#by protecting his friends and doing what he thinks is right

[sloaneispunk]

“too sweet for me”

frontman!in-ho x you

when in-ho developed feelings for you in the games, he realised how much older he was compared to you. but age is just a number…right?

๑⋅⋯ ──── ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ ──── ⋯⋅๑

after the first games, reality set in. you sat on your bed, trying to scrub the blood off your hands and face. you were practically clawing at your arms, but the blood wouldn’t come off. then, you were approached by a man. ‘player 001’ it said on the jacket.

“you’re hurting yourself like that.” the man said to you, kneeling down by your bed.

“i’m fine.” you gave him a weak smile as you stopped.

“come, let me help.” he took your hand, taking the sleeve of his jacket, gently rubbing the dry blood off of your arm as you watched.

“thank you.” you whispered.

“you’re welcome.” he looked up and smiled. “you have some here…” in-ho licked his thumb, hesitating as if he was asking for permission, when you nodded, he cleaned your cheek.

when he was done, you thanked him once more.

“what’s your name? you look awfully young.” he commented.

“y/n…” you said shyly, making his heart swell.

“i’m young-il, it was nice to meet you.” he said before he got up, but you grabbed his arm.

“wait, i uh, c-can you stay?”

in-ho looked down at you, why would you want him to stay?

“i shouldn’t, i-” then, he heard a group of rowdy boys on the other side of the room, the leader with purple hair picking on a weaker girl. “on second thought, i think i should.”

in-ho stayed with you until lights out, keeping an eye out for thanos’ group and making sure that you were safe from them.

how old were you? definitely much younger than he was, but you were so sweet, so innocent. he loved it.

the next day, in-ho hadn’t slept. he had been too caught up watching you sleep, admiring as every hair fell in place, your chest heaving with every breath you took. he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t approached you with a motive. he knew it was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from going to the bathroom when everyone was asleep to jerk himself off to the thought of you.

“y/n, come, have mine. you need to eat more.” in-ho said sternly, passing you his packet of milk as he ate his breakfast with you.

“why? you should have it.” you rejected him, tossing it back to him.

“you need it more than me.”

“i’m not a kid, young-il.” you rolled your eyes playfully at him causing him to chuckle.

you weren’t. so why did he have the urge to protect you?

then, he heard the voice of gi-hun, he turned around. there his real target was. in-ho brought you along as he made his way to the group, approaching them with a friendly smile.

easily, they welcomed you both with open arms, just like how in-ho knew they would.

“so why did you pick ‘o’?” jung-bae asked, mouth stuffed full.

“oh, i just need more money to pay off my debt…” in-ho started. “… i had a wife and kid but i lost them because of my gambling habits.”

the whole atmosphere of the group fell, everyone didn’t know what to say.

you somehow felt guilty. this man was old enough to be your dad, why were you attracted to him? besides he already has a family outside this place. your heart sank, making you look down at your food as the others continued to talk.

“what about you?” you heared in-ho ask, making your head shoot up. “i’m sure your parents must be worried, why do you want to keep playing?” he pointed to the ‘o’ on your jacket.

“it’s just me.” you replied solemnly, “i don’t really have anyone waiting for me.”

you could feel everyone’s eyes on you, staring into your soul as you immediately regretted revealing that part of yourself. you mentally slapped yourself, you were being too vulnerable too quickly.

“hey, it’s okay. when we get out of here, we’ll all continue being friends!” jung-bae nudged your arm, making you smile.

“yeah! we’ll all go eat a feast when we get out!” dae-ho agreed.

in-ho didn’t like that idea, and his face didn’t even try to hide it. he didn’t like that you would hang out with anyone other than him.

‘players please proceed to the next game’

you were terrified. after knowing the stakes at hand, you knew it was suicide continuing, but you didn’t have any other choice. in-ho noticed you stiffen, he gave your arm a squeeze, letting you know that he was still there.

when you reached the second game, you learnt that it was going to be played in groups of five. luckily for everyone, your team already had five members.

you took your seats in a line on the floor, awaiting instructions. in-ho sat in front of you, still ensuring that you were sat close to him as the game commenced.

the first two teams took their places at the start line, both eager to win the games. but it was harder than anyone had thought. eventually, neither was able to complete all stations in time. you watched as they were being taken out by the guards, shot down with no remorse.

you instinctively grabbed onto in-ho as you gasped at the gnarly sight in front of you. if you didn’t get your head in the game, that would be you soon enough.

“what are you thinking about?” in-ho questioned when you had failed to answer him, lost deep in your thoughts.

“i’m scared, young-il.”

“nothing will happen to you, i promise.” he replied, ruffling your hair. “stay strong for me.”

you nodded.

when it was your turn, you could feel your legs shaking with every step you took. in-ho was the first to link your arms with his, giving you a subtle smile to calm your nerves.

as the game started, the team made their way to the first station. dae-ho picked up the ddakji, throwing it once, hard onto the ground. by some miracle, the blue envelope had flipped and everyone cheered.

at the second game, jung-bae took the stone from the guard. you shifted closer to in-ho, giving him space to aim. in-ho took the opportunity, pulling you close against him, you were everything at that moment. he could feel the warmth radiating off you, your smell filling his nostrils, making his head dizzy. he barely noticed when everyone cheered once more ehen the stone had been easily knocked down.

then, it was your turn.

“breathe.” in-ho whispered in your ear when he noticed how shaky your hands were.

to his surprise, you had managed to pass within a single try. he cheered you on louder than anyone in the team, moving on the the next game.

even as he spun the spinning top, your arm never left his. maybe it was a good luck charm, because he too was able to spin it on his first try. part of his was relieved because he didn’t embarrass himself in front of you but another was disappointed. in-ho had planned this moment out for so long, he would fail multiple times to keep gi-hun on edge. it was funny how just by having you there he had screwed up his whole plan, he didn’t know whether to love or hate it.

naturally, gi-hun had also made it without having any redo’s. everyone was estatic as they were being led out of the game room, but in-ho was off.

then, he felt a small hand on his shoulder causing him to turn around only to be met with your face.

“are you okay?” you asked as you caught up with him. “we did it, why do you look so down?”

“just surprised i guess.” he said, trying to brush it off.

walking back into the room, you were approached by thanos and his team.

“you goons made it back, huh?” thanos jeered, arms crossed as he looked you up and down.

that didn’t go unnoticed by in-ho. he slapped the boy across the face, shocking him as he gasped dramatically.

“look at me when you’re talking to me.” in-ho spat.

“who are you? is this your boyfriend, girl? isn’t he a bit too old?” thanos laughed. but in-ho didn’t take it lightly, punching him, causing him to fall to the ground as his nose started to bleed.

“young-il, that’s enough.” you stopped him before he could take it further.

with one last look of disgust, in-ho walked off, leaving the boy on the floor.

in-ho might not have realised it but that comment took a toll on him. it made him realise how true his words really were. he was in his 50s and you were so much younger than him, it wasn’t right for him to feel how he felt towards you.

“young-il, what happened-”

“go away, y/n. i don’t even know why you care so much.” he raised his voice, pulling his arm away before you could touch him.

you were dumbfounded, taking a step back as your eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill.

did that come out too harsh? he hadn’t mean to snap at you, he was just so caught up in everything.

you simply nodded, heading back to the team as he stood there alone, regret overwhelming him as he cursed under his breath.

that night, he couldn’t sleep. how could he? he tossed and turned in his bed, trying to erase your pitiful face from his mind. eventually, he got up, walking towards your bed, but you were gone.

he started to panick, rushing towards the guards, pushing pass them to leave the room. as he practically ran pass the bathroom, he heard soft cries. shit.

he barged in, “y/n? are you here?” you didn’t reply.

he went to the only closed stall and gently knocked, making sure that he didn’t scare you. “y/n, open the door. it’s me.”

“go away.” he heard your muffled voice.

he really did mess up.

“honey, open the door, let me in.” he pleaded.

after a few moments, he heard a click. then, he saw you, sitting on the floor with tears running down your cheeks, your eyes and lips puffy from crying.

“oh, darling.” he cooed, kneeling down, just like how he did when you had first met. “why are you crying?”

you didn’t reply, only gazing up at him with sadness in your eyes. he didn’t need you to tell him what was wrong, he knew.

he sat down, pulling you close to him, letting you cry into his chest as he held you.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it.” he murmured into your hair. “please don’t cry.”

his heart broke all over again with every tear that fell. he had hurt the only person that didn’t deserve any pain in this place.

what was he going to do? he had never felt this kind of weakness before, he almost felt vulnerable with you. you needed him and he needed you too.

[harryslittlefreakk]

off limits

summary: planning your brother’s birthday turns into crossing a line with his best friend. everyone say thank you @bethiegurl19 for the request!!!

wordcount: 4.5k

warnings: angst, smut (foreplay, protected sex)

a/n: back with a bang baby!!!!!

masterlist 😋🌷🫧🍒 taglist

“You’re not bringing him.”

“You can’t dictate that.”

“Yes I can.”

“No, Harry, you can’t. It’s my house, my brother, and my-.” Your voice trailed off, not knowing what you could actually call Matt. Harry knew as well as you did that he wasn’t your boyfriend, he was the man who bothered with you when his other options were busy.

“Jake doesn’t even like him,” Harry muttered, his jaw flexing as he spoke.

“Neither of you will ever like who I date while you still see me as a kid,” you shot back, standing up too fast, feeling the wine rush to your head as you turned your back on Harry. It was the fourth night you’ve gotten together to try and plan your brother‘s birthday, the fourth night Harry had fought you about Matt.

“It’s not about that. He’s an arse and everyone sees it except you.”

You rested your elbows on the counter, rubbing at your temples. “It’s not your place to see it. But fine. I won’t invite him,” you sighed, hating that you were giving in to Harry.

“Good,” Harry all but growled, downing the rest of his wine in one sip.

“And I don’t still see you as a kid,” he added, walking over to you, his hand brushing your side as he reached for a new bottle of wine. His touch was light, barely even there, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, heat blossoming against your skin. You could feel his presence next to you, close enough that the scent of his cologne mixed with the dry oaky smell of the wine on his breath. He hesitated for the briefest second, his hand lingering near your side. But even if he had noticed the way you’d gone totally rigid, he didn’t say anything.

You moved away slightly, trying to focus on the wine splashing into the glasses in front of you, the walls of the glass stained pink from Harry’s sloppy pouring, ignoring the way your skin buzzed in the aftermath of his touch. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, your mood worse.

“You’re not even pouring it right,” you muttered, snapping at Harry before you could stop yourself.

His head turned, and you could feel his eyes on you as he straightened, the bottle still in his hand.

“Pouring it right?”, he laughed, that fucking smirk tugging at his lips. It boiled your blood.

You turned to lean your hip against the counter, grabbing the bottle from his grip.

Harry let out another low, frustrated laugh, raking a hand through his long curls as he turned towards you fully.

“Relax,” he said finally, pulling the bottle back slamming it back down on the counter. “You’ve been on my case all week. The decorations, the music – you fought me on every single thing. What, because I don’t like your little boyfriend?”

You froze as Harry stepped closer, his tense frame towering over you. His green eyes were locked on yours, sharp and darkened in his frustration.

“Tell me then. What the fuck are you even doing with a guy like Matt?” His voice was low and biting, but not teasing in the way you’d grown to expect.

Your jaw clenched, your throat dry as your hands reached behind you to grip onto the edge of the counter. “You don’t know him,” was all you managed to say.

“Yes I do, y/n. I went to school with him. Jake went to school with him. And I’ve seen enough of him to know he hasn’t changed at all,” Harry shot back, his voice rising.

“It’s none of your business! I’m old enough to make my own mistakes. I don’t need either of you to protect me anymore,” you shouted, glaring at Harry.

“You never needed our protection. But look at you! You’re trying to pick a fight because I don’t think your hook up should be at Jake’s party. Is he even worth it?”

Your stomach twisted at Harry’s words, heat flooding your cheeks. You knew what he was asking. He wanted to know if despite all of Matt’s other flaws, of which there were many, he was a good enough fuck for you to keep him around.

“It’s worth it just to piss you off,” you mumbled.

Harry ran a hand over his face, looking straight through you as he laughed. “You’ve wasted a year fucking him because it pisses me off?”

“I’m not discussing that with you.”

“Why not? Because you don’t want to admit that’s the entire reason you carried on seeing him? Or because you don’t want to admit that he isn’t even a good fuck?”

You opened your mouth to spit something back at Harry, but nothing came out. Harry clearly knew you better than you thought, and no matter how much you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t.

Your silence didn’t go unnoticed. That same irritating look of amusement was still on Harry’s face as he looked down at you.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his voice low, his eyes flickering to your lips where they lingered for just a second before snapping back to your eyes.

