. She shakes her head. Never seems bothered by Cassian’s sharp-edged words. “You don’t get it.”

But Cass reckons he does. He narrows his eyes as he looks at her — thinks that her perfect outfit probably costs more than his entire wardrobe. Thinks that the fact that she’s got to her age, as a female, and hasn’t had her wings and spirit ripped away from her, is a very lucky thing.

“Oh, I get it.” He bites back. “I know exactly what I’m looking at. A spoilt girl who gets everything she wishes for and still wants more. You have riches and a good standing, and you never have to worry about where your next meal is coming from.”

“…Don’t have any friends, though, do I? Not like you and yours.”

“Perhaps that’s because you’re such an insufferable toad.”

Kaeda stares at him, and he stares back. Gods, he really cannot stand her. Even the way she looks at him makes him want to punch something.

But then she throws her head back, and she bellows a great, loud laugh.

That annoys him, too — that nothing he says, however harsh, seems to bother her. Maybe he simply wishes that he could be like that. So strong.

“Why is it that you hate me so much, Cassian?” Her laughter ebbs into a quiet chuckle, and she’s leaning forward to crack him a smile that has sent better males to their knees. “Tell me.”

Cassian, too, leans forward — tries to scowl that smile out of existence. “Because I think you’re up to something.” He answers. “And I think you’re going to hurt my friends. And if you hurt my friends, princess, I hurt you. It’s that simple.”

He means it. Kaeda can see he means it. And the threat should intimidate her, but it doesn’t.

It makes her hungry. Ravenous.

His hate for her is a challenge that she wants to chase. Every barbed word, every scathing glance —

It sets her on fire.

And she’s happily not thinking about Tathaln, or Fenlaros, or Azriel, as she grips Cassian by the cheeks and slants her mouth over his. She kisses him with such heat that for a moment, he forgets who she is. Her tongue makes its way past his lips—

He shoves her off him, probably too hard. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Before she can answer, the front door opens, and Azriel is wandering in.

He takes in the sight of them and stops. Stares between them.

His expression is…indifferent. Like he knows what he’s looking at, but he really could not give a fuck.

And then he clears his throat, and turns to Kaeda. “You should leave.” He says. “Cassian and I need to talk.”

az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @katherinearcheron @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @azriels-mate2

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cloudwhisper23 · 3 months

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I'm too lazy to format, so if you want proper formatting on this, I've posted it on Ao3! This is a continuation from the last art trade I did with @pixlokita about their Werebunny Jeremy AU (we've decided to call it Cut Right Through Me)

Below the cut is the link to the story on Ao3, and the full part that I just completed! Fair warning, this is a pretty decent length, roughly 9k words. Enjoy!

“You’re mean, you know that?” Jeremy said irritably as he dropped into the passenger seat.

“I don’t care. He’s dangerous, Jeremy.”

“Dangerous, yet you apparently have been calling him,” Jeremy muttered, slouching in the chair.

“To find you! Speaking of, where were you this week?”

“Around.”

“Not home.” Ramona shot him a glare as she backed out of the driveway. “Which by the way, I went to your house. It’s an absolute mess. And you know how to get bloodstains out of things-“

“I was going to get to it.” Don’t mention Percy, please don’t remind me. Jeremy wished he was back in Michael’s house, still being interrogated for being there. It was much better than the absolute grilling he was getting from his sister.

“You’re lucky I helped clean up,” Ramona sniffed. “And you owe me for Percy’s vet bills, by the way. I know you’re a disaster on a regular basis, but whatever crisis you had will not get you out of your responsibilities mister.”

“Vet bills?” Jeremy echoed, flinching slightly when she mentioned Percy.

“Yeah, I had to take Percy to the vet. Some animal must’ve broken into your house after you ran off or something because he was hiding in your room scared out of his wits and covered in dried blood. He’ll be fine, but honestly. What could’ve been so important that you ran off and left Percy to fend for himself?”

“I didn’t know Percy survived,” Jeremy answered quietly.

“Well, you should’ve checked,” Ramona replied grimly. “He’s only still alive because I went to find you.”

“Yeah…” Jeremy pulled his shirt up over his head to bury the way his eyes were swimming. Everything was just too much for him right now. “Can you just- Can we go back to your house? I don’t think I can go home right now.”

“That’s where we’re headed,” Ramona answered gently. “I’m sorry to yell at you, Jer. I really am. I was just worried.”

“I know…” Jeremy rubbed his face into the soft fabric of the shirt. He wished he could’ve had a chance to apologize or make some kind of effort to befriend Michael before they’d abruptly left. “If it helps, I hardly remember anything from the last few days.”

“I noticed.” Ramona’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Hey, maybe we could go visit Becky for a bit. I know it’s been a while since I’ve seen her. I’m guessing you haven’t seen her lately either.”

“I can’t,” Jeremy said softly. He didn’t know when he’d transform again, and he couldn’t bear to have it happen around his family, not when he knew that Becky would dig straight for the cause of it, probably making him have to go through it longer than he wanted anyway. He wanted to have something for his friend to work with when he shared the problem.

Or maybe he wanted to handle something himself for once.

“Jer, are you sure? Not to push you or anything, but I’m probably going to head there at the end of the week. I was already planning the trip before you vanished, and now that you’re back-“

“I wouldn’t want to stop you from going,” Jeremy interrupted firmly. “I need to finish up some loose ends around here before I’d go. But if you could take Percy with you, I’d appreciate it.”

Maybe it would be best to just disappear. To be hunted and killed like the monster he was while Ramona was out of town. While she was safe.

“If you’re sure,” Ramona said, sounding hesitant still. “I’ll take Percy with me. I’m sure Becky misses him as much as he probably misses her.”

“Well, he is the son of her old dog. I’d be surprised if she didn’t miss him,” Jeremy answered, finally peeking out of his shirt.

“You’re such a big baby sometimes, Jeremy,” Ramona said softly, shaking his shoulder. “We’ll get you sorted out. Maybe find you a man to help you relieve your stress. You certainly need that-“

“Stop, stop. We’re not having this conversation-“

“If you just tried to have a relationship-“

“I thought you were all about not having a man to rely on for everything,” Jeremy countered.

“Well, I have different biases.”

“You only agreed because Becky said it first,” Jeremy accused, elbowing his sister.

“Hey, no assaulting the driver. Besides, I never said you have to rely on him for everything. Just… some things.”

“I’m less shallow than you,” Jeremy replied, huffing as he returned his gaze to the window.

“Oh, I doubt that. I saw the way you were eying up Michael. You wanted him,” Ramona teased.

“Oh, come on, I’m allowed to think a guy is hot, Mona! And he’s-“

“Just your type. Except I don’t think his personality is right for you. He’s too bitter, too grouchy. Not good enough for my little ball of sunshine.”

“I have four inches on you,” Jeremy argued.

“Not where it counts,” Ramona hummed in reply. “But seriously. I’m going to emphasize this, so pay attention. Don’t you dare go pining after Michael Afton.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “I think you already burned that bridge too badly to rebuild.”

“Good. But if there’s still a silver of doubt in your mind, I’m going to update you on everything once we get home. That man has a bloody history.”

“So you’re calling him some kind of monster?” Jeremy scoffed. “Come on, he called you right away when he found me, didn’t he?”

“How do we know it was right away? Maybe he drugs people for kicks and-“

“Just because I don’t remember the last few days does not mean I don’t remember last night. And nothing happened! We didn’t have sex, I promise you.”

“Mhm,” Ramona sounded unconvinced. “If you say so.”

“I’m never going to get you to believe me on any of this stuff, am I?” Jeremy groaned hiding his face as it burned. He shouldn’t be thinking of Michael in that context, especially now. “You’re so mean to me.”

“I love you too, Jeremy.”

Jeremy went to take a nap when he got to his sister’s apartment, crashing immediately on the couch. He needed to fix his sleep for work later that night anyway.

Ramona dragged him away from his nap to give him a bunch of information about the background of Fazbear Entertainment, and the whole reason she was suspicious of Michael. Clearly, she wasn’t done with their earlier conversation. She really doesn’t believe that I’ll leave it alone, Jeremy thought to himself as she dropped a bunch of newspaper clippings into his lap.

“He killed his little brother, Jeremy.”

“Allegedly.” Jeremy’s eyebrows furrowed as he skimmed the newspaper.

“And his father killed a bunch of kids back in 1985. At the same location you’ve been working at.”

“They never proved that,” Jeremy argued. He shoved the paper away, avoiding looking at the image of Evan Afton. The kid gave him an uneasy feeling.

“You can’t deny the evidence. Just because they weren’t convicted of murder doesn’t mean they didn’t kill anyone.”

That’s exactly what that’s supposed to mean, actually. Jeremy’s mouth thinned. He gave the newspapers back to his sister. “Okay, fine. Whatever.”

“Jeremy-“

“Can I please just take a nap in peace?” Jeremy begged. “I don’t need this extra stuff.”

Jeremy was glad to be able to get away again later that day. He knew his sleep was skewed, and he’d probably be exhausted for work, but he didn’t care. That was one thing he could rely on to be consistent. They’d be fine so long as he clocked in on time and clocked out. And if the animatronics caught him off guard, so be it.

He’d missed enough shifts already, and even without his uniform, he’d be fine going into work. Who was going to see him anyway?

He clocked in early, fiddling with his flashlight as he started his patrol. It was considered dumb to do things like this, he knew, but he hadn’t had any issues with walking around during his shift yet. And even if he did, he doubted the animatronics could do much to him anyway, now that he remembered the incident with Toy Bonnie.

The only real question was whether or not that golden bear would come back to kick him out again, but since Jeremy had never seen the bear before that time, he guessed it was a very rare occurrence thing that only happened if an animatronic was hurt or damaged. Then why wouldn’t it be protecting Mangle?

Shaking the weird thought out of his head, Jeremy stepped into Parts and Service, hoping he’d see the glint of his keys somewhere on the floor. Fritz usually forgot to lock up, and Jeremy had taken up the habit of locking up behind him. Since he’d lost his keys the last time he’d been in for a shift, he figured they’d be around somewhere.

He found himself out of luck. Sighing, Jeremy checked that all the old animatronics were still on the floor. Bonnie was still around, and with a twinge of guilt, Jeremy spotted Toy Bonnie’s mangled remains tucked between Bonnie’s torso and his arm. Best not to think too hard about that, Jeremy told himself, turning the beam to the rest of the room.

The faintest rustling noise had Jeremy immediately back on his guard. He turned to see a locker door falling open, revealing a golden suit. His grip on his flashlight tightened as he stared at the golden rabbit costume. It didn’t seem to move much more.

Maybe it was something they used during the day shifts? They were short a Bonnie after all. Still, a golden variation seemed odd as it was on the complete opposite end of the color spectrum from the other two Bonnie models Jeremy had seen.

He was almost tempted to look closer it at, but he knew better than to mess with the animatronics. Especially after his run-in with Toy Bonnie. He did not want to stir up the crazy bear thing again, no thank you.

Shaking his head, Jeremy turned back toward the door. Then he hesitated. The red light on the security camera was blinking at him. Who was in the security office?

Deciding to forget the rest of his early patrol for now, Jeremy made his way back to the office to see a very grumpy Michael shining a flashlight down the hall at him, a small boy also looking at him from a perch on top of the desk.

“Uh… hi?” That’s not Scott, Jeremy’s mind supplied. The realization hit him a moment later as he recognized the boy from Ramona’s newspaper clippings. Evan Afton.

His eyes seemed almost hypnotizing as he glared at Jeremy. “Huh. So you did survive then. Fancy that.”

“I… thanks?” Jeremy finished making his way into the office, weary of the kid on the desk. “Do I know you?”

Evan snorted. “Don’t be stupid. No.”

“Oh. Okay?”

Michael made an impatient noise. “Jeremy, don’t just stand in the doorway like a lost animatronic. Sit down if you’re going to bother me.”

“Right. Sorry.” Jeremy hurriedly went to sit down in the rusty folding chair next to Michael. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“I didn’t. That chair has just been here every shift I’ve worked,” Michael answered, checking through the cameras. “I can’t believe you’re insane enough to do that though.”

“Do what?”

“Go into Parts and Service. Cassidy doesn’t like it when people come in there,” Evan supplied. “Nobody’s supposed to go in there at night.”

“It’s part of my patrol,” Jeremy said defensively.

“You’re insane for doing a patrol in the first place!” Michael exclaimed. “I thought you’d broken in or something, and I was going to handle it, but Evan said that’s Cassidy’s job. Which, you had to be testing her patience with how long you stuck around in there.”

“I feel like I should be worried.”

“You should be.” Evan assessed him as Michael went back to focusing on the cameras. “I thought the rabbit thing killed you, you know.”

“Should I know what you’re talking about?” Jeremy asked, uncomfortable as the ghost boy studied him. He made Jeremy exceedingly uneasy, and he couldn’t describe why.

A helpful thought decided to interject for a moment, thankfully making him feel a little bit safer. Michael couldn’t have killed his brother. Otherwise, why would they be working together like this?

“Yeah.” Evan tossed a crumpled hat into Jeremy’s lap. “This is yours, right?”

Startled, Jeremy scrambled to catch it, seeing the black stains spotting the rim and front of his hat. Because it was his hat, the one he’d been wearing the last time he transformed. Battered and covered in black oil and whatever that other fluid was, his hat was mostly still intact.

“Where did you get this?” Jeremy asked, smoothing it out to shove it back over his head.

Amused, Evan let out another scoff. “Do you even have a brain? I lost half mine, and I can still connect the dots.”

“His sister is much quicker than he is, that’s for sure,” Michael replied before Jeremy could sputter out a reply.

“You guys are mean.” Jeremy crossed his arms with a pout.

“If you’re going to be here, you can check the hallway and the left vent.” Michael tapped his flashlight, ignoring his words.

“Right, yeah okay.” Jeremy shone the beam of his flashlight down the hallway. “So, what? You’ve just been in the pizzeria the entire time?”

“Yeeep,” Evan answered, leaning across the desk to change the camera and wind the music box. “Most don’t usually live to see the sunrise after they’ve seen me though.”

“Lucky them,” Michael muttered, pulling the camera monitor out of his brother’s reach. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re a big grouch,” Evan retorted. He peered into the left vent. “Eugh, that stupid balloon kid is here. Scram!” His shout made whatever was in the vent squeal and scramble away.

Jeremy blinked. “So the animatronics are just scared of you?”

“Not all of them.” Evan answered with a meaningful look at the camera. “Just the insignificant ones.”

“Which translates to, all of them except the Puppet,” Michael added.

“I don’t scare Cassidy.”

“Cassidy’s not an animatronic, Evan.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Evan sighed. “She hates me.”

“I still doubt that.” Michael clicked to the Parts and Service camera, frowning. “You didn’t touch anything while you were back there, did you?”

“Not a thing. I was hoping to find my keys, but-“ Jeremy yelped as Evan tossed a set of keys at him. His flashlight crashed to the ground as he scrambled to catch them before they hit him. “Oh. Thanks, I guess?”

“You’re welcome.” Evan peered at the camera his brother was looking at. “You’re sure you didn’t touch anything?”

“I didn’t!” Jeremy protested, even as both brothers looked at him suspiciously. “I was tempted to touch the yellow rabbit guy when he fell out of that locker, but I didn’t, I promise.”

“Yellow rabbit?” Evan’s eyebrows scrunched. “I’ll be right back.”

Michael seemed worried too, his own mouth tightening into a thin line.

“What’s the deal with the… yellow rabbit?” Jeremy ventured to ask.

“Don’t worry about it I’m guessing you must not have seen him the night he was in here. Were you attacked by Toy Bonnie or something?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jeremy chuckled nervously, his spine prickling as he realized that they were probably talking about him. “But I can’t say I’ve seen any yellow rabbits before today.”

“Weird. Evan said he and Cassidy scared it off the last time.” Michael frowned deeper. “It crammed itself into a locker?”

“Well, I don’t know about that. But it was in a locker. I thought it was an animatronic though.”

“It is,” Michael supplied stiffly. “But it’s harmless. It shouldn’t be able to move at all.

“…” Jeremy opened his mouth to ask another question, but he didn’t know how to phrase it.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? Evan’s got it handled,” Michael replied sharply. “Just keep checking the vents.”

“Right, got it.” Jeremy retrieved his flashlight. “You seem to have a bad experience with it.”

“I guess you could say that,” Michael answered shortly. “And you really never saw it when Toy Bonnie attacked you?”

“Uh, nope. I remember working on my shift and then waking up naked in your house. That’s… about it…” Jeremy lied awkwardly.

“Hmm…” Michael didn’t seem too sure about that, but he let it go. “So you didn’t see the giant golden bunny in my house either?”

“Nope!” Jeremy scratched his neck nervously. “Do you think it was the same one Evan was worried about?”

“Can’t be,” Michael replied. “The one I saw was a literal rabbit. This one is animatronic. There’s no way those two are the same thing.”

“I suppose not.” Jeremy shrugged, regretting holding up this conversation. “You seem… less grouchy than earlier.”

Michael turned to Jeremy wearily. “I had a rough morning.”

“Yeah, no, I get that. I just… I wanted to apologize for my sister’s behavior this morning.” Jeremy cleared his throat. “And um. I was wondering if, like, there was a way to sort things out?”

“Oh, you mean about borrowing my clothes? Don’t even sweat it, I don’t need them back.” Michael returned his focus to his work.

“I know Ramona can be awful sometimes-“

“I don’t care about that, Jeremy.” Michael finally gave him proper eye contact, shooting a jolt up Jeremy’s spine. Damn, that was hot. “I don’t care that your sister thinks I’m a killer, or that she thinks my father is also a killer. I couldn’t care less, because she’s right.”

“Oh.” Jeremy shifted uncomfortably, surprised. “Who did you…?”

“Evan. My baby brother.” Michael turned away again, his voice leaving no room to continue the conversation. Jeremy struggled to find a way to resume it, but he couldn’t.

It was all too comforting when Evan reappeared to confirm that Jeremy hadn’t touched the suit.

“Cassidy can’t figure out why it would have moved,” Evan said, peering at the camera suspiciously. “Music box.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” Michael grumbled, but he wound the music box.

“Hey, so how did you die?” Jeremy asked, even though he knew the answer.

Evan raised a surprised eyebrow at him. “That’s such a brash question to ask a nine-year-old.”

“Yeah, but depending on how long you’ve been dead, technically you aren’t nine anymore.”

“Leave him alone,” Michael growled.

“You don’t need to coddle me, Mikey.” Evan rolled his eyes. “What year is it?”

“1987,” Jeremy supplied, pretending to be less afraid of the way Michael was glaring at him. He checked the hallway with his vent to try to divert attention. “It is November.”

“So I’ve been dead for like four years then. My dad killed me.”

“He did?” Jeremy raised an eyebrow at Michael, who scowled.

“He’s lying to you. I was the one who killed him.”

“The accident was an accident,” Evan argued. “You’re not a murderer, Mike.”

“I’m close enough to one,” he shot back.

“So wait, why would you say your father killed you?”

“Because he did.” Evan crossed his legs and peered at Jeremy. “I see why the others like you so much.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“You’re so…” Evan snapped his fingers, trying to think of the word. “Honest. Genuine. Something like that.”

“Candid, maybe?” Jeremy offered.

Michael made an irritated noise as Evan brightened. “That’s the word! Yeah, you’re just so candid and blunt about everything. It’s refreshing. No handholding or coddling.”

“I don’t coddle you more than you try to coddle me,” Michael grumbled.

“Anyway,” Evan shot a pointed look at his brother. “What actually happened was Mikey tried to play a prank on me regarding Fredbear. One of the animatronics of the original diner.” When Jeremy looked confused, Evan elaborated. “The first place wasn’t Freddy’s. Our father and Uncle Henry opened the business as Fredbear’s Family Diner. There were two original animatronics. Fredbear and Spring Bonnie.”

Michael made an impatient noise. “I stuck him in Fredbear’s mouth, and the bloody bear bit down on his head. It was my fault.”

“Your fault I was in the hospital, but not your fault I died,” Evan countered. “Michael was all about apologizing, promising to be a better brother if I just woke up. But when Father came to visit, he told me that this attention-seeking was ridiculous, that I should just open my eyes so the bad press would go away.”

Evan’s tone grew quieter, and even Michael paused, his expression softening. “He said that if I didn’t get up, I didn’t deserve to live. And then I was in the suit, with only Fredbear to keep me company.”

That’s the golden bear then, Jeremy thought. “So, your father is your killer?”

“Not just mine. All the missing kids too.” Evan shrugged. “We’d tear him to pieces if we could find him, but there’s only so many hours ghosts are awake.”

“Presumably only during this shift,” Michael added. “I don’t think Phil ever mentioned the haunted animatronics, and Ramona only mentioned rumors about them.”

Evan and Michael both didn’t seem very inclined to speak much after that. Michael did try to stop him when he went for his next patrol, but he didn’t care too much. The patrol was something he’d always done, and just because he was sharing a shift with someone in the office now didn’t mean he was going to stop doing it. It just gave him a longer time limit.

Maybe at some point he could ask about this mysterious ‘Cassidy’ that Evan kept mentioning. But for now, he checked corners and looked in the camera blind spots, knowing that most didn’t ever bother to check. Toy Freddy and Toy Chica didn’t seem too interested in leaving the stage tonight, which Jeremy was grateful for. The Puppet was sealed away, the music box wound tightly to keep the music playing.

And he remembered Evan’s words about Cassidy preferring to have people stay out of Parts and Service. Instead of entering the room, he just whispered at the door, “I’m trusting you to have everything handled in there Cassidy.”

A cold feeling enveloped him, and he shuddered as he walked away. It was weird to miss Mangle on a shift, but he supposed they wouldn’t come around while Evan was guarding the office. He checked the back door quickly to ensure it was locked and was glad to find that Michael had indeed locked it behind him.

“I wish I could complain about the job you’re doing here, but it seems to be fantastic,” Jeremy said with a sigh as he plopped back into his chair.

Michael raised an eyebrow at that, the constant frown relenting slightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Got the door locked and everything. Better than Fritz does, anyway.”

“Door was already locked when I got here,” Michael said. “But I’ll take the compliment.”

Huh. Interesting. Jeremy was curious about Michael’s sense of humor though, so he poked a little more. “Of course, I can’t really give you all the credit, since it seems that Evan and Cassidy are the ones who are actually in charge around here. They just tolerate you.”

Evan snorted at that, covering his mouth as Michael’s expression returned to a scowl. “I don’t know that you can say you’ve been doing much either, Jeremy.”

“I’m not claiming to. But the animatronics like me, according to Evan, so I have a one-up on you.”

Michael shook his head, but he didn’t rise to the bait.

The rest of the night passed in somewhat stiff silence.

“See you tomorrow night, I guess. Fitzgerald.” Michael rose, offering a hand for Jeremy to shake.

“Same to you, dude.” Jeremy shook his hand cheerily, trying not to visibly wince as Michael crushed his hand in the shake. “Until next time, Afton-“

As soon as he started to say the last word, Michael shoved him back against the wall, covering his mouth. A thrill ran through Jeremy as pain shot up his back. He couldn’t help a startled whimper as Michael glared at him with icy blue eyes.

“Never call me that. Understand? Never.”

“I… I understand! Yep! Never going to call you that ever again, never ever!” Jeremy chirped back, knowing his enthusiasm was way more than the situation required.

“It’s Schmidt. Michael Schmidt.”

“Then… I’ll see you tonight, Schmidt.”

Michael rolled his eyes, pulling a stick of gum from his pocket to start chewing it before he walked out of the security office. Evan had disappeared somewhere around 5, so Jeremy remained to tidy up a tiny bit before walking out to his car.

Michael was still on the sidewalk, presumably going to walk home, and Jeremy did not accept that he was just going to be walking in the chilly air in only his work uniform. He drove alongside Michael, rolling down his window. “Need a ride home?”

“No.” Michael kept walking, not even glancing at the car. “I’m used to walking everywhere.”

“You could catch a cold!” Jeremy protested.

“Good thing I’m not the only one on shift then,” he shot back, blowing a bubble with his gum. “Go home, Fitzgerald.”

“Alright fine. But if you get sick, I’m going to say ‘I told you so.’”

“I’m so terrified of the threat,” Michael replied sarcastically. “Goodbye.”

Rude, Jeremy thought with mild annoyance. But this was progress from last time! Last time, Michael hadn’t had much to say except “fuck off,” so at least Jeremy got through it this time without that. And he’d also gotten information that Ramona hadn’t had, which meant she was wrong about Michael Afton.

“So ghosts are real?” Ramona pressed as Jeremy hung up the phone after receiving a call from his friend Sebastian.

He was so lucky Seb was willing to give him a discount, so lucky he was willing to do repairs without questioning things. Jeremy had already gotten rid of the couch and burned his old sheets. The last step to making the whole rabbit nightmare a forgotten memory was the torn flooring.

“Yeah. And Evan has a much better sense of humor than his brother.” Jeremy shot his sister a skeptical look. “You’re not surprised by anything else I said?”

“Like what? The kid forgiving his older brother? You said he was like nine?”

Jeremy didn’t know how to respond to that. She wasn’t wrong. But it didn’t feel like she was completely right either. “But-“

“Jer, you’re being dumb about all this. You need to think with your brain at least some of the time.”

“I am using my brain! I was asking all the questions I needed answers to.”

“Yeah? Then why are you still so blatantly defending Michael Afton?”

Because if he’s a monster, then so am I, Jeremy thought to himself, but he didn’t say it out loud. “Forget it.”

“Jeremy-“

“No, it’s not worth arguing about. But Evan gave me back my keys.” Jeremy stood up moodily. “It was nice talking with you, Ramona, but I gotta get some sleep before tonight’s shift.”

“Jer, what’s bothering you? You know you can tell me about it, right?” Ramona pressed.

“I know. I just don’t feel like getting into it right now. That’s all. Have a good day, Mona.”

“You too, Jer.” Ramona hesitated for another moment. “I’m here for you, if you need anything.”

“I know.”

Ramona shot him a worried look as she got through the door, careful to avoid catching her pants on the splintered wood that Sebastian was going to replace.

After his sister left, Jeremy stripped, unsure of what triggered him to turn into the rabbit. He didn’t want to ruin clothes that didn’t belong to him though, so he wasn’t taking chances as he went to rest properly for the first time in ages.

Michael let himself back into his house with a heavy sigh. That shift had been long. He undid his tie, ignoring the impatient meowing at his feet while he changed out of his work clothes. “Give me some time, Logan.”

Logan meowed again, pawing at his empty bowl.

“One second, Logan.” Michael pulled a new shirt over his head before giving the cat a scratch behind his ear. “I’ll get that bowl filled in no time.”

After feeding Logan, Michael was tempted to go out and look for the bunny again. Surely it couldn’t have gone far, right? Even if it had been gone for a day, maybe it was just hungry and hunting. Maybe it had tried to return while Michael was gone and couldn’t get back in. Maybe-

You’re overthinking this. God, you are such a freak Michael. Michael shook his head, walking toward the place where he’d last seen the rabbit. Maybe the dumpster was its home?

His hopefulness diminished as he approached the dumpster. He couldn’t see any sign of it anyway. Shoulders slumping, he prepared to walk back, so he could let Logan have his own walk.

A soft thumb behind him made him hesitate though. Michael turned, excitement growing as he saw the giant shape of the golden rabbit who’d appeared very suddenly. “There you are!” Michael exclaimed, beaming as he reached out for the bunny.

His new friend nuzzled into his hand immediately, rubbing its fluffy face against his hand. “I missed you buddy,” Michael whispered into the overwhelmingly soft fur.

A soft rumble in the bunny’s throat soothed him, making all the irritation and torment from the last day completely vanishing. “You can’t just disappear on me, you know,” Michael said, trying for a scolding tone.

The bunny thumped his back foot as a reply.

“What? Are you going to say you didn’t miss me? Because I think you’d be lying.”

The bunny nosed at his neck. A soft, wet feeling made Michael’s neck prickle in the cold.

“Is that a way of saying you did miss me?” Michael asked, scratching up behind the rabbit’s ear.

He stumbled a bit as the rabbit rocked forward, knocking him off-balance a little bit. The rabbit kept nuzzling him until he was completely knocked to the ground. Startled, he didn’t even attempt to get up before he was completely enveloped in soft, warm, golden fur.

“Hey, hang on a sec-“ Michael tried to protest before the bunny squished its head down over his, keeping him even more safely enveloped in warmth. “I need to let Logan out for a bit! You’re going to make it so a poor little kitty can’t stretch his legs, is that what you want?”

A grumbling noise resonated in the back of the bunny’s throat, but it let Michael get to his feet. “Thank you.”

Michael walked back, knowing that the bunny was going to follow him back this time. He didn’t even need to stress about it. Michael grabbed his mail from the box on his way back into the house, tossing the pile onto his table before shaking the harness to get Logan to come running.

“Time for your walk, you crazy cat,” Michael said, pretending to ignore the rabbit who’d opted to lurk on the front lawn instead of coming in this time. Maybe it likes to be free to roam, he thought to himself.

Logan was happy enough to take his walk, purring as they returned. Shortly after Michael walked through the door and started undoing Logan’s harness, the rabbit wriggled into the house, looming behind Michael.

After he’d shut the door, Michael let out a big yawn, rubbing his eyes briefly. Gotta check the mail first, he scolded himself as he yawned again.

Glancing at the top of the stack, Michael felt himself pale. It was another letter from his father, this time marked as urgent. He hadn’t even opened the last one, and now he was getting another? Michael was just grateful his father didn’t know his phone number, but then actual horror struck him. He could just come to my house.

Michael twitched, grabbing the letter so tightly the edges crinkled. With a solid grip, he ripped the envelope and the contents in half. The rabbit flinched, clearly not expecting such a violent action. Logan was unaffected, as usual.

He tossed the torn remains into his trash bin and stalked to his bedroom, trying so hard not to start trembling or crying. The bunny nudged the door open and sniffed at the edge of his bed. Michael patted the side of his bed, giving it permission to jump up. The bunny took the permission easily, pressing comforting warmth into Michael’s back as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.

“Why can’t he just leave me alone?” Michael sobbed quietly. “It’s bad enough knowing that I did something monstrous, but he does it on purpose. I bet he’s out there doing it to some other poor kids now, and I’m just not strong enough to stand up to him.”

The bunny rumbled out a growl at the blame Michael placed on himself, but it still soothed his pain with soft fur. He rolled over and buried his face properly into the fur, his fingers tangling into the strands. So soft, he thought to himself, tears dampening the fur of the bunny’s chest.

Not that it seemed to mind, pulling Michael closer as he started drifting off to sleep. “I just don’t get it…” Michael trailed off, finally relaxing enough to let go of consciousness.

Jeremy woke up with his arms wrapped around a sleeping Michael. Why am I not surprised? he thought to himself, carefully untangling himself from his sleeping coworker. He’d kill me if he knew I was here.

Unease sank into Jeremy as he realized he was yet again left to try to sneak out without clothing. But at least he was in Michael’s room this time, and he could just grab clothes without getting caught.

His foot hit something soft and warm, and a disgruntled meow made Jeremy realize the cat was also here. Oh shit. Directing a glare at the cat, Jeremy climbed out of the bed without causing the cat or Michael to wake up completely. The black cat nestled back into his paws, purring loudly as Jeremy snuck a new pair of clothing out of Michael’s drawer.

He left quickly, pushing open a window and crawling out of it, ignoring the pain that shot through his feet as he landed on rocks. Jeremy glanced around before hurrying toward his house, memorizing the address as he left the place.

He felt bad for ditching, but he also knew he could not just stay after all that. Not after how upset Michael had seemed the first time. Until he could control when he turned into a rabbit and maybe stay as a rabbit when around Michael, then he wasn’t taking any chances.