You hated him in that moment. For being right, for knowing you so well, for backing you into a corner you couldn’t see a way out of. But more than anything you hated how your body was reacting to him, the way his closeness made your heart race.

You wanted to punch him, to shove him out of your house and never see him again. But when your hand reached out towards Harry, it betrayed you, gripping at his t-shirt and pulling him closer rather than pushing him away.

It was all the confirmation he needed. His lips were on yours, rough and urgent, like he’d been holding himself back for weeks and finally couldn’t anymore. For a split second, you froze, your mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. But then his hands were on your waist, pulling you even closer.

You kissed him back without thinking, your hands clutching at the cotton of his t-shirt as if you needed to hold on to something to keep from falling. His body pressed against yours, his warmth searing into you, that big wall of muscle pushing against your front.

Harry groaned against your lips, his hands tightening on your waist as he backed you up against the counter. The edge of it pressed into your lower back, but you didn’t care. All you could care about was him - the way his lips moved against yours, the way his fingers dug into your skin, the way he tasted like wine and heat and something unmistakably Harry.

He stepped back, running a hand through his curls, his breathing uneven as his eyes darted between your face and the floor. His lips were red and swollen, and you couldn’t look at him without feeling like the world had tilted sideways. He stared at you, his eyes dark and wild, his hands still gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips twitched into a smirk, though his eyes were still dark and locked onto yours. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice rough. “Didn’t seem like you minded.”

“I should go,” he said quietly after a minute, his voice hoarse and full of something you couldn’t quite place.

Your chest tightened, but you nodded, your arms wrapping around yourself in a futile attempt to fill the sudden ache his words created. “Yeah,” you said softly, avoiding his eyes. “You should.”

For a moment, he hesitated, like he was waiting for you to stop him. But you didn’t. You just stood there, rooted in place as he turned toward the door. He didn’t look back as he left, and the soft click of the door shutting behind him felt deafening.

You let out a breath, leaning back against the counter as you tried to gather your thoughts. Your lips still tingled from his kiss, your skin still warm where his hands had held you, and you hated how empty the room felt without him. You hated that you even wanted him to stay and kiss you again.

The thought hit you like a wave, but you shook it off, forcing yourself to push away the longing that crept into your chest. He was gone, and it was already messy. It didn’t need to go deeper.

But when the knock at the door came, your heart leapt into your throat, and before you could even process what you were doing, you were pulling it open.

Harry stood there, his hand braced on the doorframe, his eyes dark as they met yours. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you like he was fighting an internal battle he’d already lost.

“I couldn’t go,” he said finally, his voice rough.

You didn’t respond, couldn’t respond, because he was stepping inside, kicking the door shut behind him as his hands found your waist. He pulled you to him, wrapping your legs around his hips as he pinned you against the wall, his lips finding yours with a desperate, hungry urgency that left you breathless.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered against your lips, his voice thick with frustration as his hands gripped your thighs. “You know that?”

“You’re the one who came back,” you shot back, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed you again, deeper this time.

“Yeah, because I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he growled, his lips trailing down your neck, sending a shiver racing through you. “Couldn’t stop thinking about how I’m right. Matt isn’t enough for you, is he?”

Your breath hitched, your nails scraping lightly against his scalp. “Don’t—”

You hated how easily he got under your skin, how his words hit far too close to the truth. “You’re so full of yourself,” you snapped, though your voice lacked conviction, trembling under the weight of his presence.

Harry smirked, his hands tightening on your hips as he carried you toward your bedroom, not breaking eye contact. “Maybe,” he admitted, his voice dripping with confidence. “But I’m not wrong, am I?”

You didn’t answer, refusing to give him the satisfaction. But the heat in your cheeks and the way you clung to him told him everything he needed to know.

By the time he reached your bedroom, your resolve was gone, replaced by a desperate ache in your core that only he could seem to satisfy. He laid you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours as his lips brushed against your ear.

“Let me show you how it’s supposed to feel,” he murmured, his voice rough but steady.

And as his lips found yours again, his green eyes locked onto yours for just a split second, looking at you in a way that showed you both permission and forgiveness.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Harry whispered, his words muffled against your mouth, the scent of the wine warm against your skin.

“I can handle it,” you replied, trying to convince yourself as much as him.

“Say you’ll tell me,” he repeated, firm and commanding.

“I’ll tell you,” you echoed, heat spreading through your body as he planted his hands either side of your head, caging you in.

The silver rings on his fingers caught the lone beam of moonlight streaming through the curtains, the chilled metal brushing against your skin as he moved closer still. Your gaze follow the lines of his tattoos, the dark ink curling up his forearm, disappearing under the pushed-up sleeve of his t-shirt.

Harry‘s mouth moved from yours to the curve of your neck, his lips brushing over your wild pulse with a deliberate slowness. His teeth grazed your skin, a contrast to the soft flex of his tongue as he kissed his way down, and you couldn’t stop the quiet whimper that slipped past your lips.

“Think you finally ran out of shit to say,“ he teased, his hand shifting to wrap your leg around his hip, his touch firm and possessive as he pressed himself against you.

The hardness of him against your inner thigh made your head spin, the friction of his jeans against the thin cotton of your leggings burning into you. You rolled your lower lip into your mouth, trying to suppress the moan threatening to escape as his hips rolled against yours, his cock pushing against you.

“These jeans,“ you whispered, your voice breathy as your hand slid between your bodies, tugging at their skin-tight waistband. “I hate them.”

“D’you really?” Harry asked, his voice laced with that same teasing amusement as he moved back off the bed. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure they’re driving you crazy right now.“

You glared up at him, your lips pulled into a reluctant smirk, waiting on your brain to form some sort of comeback. Instead, you pushed up onto your knees, grabbing at Harry‘s t-shirt until his lips crashed back onto yours in a kiss that was all teeth and heat and frustration.

Harry groaned into your mouth, the sound low and guttural as it echoed through you, his hands roaming over your body, sliding beneath your t-shirt. His touch left trails of fire and goosebumps in its wake, your back arching into him, your fingers curling into his hair.

“D’you want me to stop?“ he murmured against your lips.

“No,“ you breathed, your lips brushing against his before his mouth captured yours again. More insistent now, his fingers splayed across the curve of your waist. Your world was spinning with every touch, your every thought consumed by him – his taste, his scent, the way his lean frame press against yours like even an inch of empty space between you would be too much.

He let you part for just a second, just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, his eyes somehow darkening even further as they roamed the skin that had, until then, been off limits to him. His breath hitched, his fingers skimming along the soft lace of your bra. He took his time, like he wanted to memorise every inch of you.

“Even better than I imagined,” he murmured, his voice gravelly yet almost silent, as if he wasn’t saying that to you, but to himself.

Your eyebrows quirked in questioning as his eyes snapped back to yours, something dangerous in the depths of darkened greens. “More than I should’ve,” he confessed, leaning down to press his lips to the sharp angle of your collarbone. “Much more.“

His confession sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your fingers finding their way back to his hair, tugging him closer as his mouth continued down your body.

When his fingers slipped into the waistband of your leggings, he paused, pushing you softly back down onto the bed, his eyes boring into you. “I need to hear you say you want this,“ he said, pushing his free hand through his curls.

“I want this,” you breathed without hesitation. “I want you.”

That was the final confirmation he needed, his hands never leaving your skin as he stripped away the barriers between you, first the remainder of your clothes, and then his.

When he finally pulled his shirt off, you let your eyes wander over his body, drinking in the sharp lines of his torso, the way his tattoos rose and fell with his breathing. You kept your gaze on his body as he kicked off those damn jeans and his underwear, Letting yourself appreciate the soft smack of his cock against his flesh as he freed it, something your teenage self was sure to thank you for.

You felt your eyes wide and slightly as you registered his size, your breath catching in your throat.

But Harry only smirked, leaning down to kiss you again, slower this time, his hand sliding under you to cut the back of your neck as his body settled over yours. His weight, his heat, the feel of his skin against yours – it was overwhelming.

“I told you he wasn’t enough for you.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him once again that he was arrogant, but his hand slid between your thighs, and the words died on your tongue.

You let out a strangled gasp of his name, your head falling back into the pillows as the part of his thumb worked at your clit.

“Say it,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your jaw. “Say I’m better for you than he is.”

You wanted to fight him, to deny him and take him down a notch, but all you could do was whimper against his skin, your body arching into his touch as heat pooled in your core.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his lips trailing across all the skin they could reach, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

The roughness of his hands contrasted with the gentle touch of his movements, intoxicating and addictive as his hips ground against yours.

“You’re already so worked up for me,” he muttered, his voice almost a growl as he pushed two fingers into you. “All this time, y’just needed to be fucked right.”

“Shut up,” you managed to bite back, losing the edge to your voice as his fingers flexed against your sweet spot.

Harry chuckled, a deep, throaty laugh that sent shivers down your spine. “That’s why you get so riled up. Because every time I fight you about Matt, you’re thinking about this.”

You tried to glare at him, but the way his fingers fucked into you made it impossible to do anything but push your hips against his touch, your cheek turning to him as his lips grazed your ear.

“What do you think about, hmm? Me touching you like this?” he continued, taking your silence as confirmation.

“Harry,” you groaned, gathering a fistful of his hair as his hand stilled, his thumb pressed to your nerves.

“C’mon, kitten. Tell me,” he pressed, a commanding edge to his words that only deepened the ache in your core.

“What you’d feel like, how you’d sound. How you’d fuck m-“

You didn’t get to finish, Harry’s lips were on yours again, swallowing the rest of your words in a kiss so deep and consuming that it felt like he was pulling the life from your body. He pushed a third finger into you, his rings stone-cold against your folds, the silence punctured by breathy gasps and your wetness pushing in and out of you with his every movement.

Your breathing quickened, each stroke of Harry’s fingers building the pressure in your core. He worked at you expertly, his thumb circling your clit in a rhythm that had your skin overheating, your toes starting to curl, your hips bucking into his palm.

His name spilled from your lips like a mantra as your body tensed. Harry kept his eyes locked on you, his brows furrowed as he watched you unravel beneath him.

“Let go, love,” he murmured, his voice thick and coaxing, his fingers curling just right to hit the sweet spot that had you seeing stars.

He didn’t need to tell you twice. The tension that had built inside you snapped, a fresh wave of ecstasy crashing over you with such power that you couldn’t hold back from crying out. Your muscles tightened around his fingers as hot, pulsing waves of pleasure worked their way over your skin, leaving sharp tingles in their wake.

Harry didn’t let up, drawing out your high with slow, deliberate movements, his thumb back to pressing firmly at your clit as his fingers worked you through it.

When you finally went limp beneath him, your chest heaving, he slowly withdrew his hand, the sudden lack of touch drawing out a needy whine from your throat.

You watched through blurry eyes as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste you. A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips, an appreciative groan echoing from his throat.

You let out a shaky breath, your head spinning, your world now entirely tilted on its axis. But Harry didn’t give you much time to recover. He leaned back down, his lips brushing yours, letting you taste your sweetness on his tongue as his hand cupped your cheek.

“Not done with you yet,” he promised, his voice muffled against your lips.

“Then don’t stop,” you whispered, your mouth quirking into a smile, heart racing as he fished through his pockets for a condom.

“I’ve been patient with you,” he said, tearing the foil wrapper with his teeth as he knelt between your legs. “Not anymore.”

You swallowed hard as he rolled the condom over his cock, his length hard and heavy in his hand.

“I can handle you,” you retorted, heat flooding through you.

Harry let out a low chuckle, his nose brushing against yours as he lined himself up, his tip just barely pressing against your entrance. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

He pushed into you slowly, his hips rolling forward inch by inch. The stretch had you gasping, your hands flying to his shoulders. Harry groaned, the sound raw and guttural, his forehead falling to yours as he stilled, letting you adjust to him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice strained. “Feel so good, princess.”

Your fingernails dug into his skin as your body arched into his, trying to adjust to the overwhelming fullness of him. “Move,” you whimpered, desperate for him to do something to help ease the ache building inside you.

Harry obeyed, his hips rolling back before snapping forward again, and again, the force of his thrusts sending a jolt of pleasure through you. He moved deliberately, his pace slow and calculated, his free hand grabbing needily at the flesh of your hip.

“Look at you,” he groaned, full of awe as he watched the way your body responded to him. “Taking me so well. You were made for this.”

Your head rolled back on the pillow, your nails raking down Harry’s back as he drove into you, his pace unrelenting. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your breathless moans and Harry’s gravelly groans as he buried himself in you over and over again.

Every thrust brought you closer to the brink, the coil in your stomach tightening with every snap of his hips. Harry seemed to sense it, his hand sliding underneath his body, finding your clit and circling the nerves with practiced precision.

“You gonna come for me?” he asked, his teeth grazing the skin at your jaw. “Gonna let me feel you fall apart?”

Your entire body trembled as Harry’s words broke through the fog in your mind, his deep, commanding tone sending shockwaves through you. His fingers on your clit matched the rhythm of his thrusts, each movement calculated to push you further into a haze of pleasure.

“Please,” you whimpered, your hands clutching desperately at his curls.

“Wanna feel how good I make you feel,” he pressed, his lips brushing against your ear.

Your back arched off the bed as his hips slammed into yours, the angle perfect, his cock burying itself deep inside you. You howled out his name, your walls clenching and pulsing around him.

Harry groaned deeply, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he fought to maintain control.

“That’s it,” he growled. “That’s my good girl.”

He didn’t stop, his hips continuing to drive into you, his fingers on your clit prolonging your orgasm until your body shuddered from the overstimulation. You writhed and whimpered, trying to ground yourself, but Harry wasn’t done with you yet.

“You’ve got another one in you,” he whispered against your ear, his voice rough and full of intent.

“I can’t,” you whined, completely sure that you couldn’t handle more, that another orgasm might break you, but the fire in his gaze told you it wasn’t a question.

He shifted, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, your body already sensitive, but the way his cock dragged against your sweet spot had you spiraling all over again.

His fingers left your clit only to grab your other thigh, pulling you flush against him, his pace growing rougher, more desperate. “You feel that?” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “Feel how good you’re taking me? Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You could barely think, your mind foggy with pleasure as the pressure built inside you again, faster and harder this time. Harry’s lips found yours, swallowing your moans, his movements growing erratic as he chased his own release.

“Come with me,” he urged, his forehead pressing against yours, his voice barely more than a breath. “Come with me, kitten. Let me feel you.”

And then you were falling again, your body clenching around him as another orgasm ripped through you, white-hot and all-consuming. Harry followed just a second later, his groan low and guttural as he buried himself deep, his body trembling as he spilled into you.

The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, your bodies tangled together as you both came down from the high. Harry’s weight pressed against you, grounding you, his lips ghosting over your temple in a surprisingly tender gesture.

“You okay?” he asked after a moment, his voice softer now, full of concern as he brushed your damp hair away from your face.

You nodded, still catching your breath, your lips curling into a small, satisfied smile. “More than okay.”

Harry chuckled, the sound warm and comforting as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “Good,” he murmured, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your cheek. “Still think I’m full of myself?”

You shook your head, “no. Just thinking about me being full of you,” you grinned, biting down on your lip.

He cupped the back of your head, rolling onto his back and bringing you with him, holding you flush to his body. “I think your brother might kill me,” he whispered, a nervous edge to his usually steady voice.

[gyubakeries]

𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗰𝗲𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲𝘀 | h.js

a/n: so!! part 2 is here! thank you rie ( @okiedokrie ) and a ( @chugging-antiseptic-dye ) for supporting my insanity. this one is for u guys, my fav joshua stans 🫂

part 1

word count: 4k contents: NSFW content , joshua x afab!reader , college au , joshua records nsfw audios as a side hustle , friends to lovers , happy ending , nsfw warnings below the cut!

nsfw warnings: mdni! 18+ , protected sex , fingering (f. receiving) , multiple reader orgasms , come eating , oral sex (m. receiving) , breast play , lots of nicknames (darling, baby, beautiful, good girl)

joshua is a fairly simple guy. he’s kind and nice to everyone. he’s always down to help people if they need it. he’s got good grades, love from all his professors, and the reputation of being the ‘campus gentleman.’ he even volunteers at an animal shelter on some weekends. it’s all simple and great.

except for one secret he swears he will take to his grave. 

it’s the black and neon pink website he logs into every other week. it’s the microphone he records his moans in front of. it’s the thousands of people who pay him hundreds of dollars, on a weekly basis, just to hear him whispering dirty words to them.

it was a side job he picked up in the first year of college, when money was tight and his shifts at the local convenience store were barely able to cover his rent and student loans.

he was desperate and grasped at any chance he could get. when he stumbled across the website while trying to look for good porn, (don’t judge him, he has needs too) he made up his mind.

so, for a few weeks, he only had cup ramen for meals and used the leftover money to buy a good quality microphone. he set up his account on www. angelaudios.com, and nervously hit record for the first time.

he never looked back after that. 

joshua built a steady following of people who were just as desperate for pleasure as he was for money. he’d post audios twice a week, maybe even go live a few times if he wasn’t too busy. it worked out well for him, considering he could actually pay rent on time and afford to buy fresh ingredients to make his meals.

for each of his recordings, joshua usually needed some time and a vivid imagination to even get hard. but then, that changed when you came along.

you in your skirts and tank tops. you with your perfectly glossed lips. you and your cherry-scented perfume that joshua could only catch traces of whenever you sat next to him in your shared lectures.

after you, joshua didn’t need much motivation. he felt guilty about it every time, but he couldn’t help the natural reaction of his body whenever he thought about how he could see the swell of your breasts in the crop tops you wore, or how your perfectly manicured nails would look wrapped around him.

ShuaTalks gained a lot of traction, and he started earning more when he started posting four audios a week in the second year of college, and he had you to thank for it.

—

“so you’re telling me joshua hong records those asmr ‘POV: i’m your boyfriend and we have phone sex’ audios?” seungkwan raises an eyebrow at you, and you let your forehead slam against the table as you slump over in frustration.

“yeah, sort of,” you reply, your voice muffled because of the way your face is pressed up against the table.

“well, are we sure that it’s him? there’s tons of other guys named joshua, right?” seungkwan tries to reason.

“i listened to one of the audios last week, seungkwan,” you sigh, not even slightly embarrassed to admit it, because your friendship with seungkwan lacks any boundaries, which shouldn’t be healthy, but it works for the both of you. still, you don’t mention how his audios are what you’ve been listening to every night, for the past week. therefore, you can say with conviction that: “it’s him. i know.”

“you are a freak,” seungkwan scoffs, rolling his eyes at you. seconds later, his head is perking up and he looks at you with an expectant gaze.

“do you think i could get the link to the playlist too?”

“no! he’s my crush! go find your own audios!”

“knew it. freak.”

—

“were you busy last night? you didn’t answer my calls.”

you nearly let out a scream when you hear the voice that has been plaguing your thoughts for the past week. after managing to compose yourself, you turn to see joshua sitting down next to you, setting his bag down on the floor.

“sorry, i fell asleep early last night,” you smile awkwardly, trying your best to avoid eye contact with joshua.

“i saw you active at 2 a.m. though? and i’ve been trying to reach out for a week, but you never responded,” joshua refutes, and you mentally kick yourself for your stupid addiction to social media. “did i do something wrong? it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me, but i just want to know why, and apologize for any mistakes i might have made.”

“joshua, it’s not like that,” you shake your head. “it was just-”

whatever bullshit lie you were going to give him gets cut off by the professor walking into the lecture hall. all students fall silent immediately, and the professor begins his lecture unceremoniously.

“let’s talk after class, okay?” you whisper to joshua to make sure the professor won’t hear you.

and to your devastation, joshua leans in closer to whisper into your ear: “let’s get coffee after class, yeah?”

you can only gulp and nod slowly, your head moving like a broken robot. joshua gives you a small smile and pulls away, shifting his attention back to the professor.

you, on the other hand, try your best not to make it obvious just how affected you were simply by joshua whispering into your ear.

—

after class, there’s not much scope for you to escape without joshua noticing, so you resign to your fate and follow joshua to the coffee shop on campus. although it’s just a three-minute walk, every second feels like an hour in itself, especially because you awkwardly keep your mouth shut and joshua keeps glancing at you in a way that he thinks is subtle.

it’s not.

you’re put out of your misery when the familiar glass doors of the coffee shop open up automatically in front of you. after a deep inhale, you enter the building, and joshua leads the both of you to a table in the corner.

“do you want your usual?” joshua asks, and you nod wordlessly. it’s like there’s a countdown only you are aware of, telling you how much time you have left before joshua confronts you about your strange behaviour and what you’re going to tell him.

you don’t use your time very wisely.

you can’t help but look at joshua, who is at the counter, placing the order for your drinks. you can’t help but look at how his lips move as he speaks. you can’t help but look at how his bright eyes form crescents when he smiles at the employee. you can’t help but look at how his graceful hands carry the tray of drinks back to the table.

you pinch your thigh under the table as you panic. joshua is back at the table, and you have to give him an answer. an answer that you haven’t come up with yet.

“you look like i’m here to interrogate you for murder,” joshua laughs, attempting to cut through the tension. “relax, okay? in fact, if you don’t want to talk about it, you could just leave, it’s alright.”

you bite your lip nervously, wondering what you could say to him without giving away exactly why you’ve been avoiding him.

“the link you sent me was- it wasn’t the playlist, joshua,” you blurt out, forgetting all your plans of lying to him.

“so i sent you the wrong playlist,” joshua repeats. “and you’ve been avoiding me because of that?”

“no, you didn’t send me any playlist,” you groan, and joshua still looks confused, which prompts you to take your phone out and open up your texts with joshua. you scroll past all the unanswered texts and stop at the link he sent you.

“click on the link, see where it’s taking you,” you sigh, handing the phone over to him. joshua takes the phone from you and does what he’s told. within a few seconds, his eyes are going comically wide and his face flushes red instantly as he hurries to switch the phone off.

“fuck- y/n, you weren’t supposed to see that-” joshua sputters out. he’s on the brink of hyperventilating, and the other people in the coffee shop keep shooting dirty glares at him.

“joshua, calm down, it’s alright-”

“no! it’s not! you weren’t supposed to know- no one was supposed to know about it!” joshua cuts you off with more panicked rambling, which seems to attract more attention from other people.

“god, joshua, just shut up!” you hiss, leaning across the table to place your hand over his mouth. “this isn’t the place to talk about, this situation. let’s go back to my place, okay?”

at your words, joshua finally calms down enough for you to take him by the arm and lead him out of the coffee shop, both your drinks left untouched. you take him back to your apartment as quickly as possible, offering him a seat on your couch and some water once you’re inside.

there’s a few minutes of silence as joshua drinks the water, and you use the time to blame yourself for being an idiot and telling joshua the truth and throwing the both of you in an awkward situation. your train of thought is interrupted when joshua clears his throat to speak.

“i know you’re probably disgusted by me after- after seeing that,” he starts, his voice shaky. “i’m really sorry for sending you that, it was a complete accident, i swear. i wasn’t trying to be a creep or anything. you’re free to judge me all you want, i deserve it-”

“joshua, i’m not going to judge you,” you assure him, and he looks up to face you, his eyebrows furrowing with surprise. “what you do in your private life is none of my business. even i owe you an apology for acting all strange, but i promise it’s not because i’m disgusted by you.”

“you’re not?” he asks, not quite convinced.

“i’m not,” you confirm, and some of the tension in his shoulders melts away when you shoot him a small smile.

however, his next question has you freezing in your place.

“how did you know it was me, though?” joshua questions. “i mean, you wouldn’t have known if you didn’t listen to the audios. you didn’t, right?”

it’s your turn to blush a violent shade of red and avert your eyes from joshua’s gaze. “i’m- well, i mean, i was- i didn’t know who it was so i, i may have listened to one?”

the previous panic in joshua’s eyes transform into a knowing expression and smirk. “are you sure? just one?”

“no,” you mumble, hoping joshua didn’t pick up on it, but clearly, luck isn’t on your side today.

“so you listened to more than just one?” joshua tilts his head, his voice taking on that sweet lilt you’ve become used to hearing in your earphones. “did you like them?”

your brain, unhelpful as always, decides to bring back bits and pieces from the audios you’ve been listening to all week. joshua’s groans, whispers, and that sound he makes just when he’s about to cum, replay in your ears, and you press your thighs together as arousal spikes in your gut.

“use your words, darling. i can’t read minds,” joshua nudges you, and you finally break.

“i liked them, i liked them a lot,” you admit, eyes boring holes into the floor of your living room. there’s a few beats of silence before a finger is tipping your chin up, and suddenly, joshua is kneeling in front of you, his eyes locked on yours.

then he asks, “did you touch yourself while listening to them?” you nod, and joshua makes a sound of disapproval.

“baby, i told you to use your words, didn’t i?”

“i did, i touched myself,” you confess. “i even- i even made a few donations.”

“really? that’s so sweet of you, darling,” joshua smiles sweetly, yet the hunger in his eyes is anything but sweet. “now that we’re here, you deserve a little gift for being so good, don’t you? let me show you how grateful i am to you?”

“are you- are you serious?” your voice is unsure and hesitant.