Back home, Jeremy slipped socks onto his feet and glanced at the time. He had plenty of time to spare before work, but he still couldn’t help but feel a bit antsy. I’m not supposed to know where he lives, Jeremy thought glumly.

The phone ringing pulled Jeremy away from spiraling in his obsession. Maybe Ramona was right about all that stuff anyway. “Hello? Jeremy Fitzgerald here.”

“Jeremy! What a pleasant surprise to hear your voice. No offense, but we all thought you were dead!”

“Yeah, that’s what Michael told me,” Jeremy chuckled nervously, wondering why Lloyd was calling him.

“Hey, you’re not too opposed to just sharing that shift with him, right? I mean, I know you said you absolutely did not want to have to deal with kids, and I completely understand. Michael had the same qualms about the shift, but this is the only shift where no one is stuck hanging around children. But you’re all good with that? You’re fine sharing the workload? It's probably better anyway, having two people check on the place during those hours. Keeps the place safer- I mean, more secure!” Lloyd blabbed on, talking so fast Jeremy could barely keep up with what he was saying.

“I’m okay with it. Is he?” Jeremy leaned back against the wall, a finger hooked absently into the phone cord. An excuse to spend more time with Michael? No way was he turning that down.

“Oh! Yeah, uh, he actually seemed more than happy to have someone else there. I guess he doesn’t have the same familiarity you have with the job yet. He’s probably a bit jittery about the atmosphere. You know, he’s never had a nighttime security job before, actually.”

“Lloyd, is that all you needed from me, or is there something else?”

“Oh, that’s it. Uh, except one thing. We found a bunch of the torn remains of your uniform. Did you want a new one? I’m guessing that you’ve been using the spare, but you should really have more than one.”

“By that logic, I should have at least three,” Jeremy pointed out. “In case one is misplaced or ruined, or another incident like the other night happens.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

“Toy Bonnie came after me. I don’t really remember what happened after that,” Jeremy replied swiftly. “I don’t need to fill out an incident report or anything do I? I mean, as far as I’m aware, no one got hurt.”

“Nobody was hurt in the incident. We didn’t actually know that until just now actually.” Lloyd laughed nervously. “No, we don’t need anything from you, don’t worry! It just would’ve helped us if you’d remembered something about Toy Bonnie attacking, or maybe Fritz coming in-“

“I don’t know anything about that, sorry.” Jeremy cleared his throat awkwardly. “But I can be in in a couple minutes if you have extra uniforms ready.”

“Oh! Yeah, I can totally do that. Yeah, if you come in before 6, I can totally get you set up with some new uniforms.”

“Great, I’ll see you at 5 then.”

“Fantastic!”

Jeremy hung up the phone feeling more awkward than ever before. At least he’d have a uniform again.

When he saw Michael at the next shift, he set out by tipping his hat at the other man. No response. Evan seemed a bit distracted today as well, somewhat of a frown crossing his face.

Jeremy sat down awkwardly in his chair, remembering Lloyd’s words from earlier. If he had to guess, maybe Michael had been relieved to have an excuse to make sure Jeremy wasn’t in any danger after all the personal risks he took at work.

“I’m going to do a patrol,” he announced abruptly, picking up his flashlight.

“Don’t die,” Evan said, peering over Michael’s shoulder.

“Right…” Jeremy looked at Michael hopefully, but the other man gave him no indication that he was going to say anything in reply.

The night was somewhat quiet. It was weird having the toy animatronics remaining onstage every night, and Jeremy almost wished they’d move so he could at least know that Toy Bonnie hadn’t been a fluke. Even Mangle hadn’t sought him out since he’d turned, presumably too afraid of him now to approach.

It made sense, considering how Percy was taking the exact same approach with him, but it still stung to know that his dog and his favorite animatronic no longer seemed to see him as a safe person. Even Evan didn’t trust him in that form, if Jeremy’s memory served correctly.

Nobody saw him as more than a monster aside from Michael. Was that why he was so magnetized to the other man? Physical attributes aside, Michael seemed well-guarded, not trusting other people. But he seemed to have a secret affection for animals. Even with the amount he swore at his cat, he seemed to love the cat enough to care for it when he was not in the mood to care for the poor thing.

Sighing, Jeremy started to head back toward the cold atmosphere of the main office. He stopped upon hearing what sounded like sobbing coming from Parts and Service.

“Hey, everything okay in there?” Jeremy asked, hoping for a gentle tone.

“No!” The door flew open, nearly hitting Jeremy in the face, and he couldn’t help but flinch at the small girl glowering at him with thick black tear streaks running down her face. “He’s come back, and I can’t stop him!”

“Who came back?” Jeremy asked, crouching down to her level. “Sorry for asking, but I seem to be a bit out of the loop.”

“You take things more seriously than most,” she huffed. Then she blinked at him. “Wait, you’re that security guard guy. We all thought you died!”

“That seems to be the common consensus,” Jeremy sighed. “But who came back? Clearly he’s no one good if you are unhappy about it.”

“No. He killed me, and he’s gonna kill more kids.”

“Oh.” A prickle of fear made Jeremy tremble a bit at that. “When did he come back?”

“Not too long ago. We didn’t notice the changes in his suit, but-“ she glanced at the darkened area for a moment. “Here, I’ll just show you.”

Cold fingers wrapped around Jeremy’s wrist, and he was startled to discover that apparently ghosts could in fact touch people.

“So, originally, he was in that locker there, right?” the girl gestured at the locker Jeremy had originally spotted the animatronic at.

“Yeah…”

“Well, he’s not anymore. Now he’s on the floor over here,” Cassidy pointed directly at where the golden bunny suit was slumped next to the old Freddy model.

“Oh. And this suit’s not possessed right? Nobody should be moving it?”

“No one should be moving it. Employees can get fired for touching it, much less moving it. And I haven’t seen it move on its own.”

“Ghosts can only do things at this time of night…” Jeremy trailed off thoughtfully. “You think it’s the same guy who killed you?”

“I know it is. I had to ask a bunch of times to get anywhere with Evan. That kid is so tight-lipped, I swear.” The girl shook her head. “But apparently, this suit here can only be activated by a key. One person had that key.”

“Your killer.”

“William Afton,” she confirmed. “At least, that’s what Evan says, but he’s been wrong about so much lately, that I’m just worried he’s wrong about that too.”

“Did you try asking Michael?”

“Evan doesn’t think I should talk to the security guards.” The girl shrugged. “He thinks I’ll just kill you guys. But I’m not that murderous. I still have a brain, unlike some people.”

“So you must be Cassidy?”

“Yep.” Cassidy sighed. “I mean, I don’t want to complain because it makes sense that Evan wants to spend time with his brother, but I miss being able to roam the pizzeria freely. Ever since Toy Bonnie got dinged, I’ve been checking in here to make sure Spring Bonnie hasn’t been used. I think we scared him off pretty well though.”

“Spring Bonnie…?”

“The yellow rabbit suit,” Cassidy pointed, rolling her eyes. “Oh! One more thing. I know you’re like, nocturnal or whatever like we are. But you can actually wake up during the day. Could you like, keep an eye out for someone wearing the suit?”

“I mean, I suppose. Did Evan bring that up to Michael?”

“I doubt it. He hates the idea of getting you guys involved.” Cassidy wrinkled her nose. “Something about trying not to cause more deaths than necessary, but he’s not going to kill an adult out in the open like that. I think it’s fine.”

“Huh. Okay. I mean, I can try…”

“Whatever works.” Cassidy seemed satisfied, finally noticing the red light on in the camera. “Oh! Say cheese!”

“That’s a live feed, Cassidy. It’s not a picture camera.”

“You’re no fun.” Cassidy stuck her tongue out at him. “Bye bye for now. I’ll expect results later.”

“I hope I’ll have results for you.”

“That’s the spirit!” Cassidy said cheerfully before disappearing.

Resigning himself to the blinking light of the security camera, Jeremy went back to the office. If he hadn’t been sure before, Evan’s scowl told him plenty about what he needed to know.

“What were you thinking?” Evan hissed, his eyes so dark there was absolutely no color aside from the darkest of dark pits.

“Uhh…”

“She could’ve killed you!”

“She dragged me in there!” Jeremy said in protest.

“Did she now? Maybe she’s just lonely because she lost her best friend.” Michael shot a pointed look at his brother.

“Cassidy can’t stand me,” Evan scoffed, but he let up on Jeremy a little bit. “What did she want?”

“Help with her little investigation into Spring Bonnie.” Jeremy dropped into his chair and peered at the camera monitor in Michael’s hands. “Still no animatronic movement, huh? Almost like they were told to stay put.”

He raised an eyebrow at Evan. The kid rolled his eyes, the frown not relenting. “Toys aren’t our thing. We watch over the others.”

“So the toys not moving is also suspicious behavior?” Jeremy asked. “Hey, not to be dumb or anything, but how much did your dad work with the animatronics?”

“He helped create them, so a pretty significant amount,” Michael answered. “Evan, I just think you should make up with her.”

“There’s nothing to make up! She doesn’t want anything to do with me, and that’s fine. I’ll stay out of her space, and she can take care of the others!”

“She said you told her to stay in Parts and Service,” Jeremy said.

“You’re going to believe her over me? Mikey, you can’t believe this, surely!”

“I mean, I don’t know what to believe. I’ve never spoken to Cassidy before, and if its your word or Jeremy’s, then I’ll take your word for it. But I do still think you should try to resolve this conflict you have with her-“

“Think what you want then! I don’t care!” Evan’s eyes flashed before he abruptly vanished.

Jeremy sat in stunned silence as Michael just continued checking things. “Well that was…”

“He’s just pouting. We’ve had this argument before, don’t worry.” Michael didn’t glance over at Jeremy as he talked. “So, Cassidy let you off with a warning or something I’m guessing?”

“I already said she dragged me in. She wants me to go in during the day and look out for a guy in a rabbit costume.”

“That could only be one person, you know,” Michael said grimly, sitting back to start giving Jeremy his attention. “My father only made one key for that suit.”

“Cassidy said that. She also seems a bit weary of taking information from Evan since he seems a little…”

“Mixed up?” Michael shrugged. “Yeah, don’t put too much stock in what he says. I don’t think he fully knows where he’s at.”

“That’s fair, I guess…” Jeremy wasn’t fully appreciative of that response. “So, you still think your dad killed those kids?”

“Without a doubt. He was always a bit more bitter when he had to deal with them, and if the other kids say it was the golden bunny man, then who am I to say they’re wrong? It makes sense.” Michael shook his head. “I still don’t understand what kind of monster could willingly decide that kids couldn’t get to live their lives though.”

“A kind that’s actually a monster as opposed to someone who thinks of himself as one?” Jeremy offered.

Michael turned his gaze on Jeremy lazily. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Is it working?”

“Not more than Evan’s assurances. Listen, I made my peace with what I did a long time ago.”

“It doesn’t seem like it.” Jeremy laid a reassuring hand on Michael’s arm. “You didn’t mean it. There’s no way you and your dad are even remotely in the same league-“

“Yeah, but a monster is a monster, aren’t they? Killers are monsters, Jeremy. Simple as that.” Michael slipped his hand away and went back to the cameras. “It’s not like it’s possible to always spot a monster on the surface anyway. Maybe you’re just telling yourself I can’t be a monster because I don’t look like one.”

Jeremy stiffened at that. You don’t have to look like a monster to be a monster. Did that mean the opposite was true too? He wanted desperately to know the answer.

Michael tried to give him a smile. “Look, it’s no big deal, really. If you aren’t actively saying I’m following in my father’s footsteps, then I think things are okay, you know? Like, I may not really like you, but I don’t think you’re a complete twat.”

“Uh, thanks?” Jeremy didn’t know how to respond to that, instead shining his light into the vent to avoid the heat that rose to his face at what he was guessing was meant to be a compliment.

“Anytime.” Michael chuckled softly. “Looks like he’s going for a full night sulk tonight. Guess it’s just us now.”

“Think you’ll be able to handle the office once I go on my next patrol?” Jeremy asked teasingly.

Michael snorted. “With the animatronics the way they are? I’ll be more than fine.”

“Good to know.”

A few nights passed like this, Michael offering minimal conversation during the shift, Jeremy taking his time to do patrols and update Cassidy on what he saw during the days.

It wasn’t much more than he had during the night, but Cassidy seemed to appreciate it nonetheless. And if he showed up to work tired, then that was fine too. Michael would shake his head, and Evan was still pouting about his argument with Cassidy, so he didn’t care.

Still, he felt a little bit bad whenever he realized he’d nodded off, insisting that Michael wake him. And evidently, that was not happening every time it happened. It hadn’t hurt anything so far though, so Jeremy was willing to let it slide.

It had taken him ages, quietly arguing with Evan while Jeremy slumped in his chair, to convince his brother to try and work things out with Cassidy. Evan had been furious that Cassidy was putting Jeremy in harm’s way, but Michael thought he probably knew the risks of what he was getting into.

Why should Cassidy get the blame anyway? She wanted help, not to doom another man to die. And Evan had given plenty of warning, so Jeremy could’ve backed out whenever he wanted to, so it was fine. There was simply no need to keep blaming Cassidy.

Michael spared a glance away from his constant checking to look at the uncomfortable way Jeremy had passed out in his chair, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth, hat knocked askew. On impulse, he reached over and fixed Jeremy’s hat, before deciding to move him to the floor.

Jeremy’s head knocked into Michael’s chest, and he felt sure that the man would wake. Jeremy hardly stirred, so Michael continued to lay him down, removing Jeremy’s jacket to tuck it beneath his head like a pillow. There, Michael thought to himself, somewhat satisfied before he went back to flick through the cameras absently.

Unfortunately for Mike, however, he’d missed the sound of an animatronic crawling into the vent, too focused on making sure he didn’t wake up Jeremy to pay much attention to the world around him.

The loud static did eventually catch Michael’s attention, and he set the monitor down, forgetting to wind the music box as he glanced at the phone. It was in its cradle, and belatedly Michael realized that noise meant animatronic, and he turned to check the vent just as Mangle swung down to attack.

Michael yowled in pain as the impact knocked him from his chair and plastic teeth tore through his face. The edge of the desk caught the other side of his face, making his vision blurry as he faintly caught the sound of tearing fabric and an angry growl.

Something warm ran down his face as the animatronic screeched, hiding away from the giant shadow looming over Michael. Struggling to push himself upright, he found himself surrounded by golden fur. Oh. Michael blinked blood out of his eye, struggling to process the scene around him, only slightly frightened now that he knew his rabbit friend had somehow appeared to aid him. I hope it doesn’t step on my coworker. That’d be awkward to explain.

“Mikey!” Evan’s voice echoed in the quiet environment. “Michael?”

The bunny was growling, a low rumble vibrating through its body. Cool hands cupped both sides of Michael’s face as Evan’s face came into view.

“Oh my god,” Evan breathed, smudging the blood stream ever so slightly. “Where did Jeremy go? I thought you knew what you were doing!”

“Glad you’ve got your priorities in order,” Michael answered slowly, still struggling to focus on his brother’s face. “Your hands are cold.”

“Of course they are.” Evan huffed in exasperation. “Wait, you’re totally in shock. Mikey…”

“The music box…” Michael trailed off as he registered that a completely quiet room was not a good thing.

Evan’s eye widened. “Oh no.”

The sound of aggressive music echoed in the halls as the Puppet made its approach. Not that it was much of a problem, seeing as Michael’s bunny pinned the animatronic to the ground before it could do much.

“Wait, don’t do that,” Evan said hurriedly. “Uh, I need to-“

“Yeah, no, go ahead.” Michael’s eyelids fluttered shut as Evan went away to shout at the bunny who was currently having a very intense stare down with the Puppet.

Jeremy hadn’t known he’d fallen asleep on shift that night. Waking up tangled in bindings made of shimmery thread had not been the most reassuring thing. More startling than that, however, was the pooling blood around Michael’s head as Evan argued with an unfamiliar girl.

Cautiously he untangled himself and dug into the duffel bag he started to bring to every shift, grateful for his planning as the remains of his uniform remained littered across the floor. The bickering children didn’t notice as he slipped his uniform on quickly before pressing his jacket (which for some reason was folded on the floor) to the wound on Michael’s head. Jeremy managed to pull the man close so he could hold the fabric to the wound while still being able to dial for the hospital.