“of course i am,” joshua assures. “you’ve been on my mind for a long time, y/n. so, what do you say?”

it doesn’t take you much time to decide what you want. the second you mumble out a soft yes, joshua is leaning in close to capture your lips in a slow kiss.

you’ve spent not only the last week, but the entirety of the time you’ve known joshua wondering how his lips would feel against yours. and it exceeds anything your imagination had come up with.

the way he kisses feels as syrupy as nectar, and it keeps you wanting more, which is why you dig your fingers into the fabric of his shirt to pull him in closer, letting out a gasp when his tongue licks across your lips and moves past them.

his hands, the ones you’ve dreamed of every night, grip at your waist, his thumbs rubbing circles into your warm, exposed skin, where your shirt has ridden up. he then pulls away to latch his lips onto your neck, leaving sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin he has access to.

“fuck, josh, can we- can we take it to my bedroom?” you gasp when you feel his teeth graze against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

“show me the way, beautiful.”

—

in the blink of an eye, you’re already laying down on your bed, your clothes stripped off, leaving you in your underwear. joshua is in a similar state of undress as he hovers over you, the boxers he’s wearing doing a poor job of hiding how aroused he is.

“you’re so pretty, y/n,” he whispers, maintaining eye contact with you as he litters your skin with kisses. he swirls his tongue over your nipple over the fabric of your bra, and the sensation makes you let out a sharp whine. “i’ve waited for this moment for so long, you have no idea.”

“me too, fuck, just take the damn thing off-” you grit your teeth because of how joshua keeps teasing you by mouthing at your breasts over your bra. he smirks at you, and with the flick of a wrist, the clasp of your bra is undone, and it’s pulled off your body.

smiling like a cat who has got the cream, joshua takes the liberty to mark your chest, leaving behind red traces of him so that you remember him for days to come. you arch your back, leaning into his touch and letting out whimpers as he tugs at your nipples with his teeth, leaving them red and puffy.

“joshua, i need you touch me, please,” you moan. it’s been a while since you got laid, which makes every touch feel extra sensitive, and joshua’s teasing is only making the unsettling feeling under your skin worse. 

“mm, since you’ve been such a good girl, i’ll give you what you want,” joshua mutters against your skin. you don’t have to beg again, because he’s pulling off your panties next to rub on your clit in gentle circles.

your hips buck up to gain some more friction, and joshua laughs to himself when he sees the desperate scrunch of your brows. he leans down to kiss you once again, reveling in the way you moan into his mouth when he finally slips two fingers inside you.

“god, you’re so tight,” he murmurs into your mouth. “you can’t take me if you’re this worked up, darling.”

“no! i can take you, i promise!” you whine as the scissoring movement of his fingers slow down. “i’m your good girl, i can take it all.”

“desperate for cock, aren’t you?” joshua chuckles, but the sound is mean, and it does a great job of turning you on even more. the feeling of him talking to you in the flesh the way he does in his audios is unreal, and you can’t believe you got this lucky. “i like that, baby. let me stretch you out a little more, hm? so i can fit it all in?”

you nod your head quickly, turning your face to the side to bury it in the pillow as joshua adds a third finger, his thrusts increasing in their pace. you’re trying your best to hold on till joshua finally fucks you, but his fingers are rubbing all the right spots, and before you know it, you’re screwing your eyes shut, clenching down on him and cumming with his name on your lips.

when you finally open your eyes, you feel another gush of wetness drip from your cunt as joshua licks his fingers clean of your orgasm.

“just as sweet as i expected,” he remarks casually, as if he’s talking about the weather.

“joshua, i need you to fuck me right now, or i will actually combust,” you pant, chest heaving with the intensity of your orgasm. 

“you’re being quite demanding now,” joshua raises an eyebrow at you. “but i’ll indulge you. where are the condoms?”

“first drawer, to the right,” you point at the nightstand next to your bed. joshua is quick to retrieve a condom. just as he’s about to tear open the foil packet, you stop him.

“can i do it?” you ask, and joshua’s eyes are filled with amusement.

“go ahead, baby,” he nods.

he’s kneeling on the bed, and you get on all fours in front of him. this time, there’s a smirk on your face as you lick at the bulge straining against the thin fabric of his boxers.

“baby, don’t tease,” joshua says, his tone bordering on an order, so you comply and tug his boxers down. 

“darling, you’re drooling,” joshua’s voice snaps you out of the momentary daze you were in. you feel his hand hold your chin, his thumb gliding against the wetness gathered on your chin. “the sooner you get the condom on, the sooner you get the fucking you deserve.”

hearing his words, you gulp. joshua was, for a lack of better words, huge. bigger than anyone you’ve slept with, and quite frankly, it’s making you nervous. joshua seems to sense that, because he calls your name out again to catch your attention.

“hey, if you’re unsure about this, we could stop here,” joshua offers, his voice gentle now. “i don’t want to force you into anything.”

“no, it’s- i’m not unsure, i want this,” you shake your head. “it’s been a while, that’s all.”

“i’ll go slow with you, if that’s what you want,” joshua says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “i never want to hurt you.”

“i know you wouldn’t,” you look up at him to give him a small smile. his attention is on you as he smiles back, and you seize the opportunity to catch him off-guard.

“oh shit,” joshua lets out a loud groan as you wrap your lips around his tip and suck, hard. he tries his best not to thrust into your mouth, knowing that once he started, it wouldn’t take him much time to cum down your throat. 

you seem to have understood it too, because your mouth doesn’t relent. you keep suckling at the tip like it’s a lollipop, the sound obscene to even your own ears. 

and then, you hear it. the sound he makes in the back of his throat. the breathy whine he lets out just as he’s about to reach his peak. at that very moment, you pull away with a satisfied grin. you pay little attention to the frustrated sounds joshua makes as you roll the condom over his length, pressing a kiss to the head as you lay back against the pillows again, spreading your legs in anticipation.

joshua all but pounces on top of you, claiming your lips in a hungry kiss as he lines his cock up with your hole, slowly nudging it inside you. your breath hitches in your throat at the pleasurable pain of his cock stretching out your walls. joshua distracts you from the pain by kissing you through it, one hand holding your waist, and the other finding yours to intertwine your fingers together.

“you feel so good around me, baby,” joshua says, and you feel the words being spoken against the skin of your neck as joshua finally bottoms out in you.

“feel so full,” you gasp. “please move, please.”

joshua doesn’t need any more convincing. he slowly pulls out and snaps his hips forward in sharp movements. his thrusts are so deep you think you can feel him in your throat. “faster, baby, c’mon,” you beg, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders and your legs tightly wrapping around his waist.

“you want it faster? want me to fuck you till your cunt only remembers the shape of my cock?” joshua grunts, picking up his speed, making you moan even louder. he’s fucking you so good you can’t even string together a coherent sentence, only mindless babbling leaves your lips.

“‘m so close, baby. you’re close too, hm?” joshua rasps, now rubbing your clit in tandem with his thrusts. “i can feel you clenching down on me. gonna milk my cock like a good girl, yeah?”

“fuck, yes joshua, i’m gonna cum-” your moans are only getting louder, and they provoke joshua to go faster to see just how loud you can get for him.

“go on, baby, let go for me,” joshua says, and if those were the magic words, you’re cumming again. this time, joshua reaches his climax at the same time. his thrusts slow down to a deep grind of his hips as you both ride out your orgasms.

“what the fuck, i can’t feel my legs,” you wheeze, your limbs practically reduced to jelly with how satisfying your orgasm was.

“can’t say i’ve ever had a girl say that to me before,” joshua chuckles. he slowly pulls out of you and collapses next to you on the bed.

“you do this with a lot of girls?” you ask, not daring to look at him.

“with a few, but i don’t have the same feelings for them as i do for you,” joshua replies without any hesitation, and it makes you turn your head to the side to look at him.

“you mean that?”

“i’ve had this hopeless crush on you for ages, y/n,” joshua confesses. “so yeah, i mean it. it’s the truth.”

“okay, good, because i really like you too,” your face breaks into a huge smile. “and i don’t want you to think that it’s only because of what just happened. i’ve liked you since the time you sat down next to me during our ‘history of music’ lecture and asked me to be your partner for the project.”

“that’s almost two years ago,” joshua’s mouth widens with surprise. “we’ve liked each other for that long?”

“god, we’re idiots,” you laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “come to think of it, if you hadn’t sent me the wrong link, how many years would we spend pining for each other?”

joshua’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink as embarrassment creeps up on him. “don’t remind me of that. i’m going to be scared of sending someone the wrong link for the rest of my life now.”

“at least it had a good outcome for us,” you shrug jokingly, and joshua’s laugh sounds like music itself.

later on, long after the both of you have showered and cuddled up under your blanket, you’re struck with a ridiculous thought while admiring joshua’s features in the pale moonlight.

“so, now that i’m a special fan, do i get any added benefits from ShuaTalks?”

“darling, i just gave you a live demo of my audios. are you already that desperate for another round?”

“we’ve got to make up for lost time, don’t we?”

“maybe after my early morning class tomorrow.”

“sure, party pooper.”

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[k1mbe3rly]

hii!!! i have a request for choi su bong/thanos from squid game! (very sorry if it is hard to understand, english is not my first language)

thanos and reader were friends before squid game, but fell out of contact due to both having issues with depression. they meet again at squid game and stay together

in mingle, reader gets pushed by another player while running to a room with thanos and they get locked out of the room (like young-mi 😔)

i like angst hehe

ouuu okk

Infant and innocent.

warnings: death (LOWKEY NOT EVEN THAT SAD, idk how to write angst sorry!!)

You and Thanos had went to highschool, he looked completely diffrent before, black hair, no tattoos, yall were best friends but fell out after graduation due to both of yall having issues and his little rapping career

The last place you thought you’ll ever see him was in the Squid games, he looked wayy different now.. the purple dyed hair, the tattoos, rings and the cross necklace, even tho he didn’t look the same as before you were still able to recognize your best friend.

“Oh my gosh! it’s been so long! how have you been!” you told him as you hugged quickly, “I’ve been better! i’ve missed you, what about you huh? you look the exact same as before!” he told you as he hugged you back “I’ve been good, better now!” you said giggling

Ever since that reunion, you both were practically glued to eachother, he introduced you to Nam-gyu which he had a mouth on him so Thanos would always say something to protect you

You guys stayed together thru out the games and catched up, laughing and everything

Yall were already teamed for the 2nd game, The six legged pentathlon, yall were sitting down on the floor noticing thanos acting different than Nam-gyu spoke up

“Hey dude can i have one of those things in your necklace?” he asked, thanos looked over “i don’t know what the fuck your talking about”

“Come on i’m like really shaky, dude look at my hands” he said shaking him his hands as you looked at them as well, “Do you know what this is?” he said raising his cross “Ecstasy?” “Nah this shit is crazy man.”

“Bro back then in the club i took all of it man..” nam gyu said as if it was something to flex, Thanos chuckled as he opened his cross “you little junkie..” he said giving him a colorful? smartie looking pill

He than looked over at you, “Want one?” he asked as you shaked your head “Uh.. what is it?” you asked back “Something that will chill your nerves, make you go brrr! know what i mean?” he said chuckling

You chuckled along trying to seem like you knew but than quickly stoped in confusion “No i don’t know what you mean..” you said, “God your so innocent..” he said chuckling a bit

Time skip

The 2nd gave was over with as yall mange to survive that, you sighed as you looked around, “What’s wrong?” Thanos asked looking up at you from the stairs, “Nothing just missing home, i guess…” you told him

His eyes slightly darken, “I think ima pick ‘X’, I kinda wanna go home, besides i think that’s enough money right?” you said to him again, “Nah.. you could always do more, besides you’ve survived this long why not just one more game?” he told you hoping you wouldn’t pick ‘X’

You hesitated, “I don’t know..besides it’s a bit dangerous, i mean who knows what the next game is right?” you said, Nam gyu glared up at you but he knew better to say anything because of thanos

“There just child games, it’s not like any of it is actually hard.. so one more game? than we get the hell out of here and fully catch up” he said smiling, you smiled back, “Sure..why not, i guess it shouldn’t be hard” you told her as he secretly applaud inside

You guys got yalls food as he looked at it, “The hell is this?” he asked the guards, he scoffed and walked away, you grabbed your food doing a small bow to the guard and quickly catching up to him

“Here, you can have mine” You told him giving him your bread, “What? no it’s yours” he said back pushing the bread away a bit, “No really, have it i’m not that hungry” you told him smiling at him

“Nah..you have to eat, you need energy for tomorrow” he told you, you rolled your eyes playfully as you opened the bag and split the bread into 2, “Than have my other half” you told him

He chuckled, you just won’t give up, he grabbed it and smiled at you

Time skip

It was now time for the 3rd game, Mingle, They explained the rules, they basically called out a random number and we have to pair up with the exact number and go into a room before times up, Seems easy right?