Jeremy didn’t know how Michael had been injured, but based on the teeth marks, he had a sinking feeling Mangle had done something to the poor man. He did look a bit too similar to his father for Jeremy’s liking. That had to be the real reason Michael was so vigilant and why Evan was so paranoid about him missing things in the cameras.

The children stopped arguing to look at him when he was explaining things to the emergency operator, seeming to realize that maybe there were more urgent things to deal with than whatever they’d been arguing about. Jeremy clutched the plastic tightly in one hand as he clutched to Michael’s injury with the other.

Evan was the first to approach Jeremy, looking more disheveled than Jeremy even knew ghosts could be. “You’re the rabbit thing.”

Jeremy nodded awkwardly. He knew they’d discovered him the minute he’d woken up and was tangled in that same shimmery stuff that he’d seen under his skin before he transformed the first time.

“Our conversation isn’t over, Evan,” the girl said, impatiently. “Sure, Mike takes priority, but the fact that you guys tried to lock me away is absolutely insane.”

“How about we skip the interrogation until we know that Michael’s okay,” Jeremy said weakly.

“I guess that’s a good way to put things.” The girl crouched at Michael’s side, brushing bloodied hair out of his face. “Although you and me need a talk at some point, Mr. Fitzgerald.”

“I’m long overdue for talks with a bunch of people now,” Jeremy muttered.

Please be okay.

#cloud writes #werebunny au #jeremy fitzgerald #ramona fitzgerald #michael afton #evan afton #cc fnaf #cassidy fnaf #cw violence #cw injury #cut right through me

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colorfulbard · 2 months

Text

Sacrifice

‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿︵‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿︵‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿

Summary♥︎ A forced visit to Whole Cake Island takes a turn for the worst when Big Mom is experiencing hunger pangs while Katakuri is away on a mission.

Pairing♥︎ Katakuri x Fem!Reader

warnings♥︎ Reader has kids with Katakuri, angst at the end

a/n♥︎ I've been starving for some more Katakuri fics so I had to take matters into my own hands. I put that warning because I know some people don't like reading fanfic where the reader has kids. Don't worry there will be a part 2!

‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿︵‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿︵‿︵‿꒰͜͡ ♡ ͜͡꒱‿︵‿

People always say, "practice makes perfect". That means, the more you do something, the better you'll be. Like baking, for example. If you practice making the same for over twenty years, you would be considered an expert. You might even be running through the steps on autopilot.

But, no matter how many times you've dealt with this scenario, it never became easier. Honestly, it felt harder to deal with each time.

An easy going saying like, "practice makes perfect", doesn't apply when dealing with a tyrannical emperor with deadly hunger pangs.

The steps taken when it began never changed. All high ranking officials were to report to the surveillance room, turn on the video snails, and give orders to anyone available at the Chateau.

Those down at the Chateau were to remain clear of Big Mom and evacuate any and all innocent citizens.

After many, many years, those steps were done in no time at all. And yet, the sick feeling of fear in your stomach never subsided. Your hands were pinned under your arms to keep from biting your nails. Too bad that didn't stop you from biting your lip instead.

You truly hated traveling to the main island for this reason. You longed for your home, back at Komugi island. The one you shared with your husband, Katakuri, and your fifteen children. Peace and quiet may be impossible to come by, but dealing with a child's temper tantrum was preferable to Big Mom's.

Having to deal with this on your own only made your bitter feelings towards the Whole Cake Chateau grow. The initial plan was to travel together, you and Katakuri. He knew how nervous being alone with his mother made you. But those plans were squandered when Big Mom ordered all ministers gather ingredients for her blasted wedding cake. Then, to make matters worse, he was called away on another mission.

Now, because of that string of unfortunate events, he somehow convinced you to bring your two oldest sons with you, Warabiko and Manju. For some reason, you had said yes. Probably just to ease his mind. In return, your mind was not at ease. It was filled to the brim with anxiety.

You took a slow, deep breath. "And we're sure it's not possible to catch the croquembouche that checked out this morning?" You asked slowly to keep your voice steady.

"It doesn't seem plausible. Either way it'd be a half hour."

You wanted to open your mouth to argue, but it was too difficult. The screams of the terrified homies made it impossible to focus. Those screams were keeping you in a continuous state of unease. You couldn't be selfish and mute the video feed. It was imperative for everyone to hear what was happening.

Big Mom was getting further away from the current video snail. It was time to play the waiting game and see when the feed would switch. You looked down at the floor for a moment of respite from staring at the rampaging Emperor.

You clenched your eyes shut. The screams were distant now, but you could still hear them. Your mind unwillingly imagined it as your sons. You knew they were somewhere safe, away from harm. You made sure of that before you reported to the surveillance room. Even so, as the screams continued, your mind took you the worst possible scenario.

You let your head tilt down to face the floor. At least then, if you somehow managed to open your eyes, you wouldn't be facing the screen.

'Kata... Please, come back to me soon..' Tears began to form behind your eyelids when you thought of him. You needed him to be here.

A hand softly landed on your shoulder in an attempt to not startle you. You took that as a nonverbal sign that the video feed switched. You glanced over your shoulder to see Tamago's hand, but he wasn't looking at you. His eyes were locked onto the screen, his mouth agape.

Your brows furrowed, he always seemed much more coolheaded than you in these scenarios, so, why did he look so spooked? Before checking the footage, you glanced at everyone in the room. Their expression matched Tamago's. The air in the room was tense, as if your anxiety had seeped out of your body and infected everyone else.

You finally looked towards the screen. The scene was the same except Big Mom was getting further away. Homies were still trampled and distant screams could be heard as she trampled over more. But you didn't even notice any of those things.

When you spotted what everyone else was staring at, you froze. Your muscles were locked.

Right there, where Big Mom was stomping through moments ago, stood your eldest son. You couldn't see his face, his back was facing away from the snail. He held onto his sword tightly. It was a gift from you and Katakuri on his eighteenth birthday.

Your hand moved on its own to cover your mouth in shock, the other moved to your stomach. Were you breathing? You couldn't feel anything.

Your head shook from side to side. "No." You whimpered.

Static flickered through the screen and then showed an enraged Big Mom rampaging. You breathing hitched when the sight of your son was gone. The silent scene of your son's determination was replaced by helpless homies getting eaten or stomped on.

Every second that was wasted staring, your son was getting closer to Big Mom. Without wasting anymore time, you pushed Tamago's hand from your shoulder and ran out of the room.

The state of the room remained the same as you left. Everyone stayed silent as they continued watching the footage. Too anxious to see what might happen next.

When Warabiko finally reached Big Mom, he was horrified. All of citizens of Whole Cake were terrified, running for their lives lest they be squashed under her heel. He had never seen this happen. He now understood why his family's trips to Whole Cake never lasted more than a day.

He remembered that whenever a tea party was held for one his newest siblings, you demanded to leave as soon as it was over. No matter how much his siblings whined about being tired and wanting to sleep on land, you put your foot down. This was his first time being here for over a day, much to your chagrin.

When he grew older and more mature, you told him stories of his grandmother's famous hunger pangs. The stories were short and brief. He could tell you didn't like talking about them. He finally understood why as he watched Big Mom rampage with reckless abandon.

Something in his gut told him to turn back now and hide with his brother. He ignored that feeling. He couldn't stand by and do nothing. With his father away on a mission, the duty of evacuating citizens and calming Big Mom fell on his shoulders. He was going to make his father proud.

Fighting her was out of question, but he could try and reason with her. She had to be willing to listen to his first grandchild, right?

Her path of destruction was never-ending as he got closer to her. He had to be careful. It was clear that when she's this hungry, all of her sense was gone. She didn't care who or what was in her way during her search.

It didn't even matter if it was an innocent little girl. She hadn't even tripped over the rubble, she had tripped over her feet trying to keep up with her mother. The mother hadn't even noticed, too terrified to look back.

The girl shakily stood on her feet and rubbed the debris from her knees. Her heard swayed from side to side to try and spot her mother. She had no idea Big Mom's foot was inches away from crushing her.

Warabiko immediately lunged towards Big Mom's feet and grabbed the girl. He landed on his feet and placed the girl on the ground.

The girl looked up and smiled up at her savior. "Thank you so much!" She cheered, "that was fun!"

She acted like she wasn't just moments away from being killed. Warabiko smothered his feeling of shock down and sighed. "Run away from her and find your mother. It's not safe," he instructed.

The girl nodded with a giggle and ran off, far from Big Mom.

Whilst Warabiko had dealt with the girl, Big Mom had busied herself with eating any homie or building in her way. Her anger grew as each thing she shoved down her throat tasted nothing like her craving.

"Where is it?!" She whined, "where is my croquembouche?!" She punched another building. Nothing but croquembouche could placate her.

"Mama, please! You just have to wait! The chefs will be here soon!"

Warabiko recognized the voice as one of his uncle's, Mont-d'Or. Another one of his uncle's and aunt led citizens away in the opposite direction.

Nothing Mont-d'Or said got through her to her. He was too far away for her to care. Warabiko's jaw clenched and he ran to stand in front of her, arms out. "Grandma, please! You have to stop!" He pleaded.

Big Mom paused and locked eyes with the source of the sound. She snarled and clenched her fist, "who's there?" She questioned.

Warabiko's brows furrowed and he could feel himself grow warm. "I-It's me! Grandma, it's Warabiko!" His voice grew higher in pitch, his hands began to shake, "don't you recognize me?" The question was practically a whisper.

Big Mom growled and swung at where he stood. Warabiko was able to dodge, but not without losing his footing. He fell onto scattered rubble and grunted when it dug into his back.

Mont-d'Or's mouth was open wide in shock the moment he saw Warabiko enter the fray. "M-Mama! Wait!" He pleaded, coming closer. "You have to stop! It's Warabiko! Your grandson!"

Big Mom paid Mont-d'Or's pleading no mind. She was still infuriated that her search for croquembouche was interrupted. "Where is my croquembouche boy?!" She demanded. "All I want is my croquembouche!" She swung at the building next to Warabiko and ate the contents she managed to grab.

The remnants of her snack flew all around. Warabiko turned over on his side and cradled his head. He could hear it land all around him.

Mont-d'Or clenched his jaw as he watched Warabiko cradle himself. He couldn't go over there and try to save him, he'd end up dying too. He just hoped Warabiko was a fast runner.

"Warabiko, you have to run! You can't reason with when she's like this!" He yelled.

Warabiko lifted his head and looked towards his uncle. Judging by the way Mont-d'Or stared at him, he was sure his terror was plain as day. He couldn't move thanks to that terror gripping his muscles. It was affecting his brain, not allowing him to choose between fight or flight. Maybe Big Mom wouldn't pay him any mind if he stayed silent.

She was still there, right behind him. Warabiko didn't have to turn his head to know that. He could practically feel her breathing down his neck. The only part of his body that managed to move was his spine as shivers went down it. She wasn't moving away from him. Her gaze was burning into his back.

Big Mom's breathing grew stronger and he could smell the sweets emanating from it.

Warabiko somehow willed his head to move back to look at his grandmother. His next breath was caught in his throat when he locked eyes with her.

Her scowl was gone. In its place was a sickening grin. Her eyes were unrecognizable, they were glazed over and crazed. Drool was dripping down her chin and she stared at him.

She leaned closer to his face. "Life..." She whispered, giggling like a mad woman, "or treat?"

Warabiko couldn't answer even if he wanted to. The words were caught in his throat, choking him. He could only watch as his grandmother raised her first high in the air.

He knew what his grandmother's fruit was capable of, his father had told him. His father had probably hoped he would take it as a warning to stay away. Too bad he didn't listen.

Everything began to slow down. His mother's first was taking minutes to reach him and Mont-d'Or's yelling was indistinguishable. Typically, these were the moments where one's life would flash before their eyes. Oddly enough, that didn't happen. He only saw one thing. It was you. His sweet mother, smiling down at him. Your eyes crinkled as you smiled. They were the same color as his own. That was the only feature you two shared.

From his point of view, he could see his hands attempt to grab your face. They were so small here. He must've been a baby. This was a memory he didn't even realize he had.

You were giggling at his futile attempts. You brushed his cheek with your finger and began to sing.

La la lu

Oh, my little star sweeper

Your voice was so soft and sweet. His eyes began to droop as your singing lulled him to sleep. The warmth of your arms was seeping through the soft blanket touching his skin. He recognized the blanket. It was his favorite, handmade by you. Each of siblings had one similar to it, a different color for each one.

He could feel you moving him about the room, swaying him. Through his half lidded eyes, he could see his father standing at the corner of the room. The scarf was gone, and he was smiling.

It was such a nice, warm memory. It was perfect for falling asleep. Warabiko kept forcing his eyes open to stay awake, but your voice was so comforting. It reminded him of the warm donuts you made, fresh out of the oven on a quiet morning.

There was no harm in closing his eyes, he'll see you again when he woke up. His small body went limp in your arms as his eyes began to close without fight.

His body was mere milliseconds away from relaxing into a comfy sleep. Until a sharp jab at his side forced him awake. The warmth of the memory was gone. Whatever it was that hit him launched far from where he previously was.

Warabiko was on high alert now. Big Mom was still angry, still searching for croquembouche. He shakily stood on his feet with a hand on the side where he was jabbed. He glanced back to where he remembered seeing his uncle's and aunt.

Physically, he could see they weren't hurt. But their faces held a different story. They were terrified, all color was drained from their faces. It was odd considering Mont-d'Or and Opera's skin tone.

Warabiko dared follow their gaze and he soon wished he hadn't. His heart stopped and ice filled his veins, making him freeze in place.

He didn't even notice nor hear Big Mom stomp away in the opposite direction, demanding croquembouche. In that moment, in his mind, everything was quiet.

A mirror image of his eyes was staring straight into his own. That familiar color he always saw in the mirror was drained away, and only white remained.

The only movement that was seen wasn't a sign of life. It was just your body falling to the ground. The sound of it reverberated throughout the whole Chateau.

Warabiko would hear that sound in his nightmares.

#charlotte katakuri #katakuri x reader #angst

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normal-internet-user · 2 years

Note

You need some Rise!Splinter, so here we go: Splinter finds out that their boys are in a relationship (with their own s/o, of course!) Aaaand... Goes into father mode. You know: wanting to know details, giving date advices, checking if their lover is "good enough" for his boys... Expect embarassment situation😆

OHMYGOD THE POTENTIALL

RISE SLINTER WHEN HE FINDS OUT HIS BOYS ARE DATING

Leo:

Splinter knows?

Fucking how???

He did his absolute best to keep Splinter in the dark because he knew this would happen-

Splinter had pulled him aside to have a talk.

Little did he know it was THE talk.

You know the one.

Leo was mortified.

After that, Splinter demanded to know all the "Juicy details." as he put it.

Uh, yeah no.

Oh my god when Splinter meets you Leo wants to crawl into the ground and die of embarrassment.

Why couldn't he ask normal questions like, "What are your hobbies?" or "How many siblings do you have?" No he had to ask if you ever planned to marry his son.

Both you and Leo did a doubke take and grew as red as tomatoes.

Then Splinter left, smiling and laughing.

Leo is 100% sure that Splinter just want to embarrass him.

Raph:

Actually, Splinter was the first to know when you guys start dating.

Unlike Leo, Raph felt it was important for his dad to know.

He wasn't however, expecting to sit with his dad for hours, while Splinter gave him dating advice.

Then of course, "And finally, I demand to meet the person who has your love. I must make sure they are good enough for you."

Raph was nervous as all hell the day you were set to meet the fam, before he left to get you, his brothers kept complaining about his fear stink.

Splinter gave you a quick once over, smiled, then flashed Raph a thumbs up.

"Good job." he said, then spent the rest of dinner getting to know you

*relief*

Donnie:

No,

Nononono

The utter embarrassment he feels at how his father is acting.

He is positivly mortified.

No, father, you are not getting details.

Have we kissed yet?