Everyone stepped on the platform as it started moving slowly in circles, a child games song came up as you stood there watching Thanos go in circles, his arms interlocked with Nam gyu as they laughed, you laughed a bit as you just looked away

“10 players”

The light started going darker colors and flickering a bit, since it was already 5 of yall, you just needed 5 more which yall quickly found and ran into a room

As the rounds went on the numbers were getting shorter

You were running with thanos as yall panicked and ran into a room with other people, both of yall slamming yourselves into the wall as he placed a hand to his chest, you covered your mouth laughing a bit since time was very low

He looked at you laughing as well, “Holy shit that was close!” he said, you nodded “Yea for a second i thought it was over! than i’ll have to hunt you down for saying one more game!” you told clearly joking and laughing

He laughed with you, “Nahh, I told you, your gonna make it trust! with those running skills? your good to go” he said back, “You better hope so” you said as you finally catch your breath.

The doors unlocked as everyone stepped back, everyone went back onto the platform

“Let the game begin”

Than the platform started moving and the same song came on, everyone waited a bit nervous as the platform stopped

“6 players”

Was all you heard, we still had 5 as thanos yelled out, “We need 1 more!!” he moved around as a random person came, “Come on!” he yelled at the group as he started running to a room, but when he opened it, people were already in there

“Get out!!” the people yelled as he quickly slammed the door

“Here!! this one is empty!!” Nam-gyu yelled as he was at a door, the whole group started running, you were running behind them

Your heart was beating as suddenly you were shoved, slammed into a wall, you let out a yelp

You felt dizzy since your head hit the wall, “Su bong..?” you said out, luckily thanos was able to hear you since, he quickly turned around seeing you

“Y/n!” he yelled out as he saw you getting up looking at him a bit dizzy, he was about to run to you until someone grabbed him pushing him in

You came to realization as you quickly ran to the door but it was already shut and locked, your heart was pounding faster than ever as you panicked

Thanos roughly shoved the guy away from the door looking into the little rectangle hole, the only thing he faced was your eyes which were tearing up

“Y/n!” he yelled out reaching his hands thru the hole as he felt your cheek, your tears fell down onto his finger tips even him started feeling tears forming

“Su bong..” you whispered

Thanos tried to reach out his hand even further as he was able to touch your cheek fully, he shaked his head refusing to believe that you were out there and he was inside

You leaned into his touch a bit as your tears made his hand wet, “No..no! y/n..” he said quickly

You didn’t have time to answer him as you felt a sharp sting thru your back, you let out a loud yelp as your body flinched, your head fell onto the door, more into thanos hand as he widen his eyes

He moved his hand to your chin trying to hold you up as your eyes went lifeless, his tears begin falling down as he couldn’t hold you up anymore, your body fell to the ground.

He banged his head on the door a bit as everyone watched him, he turned to the guy that pushed him inside and brutally punched him as Nam gyu quickly grabbed on to him

“Chill…chill it’s okay.” he said still pulling him back , Thanos growled and gripped onto his own hair

He started remembering everything, your smile, your last moments, what you told him last round about hunting him if you died.

If only he let you pick ‘X’ and so did he, you both would’ve been home being able to catch up properly.

[idontactuallyremember]

Thanos x fem!reader PART ONE

- You assume Thanos flirts with you in an attempt to get you to vote O next round. He comes to you late at night and offers you something. At first, you think it's only so he can manipulate you. However, he asks you something that changes your assumption of him and what he wants.

- TW! Y'all both popping pills!!!

- Sad boy/ sorta soft boy Thanos :( Fluff, essentially SFW (Next part might be spicy 🤪)

- He's kinda a jerk at first (it's a defense mechanism, he's hurting)

“Why not? You think you’re better than us?” Thanos says, a sarcastic smile sprouting on his lips, “You think you’re better than Thanos, girl?”

“I don’t need a team. I don’t need friends.” You say, simply, “I don’t need a group.”

This is not your first time explaining to Thanos you didn’t want to join his team. Each time he offered, he had a different, new and improved reason as to why you had to join them.

“Last game… I saw you struggling. The bitches you’re with now won’t help you if the next game is another team game. You’re lucky you survived the Pentathlon.” Thanos replies and Nam-Gyu, his pet, bobbles his head in agreeance.

“Remind me, why do you even care?” You smile.

“We want to protect you, baby. You think such nasty things of us… We also need an extra vote for the O team and if you join us, I know you’ll vote O next round.”

“I don’t need your protection. I think you need my help more than I need yours.” I give an exaggerated, sarcastic, sad glance to the voting results- a tie until we re-vote tomorrow, “Anyhow, even if I joined your team- I’m still voting X.”

“Well, if you joined my team and voted X that’d be like betrayal to me, girl. Why can’t we both benefit from this?”

“Right, how am I benefiting?"

“Well, we’d be protecting you like I said! If you don't join us someone else will and if you’d rather die with those bitches-”

“Stop calling them that!” You interrupt but he ignores you.

“-than go right ahead.”

There’s a moment of disapproving silence- you and Thanos simply stare at each other.

He glances you up and down and stalks closer to you, closing the space to mere inches- “I could protect you and I could also get my dick wet, yeah? Make you feel good?”

“Fuck you.” You say.

“She’s just playing hard to get.” He says to his group as you walk away.

Later that night, you lay in bed, unable to sleep. A bad feeling creeps up your chest- the feeling that you might die here.

You also think about what Thanos said. He's been flirting with every girl here but he won't leave you alone specifically. He’d fuck anything that walks, surely. It sort of made you mad- but deep down- part of you liked that he chased you.

You stare at the ceiling for minutes, maybe half-an-hour. You hear movement coming from below you, only, it’s too dark to see anything. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself so you stay as still as possible.

Someone is climbing up your bed to the top bunk. You already know who it is. The sight of purple hair only solidifies what you already know to be true.

“I will kick you down the fucking bunk and laugh when you break your neck- get the fuck out of my bed.” You say.

“Woah, woah, I just saw how tense you were earlier, I figured: why not offer you something?”

“You’ve offered enough, no?” You ask, cheekily.

He says nothing, only sits himself down (uninvited), removes the necklace from his neck and opens the cross. An array of colorful tablets lay in a hidden compartment.

“You want one?” He says, a smile on his face.

He waited, expectantly. You’d never seen him this happy or this excited. Maybe only when he murdered three people during Red Light, Green Light.

You think about the consequences of taking one. He probably wanted to drug you and get you to vote O, or worse.

He notices your hesitation and states, “Look: I’ll take one, too. We could get high together, okay?”

He picks a green one and places it on his tongue, then, lingering for a moment, “What’s your favorite color, baby?”

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, maybe it was the excessive trauma of the last few days but- fuck, he is hot. Sitting here in the dim-lit room, him in your bed, you only notice now. The tattoos; running down his neck, down his arm, to his long, slender fingers. The ear piercings, the purple hair, the colorful nails- he was sexy. Especially the way he looked at you; looked at those pills. Like a kid on Christmas. You can’t help but think about what his tattoos look like in full; what he looks like without his shirt.

“Pink.” You swallow, thickly, clearing your head.

He meticulously shuffles the tablets around, digging for a pink one, his hands hovering over the piece of jewelry.

“Open.” A simple demand- he doesn't even look at you to see if you do. 'Cocky fuck', you think but your legs feel weak from his commanding tone, anyway.

You do as he says and he places the tablet on your tongue.

“Good girl… chew it.” He purrs. Your insides feel like jelly.

“It will hit hard and fast, okay? Should I stay here?” He asks.

You remember that feeling you had, laying awake before Thanos crawled up here. The feeling that death is imminent, that you will die here, maybe in this bed.

You still didn't trust him- not as far as you could throw him- but if you may die anyway…

“Stay here with me.” You decide, quietly.

“Okay.” He lays down next to you instantly, stroking your hair.

It’s silent as he twirls your long hair between his fingers.

“Thanos?”

“Yes, pretty?”

“Why won’t you leave me alone?”

“I want you.”

“Why? Why not someone else?”

He thinks for a long time.

“The other people here... they treat me like an object. I'm some rapper- not even anymore- who they just want to say they met. Say they were friends with... whatever. You saw the way they all wanted a picture with me? Those people admire me but they don't like me. Plus, I always want things I can’t have. You don’t like me, either. It makes me want you more. At least you don't lie to me."

Maybe it was the drugs talking.

Maybe it’s only because he won’t give up. Maybe you liked that he wanted you so bad.

“I do want you.” You say, barely above a whisper.

“Why do you act like you don’t?”

“Because I don't agree with you in this game. I need to leave. Fuck the money, at this point. I’d rather have my life.” you say.

“I wouldn’t.” He says, glumly. You don’t ask why; you don’t say anything.

It's silent for so long, you wonder if Thanos fell asleep. You feel the drugs working through your body, your feet and hands tingling, the room spinning. You wonder if he’s feeling it by now, too. You wonder how many he takes- Do they even do anything for him anymore?

“Life sucks out there…If everyone else around me is pretending... pretending to be my friend... I want to just pretend- even for a minute- that things are okay.” He admits, sleepily, “I can't… do that out there. Here I can pretend.”

For a long time, you don't know what to say.

“I understand.” You say. Because you do.

You feel him push against you closer.

“Pretend with me?” He asks.

More silence. Is this his way of trying to convince you to vote O? He plays the sad-boy card?

“Please?” His voice desperate; he grips your shirt as he cuddles you, pulling you close. He sounds genuine.

“Okay. We can pretend, Thanos.”

“Thank you.” He says, seemingly relieved. You feel the grip on your shirt loosen after a few minutes.

“Thanos?” You whisper.

No reply- he’s asleep. You relax into his arms until you think about what he said, just earlier:

"You don’t like me, either. It makes me want you more. At least you don't lie to me."

When you recall him saying that, all you can think about is how he isn't asking to be wanted or loved- he's not even asking for the truth, whether he appreciates it or not. He's asking, desperately, to pretend.

You realize how much a person needs to have been lied to to beg to be lied to, again, only, under their own terms.

For him to beg for an ounce of kindness, sympathy, connection: even if it's not real... that must hurt.

Your stomach turns; you feel like crying. You stare at the ceiling more.

Thanos snores softly beside you.

[zepskies]

Aw welcome back, Wayne!! 😘 I'm so happy to hear that you've been thinking of this series. 🥰 And I'm so excited to see what you thought of Part 2...

I'm so in love with their little bonding sessions. Being stuck inside a cabin and playing games? I want that 😍

Aww it's the little moments with Dean that I would so love -- along with just being snowed in, in a cabin with him. 😏

And lol it's gotta be so awkward for true mates when they're still strangers. I absolutely adored her thought process throughout 😆

Lolll YEP exactly. 😆 Like, realistically how do you broach that conversation with someone? I'm glad you liked that attempt to inject some realism there. 🤣

Love how Dean doesn't realize he's oversharing and that his whole childhood might not have been normal 😂

ahaha Dean got so into his story he didn't realize he was giving himself away there! Bit of a rookie move, but she's his literal soulmate, so he's probably a little distracted. 🤪

And oh God, all those journal entries 😭😭😭 I know they're from the OG journal, but it just rips my heart right out again rereading it 😢 Those portray John's despair and heartbreak way better than the show did...

Girl I had never read the official journal, and it hit me in the feels in just the same way. 😭 I had that exact same thought -- that they served to humanize John and explain why he became the way he was with the boys way better than the show did.

Ooooh, let's think about it, shall we? 😏 Her dad might have totally been snatched by something supernatural. Considering their location and how it happened in her memories, it might have been a Wendigo?? 🤔

Ooh you're red-hot! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Dude! Goosebumps! Wendigos scare the shit outta me 🙈 It's still why The Descent is the scariest movie for me. I die from a heart attack every time 😂 🫣

ooooh my God, I haven't seen The Descent, but if it's anything like the Wendigo episode, than I don't wanna know. 😭 Legit when I was first starting to watch SPN I had to take a break after that episode -- and it was only episode 2!! 😩

No! Alex!!!! YOU KNOW THIS IS WHY I HATE SNOOPING Girl, you're killing me here... 😆😆

LOLL I love that you referenced Smoke Eater -- it's those same vibes from Part 8, isn't it? I have a little less sympathy for the reader in this situation, but she is ultimately sorry for going through his private journal/invading his privacy to the nth degree. 😅

OMGG I LOVED that gif of the little polar bear. 🥹🥹 Took me right out with the cuteness lmao. I laughed so hard at all your commentary with the reader and her lack of bear knowledge. 😝

N'aw, I know it was necessary but poor bear – wrong place, wrong time for the fella 🥺💔

Aww I know, I felt bad for writing that part. Poor Ted. 😭😭

My heart is full 😭❤️❤️❤️ (Also, I doubt he can ever stand to let her go her own way after this lmao)

Ha! You're right about that one. I just love me some protective Alpha Dean. 😏

Huh. Never eaten bear before... Never even thought about it before lol Also seems like something the Shaws would've done 😂

Me either lmao, but I've read about people who actually hunt for a living who survive off bear, caribou, bison, etc. I imagine it's a hard way to live, but omg yeah I could see Ashton making his kids learn how to shoot, but them not wanting to shoot a bear or a deer. 😭

Omg I love that ending! Dean's finally coming around, and she's putting the puzzle pieces about her dad together. I wonder what Dean will do when he hears the full story? Would he go hunt the thing? Is it even still out there??? Questions upon questions... 🤔

Aw I'm glad! Yesss it's about time with him lol. Good thing all your questions there will be answered in Part 3...

So excited for the next part!! I'm loving this story and everything you've put in it, and the dynamic between them is amazing. So well done, friend 😍🩵🩵

Aw thank you so much, my friend!! I tried to balance the slower "getting to know you" parts with some of this actiony/dramatic stuff as they slowly grow closer. 🥰💜💜

Also, don't think I forgot about the last two chapters of Polaris. I'm so looking forward to diving into those chapters soon!! 😘

Against the Wind - Part 2

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Thank you guys so much for all the amazing feedback on Part 1! Now, most of your theories and questions will be answered...

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, and peril, the other kind of "hunting."

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday

“I’ll raise you 25,” you say, tossing five chocolate covered pretzels into the middle pile. It’s a risky bet, considering how much you lost in the last hand. Dean regards you with an amused, if critical eye while he holds his cards.

“Ooh, you’re bluffing,” he says. You pop your brows at him, a subtle smile tugging at your lips.

“You want to test that theory? Put your money where your mouth is,” you challenge.

He tilts his head at you with a raise of his own brows.

“Cheeky omega,” he mutters. His attention returns to his cards as he deliberates on his next move.

You attempt to be nonchalant as you glance down at your cards again. It’s a shitty hand, but he doesn’t need to know that. The alpha’s won the last two hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, but you did win the first one. Though you suspect he let you win.

You want to at least even the score before he resumes his work out in the shed. He spends most of his time there during the day, or making sure the firewood is stocked. It seems like he takes any excuse not to spend too much time in your presence.

More than anything, you want to ask him if he feels what you feel—the same tug in the pit of your stomach every time he’s nearby. You just haven’t found a way to broach that with him.

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too?

You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

So you have to be content with mornings like this and in the evenings, where he lets you put on one of his records, and you two share dinner together, maybe another round of cards. Or you’ll read a book while lounging on the chaise, and he lays out on the couch, listening to his music with his eyes closed. You like watching him like that, with a relaxed, damn near peaceful set to his face.

Too often he holds that harder, stoic expression, or that divot between his brows that makes you want to soothe two of your fingers there; or better yet, lean in and press your lips—

“It’s your move,” Dean reminds you. He’s finally played his hand, but you were too distracted to hear what he said.

“What’d you do?” you ask, surveying the piles of cards.

“Call,” he repeats, popping a few pretzels into his mouth. He washes it down with beer and more barbeque chips. Those are worth $10 in this little fantasy betting. He points a finger towards you with the same hand that holds his beer, teasing, “You got all the lights on in there? Or am I boring you?”

You glance up at him, fighting a smile. “All right, keep your pants on. Let me see…”

As the dealer, he’s already turned over the River: the last card in the hand. It’s a 10 of Clubs, which means your One Pair is actually a Two Pair. It’s still not a great hand, but it’s decent enough to maybe let you get the best of your opponent.

After you go “all in,” Dean’s lips twitch at a smile, and he humors you, going all in as well. You’re on tenterhooks when he finally reveals his hand.

“Ooh, it ain’t a cheesy ‘90s sitcom, but it’s still…a Full House,” he brags as he lays out each card in a smooth line of overlapping cards, the mix of glossy red diamonds and black spades showing the truth. He won again.

You huff in defeat, your shoulders sinking in your seat at the kitchen table. You turn over your measly hand. Sweeping the winnings toward himself (a mound of chocolate covered pretzels, a stack of barbecue chips, and a handful of Oreos), Dean chuckles and tosses you a wink.

“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards.

“That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?”

“My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”

“You were hanging out in bars at sixteen?” you ask incredulously. There, Dean seems to realize he’s said too much. He becomes more guarded as he puts away the deck and cleans the crumbs off the table.

“My dad was always working. You could say I didn’t really have a curfew,” he says.

“A latchkey kid, huh?” you reply, hiding the way you’re trying so hard to glean any more hints of truth between his words.

“Heh, yeah.” He gets up from the table and tosses the breakfast dishes in the sink, then travels to the front door to don his jacket and boots.

“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says.

Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.

You’ve learned another small tidbit about him, one that feels more important than it seems on the surface. And yet, it only elicits more questions you doubt he’ll be willing to answer so easily. He’s more than tight-lipped about his past, only giving vague outlines and general pictures.

Even his stories—like being raised up in a family of traveling mechanics, putting Nair in Sam’s shampoo when he was a kid, or the guy’s serious fear of clowns—feel like they’re missing some key details.

You decide to take up your crutches and head for your room. There you unearth the journal from its hiding place under your pillow. This time, you turn to the very beginning. Before all the jargon about mythology (and an odd footnote about a “Turducken Slammer”), there are actual journal entries. The first one dates back to November 6, 1983. The first line already captures your attention.

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed… When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

He writes about their house burning with all their memories inside, along with Mary. Somehow, he saw her pinned bloody to the ceiling.

Along with these pages is a clipping from a news story:

House Fire Kills Mother of Two

Lawrence, Kansas.

You’re spellbound by it all. You keep reading.

November 13, 1983

…Most of our clothes and photos are ruined, even our safe—the safe with Mary’s old diaries, the boys’ savings bonds, what little jewelry we had…all gone. How could my house, my whole life, go up like that, so fast, so hot? How could my wife just burn up and disappear?

The police don’t believe his story, about how she died before the fire, about what he saw. So he tries to convince himself that what he saw wasn’t real. Still, he can’t find rest, and he worries about his sons’ safety.

December 4, 1983

I haven’t let them out of my sight since the fire. Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side—or from his brother.

Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he’s trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.

Sammy cries a lot, wanting his mom. I don’t know how to stop it, and part of me doesn’t want to. It breaks my heart to think that soon he won’t remember her at all.

You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.

John becomes convinced that someone, or something, started the fire that destroyed his life and took his wife away from him and his sons. He leaves his job and the remnants of that world behind, to venture deeper into the darker one. But in that darkness, he finds truth.

He visits a psychic, Missouri, who leads him back to his house and senses the echoes of an evil presence—something that shakes her to the core, and John too: the creature that killed his wife.

December 20

…She told me that it was the most powerful, awful thing she’s ever come across.

On January 1, 1984, John makes a New Year’s resolution. He determines to find the answers himself.

A shiver runs down your spine. In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.

You keep flipping through the rest of the journal past January. There are translations of a Latin exorcism, and like you read before, strange drawing of evil looking creatures—as well as what they are, scraps of their history, and how to kill them.

Silver bullet to the heart, can’t withstand iron, salt and burn.

You pause on a certain page, more filled with lore than the rest, and a primitive drawing in the center.

WENDIGO

Cree: Evil that devours.

Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests.

Perfect hunter.

Your breath stills in your lungs as a cold sweat forms across your skin. The more you read, the faster your heart beats.

The crunch of dead leaves. Your father shouting at you to run, and keep running.

The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short. You turn around with your rifle in hand, poised to shoot blindly.

Your stomach churns as bile rises into your throat. You feel sick, and wrong, and you suddenly have the urge to throw the journal against the wall.

“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?”

You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house. He likely caught the scent of your distress. He pushes the door of your room open to find you, but he stops short in the doorway. His surprise quickly morphs into a frown when he notices what you’re holding in your lap.

You gasp, freezing where you sit, but there’s no point in trying to cover up what you’ve done. With an angry purse of his lips, he reaches over and takes the journal from your hands.

“What the hell are you doing with this?” he demands.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I just—” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was…a normal journal.”

“So this is how you go about it, huh? Got everything you wanted, Columbo?” he says, his sarcasm cutting into you. He flips through the journal to make sure all the pages are intact before he tucks the journal under his arm. “Seriously, going into somebody’s stuff? Who the hell raised you?”

At that, you begin to bristle.

“My dad,” you snap back. Though remembering the passages you’ve lived with for the past few hours, you soften with a painful twinge of sympathy in your heart. 

“And it looks like yours raised you to be some kind of…well, what are you, a ghostbuster or something?” you ask.

His jaw locks. “Or something.” 

With an exasperated sigh at his hedging, you swing your legs around the edge of the bed and haul yourself up with your crutches so you can at least match his stance (more or less).

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—”

“Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating.

“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.” 

Your mouth actually falls open in shock. His vehement words feel almost as powerful as a physical blow, if to your soul. They make your arms tremble while holding yourself upright on your crutches. Hot tears well up in your eyes, though you try to blink them away. After a moment, you’re able to collect yourself enough to speak.

“I’m sorry for going through your stuff,” you say, in a quiet voice.

You hobble awkwardly past him out of the room. You don’t stop until you reach the front door, where your snow boots are. You manage to get them on by yourself so you can go outside and get some fresh air, not to mention some much needed distance from the alpha’s burning presence. You can still feel him trailing behind you. You hear his heavy boots.

“Where the hell are you going?” he grits out.

You hobble faster.

Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin. 

The snow depth has lightened somewhat since the storm, but it’s still not easy to navigate on your crutches. You get some distance from the cabin, mindful not to go too far. You know you’re limited, and you didn’t even take a gun with you.

Finding a solid tree to lean on, you rest there and try in vain to stifle your tears. You know you were wrong for snooping, and he had a right to be mad, but did he really have to be such a freakin’ bear? 

Fucking alphas. I swear.

You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life. 

Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate?

You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.

Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.

Your body stiffens with a terrible memory—of that day in the woods. Your breath comes out in short puffs on the cold air, your eyes wide as you listen closely.

Hearing nothing, you allow yourself to breathe a little easier. You venture a few paces forward and to the right, but you stop shy of how it slopes downward. Some unnamed feeling tells you to look over the edge.

You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.

Oh shit…

You remember Dean mentioning something about a bear passing by his cabin a couple of days before the storm. Looks like he’s back to make his rounds.

His fur is dark; from this distance, you can’t tell if it’s a black bear or a grizzly. It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray. His gait is massive, unhurried, but he lets out a braying sound when your gaze meets his, as if acknowledging you. He stops there for a moment, assessing. Your body locks up with fear.

The bear groans again, this time sharper. You finally snap out of your reverie and force your body to move slowly backward with your crutches spearing into the snow. The cabin isn’t that far, maybe thirty or forty yards at most. Still, the bear can probably beat you.

Instead of trying to run, you stand your ground and shout at the bear, hoping he’ll back off. Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar. Trembling, you miss a step and get knocked back into the snow on your ass, your crunches falling out at your sides. You scramble inside your jacket for anything that might help you. 

Bear spray!

You hurry to get the cap off with shaking hands, but before you can even aim, the creature’s heave paws thudding into the ground in front of you—a gunshot rings out and hits the animal in the chest. 

The bear falters, then roars in pain and anger.

Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.

In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester:

For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.

Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.

Instead, his lips purse as he wracks his rifle and slings the strap of it over his shoulder. He stalks toward you and scoops you up, crutches and all. He brings you back to the cabin without a word.

His jaw is once again locked with silence and strain; he doesn’t trust himself to speak until he’s brought you inside and carried you over to the chaise. He sits beside you there and takes an inventory of you with his eyes.

“You okay?” he asks at last.

You manage to meet his gaze and give a little nod.

“Okay. Don’t move,” he says shortly. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, where he grabs a foldable set of knives and a cooler from under the sink.

You watch him in silence, and you realize he’s going back to gut the bear. You didn’t know that he actually hunted out here…well, hunted to eat. He continues to gather items in silence. It gets to a point where you can’t stand it, or his curtness, any longer.

“Thank you,” you say, halting his steps. Dean glances at you over his shoulder, then continues strapping up his supplies. He huffs in response.

“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you. 

His attitude both hurts you and aggravates you, so much that you refuse to take it anymore. 

“Look, Dean. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have butted into your life,” you say. Frustrated tears well up in your eyes. Expelling a sharp sigh, you amend yourself. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’m sorry about what you went through, and I’m…I’m sorry about your mom. I’m sorry for today. I’ll just…stay out of your way, and I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

Dean finally turns your way, but your lips tremble as you turn your face away from him and shut your eyes tightly against the salty burn of tears. Deep inside, his heart withers in his chest. He sighs and drops his supplies on the couch. He walks over with those heavy boots, and he sits on the edge of the chaise beside you. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he rests a warm, calloused hand on your arm and earns your tearful gaze. 

“I’m sorry. I, uh…shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he says. 

You sniff, quickly wiping away your embarrassing tears as they come. Your cheeks are hot with it.

“What is it you wanna know? About me,” he asks, surprising you that much more.

 Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out. It takes you some time to think, but the first thing that comes to your mind is…

“Everything in that journal,” you say, licking your dry lips. “Is it real?”