I am not telling you.

No you cannot meet them yet.

Why?

You know why.

When he does meet you, Donnie is terrified that Splinter will embarrass him.

And he does exactly that,

When Splinter see's you, it goes exactly like this, "Are you sure? You could do so much better."

"Father, that is incredibly rude. I love them-"

"I am not talking to you, I'm talking to them."

He then grabbed your hands and pulled you down to his level, "This entire family is crazy, get out while you still have the chance."

"DAD-"

Mikey:

I'm sorry what?

His youngest is dating?

No way, he's just a baby!

Wait, he's a teenager?

Oh.

WELL STILL-

The talk is unavoidable.

And Mikey is red for DAYS afterward.

Even then, he's really excited for you to meet his dad.

When Splinter meets you,

You are instantly his new favorite, already telling Mikey how he has to marry you, leaving the both of you blushy and embarrassed.

Whenever you visit now, Splinter is always in Mikey's line of sight, attrmpting to signal advice to his youngest.

It does not work.

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

Anon, you are 100% right. My blog is extremely lacking in rise Splinter. So here you go!

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #x reader #leonardo x reader #donnie x reader #rottmnt #raphael x reader #normie writes #mikey x reader #rottmnt headcanons #splinter tmnt #lou jitsu #master splinter

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thisreadswhatever · 11 months

Text

The Chase: Part One

Pretty Sweet

series masterlist

[description]: jax teller x female reader

[wordcount]: 2.7k+

[summary]: Jax Teller is used to getting what he wants. At least that was the case before he met you.

[cw]: 18+ only minors do not interact - AU, follows some canon characters & themes but timeline is different. otherwise none yet, but stick with me, I have a smutty plan!

[authors note]: this has been really fun to write. thank you so much to this anon for requesting this idea! I plan on writing a good few parts of this.. as I am really loving writing this reader insert. if you have any ideas or suggestions on where you would like this to go, please let me know! I absolutely love getting your suggestions. I really hope you enjoy!

It had been a long sixteen hour drive. You sighed with relief as you sped past the large wooden slice, “WELCOME TO CHARMING”. You rolled your windows down, the wind blistering through your hair as you took in the warm California sun.

You turned the music up, attempting to drown out the events replaying in your head that led you here in the first place.

Charming wasn’t exactly on your bucket list of places to travel. Your parents had split a few years back, after your mom decided she could no longer handle the baggage that came with the Sons of Anarchy MC. Your Dad was an avid member of the Denver Charter, and she soon realised she couldn’t sit back and watch as he grew deeper into the Club. It was a quick and amicable divorce, made easier by the fact you were an only child and more than understanding of why the relationship had to end. You were old enough to see the pain your mom went through trying to make it work, and you knew that it was the best decision for them both. Your Dad on the other hand, never really got over it.

When your mom remarried last year, he decided to leave Colorado and transferred to the SAMCRO Charter. Charming was his home now. He’d been begging you to visit him for months, and despite the fact you were genuinely pleased that he was happy, seeing him so far from home and content without his family wasn’t something you’d looked forward too.

Charming was a small place, and from what your Dad had told you, it had never really left the seventies. Denver was the total opposite, a city full of life and people, and ever growing with new expanding chains of business. Even with the freezing winters, there was always something to do in Denver. But Charming? They barely had a population of fifteen thousand.

You had evaded the trip for as long as you could, blaming college assignments and exams for the reason you couldn’t make the drive. Now that you’d graduated, the excuses had run thin, and it was time to visit your Dad in Charming.

You pulled into the road of the address he had given you, entering a long unpaved driveway that ended on the outside of a dainty cabin. Your Dad’s bike was parked stagnant on the dirt. You dug your suitcase out from your trunk and walked up the wooden steps to the porch, bringing your hand to the door to knock. Before your knuckles could meet the wood, the door flung wide and your Dad lunged at you with open arms.

“You’re finally here!”, he squealed in excitement as he grasped you into a giant bear hug.

“‘Finally’ is right. That was a serious drive, Dad.”

He took your suitcase and carried it through the entryway. “Sure is. I’m so glad you got here safely, kiddo. Come on, let’s get you settled. You hungry? I was just about to make some lunch.”

You followed him inside as you observed the interior of the quaint, dusty cabin. “I could definitely eat.”

—

Your Dad showed you to your room and then became sidetracked from lunch, giving you a full tour of his new home and the complete low down of all things SAMCRO. He’d explained that the place was owned by the Club, but nobody ever frequented it unless they were in hiding. Your Dad was housed here for the long term, or at least until he could find something he liked better inside the Charming suburbs.

Once he’d caught you up, he made his start on lunch. You watched as he strolled throughout the kitchen, sitting patiently at the small round dining table.

“It’s a nice place, Dad. Not sure how I feel that you’re out here all alone though.”

“I’m barely here, kiddo. Spend most of my time down the Clubhouse.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he continued to make sandwiches, dropping a piece of turkey in the process. “I can’t wait for you to meet the guys, y/n. A lot more warm than the ones up in Denver. Some of them are your age too.” He placed the plate in front of you, and you grimaced at the site. Your Dad had never claimed to be a great chef.

“Thanks.” You smiled at him politely, taking a bite and struggling to swallow down the piece of dry sandwich. “I’m sure they’re great, Dad.”

“So, how’s your mom?”

You shrugged dismissively, unsure how to broach the uncomfortable topic of the newly weds. “She’s doing well. Mike is good to her.”

He nodded. “That’s good. I’m really glad she’s happy.”

It was hard to see your Dad try to be okay with the fact that your mom had moved on. The awkward silence was interrupted by his chair scraping against the floor as he stood up from the table. “Finish lunch and we can head on out. The guys are getting together at the Clubhouse tonight, you can meet them all there.”

You knew an evening with a bunch of Californian bikers was going to be inevitable during your trip. At least you could get it over with on the first night.

“Sounds great, Dad.”

—

You weren’t thrilled to be back in the confines of your car so soon after your long road trip, but your Dad knew better than to ask you to sit on the back of his motorcycle.

You rolled the windows down of your car as you followed his bike through the winding road from the cabin. As you re-entered Charming, you passed by locally run stores and cafes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was a quiet, peaceful town. But you did know better. You knew what the Club’s presence actually meant for a small community like Charming. If SAMCRO was anything similar to the Denver Charter, the underworkings of this town would be anything but quiet and peaceful.

You pulled into the lot of Teller-Morrow Automotive Repairs, instantly drawn to the huge row of Harley motorcycles lined up on the inner bays.

Your Dad parked up and met you outside your car, telling you all about his new job in the garage as you walked together. He led you across the lot towards a small black door, entering into the SAMCRO clubhouse. It was impressive, a comfortable space with its own bar and lounge area. The place was full of MC memorabilia and pictures from the club’s long history. The furthest wall was centered by two large double doors that were surrounded by mugshots of the SAMCRO members. You had visited the Denver Clubhouse enough to know that room was where the decisions were made.

Your Dad introduced you one by one to several members that were there, a few of which he’d mentioned to you that afternoon. Bobby, Chibs, Trager, Juice and Opie all greeted you with open arms. They were extremely friendly and welcoming, just as your father had promised. The one your Dad called Trager seemed very pleased with your arrival, hugging you for a little too long. Your Dad managed to break the long embrace, pulling you away to start touring you around the building.

“Don’t get too close to that one, kiddo. He’s a little out there.”

You giggled as you nodded in agreement, “I’ll keep my distance.”

—

You sat alongside the club’s Secretary, Bobby, on a leather bench that faced out with a view of the entire room. You observed as the Clubhouse filled with more members and women, a handful of which were old ladies. The rest of them, very clearly single. Of all the members you’d met so far, Bobby had been the easiest to talk to. He clued you in on some of the Club’s legitimate businesses, Cara Cara and Red Woody Productions. You figured that’s where most of the girls came from, retired and current porn stars.

It was a little strange, and anyone else may have felt uneasy seeing their father in this kind of environment. But you were used to the life of girls and guns from growing up with a dad in a motorcycle club. The Denver Charter had its fair share of women in and out of their doors, but mainly just bartenders and the odd crow eater looking for a way in. These girls were more forward, scantily clothed, makeup on point, and obviously comfortable with their surroundings.

Bobby nudged your shoulder, regaining your attention from the party happening around you. “You know your Dad talks about you constantly. He’s so happy that you’re here, kid. We all are.”

You glanced over at your father, a huge smile forming as he collected a drink from the bar.

“He does seem happy. Just weird seeing him away from home.”

“You got a home here with us too now, y/n.” He placed his arm over you and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, “we’re your family as much as we are his.”

“That’s really sweet, Bobby. Thanks.”

He pulled his arm back as he chuckled to himself, his large stomach bellowing as he laughed. “I am pretty sweet.”

Suddenly, the front door opened and a roar of drunken welcomes filled the clubhouse as two more members entered. The President of SAMCRO, Clay Morrow, walked in smiling ear to ear, hands held up as though he was a celebrity greeting his adoring fans. You’d heard a lot about Clay from your father, mainly that he was the initial sponsor for his transfer from Denver, and some remarks about what an ass he was. Behind him, a much younger member followed, embracing Opie as he entered. He was different from the other members, not totally clean cut, but you could at least tell he had showered. Not only was he bathed, he wasn’t harsh on the eyes either. You watched as he talked with Opie, his hands pushing his long blonde hair behind his ears as he spoke.

“Who’s that?” You asked Bobby, your eyes never feigning from the man.

“That’s Jax. Club’s VP.”

As you watched him converse with Opie, he suddenly glanced your way, locking eyes with you. You quickly turned away from him and back towards Bobby.

“He looks a little young to be Vice President”, you mumbled as you took a swig from your beer, still conscious that he was looking at you.

Bobby laughed, “Yeah, well, he’s a Teller. His Dad was First 9 alongside Clay and Piney Winston, Ope’s pops. Jax has been SAMCRO since he came out of the womb.”

You raised your eyebrows, glancing back over your shoulder. Jax’s attention had now been obtained by one of the Cara Cara girls. She was pulling him in by his cutte, batting her eyelashes at him as she leaned against the bar.

Bobby watched as you observed Jax. He sipped his drink, amused by your interest. “He’s known for his way with the ladies.”

You wanted to press Bobby further, but your Dad suddenly was stumbling over beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Come on over here, kid. I want you to meet my sponsor.”

“The asshole?”, you whispered to him as you stood up from the chair.

He snickered back at you, patting you on the back. “He’s having a good day.”

—

You were impressed by the brotherhood the Redwood Originals shared. It wasn’t unfamiliar to the Denver Charter, but the way the members of SAMCRO loved one another was palpable. You observed quietly throughout the night as they all ripped into each other with lighthearted banter and spilled beer all over the place. You were conflicted by the fact your Dad fit in so well here. It was painful to know he had chosen this life over one with you in Denver, but you still felt at peace knowing he had found a place in this family.

He was now slumped over a leather armchair in the lounge, snoozing after one too many beers. You nudged his shoulder, trying to wake him. “I’m gonna head back to the cabin, Dad. I’ll meet you here in the morning?”

“You sure, y/n?” He tried to stand up as he slurred, but his balance failed him, collapsing back into the seat. “I can lead you back-”

You chuckled, placing a hand on his head as he closed his eyes, “No way are you getting on a bike in this state. I remember the way.”

Tig overheard and slid himself beside you, placing an arm across your waist. “We’ll take care of him, sweetie. Don’t you worry. Get back safe, okay?”

You unwound from his grasp, collecting your bag from the coffee table as you searched through the contents for your keys. “Thanks Trager.”

A strange laugh left his throat as he watched you leave, before his face turned straight as a board. “Call me Tig.”

You said your goodbyes to the members that were sober enough to communicate, and made your way to the parking lot.

Jax Teller was sitting outside the clubhouse, journal and pencil in hand. He glanced up at the sound of the door opening, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

He smiled boldly, in a way that perplexed you. Almost like he was happy to see you, even though you’d never met. He took the cigarette from his lips as he asked, “you’re Ralph’s kid, right?”

“I usually just go by y/n.”

He placed his pencil inside the journal and tucked it snug in his cutte, standing from the bench. “It’s a nice thing you’re doing, coming all this way to see him.”

You nodded, “had to make sure my Dad wasn’t living with some crazed psychopaths, you know?”

He exhaled, his lips forming a perfect O as the smoke left his lips. “Pretty sure a few of those knuckleheads could pass for psychotic”, he teased. His mouth pulled into an infectious smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Jax walked closer towards you, your bodies now inches apart. He held out an open pack of cigarettes, prompting you to take one. You shook your head, declining the offer.

“And what about you? How’s your level of sanity?”

Jax hesitated. “A work in progress.”

You smiled politely as you walked past him, making your way to the car. “Anyway, I was just leaving. Was nice meeting you.”

Jax’s brow creased in concern, “you heading to the cabin on your own?”

You looked over your shoulder to see him pacing behind you, flicking his cigarette to the cement.

“My Dad’s not exactly in riding order.”

“I can take you back.”

You stopped outside your car and turned to him, scoffing at how forward he was. “I met you thirty seconds ago.”

“So?” He shrugged.

“I don’t really think that’s appropriate.”

“I’m not asking to get in bed with you, y/n. You can ride the Harley with me and I’ll leave the second you’re in the cabin.”

You opened the car door, sliding into the seat. “Not gonna happen.”

“I won’t lay a hand on ya, darlin’,” he raised his hand up, smiling, “scouts honor.”

You pressed your lips together, suppressing yourself from giggling at his innocent gesture. “I don’t ride bikes.” You affirmed.

Jax cocked his head at you, confused at the statement. “Denver girl’s scared of bikes?”

Your eyes rolled at his assumption. “No offense, but I just met you. I’m not sure my safety is your concern.” You shut the car door, realising your window had been left ajar from the way there. You wanted to curse aloud that the good Californian weather enabled the opportunity to ride with the windows down.

Jax didn’t push further, nodding his head as he watched you settle into the driver's seat. “No offense taken.”

Jax leaned his head into the open window, resting his arms on the roof of the car. You turned the ignition, letting the engine roar to life. “Nice to meet you, Jax.”

“You too, darlin’. Will I see you again?”

You were looking directly at him, your faces parted only by the frame of the window between you. “I’m here for the week, darlin’.”

His lips pulled from ear to ear, smiling playfully as you put the gear in reverse, forcing his hands off the car as you pulled out of the parking lot. You peaked in the rear-view mirror, finding Jax still watching you drive away into the Charming night.

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srjlvr · 1 year

Text

SEVEN ROYALTIES

,, once upon a time there was a commoner and a prince ’’ — lee heeseung

lee heeseung x fem!reader genre: strangers to lovers , commoner and a royal , fluff , angst ! warnings: loads of curse words. (please let me know if i missed something else!) | NOT FULLY PROOFREAD!!

WORD-COUNT ; 7.5k+

NOTE. finally we’re starting! i’m hoping to be able to finish the series as soon as possible for you all to be satisfied with all the works! please leave here feedbacks!! i love learning from others and i want to see if the work i put here really paid off!! hopefully you’ll be able to enjoy reading it!! there are a few hints of jay’s story, hope you’ll be able to notice them ;)

“morning y/n! be nice today” your co-worker put on a smile once you entered the restaurant. you rolled your eyes and faked a laugh, “very funny”

you swear you’re a nice person, a very kind one too actually—until someone gets on your nerves.

you come off as rude sometimes which is very unlikely to other people, you just cant seem to control your temper.

working as a waitress sounds like the perfect job to anyone—except you, and yet you found yourself working there and serving people.

not a day goes by without you having a fight with customers, “you’re on thin ice” your boss always says. he’s never that serious, he needs more workers anyway so firing one would be a trouble.

“good morning, what can i get for you?” you put on a smile and started to take orders.

“hey! waitress!” you heard someone calling, “i have a name” you cursed under your breath and went up to them.

“the food’s cold, can you warm it up or something?” she looked at you disgusted. you sighed and put on a fake smile this time, “sure”

after a few minutes the food was ready and you gave it back to her, “finally, what took you so long? how much time does it take to heat up food?”

“i apologize” you clenched your fists, trying to be the mature one and not get angry this time.

“yeah you better be”

you went back before you could burst on her.

“waitress!” she called you again, you walked lazily over to her and sighed, “i have a name” you pointed at your nametag.

“yeah, whatever” she rolled her eyes, “the food is still cold”

“there’s no way” you looked at her in disbelief, “i got burnt because the plate was too hot to hold, it was very much heated”

“yeah, not for me, get it heated again” she held the plate out for you to take and you did. “oh, and bring me more water”

that’s it. that was your last straw.

you took the water can and poured it all over her, “what the hell is your problem!” she shout in disbelief.

you rolled your eyes, “oh i’m sorry, i thought you’d like to get extra cold so you’ll feel the heated food better” you smiled, “if you weren’t a total bitch and actually took the time to eat instead of talking with your friend, maybe the food wouldn’t be so cold”

“how dare you! where’s your manager” she shout.

“he has a day off today, so i’m letting myself to be a bitch towards bitches like you” you smirked.

“i’ll come back” she said and ran out, “you won’t be missed until then!” you shout for her to hear.

you went outside on your break time and listened to some music.

“did you hear? the first crown prince will pay a visit in town in a few days!” you heard two people gossiping around, you looked over and saw two girls sitting in one of the tables and eating.

“i heard he’s just looking around to see the town he’s going to take over, you know they’re taking each another town! he’ll be taking control of this one!”

hybe kingdom decided to divide their towns equally to their seven sons—each one is getting a town of his own to control and rule. you learnt all of that from all the gossips around your work place.

“i heard he has to marry someone before getting the crown!”

“i wonder if he found someone to marry to! i’ll gladly volunteer if he’s yet to find his soulmate”

you rolled your eyes, who’s that prince anyway?

you hate the royal families, they always put on an act and come to “visit the town”, not even minding those who need help, they just keep walking around until they reach the end of the town as soon as possible.

your town is not so big, but not so small either—you can walk the whole town in up to four hours, if you do it nice and slow. it takes you about an hour if you’re the royal family.

everyone knows everyone, and gossip about everyone as well. the society is low and so is the economy, lots of stealing cases are happening, cheating and taking advantage of other people is really common in the town. you know that, you’ve been there.

a lot of people used your kindness against you, manipulated you and made you think you always have to take care of others before yourself. when you realized how bad you were treated, you shielded yourself from everyone.

you’re now known as the short-tempered girl who people shouldn’t mess with.

a lot of people actually like you, they know they shouldn’t mess with you so they’re actually being generous and kind, and it’s mutual.

you love the people in your town, except those who always get on your nerves. you can say you’re quite popular amongst the citizens and you actually have no problem with that.

the visit of the first crown prince you say? bring it on.

you flopped on your bed and thought about tomorrow. tomorrow is your free day and you thought about some things to do, such as going to the market or just having a little picnic with yourself.

you got so excited for tomorrow since it’s been a while since you had your free day—until you heard knocks on your door.

“sorry for the late hour, i need you to do a morning shift tomorrow” your manager showed up, “what?” you replied angrily, “no, tomorrow is my free day”

“y/n” he sighed, “we’re short on workers, i’ll pay you extra”

“and you came all the way here just to tell me that?” you scoffed and he nodded, “fine”

you live very close to the end of the town, your house is small, but it’s enough for you to feel warm and comfortable. since the town is small, it doesn’t take you a lot of time to arrive to the restaurant which takes place in the center of the town, but it’s still pretty much a long walk.

at six in the morning you opened the restaurant together with your boss.

“i heard the prince is coming to visit on one of these days” he said.

“as if i care” you rolled your eyes, “even if you don’t,” your boss pointed at you, “be careful and keep your temper around him if he happens to come in here”

“he won’t”

“you can’t be so sure”

“i can, after millions of visits of them in town, i’ve learnt that they have the same walking routine” you groaned.

“he’s different from his family”

“yeah, sure he is”

the rest of your shift went well, you were already getting ready to drop off as it was already time for your shift to end.

until the person from yesterday came, “hey! i see you’re still here” she said annoyingly.

“yeah, sadly” you sighed.

“get your manager here” she ordered you, “as long as you’re not a customer i don’t need to serve you, you have a mouth and walking legs so how about you call him?”

“y/n! don’t talk like that!” your manager interrupted and put his hand over your shoulder, “whatever, can you tell her to go away? her face is making me itch”

“y/n!” he shout, “i’m sorry ma’am for her behavior, is there something i can help you with?” he then bowed in front of the person.

“yeah! fire her!” she shout. “excuse me?”

“you heard me! fire her! she poured water on me yesterday and she’s just a waitress, she can’t do that to customers!” she pointed at you.

“y/n is that true?” your manager turned to look at you, “she was being a bitch and had to be taught, i’m not making the rules” you shrugged.

“enough! it’s your tenth complain already! and it’s only the start of the week!” he shout.

you rolled your eyes in annoyance, “so?”

“i’m sorry y/n, you’re fired” he sighed.

“what?” you gasped.

“you’re fired” he repeated.

“you said you’re short on workers—you know what? fine” you threw your uniform and took your bag, storming out of the store in anger.

you angrily looked at the ground and kept walking your way back home, until you bumped into something and fell.

“watch where you’re going!” you yelled at the person who just bumped into you, “my apologies madam, perhaps i can offer you some sweet cookies as an apology?” he smiled.

you got up and looked at him in disbelief.

you laughed at the nickname and the cute offer, “people don’t offer here cookies just because they want to apologize, are you new in town?”

he then shook his head, “you keep your things to yourself if you don’t want people to keep asking you for favors”

you ran before the person could even reply, “didn’t she realize who is she talking to?”

when you arrived back home, you flopped on your bed and groaned. “his face looked familiar though” you said and then chuckled, “offering a cookie? am i a child?”

“i must admit that it was cute of him”

you then looked outside your window, your window is facing the hybe castle that stood far away from your house, but you could still see the outstanding building. living in a place like this must be so fun and relaxing.

meanwhile, inside the castle there was pure chaos, “where’s heeseung?” jay asked.

“he told me he was just going to take a walk in the garden” jake shrugged.

“he’s nowhere to be found around the castle” sunghoon sighed.

“find him! search everywhere around, right now!” the queen ordered and the guards nodded, getting their swords and storming out.

“mom, you need to relax, he’s probably in the garden just playing hide and seek or something” ni-ki giggled.

“ni-ki, it’s not the time now” she replied worriedly and ni-ki nodded, “sorry”

“i’m sure he’s okay, you know heeseung hyung, he can deal with everything” jungwon said.

“why was she talking to me like that?” heeseung, who you just bumped into, was left dumbfounded and lost, full with questions.

“probably because i’m not showing my official clothes” he nodded to himself, “but my face” he then touched his face, “she didn’t recognize me at all?”

“yeah, he’s probably just fine” sunoo agreed with jungwon.

after a few minutes of talking to himself heeseung stared at the house in front of him, it was the one you entered.

it was quite far, but enough for him to see you storming off and entering the house.

he was staring at it for too long to notice the guards entered the town, “did you see prince heeseung around the town?” he heard someone asking a citizen.

that’s when it suddenly hit him—he ran away and now they’re searching for him.

quick heeseung, think!

he then looked at your house, “it won’t hurt to try” he let his leg lead the way.

you were about to get out and get some fresh air, maybe even search for a new job.

you opened your door and jumped when you saw someone standing outside, “stalker! stay outside! wait here i’ll get the police!” you shout.

“no no no wait!” he said, “please help me out!”

“what” you lowered your voice.

“can i please enter? i’ll tell you everything” he sighed.

“why should i trust you?”

“uhhh…because i’m heeseung?”

“who?”

“did you hear? heeseung…the first crown prince”

“oh, a prince” you chuckled, “and i’m queen elizabeth”

“no i’m being serious!” he argued, “look” he removed the big sweater he was wearing, and you could see the formal suit only royals can wear.

“get in” you ordered him.

“you shouldn’t be the one the to order me out” he got inside your house and sat on your sofa.

“and i shouldn’t be the one to help you out either” you rolled your eyes.

“you’re talking to a royal, you know that righ—“

“yes, exactly, a royal” you sighed, “i couldn’t care less about you”

“i can put you into jail for speaking like that”

“then do it” you crossed your arms and raised your brow.

“can i get you anything to drink?” you asked after not receiving a reply from him.

“water would be just fine”

you gave him a glass of water and sat across him on the sofa, “i knew you were familiar to me when i saw you”

“which by the way, you didn’t apologize about that” he remarked, “about what?” you asked him.

“i mean, you were the one to bump into me but you got angry and acted off rude”

“just had a rough day today” you shrugged.

“why are you talking to me like that?” he asked.

“like what?” you poured him some more water into his glass once you noticed it was empty.

“like i’m like every other person you know in town”

“because you are, aren’t you?” you asked back, “you’re no different, the only thing that does make you different is the title ‘prince’, and i don’t like princes”

“yeah but—“ he got cut off with a few knocks on your door.

“wait a second!” you opened the door and was welcomed by two royal guards. “hello l/n y/n. we’ve been searching for prince heeseung, did you happen to see him?” they asked.

“no, not at all actually” you replied, “i stayed at my house all day alone”

“thank you” they bowed and you closed the door.

“what the fuck?” you asked. “what?” he replied innocently.

“didn’t think about telling me you basically ran away?” you looked at him angrily.

“i’m sorry about that” he sighed.

“go back now before it’s too late” you rolled your eyes and went back to your room. “close the door after you! i’m not one of your servants!” you added.

the poor boy sighed and carefully got out to go back to the castle.

“where have you been?” the queen was raging mad by the time he got inside the castle, “i got lost around, a nice citizen helped me out and i found my way back here” he found the perfect excuse.

“don’t do that again without informing anyone that you’re going out! we’ve been worried sick!” the king sighed, “i apologize father, mother” heeseung bowed and they let him go back to his room.

“i’m not one of your servants” he mimicked you and giggled, “she’s cute”

“bro!” jungwon entered his room, “where have you been? mom and dad went feral, you should’ve seen them” he laughed.

“i’ve been out in town” heeseung replied shortly.

“anything interesting happened?” he asked.

“i met someone”

“ohhh, someone someone?” jungwon teased.

“i think her name was l/n y/n, from what i’ve heard from the guards”

“you’re not sure what her name is?”

heeseung shrugged, “but i know where she lives”

“that’s just creepy”

“it wasn’t like that” heeseung sighed, “i ran away from the guards and asked for help from her”

“she was pretty rude mostly” he added.

“she knew who she was talking to?” heeseung nodded.

“cant you just put her into jail?” jay suddenly joined the conversation. “we don’t do those things anymore jay”

jay only shrugged, “just ignore her from now on then”

“she’s quite interesting though”

“don’t tell me—“ “i’ll probably meet her again”

“it’s hopeless at this point”

“shouldn’t you be focused on your future wife? your wedding is soon” heeseung asked jay.

jay rolled his eyes, he’s clearly had enough of these conversations, “i don’t care, i just want the throne”

“it’s a bad way of thinking, who knows? you might fall in love with her”

“don’t worry, that won’t happen”

“i’ll be going out to the town mother” heeseung bowed in front of the queen, “take two guards with you” she ordered and he nodded.

“get back early today!” she added and heeseung waved.

while walking around the town heeseung actually took his time to greet the citizens and ask them how’s their condition and if they need any help.

he even sat in one of the restaurants in the center of the town.

“this is ridiculous! first you fire me and then you’re not giving me my money? what kind of a cruel monster are you?” he heard someone shouting.

“y/n relax, the prince is here be quiet”

that’s it, it’s you again.

“i could care less about the prince! give me my money” she argued.

“you don’t deserve that money! i’ve lost tons of money because of you so now you won’t get any”

“i can go to the prince and make a complaint, he’s here anyway, isn’t he?”

your manager giggled and heeseung frowned, “you know your complaint won’t get to anyone right? you already know the royals don’t care about us!”

“enough!” heeseung couldn’t take it anymore, he stood up from his chair and walked up to you.

“i’m trying to eat here peacefully” he sighed.

“no one stopped you from doing that” you shrugged.

“you did” he pointed at you and you rolled your eyes.

“tell him to bring me back the money i deserve and i’ll leave”

“you deserve no money—your majesty, she’s been making a mess ever since she started working here, a lot of people left and i’ve lost a large amount of money—“

“bring her back her money” heeseung glared at your ex-manager.

“w-what?” “did i stutter? bring her back her money”

your ex-manager looked at you and you smirked, he then went to grab your money and you glanced at the prince.

“i could’ve done that myself” you scoffed.

“you,” he pointed at you again, “you’re coming with me”

right after you got the money he dragged you outside with his two guards behind.

“let me go!” you tried to let go of his hand that was holding yours tightly.

when you realized it was no use, you stared at your hands together and blushed. “no y/n this can’t be happening” you whispered to yourself.

he stopped dragging you when you arrived in front of your house.

“what the hell is your problem?” you shout.

he sighed and put his hands on your shoulders, kneeling a bit, “you’re my problem”

“we barely even know each other, you’re a prince and you shouldn’t be bothered by a commoner” you rolled your eyes

“right, i’m a prince” he nodded, “so why don’t you treat me like one?”

“treat you like what? do you want me to bow and clean your shoes everytime i see you?”

“a curtsy would be fine”

“you’ve got to be kidding me”

“i’m not” he hissed.

“a commoner like me shouldn’t be a bother to you, just ignore me and move on with your exploration of the town” you scoffed, “as if you care about the town”

“come work for me in the castle” the guards that stood behind him gasped and so are the rest of the citizens who gathered around.

you laughed at his face, “yeah, funny”

“i’m serious”

you shared an eye contact and you could see his eyes softening.

“over my dead body” you let go of his grip and entered your house.

everyone around was so shocked about what just happened. a commoner and a prince? how dare you talk to a royal blood like that?

later that day, you went to search for a new job in town. you found one right next to your house, it was a small cafe with such a nice aroma.

the owner is the only one who’s working there, and was pretty glad that you’re searching a new job, “we need people like you y/n” she said.

“short tempered who are not afraid to fight for what’s right for them” you know the owner already, she helped you a lot as you grew up.

with your parents mostly being out of town, she took you under her wing and raised you well. she’s more like a mom figure to you than your own mom.

“i promise i’ll do my best and get the best achievements” you smiled and she nodded.

she taught you all about what you had to know and you started working right away.

it was the relaxation you needed the most. since the cafe is small, not a lot of people come by, and those who do come are usually so kind and generous towards you.

that night, heeseung stared outside of his window and noticed a small house, “it looks so warm and comfortable” he whispered.

it was your house he was staring at, it was far but not too far away from the castle.

he went to his bed, lying with his face facing up the ceiling. “she’s interesting” he thought, “why did i even suggest her to work here?”

“when would she stop acting so rude?” he scoffed, “is she always like that?”

it was 1 AM already and his millions of unanswered questions kept him up until then. he grabbed his big sweater and slowly yet surely got out of the castle, he couldn’t bare staying in his suffocating room anyway.

before he noticed it, his legs led him in front of your house. when he realized where he was, he got flustered and froze, that was until your door suddenly opened.

you jumped in place and pushed down the person who was standing outside your door right away.

“who are you?” you shout at the person who just fell. “it’s me, heeseung” he coughed.

your eyes widened and you held your hand out to help him get up, “i’m sorry!”

“oh so you do apologize sometimes” he groaned.

“don’t get on my nerves hee”

“what did you just call me?” he asked surprised.

“i called you hee, heeseung is too long for me”

“what about ‘your majesty’? or, ‘your highness’? not so hard”

you laughed, “no”

“why are you standing outside of my door at 1 AM?”

“why were you about to leave your house at 1 AM?”

“i couldn’t sleep” you both answered at the same time.

“you know i sometimes forget you’re a prince” you sighed.

“am i supposed to be different? you said the only thing that keeps me different is my title”

you shook your head, “you’re not what i expected to see when i heard the first crown prince is going to visit this town”

you opened wide your door for him to get him, and poured him a glass of water as he sat down on your sofa. “what did you expect to see then?”