Dean holds your gaze steadily. You know the truth without him having to say it, but he does.

“I was a hunter,” he says. “Those things you read about, I found ‘em. Killed ‘em. It was my job.”

“And now?” you ask, once that large bit of information has time to set into your brain.

His lips tug at a half smile. “Consider me…mostly retired.”

You exhale softly, and you nod. It earns a furrowed look from Dean.

“You don’t seem all that freaked out by this,” he says, with a more scrutinizing gaze on you.

“Should I be?” you say, with an unsteady laugh.

He raises his brows. “In my experience, yeah.”

You chew on the inside of your lip. You don’t know if you should even put into words what you’ve been holding onto for months. Like John, no one believed you. Even your own mother had started to look at you like you needed a shrink.

“Omega?” Dean presses. His green eyes are perceptive as they take in the conflicted look on your face. “There something you wanna tell me?”

You deliberate for a moment longer. Then, you release a sigh and glance down at your hands clenching in your lap.

“A few months ago, I lost my dad,” you begin.

Dean nods. “Yeah, you said—”

“I lost him in these woods,” you say.

That quiets the alpha.

You shake your head, and you find your words as the memories that have been haunting your nights return to you.

“Like I said, we used to go hiking here every year…”

AN: Just so you know, all of the journal entries appear in the official "John's Journal" SPN merch. 😉

Next Time:

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name louder, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 3

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[ilysungho]

prompt 1: “how do you want me to fuck you?” With soft dom best friends, Myung Jaehyung and Kim Leehan (helping their friend orgasm 🤭)

a/n: not sure how to write threesomes but i hope this is good... also i apologize for taking so long! i've been putting off finishing this 'cause i felt like i wouldn't be able to write this up well if i don't put some thought into it. anyways, PLEASE let me know how this is written! i'd love any and all feedback and criticism <3 enjoy my loves! wc: 2k contains: softdom!leehan, softdom!jaehyun, sub!reader, leehan x reader, jaehyun x reader, leehan x jaehyun x reader, jaehyun is in love with you, leehan's just a chill guy, ex!taesan mentions, degradation implied, masturbation mention, threesome, experienced leehan, virgin jaehyun, fingering, penetration (p in v), unprotected sex (don't!), lowercase intended, prompts italicized

leehan had been studying your face for a while, sitting across you and jaehyun at the table. his eyes focused on how you scrunched your eyebrows and moved your pencil furiously to try and solve the equation at hand.

"no not like this y/n, do this instead." jaehyun's hand wrapped around your own as he scratched the right way of getting the answer down. you weren't the best at math but at least you had jaehyun to help. on the other hand, you didn't know why leehan tagged along, but you didn't mind the company of both your best friends.

the room fell quiet again with the three of you focusing on your homework. suddenly, you felt a foot touch yours, socks rubbing your own to get attention. "hani cut it out. i'm trying to finish the stupid homework here."

"can we do something fun instead? this is so boring, i'm already done with most of mine." he bent backwards, groaning in frustration. you looked up to see the veins on his neck protruding, immediately looking back down to forget the sight in front of you. a faint blush rose on your cheeks while you kept your head down, the pencil scribbling harder.

jaehyun noticed the sudden shift in your demeanor, squinting his eyes to read your behavior. in all the years he knew you, he could tell that the expression on your face meant that something turned you on. he remembered a time when you were dating taesan and texting him, suddenly getting up with the same blush to go to your room. he didn't mean to hear the moans coming out of your room as you masturbated to your now ex's voice on call, him saying things that made jaehyun want to punch his face for taking time away from his best friend. his best friend he had come to like. and he couldn't help being so protective over you.

on the other hand, to leehan, his actions were out of pure frustration. he had no intention to make you feel a certain way, but if he knew, he'd take full advantage of the situation. it wouldn't be the first time he tried to, but he hadn't done so since your break up. he'd rather sit there with you and listen to you let out your emotions, rubbing your back while you cry, telling you words of comfort.

both the boys had their attention on you while you hid your face in the paper you had to turn in in a couple days. jaehyun’s puzzled mind took a hold of your hand again, gently but strongly moving it away so you would look up.

“what jaehyun? let me finish this please.”

“why is your face red?” leehan interjected upon seeing the expression he hadn’t caught before.

“w-what? nothing, its h-hot… that’s it!”

“no, i know that face.” jaehyun looked at you with sharp eyes and pursed lips.

“what f-face? i don’t know what you’re talking about!” the saturation on your cheeks heightened at his face and low voice.

“you make that face when you’re turned on. you think i wouldn’t know after seeing it come up so many times while talking to that ex of yours? i’ve heard how you go into your room to moan and fuck your fingers while he called you things he never should’ve.”

leehan sat across amused listening to the story his friend shared with him. jaehyun’s irritated voice got louder as he leaned ahead into you, trapping you between his arms against the edge of the desk. you sat extremely still and quiet, scared to confirm the true story since you’d never talked about that side of you before.

taking a deep breath in, you got up to excuse yourself to the bathroom. but the blond’s hand tugged on the hem of your pants, making your stomach churn at the sudden flutter of his skin touching yours. “don’t leave now, y/n. you’re not in the mood to study anymore right? then why don’t we have some fun now?” his sickly sweet smile only made it worse as he pulled you down to sit on his lap, jaehyun watching the entire interaction while moving to sit beside leehan.

"yeah, you know that we can help you right? we're your best friends after all, so trust us ok?" you stared at jaehyun, hearing his words coated with a hint of lust. the 3 of you never shared stories of sexual fantasies of encounters, so the whole situation pointing in that direction had you confused but also... excited?

there's no way i'm excited right now... leehan and jaehyun are just my friends, so i wouldn't want to do anything. hell, i don't even see them in this way, so why am i looking forward to what will happen?

leehan's hands on your thighs got you out of your thoughts, rubbing the pants you wore just enough to where the friction produced some heat to your skin underneath. jaehyun's face came near yours, as if to ask for permission to kiss you. you pursed your lips though, scared to know what will happen next. "just kiss him y/n, he's been dreaming of it anyways."

your breath hitched at leehan's words, jaehyun face only getting closer to you when you finally gave in. the kiss felt like fireworks to jaehyun. he's dreamed of anything to do with you since forever, but he too didn't want to change his relationship with you if it meant he could stay by your side. but how could he not take the opportunity right in front of him? he'd be stupid not to.

his lips tangled with your own while leehan kissed your neck. your hands reached up to pull jaehyun's face closer to you, while leehan's held you down on his lap. everything felt like too much while being between the two guys you gave control to, grinding softly on the lap you sat on.

leehan let go and sat back, watching the scene in front of him while leaning against his arms. your kissing partner then switched his position to sit on top of your lap, essentially putting the weights of you both on leehan. you were too entranced by the way jaehyun expertly kissed you, his tongue now exploring your mouth while you let out moans into his.

any and every sound you let out went straight to jaehyun's dick as you felt him get hard on top of you, while leehan got hard under you from the pressure. he was so very amused by everything happening on top of him, but he too wanted to get some control. so he waited while he wrapped his arms around the two of you, as he went back to kissing and sucking on your neck.

jaehyun let go of the kiss, catching his breath as he looked dazed from the most magical kiss of his life. a string of saliva kept you two connected until you let out another moan from leehan's sudden biting. the boy on top of you removed his shirt, after which he took of yours as well. he went straight to kissing your chest, massaging the skin under your bra. leehan helped jaehyun then, unhooking your bra from behind so he could take if off.

unknown to you, leehan tapped on jaehyun and signaled to take you to bed. at the former's cue, the latter let go while leehan held you bridal style before lying you down on your mattress. now, jaehyun's had his fair share of make outs with a couple people before, but it's never gone ahead of that when he wanted to save himself for you. on the other hand, leehan's essentially been fucking around to find his tastes, so this one would just be another playtime for him.

“so how do you want us to fuck you? actually scratch that, i'll decide.” leehan taking on the dominating role, both your best friends' gentle hands touched you softly, feeling your skin to their hearts' contents. but jaehyun did take a backseat, seeing how leehan touched your rather sensitive parts with expert fingers. his touch had you shivering as he brought his fingers over the cloth on your clit. "lift your hips for me, y/n." leehan said out loud, you obeying his command as he slipped the garment off of you with ease. jaehyun leaned against the wall behind while on the bed, reaching for his boner as he watched how his trusted friend worked you over yourself, fingers reaching into you making you whine.

"jae, don't touch yourself. do what i'm doing right now ok? make sure to, you'll make y/n feel good this way then." jaehyun gulped as he nodded, paying attention to everything leehan did. but most of all, to the sounds you made, how your face looked down to where it felt the best, how your mouth was slightly agape. just everything about you had jaehyun absolutely on edge as he watched and thought about how he'd going to finally be able to have you.

feeling your juices squelch around, leehan felt he prepped you enough to where jaehyun can now take over. giving the reigns to his the other male, he sat back and watched as his friend got in position, inserting his length into you easily with all the foreplay. you can feel how he shakes on top of you while he's trying his hardest to stay calm. yet he can't help but feel so many emotions because he's just so in love with you and wanted to savor the moment.

jaehyun thrust into you softly, keeping a slow but steady pace as he got used to your walls hugging him. his focus fell on you as he watched the way his dick got swallowed whole by your cunt, not believing his eyes at the visual. the very scene he wished for had finally been happening before his eyes, and he couldn't feel more thrill and happiness than now.

putting his eyes back on you, jaehyun leaned down to kiss your face as your back arched up to meet his body. your bruised lips once again danced with his as he furrowed his eyes and kissed you ever so deeply. the feelings he put behind the kisses you shared told everything you hadn't known before, but alas, you were scared to think of any change to your relationship.

to the side though, leehan watched the scene go down. he watched how jaehyun pulled out his length so slowly before going back in, just as he had taught him to with his fingers. he watched how your body reacted to the pleasure the boy gave you as you hugged him from below. and he watched how the kisses between you fueled his friend to not stop. to him, all he needed was to watch and that'd be enough. he prefers watching than working anyways.

at that, he pulled out his own cock, moving his hand on it with the speed jaehyun worked you out, keeping quiet to hear all the noises coming out of the two of you. he observed the two of you so closely, feeling even the slightest of changes and following along to the two of you. his precum coated his dick, continuously sliding his hand up and down to the harmonious view between the two of you.

now, with all the time leehan had spent fingering you, the knot in your stomach felt close to coming undone as jaehyun's thrusts got erratic in you. he himself felt close, yet he didn't want to let go of your perfect cunt until he felt you come around him.

"come for me, y/n. please..." the boy pleaded so sweetly against your ears as you whined against his too. leehan chimed in from the sides, telling you to do as the older boy told you to. hearing all the voices had you finally willing to let go, telling the two you are about to come as jaehyun increased his speed with rather sporadic thrusts.

feeling your cum coat his throbbing cock, jaehyun's sense heightened as he pulled out and cummed on your tummy almost immediately. falling on top of your body, the boy breathed down your neck with a spent voice about how good you felt. at the same time, leehan got between your legs to stuff his cock into you.

"don't forget about me."

[fernpetals]

Precious

An extension of THIS ask

More of Yandere John Wick and his dollification-kink

Warning: Stalking, manipulation, hints of infantilization, implied restraining, NSFW, John is soft but dark, tracking,dollification(obviously), a hint of corruption kink

Credit to the GIF owner.

Unedited Piece.

I kind of lost myself with this one. Note that the reader does not understand Russian in this one. So if any of my readers do, I apologise.

Precious. That is what you are to John. He sees you as precious and fragile. Especially if you are a civilian working a regular job. That is the most unfortunate of circumstances for you. Canon John is protective as such. Imagine yandere John—he is paranoid that something or someone is going to hurt you. There is a tracker somewhere in your car, and you are never going to find out. And your phone? He has the right connections—people who have your phone bugged for him.

And most probably, all this happens even before he is ‘officially’ your boyfriend. In his eyes, the proposal is simply a formality, just so that you don’t freak out. 

Once in a relationship, it all turns worse. You don't want to move in with him so soon? It has been a month! His patience is now running thin. This might even be the cause of your first major disagreement or serious fight. If you choose to ignore him after that, even for a day, you are only making it worse for you. Suddenly, your home is broken in, thrashed or suddenly, you are locked out of your own home. The lock just wouldn’t open and it’s late at night. But either way, you don’t need to fear, John is just a call away. Or just happens to have been on his way to your place, to apologise, of course.

Sadly, this is just the beginning of manipulation and gaslighting.

Once he has you under his roof, there is no going back. Isn’t it strange? Some of your bathing and beauty products are already lined up in his bathroom cabinet.

 “I bought them just in case you decided to stay for weekends. I was thinking of inviting you over.”

It is reasonable but you can see through it. Anyone can—he is trying to ease you into living with him. It’s harmless in your eyes, only if you knew how far he has gone and is willing to go.