“i don’t know—a rude, ignorant, snobish and cruel prince? i can keep on going” you shrugged.

“why do you hate the royal family so much?” he whispered.

“i can list you my problems with the royal family but it’ll never end,” you rolled your eyes, “but one of the things is that all of you are so ignorant and careless, it’s quite embarrassing of you”

“ignorant and careless?”

“look, this town is so small that you can walk from one corner to the other in like four hours if you’re actually taking your time to explore,” you breathed, “whenever you come to visit you’re barely here for an hour”

“you don’t care about how low the economy is here, some people are suffering and can barely survive till the end of the month”

“i’m sorry” heeseung’s eyes softened as he noticed a few tears starting to form in your eyes, “as if sorry can change anything” you wiped away your tears and poured him another glass of water.

heeseung took the time to observe your face, it looks like every part of you was touched by god’s hands. god you were so beautiful he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“are you okay?” you waved your hand in front of him. he blinked a few times and nodded, “i was just thinking about something”

“i think you should go back, before they realize you ran away again” you chuckled.

“and please don’t scare me like that again, i could’ve killed you so easily” you added.

he gave you a wide smile as he got up from the sofa, “thank you, y/n” he suddenly said, “i’ll do my best to help this town, and you”

you could swear your heart skipped a beat when you heard his last words, you shook it off quickly, then smacked him and pushed him outside of your door, “i don’t need help,” you rolled your eyes, “goodnight hee”

“goodnight” he replied and ran back to the castle.

you closed the door after he was nowhere in sight and dragged your back down against the door, “relax y/n, he won’t come back anymore”

you tried to relax yourself, you felt like you were holding your breath as long as he was close to you. it has never happened to you before and it scared you.

“there’s no way you’re catching feelings for the spoiled prince” you rolled your eyes and went back to your bed after a while.

“well well well” as soon as heeseung entered his room he was welcomed by the triple brothers, jay, jake and sunghoon.

“and where have you been in this late hour?” jake asked.

“i went out for a walk” heeseung whispered.

“wrong, we followed you outside” jay remarked.

“what have you thought to yourself?” sunghoon asked, “getting inside a commoner’s house?”

heeseung looked down, he didn’t know what to say or do.

“you know you can’t marry a commoner” jay shook his head.

“why not?” he suddenly asked. they all looked at him in shock, “are you seriously considering marrying her?”

“what if i am?” he rolled his eyes, “it’s not like you’d understand anyway”

“heeseung, you know it’s wrong” jake said and the rest nodded, “mom and dad are not going to approve your relationship with her” sunghoon added.

“worry about yourselves instead of me” he said and shoo them out of his room.

after closing his door he flopped on his bed, “what have you done to me, l/n y/n?”

“good morning y/n!” the owner of the cafe smiled widely at you, “i’ll be taking my leave early today, you’re in charge of the cafe”

you nodded and put on your apron, “have fun on your free day” you winked and she giggled, “you know me so well y/n”

“good morning” you heard a familiar voice calling.

“what are you doing here lee heeseung?” your eyes darted over the two guards that stood behind him.

“just visiting the town” he shrugged.

he lied. heeseung asked the guards some questions about you and one of them was about your work place.

“she used to work as a waitress in a restaurant, now she’s working in a cafe nearby her house” the guards said and heeseung nodded, “are you thirsty for coffee? we’re going to get some”

“what can i get for you?” you asked as it was a part of your job. “your favorite” he winked and sat at one of the tables.

you rolled your eyes and made him your least favorite drink, “enjoy” you served him his drink and your hands brushed with his. he quickly coughed and thanked you.

“your majesty, we need to go back to the castle, the queen’s orders” one of the guards remarked.

“just a few more minutes” he replied.

“we’ve been here for a few hours and all you do is drink that drink and stare at the girl” the other one said.

“a few more minutes” heeseung repeat and they sighed, they’re definitely going to get fired because of him.

he was busy staring at you while you were busy working. you didn’t fail to feel his fierce eyes staring at you—and he didn’t fail to notice your blushing cheeks.

you tried to focus on work, you really did. but how could you when the first crown prince was staring at you the whole time?

you finally breathed out when he left the cafe, a slight disappointment passed through your mind but you shrugged it off quickly.

that night you failed to fall asleep. turning right to left and then left to right on your bed.

lee heeseung. the first crown prince was driving you crazy.

“lee heeseung what have you done to m—“ you got cut off by a few knocks on your door.

you looked at the clock and saw it was already 1 AM.

“who could that be?” you opened the door and was welcomed by heeseung’s presence on the other side of the door.

he cleared his throat and waved, “hey”

“hey back” you raised your brow and opened the door for him to get in.

“what are you doing here again?” you asked.

“i couldn’t sleep” he groaned.

that’s it. that is his lame excuse to see you. he could go wherever he wants but he still chose to walk all the way to your house at 1 AM, all because he can’t sleep stop thinking about you.

you poured him a glass of water as he sat on your sofa.

“do you want me to read you a story before bed?” you rolled your eyes and he shook his head, “telling me about yourself is my kind of stories before bed”

you slightly pushed him out of embarrassment, “my life is boring, there’s nothing so interesting about me to know”

“what made you so short tempered and annoying?”

“human beings” you shrugged, “when people use you for your kindness, you want to protect yourself in a way, my way was to shield myself from everyone and i slowly forgot how to control my temper when i got pissed off at someone who got on my nerves”

“i don’t think i’ve done anything that got on your nerves but you still act so rudely towards me” he pointed out.

“that’s because—you’re a royal blood” you sighed, “you already know why i don’t like your kind”

he chuckled, “my kind?”

“you know what i mean!”

the rest of the night happened to be more interesting than you thought it would be.

you figured heeseung is more than just a spoiled prince who cares about himself only.

he told you stories about his childhood and how he was raised as a prince, and you told him about your favorite stories from your childhood.

you got closer by the end of the night, thinking about the fact that he might show up tomorrow suddenly excited you.

“i have to leave now before someone realizes i’ve been gone for the whole night” he giggled and you nodded.

both of you didn’t want the night to end.

“goodnight hee” a disappointment was hinted in your voice, “goodnight y/n” he replied sadly and left.

ever since that night, heeseung came from time to time around these hours and you always welcomed him with a glass of water and new enchanting stories to tell him.

you realized heeseung is the one you’ve been searching for a long time. someone who didn’t care about your rude behavior and couldn’t care less about your short temper. he embraced you and made you feel warm and comfortable around him.

heeseung found himself thinking about you all day, everyday. he wanted you, he fell in love with you. he figured that long time ago.

he felt like he could be himself around you, and not some prince people should be threatened by. you treated him like every other person and he couldn’t feel more lucky when he has you.

as much as you love his presence and him in general, you know it’s wrong.

the last time you saw him, you asked him not to come around anymore.

you were cuddled up with him on your sofa, you thought about it a lot and had to tell him how you felt, “hee,” you called.

he hummed while playing with your hair, “i don’t think you should show up here anymore” you gulped.

heeseung stopped playing with your hair and tilt his head, “what?”

“what you’re doing is basically sneaking out, people will start to notice sooner or later, it’s dangerous” you sighed.

“let’s just stay like that a few more minutes” he said, almost begging you not to let him go.

you agreed and hugged him tightly, scared that he’ll slip away from you.

you sat on your sofa and checked the clock. 1 AM—maybe he’ll come around today as well?

“no! he’s been here yesterday and i told him not to come! why would he do that?” a part of you really wanted to see him today, hug him tightly again and apologize for pushing him away from you.

you relaxed yourself and walked back to your bed, until you heard knocks on your door.

“who is it!” you shout behind the door.

“it’s me, open up!” you heard a soft voice calling.

you already knew who that was when opened the door, “you again?” you asked.

“i remember telling you not to come around anymore” you tried to act cold towards him. keeping yourself strong and making stupid excuses to yourself that it’ll hurt the both of you less than it hurts now.

“oh really? i thought you said to come over around these hours” he giggled.

how can you hold yourself back from someone like him?

you rolled your eyes and poured him a glass of water again as he entered the house.

“you know it’s wrong to do that,” you whispered, “so why are you coming here again and again?”

he then held your waist and pulled you closer to him, you could almost feel his lips on yours when he answers, “you’re interesting me y/n”

“i want you”

your cheeks started to heat up, you quickly shoved him away and coughed, “i’m a commoner and you’re a prince, it’s not going to work”

“but what if it will?” he said, “my parents are not so strict, i don’t think they’d care”

“maybe your parents won’t care, but the rest of the world would” you whispered.

“i don’t care about the rest of the world as long as i can be with you” he said.

“that’s too early for you to know that” you argued.

“and look how you made me feel about you in such a short time” it’s been two months ever since you started to meet up. for the both of you it felt like a week and no more than that.

“why me then?” you asked.

“you’re the first one to treat me like a normal person and not some kind of a threatening royal blood” he held your hands, “i feel so free around you”

you shook your head, “you’re risking your crown”

“i’m willing to do that ten times more if it means i can have you”

you stared at him and you two shared a long eye contact. his eyes were full with nothing but love, and yours were filled with hesitation and fear.

“let’s take it slow, i don’t want to rush things at all” he hugged you.

“i’ll come everyday around this hour, that’s a promise”

you slightly punched him, “i’ll kill you if you won’t”

he suddenly released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and smiled. it was definitely a confirmation that you’re willing to try it out with him.

“what made you change your mind?” he asked.

“just you” you replied, “apparently not all royal bloods are as bad as i think they are”

“yeah i don’t think you’ll think highly of my family” he shrugged, “i’m not a fond of them anyway”

you giggled and rolled your eyes, “shut up”

both you and heeseung made yourself a daily routine. the day starts with you working at the cafe and heeseung walking around his castle and trying to warm up his parents about marrying a commoner—and ends up with you and heeseung either cuddled up in your bed, or talk the night away from 1 AM until the last minute that he has to go back to the castle.

“mother” heeseung started to speak up in one of his lunchtime with his mother, “yes?” she asked.

“what do you think about me marrying a commoner?” he asked.

the queen laughed, “you? marrying a commoner?”

heeseung nodded, “will you approve my marriage if i happen to marry a commoner?”

“no,” she shook her head, “a royal blood needs to marry a royal blood”

“but,” he argued, “what if she’s the only one i love?”

heeseung was more than determined to change his mother’s way of thinking.

he has been spending months together with you every night, he falls in love with you all over again each time he sees you.

he was dead serious when he said he doesn’t care about losing his crown as long as he has you.

“you’ll learn to love other people, not a commoner” the queen argued back.

“not a chance” he cursed under his breath.

“i fell in love,” he finally confessed, “with a commoner”

the queen gasped, “for how long?”

“a few months now,” he nodded, “i’m willing to do anything in order to marry her”

“even if it means losing the crown” he added.

“a no is a no. and i’ll make sure you won’t be able to see her again” the queen shout.

“i’m giving up on my crown then!” he shout back and the room became quiet.

“what?” the queen asked surprised.

“i’ll give up on my crown, if it means i can have her” he repeat.

“very well,” the queen got up from her seat, “i’ll be taking that to your father”

that day he couldn’t rest, walking back and forth in his room out of stress. he wanted to run back to you, he wanted you to hold him tightly in your embrace, he wanted to hear that everything is okay from you—but he couldn’t.

not until he has a final answer to all the chaos.

it was around 5 PM when he was called to his parents bedroom.

the queen and king must’ve been talking about it for a few hours.

“heeseung,” the king called him, “yes father?” he whispered.

“i want to see the girl before i can decide” the kind nodded and heeseung felt relief.

in a few days, the youngest boy in the family will have his birthday party thrown in the castle.

“i’ll let you meet my siblings there” heeseung smiled as he played with your fingers, “since no adults are allowed” even though you and heeseung were already grown adults, the six brothers were invited to the celebration nonetheless.

you hummed, “what about your parents?”

“they wish to see you beforehand” he whispered.

“what?”

“for dinner, later today” he said, the clock already hit 4 AM which meant he already has to leave back to the castle.

“i’ll come pick you up” he said, “dinner, today, with my parents”

you tried not to freak out, but your boss already figured how stressed you are, “take a day off today honey” she pat your shoulder and you nodded.

you arrived home and went up to search for some neat clothes.

you heard a knock on the door and opened it, “hey” it was heeseung, the love of your life if you might say.

“hey” you let him in and he closed the door behind him.

“didn’t you bring any beautiful dresses or something?” you asked.

“why would i do that?” he tilt his head.

“so i would look formal in front of your parents dumbass!” you shout.

“y/n we really need to work on your temper,” he smiles, “my parents will throw us both outside of the castle if you act like that around them”

“i can’t control it” you rolled your eyes, “yes you can” he argued.

he then took your hands and plant a kiss on your forehead, “i’ll hold your hand the whole time, to help you relax”

you nodded and closed your eyes, leaning in his chest and hugging him, “i’m scared”

“nothing bad is going to happen, i promise you” he smiled, “and there’s nothing wrong with your clothes, you look so pretty in them”

“thank you” you whispered and hugged him even tighter than before.

you stood outside the dining hall and your hands started shaking, heeseung took your hand and held it tightly, his embrace was warm and comfortable, “relax, i’m here with you” he smiled and you nodded.

you opened the door and was welcomed by the queen, the king and the six other brothers which you thought will be introduced to you at the youngest brother’s birthday celebration.

“h-hello, your majesty” you curtsy in front of them.

“y/n, we’ve heard a lot about you from heeseung” the queen spoke first, “you look, elegant” the king added and you smiled.

“please, have a sit” heeseung guided you to the seat next to him and helped you sit down.

he held your hand again as he saw you trembling. you glanced at him and saw him smiling, moving his lips and assuring you everything is okay.

“tell us about yourself” the king smiled warmly.

“i work at a cafe near my house, i live close to the end of the town and close to the castle” you nodded, suddenly your whole life seem so short and boring, you realized you didn’t do much in your life.

“that’s nice” the queen smiled.

they were actually looking pretty kind and generous, not what you expected at all.

“how did he even manage to fall in love with someone like you?” one of the brothers suddenly asked.

“jay,” heeseung sighed, “please don’t do that”

“why not, heeseung? you fell in love with a commoner, she’s working in a small cafe and i bet she’s not even getting enough money for living, you broke the rule of not marrying a commoner, that’s messed up” jay argued.

“jay that’s enough!” the queen ordered.

“i don’t know if you’re married or not, nor have experienced love or not, but what i feel towards heeseung is different than any other emotion i’ve ever felt” you suddenly spoke, “i’m ready to give up on everything just for him, that’s how much i love him”

“i’m sorry it happened to be me” you whispered and looked down. heeseung clenched his jaw and sighed, a few tears fell from his eyes.

“commoner or not, i don’t care” he cleared his throat, “i love y/n, and y/n only. she is the one i’m willing to spend the rest of my life with, and i’m not going to let anyone get in our way”

“i approve your marriage” the queen said.

without even noticing, you made the queen and the king shed a few tears, “we know and we trust you that you’re going to take care of our child” the king wiped his tears.

“commoner or not,” the queen spoke, “you’re always welcomed in our family” she got up and hugged you.

you froze for a few seconds before hugging her back.

what kind of a weird royal family is that?

a few days passed and the rumor about the first crown prince marrying a commoner has already spread out. the whole world heard about the news and swoon around the new royal couple which was quite unexpected.

“you’ve made everyone believe in fairytales” the queen joked. “i’m very happy for you and my son” she added and held your hands.

“you made him realize what does it feel like to fall in love with someone” she smiles, “i can see the way he looks at you, he’s willing to die for you y/n. keep him close to you and take care of him for me and his father”

you nodded, “i will, mother. i love him more than anything else”

she then hugged you tightly, “we trust you”

the next day, you were getting ready for ni-ki’s birthday celebration when heeseung got inside your room.

“you look so beautiful y/n” he whispered and pecked your forehead. “you look even prettier, hee” you giggled.

“i just had a conversation with my mother, i don’t know what you did to her but she said she’s already planning our wedding” he chuckled.

“it’s just my charm i guess” you shrugged.

you and heeseung walked down to the ballroom, where the celebration was held, and were greeted by jay.

“i wanted to apologize” he said, “about our last conversation”

“that’s okay” you nodded.

“i also wanted to thank you, you made me realize that love is not something i can just give up on” he smiles, “thanks for saving my marriage”

you and heeseung chuckled, “i’m happy for you” heeseung said and hugged his brother.

“let’s raise a toast to the birthday boy!” everyone cheered for ni-ki and heeseung hugged you tightly.

“i can’t wait to marry you” he whispered in your ear and kissed your cheeks.

you turned to face him and wrapped your arms over his neck, “and i can’t wait to marry you too, my love” he leaned in to kiss you passionately and held you closer to you than ever.

“i love you” he mumbled after the kiss, “i love you too, hee”

TAG-LIST ; @jaeneohee @hsgwrld @enhastolemyheart @enhacatalog @kaykay11sworld @ipoststuffandyeah @beomsbeanie @queestionmark @ineedsomezzz @ikayyyyyy @nshmrarki

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world

#enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen heeseung #heeseung fluff #heeseung imagines #heeseung scenarios #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung x reader #heeseung headcanons #heeseung angst #enhypen angst

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almostgenerallyalways · 2 years

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mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader Category: angst / fluff / run-on sentences Word count: 3,1k CW: language, I’ve been to Texas once okay forgive me, divorce Author’s note: this was supposed to be a holiday fic but I got stuck on it and almost abandoned it, but here it is rescued from my drafts, shoutout to all the amazing tgm fic writers your writing truly astounds me

Summary: Every year around the holidays, you hear from your ex. This year when you don’t respond, he decides to show up at your door.

2022

Jake UT [November 23, 2022 at 10:24 PM]

Hey stranger

Visiting my mom for Thanksgiving

How’ve you been?

You ignore the message. How you’ve been in the last twelve months is not something you feel up to discussing with him.

You spend the next weeks dealing with crisis after crisis at work, leaning into the chaos like you have been all year. Your personal life? Garbage fire. Reconfiguring your entire pump setup two weeks before going to production, because the DoC slapped an import ban on one of your key suppliers in China? You’re on top of it.

But then, the week before Christmas, another message comes in:

Jake UT [December 17th, 2022 at 3:47 PM]

Hey

In town for the holidays

Would love to see you if you’re free

Brett welcome too, of course

A pang in your chest, but curiosity gets the better of you, so you text back:

Thanksgiving and Christmas? Judy must be thrilled.

You’ve met Jake’s mom all of one time, ten years ago, but she made a lasting impression. Fiercely protective of her only son, she’d been wary of you at first (you were, in order of importance: Too non-Texan, too vegetarian, and too focused on trying to rescue an almost-due group project for your sustainable water management class in which no one was pulling their weight).

And yet, over the Thanksgiving weekend you’d spent at Jake’s mother’s house in Colton, she’d slowly warmed up to you. You’d asked her endless questions about her job as a project manager at Austin-Bergstrom, and she’d poured you half glasses of wine (still exotic, to you, back then) at the kitchen island, shooing Jake back into the living room.

She’d even called you, after you guys broke up, to say she was sorry to hear it, and to tell you to call her up any time you needed someone to talk to. You’d tried your best to keep your voice even, not to break down in tears for the seventh time that day, and never called her again.

* * *

“Dude. Put your phone away for two minutes.”

Jake looks up apologetically at his friend, and pockets the device. “Sorry. Just expecting a text.”

Sandeep holds out his bottle of Lone Star, and Jake clinks it with his own. “It’s good to see you, man. Sorry I wasn’t around at Thanksgiving, we were visiting Jed’s family in NC. I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

Jake takes a swig of his beer, the cold liquid feeling like a balm to his throat. “Yeah, well. It’s been a big year, work-wise, so they owed me one. I wanted to spend some extra time with my mom.”

Bringing up his drink to toast again, Sandeep says: “Here’s to you, bud. And to getting that permanent assignment in California. At least we knew where to send our holiday card this year.”

Condensation drips down the neck of his bottle, and Jake spins it slowly in his hand, stopping himself from peeling off the label. He feels on edge, unmoored, despite this 6th Street dive bar being as familiar to him as the back of his own hand.

Sandeep’s got his number. “Seeing anyone else while you’re in town? I don’t know, Myers?”

Jake doesn’t look up, but feels his cheeks heat up fractionally.

His friend takes another swig of his beer. “I guess I should stop calling her Myers. You know, with the divorce and all.”

The bottle escapes Jake’s grip, and amber liquid sloshes across the table, into Sandeep’s lap. “Shit, Seresin! Grab some napkins, will you?”

* * *

2012

You’d always known there was an expiration date on this thing with Jake, which is why you’d been reluctant to meet his mom to begin with.

You wanted fundamentally different things. He, the Navy: Adventure, excitement, a chance to serve his country. You: Stability. A family. A place where you belonged.

Both of you: an opportunity to prove yourself.

It’s civil, as far as breakups go.

“You always knew I wanted to fly.” He says, over breakfast at Magnolia Café. There’s a hard set to his jaw that makes you soften in contrast, because of course you do, everyone who’s ever been near Jake Seresin for longer than ten minutes knows he’s always wanted to fly.

From your first date he told you about how Judy used to park him in her office at the airport when her summer childcare fell through; little Jake happily spending the day watching commercial jets taxiing and taking off in quick succession.

How her coworkers, the civilian engineers who’d stayed on after Bergstrom Air Force Base was decommissioned and commercialized, would regale him with stories about generations of F-4 Phantoms. Or the British Airways Concorde, one of only twenty of the ill-fated aircraft ever made, bringing the Queen to Austin in a little yellow hat. The Reconnaissance Air Meet bringing in the best fighter pilots from across all divisions of the military and abroad, to compete and show off their skills.

Jake would listen to them with stars in his eyes.

You pick at your migas, your appetite gone. “I know, Jake. I would never stop you.”

But you look at him, and you know your face mirrors his determination. “But I can’t come with you, Jake. I can’t start my career following you around from camp to base year to year. I’m forty-thousand dollars in debt getting this degree, and I need to follow my own plan.”

You haven’t moved in together, though Jake spends most of his nights at your tiny off-campus apartment, where you’ve made him countless cups of black coffee trying to fuel weekend study sessions. Where he would come in past midnight, back from the late shift at his part-time job at the H-E-B, and bury his face in your neck, waking you up even though you’d been asleep for hours. Where you would hold his sleeping head to your chest, his deep breathing somehow felt inside of you, and run your fingers up and down the bare skin of his back, trying to memorize him.

You’re twenty-two, you tell yourself. This is not the end of the world.

So you see him off at the front door, a box of his things clutched to his chest, and you force yourself to be strong. “You better be,” and you try to smile up at him, but you’re not sure you’re doing a convincing job, “You better be the best goddamn pilot the Navy has ever seen, Jake.”

For a second, he looks like he wants to say something, but then he just puts down the box, and pulls you into a last embrace. You sink into it, the fundamentally safe feeling of his arms around you, then make yourself pull away after a minute, pretending you don’t see the wet stains on his shirt.

Later you look at all the spaces in your apartment he is now conspicuously absent from (no dog-eared volume of Game of Thrones on the nightstand, no boots by the door), and it hits you then; the crevasse he’s left in your life. It may run deeper than you thought.

* * *

Jake had gone to Officer Candidate School in Rhode Island, then designator-specific training in Pensacola, Florida, and done his best not to think about you.

It helped that his days were intense and exhausting. It helped that, on liberty weekends, girls would flock to him and his friends in bars.

It helped to be several states away from you.

It helped to be living his dream.

* * *

There is a bit of a backslide, that first Thanksgiving after, where you both think it can’t hurt to see each other for one drink, for old time’s sake, which ends in him taking you up against the door in your new apartment, your legs wrapped around his waist because he does not have the willpower or presence of mind to figure out the way to your bedroom.

He knows it was a mistake, at about five AM the next day, when the blue light of morning starts streaming through a gap in the curtains, illuminating your tousled hair fanned out over the pillow, the steady rise and fall of your chest so familiar to him he could cry.

Untangling himself from you hurts, and he does perhaps the most cowardly thing he ever will: he sneaks out before you wake up. But next week he’s shipping out, and the thought of the same dead-end conversation over coffee made just the way he likes it is unbearable, so he makes himself walk away.

Somehow it’s worse, the second time around.

* * *

You’d met someone else, like he’d known you would. He sees the engagement announcement on Facebook, browsing on his phone between drills, and likes the post. It’s the third year he’s been away, and he’s at TOPGUN by then, so he has a lot on his mind. He has a girlfriend, even, a local: cute as a button, beats him savagely at pool.

It doesn’t fully hit him until the first time he sees you with your then-fiancé, at a little holiday reunion of college friends. He sees you with that ring on your finger, another man’s arm around your shoulders, and he gets an acute sense of the alternate reality that could’ve been his.

It feels a little like losing altitude too fast.

Your initial reception of him is understandably frosty, but you seem too genuinely happy to hold a grudge. By the third round, when he sidles up to you at the bar, you give him a quick hug, looking up at him with a smile that squeezes his heart: “I’m so proud of you, Jake.”

He nods, not quite trusting himself to speak, and pulls you back in, just for a moment, tucking your head under his chin. You smell like apple and magnolia, like nights spent with his nose pressed into your back.

You don’t invite him to the wedding, and he’s all too glad not to have to make up an excuse not to go.

* * *

Things settle, after that. Jake gets deployed and reassigned, breaks up with his girlfriend and eventually gets another. You get promoted to senior engineer, then project lead. You see each other, not every year but close enough, sometimes with your husband there, sometimes without.

He braces himself for the next Facebook post; that you’re pregnant, but it never comes. Over time, even that seems to lose some of its potential emotional impact on him.

Until three weeks ago, when you don’t text him back.

* * *

2022

You kick your shoes off in the entryway, then head into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Before you can reach the tap, the doorbell rings, and for a second you think somehow, some way, your terrible Bumble date has followed you home.

Grabbing the biggest kitchen knife you own off the magnet strip over the sink, just in case, you creep back to the door, barefoot, to press your face up to the peephole.

You don’t really expect to see the guy you just left, the ice in your glass not even melted before you were thinking up excuses to get out of there, but you sure as fuck don’t expect to see Jake either.

The door feels heavier than usual as you slowly slide it open, or maybe you’re just a little stunned. The night air hits your skin, and you can make out the sound of dogs barking in the distance.

For a long moment, Jake just looks at you, but then he says: “What were you planning on doing with that, sweetheart?”

You follow the jut of his chin down the line of your arm, and contemplate the knife for a second, Jake’s sudden appearance having made you forget all about it.

“I thought someone might have followed me here.”

“Ah.” He says, a spark in his eyes, clearly suppressing a smile. “If you were going to defend yourself in hand-to-hand combat, a knife is a terrible choice. I could give you some tips, though.”

Putting the damn thing down on your entryway console, you turn back to look at him. It’s not cold, exactly, in December in South Central Austin, but he looks underdressed: a long-sleeved light grey t-shirt, hands shoved in the pockets of a faded pair of jeans.

He looks good, you can’t deny it: he’s always had an immediate effect on you.

Jake, your somewhat gangly, sweet college boyfriend had it. Jake, ten years of military training later: older, filled out, fine crinkly lines starting to appear at the corners of his eyes (helped along by the California sun and God knows what far-off places), irrevocably still does.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “What are you doing here, Jake?”

At that, his expression sobers, and he looks at you for a long moment before he says:

“You didn’t tell me.”

* * *

Fucking Sandeep, you think, rubbing the back of your hand across your eyes, because that fucker has not been subtle with the hints lately, tutting like a Victorian matron while you pass the time evaluating your Bumble matches with his husband during Monday night football’s ad breaks.

The granite of your kitchen countertop feels reassuringly cool beneath your thighs, and you take a deep breath, keeping your eyes on the tile below:

“I wasn’t ready.”

Jake huffs, or so you assume by the little sound that escapes him, as you determinedly face only his sneakers: “It’s been a year. You sure told everyone else we know.”

That makes your head snap up, emotion rising in your chest in a way you don’t like, have always had to tamp down when it comes to him, these last ten years. “Fuck off, Jake. You know it’s different when it comes to you.”

He leans back against the fridge, arms folded, just slightly lifting his right eyebrow at you in that irritating way of his: “I could’ve been there for you.”

Fuck it, you think, all cards on the table then. “I was heartbroken, and embarrassed, and trying to figure out how to exist on my own again after being married for five years to someone who didn’t turn out to be who I thought he was, Jake. Sorry my first impulse wasn’t to come cry on my hometown hero ex-boyfriend’s shoulder.”

His eyes soften, and he pushes off the fridge to come stand next to you, running his fingers over the edge of the countertop. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice quieter than a moment ago. “I’m being a dick. It’s just, you have to know, I would’ve been there for you.”

He pauses for a second, takes a deep breath: “It’s always been different when it comes to you too, sweetheart.”

You start to shake, a little, or maybe it’s your imagination. But your voice wavers as you say his name, everything about your tone a warning: “Jake.”

He closes his eyes, shakes his head: “Our timing sucked, and I don’t regret our decision from back then. I’m proud of who I’ve become in the last ten years, and I’m proud of you. You think I don’t keep up with what you’re doing? The articles you’ve published?”

This stuns you, momentarily. “No, Jake Seresin. If I’m completely honest, I didn’t think you gave a shit about the latest advances in Texas drought management.”

Just being near him, the familiar smell of him bringing up memories you’ve had years to unsuccessfully repress, is overpowering.

He makes it worse by turning to you, face so goddamn heartbreakingly earnest as he says: “I couldn’t give you what you deserved, ten years ago, but I always told myself, if I was ever in a position to…” He swallows. “I tried to forget about it when you got married, I tried to root for you and Brett, I swear.”

His hand settles next to your thigh, not quite touching, and your hand comes down on its own accord to cover his. He straightens almost imperceptibly, uses his other palm to wipe a tear that’s made its way down your cheek.

Cupping your face, he draws a deep breath. “I have a permanent assignment now, in San Diego. I know it’s…”

“Jake.” You interrupt, squeezing your eyes shut, grabbing the hem of his shirt. “I’m not remotely the same person I was back then.”

He moves to stand in front of you now, and you draw him in between your thighs. Suddenly it seems imperative that you feel him, that he holds you.

Dipping his head to yours, you can hear the smile in his voice, watery, tentative: “Then let me get to know you again. Get to know me again.” He leans one hand on the counter, the other tracing your cheekbone. “No pressure. I’m totally very cool about this. Whatever you want.”

You laugh, a little choked up through tears, but genuine. It feels liberating. “What if I say yes? How does this work?”

His smile broadens, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he’s so goddamn close, nudging your nose with his. “Come visit me, for a start. I’ll show you the sights.”

You draw him in a little closer still, legs wrapping around his waist, one hand finding its way into his close-cropped hair, and you could cry for how familiar he still feels after all these years.

But when you close the gap between your lips and his, it’s like coming home and yet not at all: he’s different and rougher and sharper and it floods you with emotion, something big and terrifying and old and new.

He leans into the kiss, grinning, cards his fingers through your hair before he moves to cover your chin, your brow, the space next to your ear with kisses, and you remember this with a jolt to your heart – how singularly intense it is to be the focus of Jake Seresin, like the strength of the sun is aimed at you, how he never does anything by halves.

You take his chin in your hand, kiss him again for good measure, before saying, into the stubble of his jaw: “One visit. No pressure.”

The grin he gives you in return could power half this city: “One visit. No pressure.”

He dips his head to yours again, kissing the skin behind your ear as he tells you: “Southern California has a lot of drought problems, you know. I’ve actually been reading some really scary articles about it.”

i hope you enjoyed :):) - if you liked this I hope you’ll check out some of my other work:

where the wild things are (rooster x reader)

cross my heart (hangman x reader) masterlist

#tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun maverick fic #why am i like this i stg

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