John loves it when you put on pretty dresses—your closet is slowly filled with more and more of them. Either it is a dress he has delivered to you, or left on your bed, or he simply appears with a random dress in a bag. 

“Thought it would look lovely on you.” 

It is incredible how he gets the measurement right, even before you both get intimate. It’s like his hands have a mind of their own, mapping your form even through simple touches.

The truth is, you are all in his mind, every touch, every trace is imprinted in John’s mind. It takes him incredible self-control to not have his hands all over you. His throat dries up when he gets to touch you, even if it seems innocent, a squeeze on your shoulder, holding your hand

Expect random trips to a boutique of his choice, he makes you try on as many dresses as you want, and he wants and every time you give him a twirl, he has to remind himself that you both are in public. If he likes a dress a little too much, he will invite you to his lap.

“Aren’t you a pretty doll?” His eyes have the darkness that unsettles you, just for a moment, before you shake it off

John is a gentleman, a true gentleman. A catch really—that is what you firmly believe. At least until you move in with him and the mask begins to fall. 

Suddenly, you realise that you barely have time for yourself, your closet is filled with the dresses he likes the most and you never go out with your friends as often. In fact, it has been a while since you have gone out. You are always rushing home after work because John prefers that you do not stay out till late. When was the last time you had a night out with your friends?

But by the time you come to realise all this, it is too late, you are so deep in his lair, entangled in his web. It is not easy to keep a sane mind with the amount of times his head is buried between your legs, or his fingers or both. And let’s not talk about what a silly mess his manhood thrusting in and out of your slick folds makes you. 

Like Donaka, John too has a corruption kink. You do not know how cruel the world is, you are a precious angel in this hell on earth. He wants to protect you, he will protect you and take care of you, regardless of what you want but he also gets off at your surprised expression when he bends you to a new position while your pleasure-drunk eyes look up at him. Only he will get to see that, of course. 

What would you do without him? You are going to work? He is dropping you, soon, you will see that you do not need to work at all. He is your protector and provider. You genuinely enjoy it? Well, you can continue what you do as a hobby, what is the need to take the pains of going to work every day?

John does not understand that. As I mentioned before, he sees you as something precious and fragile, a sweet doll that belongs to a safe, cosy, soft dollhouse. He makes sure that you have enough sleep, and enough nutrients and that you do not engage in any ‘dangerous’ activity. You do not need to cook, he will happily do that. If you insist on helping, he will let you mix things up, and even stir maybe, but you are staying away from hot oils and knives.

John is also the type who loves to kiss you on the cheeks for some reason, his lips softly touching your skin has a familiar warmth enveloping his heart. Even during intimate moments, he kisses you all over, like his lips tracing your body.

It is perhaps during the passionate, intimate moments that you get to see a glimpse of carefully concealed darkness. The sweet nothings make you blush. he says things in Russian that you have no idea of-

“You are meant to be fucked stupid and sleep soft and cosy in this bedroom, aren’t you? Why even bother stepping out? I have everything here for you.”

“Aren’t you pretty like this? My precious doll, all dressed up for me.”

“You were mine since the day I laid eyes on you.”

“Should keep you here all the time, huh? It’s too dangerous outside.”

“You need me, don’t you?”

“You are mine, aren’t you? All you need is me.”

“I could have just taken you, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything…”

If you do manage to put the dots and confront him someday, he will try to manipulate you and if that doesn’t work and you still want to leave…Good luck. Besides, he will have a good laugh watching you trying to fight him. Might even be condescending and mean about it.

[novaursa]

Legacy (friends at heart)

- Summary: Tywin was the man who saved you from Robert's wrath. He was also the man who doomed you.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Tywin Lannister

- Note: Be aware of unspecified time-jump.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: the others

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @luniaxi @alkadri-layal @butterflygxril @urdxrling

Jon Snow sat at the head of the table, his grey eyes scanning the faces of his siblings. Sansa, regal yet weary, sat to his right, her hands clasped in her lap as she gazed pensively into the fire. Arya, ever restless, leaned back in her chair, idly twirling the point of a knife against the table’s surface. Bran, seated at the far end, looked calm but distant, his eyes fixed somewhere beyond the room, as if seeing things none of them could.

The weight of their discussion pressed heavily on all of them.

“How did they get through the Wall?” Arya asked, her tone filled with disbelief. “The Wall has stood for thousands of years. It was supposed to be impenetrable.”

Jon exhaled, his jaw tightening as he looked toward Bran. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

Bran, sitting unnervingly still, finally spoke. His voice was soft but carried an unsettling certainty. “The Wall was not built to last forever. The magic that held it is ancient and fragile. Something… someone… broke it.”

Sansa frowned, her brows furrowing. “If the Wall has fallen, then we’re truly out of time. Winter is here in full force, and now the dead march freely.”

There was a heavy pause, the crackle of the fire the only sound in the room.

“I wish Mother and Father were here,” Sansa said softly, her voice breaking the silence. “I wish they could see us together like this. They would have known what to do.”

Jon’s expression softened at her words, his dark eyes filled with unspoken emotion. “They would have,” he agreed quietly. “And so would she.”

Arya glanced at Jon, catching the shift in his tone. “Y/N,” she said, her voice tinged with curiosity. “How is she? You’re the one who saw her last.”

Jon hesitated for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. “She’s... the same as she always was,” he said finally. “Strong. Fierce. But…” His voice trailed off as he looked into the fire, his expression clouded. “There was something heavier about her. It’s been years since she’s been here, and I think she carries that weight with her.”

Arya’s gaze softened as she set the knife down, her fingers brushing against the table’s edge. “The last time I saw her was at High Heart,” she said, a faint smile playing at her lips. “She arrived on the back of a dragon.”

Sansa glanced toward Arya, her own expression softening. “I last saw her at Joffrey’s wedding,” she murmured, her voice heavy with memory. “She tried to keep me close, but there was nothing she could do. It wasn’t safe.”

Jon looked between them, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips. “She never stopped trying to protect us.”

Arya’s voice was quieter now, her gaze fixed on Jon. “Do you think she’s happy? With her new family?”

Jon nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “She has two sons now. Damon and Maelor. She loves them fiercely.”

At the mention of Damon and Maelor, Sansa’s expression warmed. “She always wanted a family of her own. She deserves that.”

There was a pause before Arya leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing. “Do you think she ever misses us?”

Jon’s lips pressed into a thin line as he considered the question. “She does,” he said finally. “I know she does.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of their shared history hanging in the air. Bran, who had been quiet for most of the conversation, finally spoke, his voice calm but certain.

“You’ll see her again, Jon,” Bran said, his gaze fixed on his brother. “One more time.”

Jon turned toward Bran, his expression unreadable. “What do you mean?”

Bran’s gaze seemed to pierce through him. “You’ll see her again before the end.”

The cryptic nature of Bran’s words left the room feeling colder, the fire’s warmth doing little to chase away the chill that had settled over them. Jon held Bran’s gaze for a long moment before finally looking away, his thoughts his own.

Sansa sighed softly, her voice breaking the tension. “We should rest. There’s much to do tomorrow.”

Jon nodded, his jaw tightening as he rose from his seat. “You’re right. But this isn’t over. We’ll figure this out.”

As the others began to leave the hall, Jon lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on the fire. The memory of the woman who had raised him, the woman who had been his mother in every way that mattered, weighed heavily on his heart. No matter what came next, he knew Bran’s words would linger with him.

“One more time,” he murmured to himself, the flames casting shadows across his face.

The night was blacker than pitch, with no moonlight to pierce the endless winter darkness. A brittle wind swept through the craggy terrain surrounding Casterly Rock, howling through the narrow passes and scattering dry snow across the frozen ground. Beric Dondarrion dismounted his weary horse, his breath visible in the icy air as he surveyed their makeshift camp.

“Here,” he said gruffly, his one remaining eye scanning the area. “It’ll do for tonight.”

The others in his small company, five in total, nodded silently, their movements stiff from days of hard travel through the frostbitten landscape. Thoros of Myr dismounted as well, his red robes standing out starkly against the snow. He adjusted the sword strapped to his waist, his usually jovial demeanor replaced by a grim focus.

“The cold gets into your bones,” Thoros muttered, rubbing his hands together before pulling a flask of firewine from his belt. “A drink might keep us warm, eh?”

Beric shot him a look. “Save it. We’ll need your wits about you if anything finds us out here.”

Thoros smirked faintly, his weathered face lined with exhaustion. “What could be worse than what we’ve already seen?”

“Plenty,” Beric replied darkly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

One of the other men, a young scout with a face partially obscured by a scarf, began gathering sticks from the sparse brush nearby. “Should we light a fire?” he asked hesitantly, his voice muffled.

Thoros glanced at Beric, who frowned but nodded. “A small one. We’ll need it if we’re to keep from freezing.”

As the scout worked to kindle a flame, Beric crouched low, examining the map he had spread out on a rock. The flickering light of the fire illuminated his face, highlighting the scarred flesh and the tired determination in his lone eye.

“How much farther?” asked Lem Lemoncloak, his gruff voice cutting through the quiet as he tightened his cloak around himself.

“Half a day’s ride, maybe less,” Beric replied, tracing his finger across the map. “Casterly Rock isn’t far, but the roads are treacherous.”

Thoros crouched beside him, taking a swig from his flask before offering it to Beric, who shook his head. “Do you think they’ll even let us through the gates?” Thoros asked, his tone skeptical. “Lannisters aren’t exactly known for welcoming the likes of us.”

“They’ll let us through,” Beric said firmly. “Lady Y/N will see to it.”

Lem scoffed, leaning against a tree. “And you’re so sure she’ll even remember us? It’s been years since High Heart. She’s a Lannister now more than a Targaryen—married still to the man who all but destroyed her family.”

Beric’s gaze hardened. “She hasn’t forgotten what she saw. None of us have.”

There was a moment of silence, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. The memory of the visions Y/N had witnessed at High Heart—the endless night, the armies of the dead, the dragons circling above—was seared into their minds. They had followed her then, believing she was key to what was coming. Now, they sought her out again, hoping to lend their swords to the fight they knew was inevitable.

The fire crackled softly as Thoros leaned back, staring into the flames. “That dragon is with her,” he mused. “And not just any dragon—a dragon clad in Lannister armor, if the rumors are true. Do you think she’s changed?”

Beric’s expression was unreadable as he replied, “She’s changed because the world has changed. But she hasn’t forgotten who she is.”

“And what about her husband?” Lem asked, spitting into the snow. “Tywin Lannister doesn’t strike me as the kind of man to entertain a band of outlaws.”

“He doesn’t have to entertain us,” Beric said evenly. “We’re not going for him.”

The wind picked up again, sending a chill through the camp. The men huddled closer to the fire, their faces shadowed and tired. For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the flames and the distant howl of the wind.

“You think she’ll even let us fight?” Thoros asked quietly, his voice almost lost to the wind. “She has a dragon. What could we possibly offer?”

Beric turned his gaze toward the horizon, where the faint outline of Casterly Rock loomed in the distance. His voice was steady as he replied, “Faith. Resolve. A sword is only as strong as the hand that wields it. She’ll need us—just as much as we need her.”

Thoros nodded, though his expression remained thoughtful. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

As the fire burned low and the men settled in for the night, the darkness pressed in around them, bringing with it an unsettling quiet. Beric sat with his back against a tree, his sword resting across his knees, as he stared out into the shadows. Somewhere in the distance, a low, guttural sound echoed—a reminder that the night was far from safe.

He didn’t wake the others. Whatever was out there, it wasn’t coming for them yet. But the unease lingered, a constant reminder of the world they now lived in.

The night passed slowly, the fire burning down to embers as the men kept watch in turns. Morning was little more than a pale night light barely breaking through the heavy clouds, but it was enough to get them moving again.

As they mounted their horses and set out toward Casterly Rock, the wind carried with it the faintest scent of smoke—an omen, Beric thought grimly, of the battles yet to come.

The warm glow of the hearth cast flickering shadows across the grand dining hall of Casterly Rock, making the dark stone walls seem almost alive. The long oak table was set with an array of dishes—roasted meats, fresh bread, and steaming bowls of hearty stew, a rare luxury in the enduring winter. The room was quiet save for the gentle clatter of cutlery and the occasional laugh from your children.

Damon sat to Tywin’s left, his small hands gripping a spoon as he eagerly dug into his stew. Maelor was seated to your right, his little legs swinging beneath the table as he munched on a piece of bread. You sat across from Tywin, your gaze shifting between your sons and your husband, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

“Slow down, Damon,” you said gently, watching as your eldest son wolfed down his food. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

Damon paused, looking up sheepishly with a smear of stew on his chin. “I’m just hungry, Mother.”

Tywin, seated at the head of the table, raised an eyebrow, his tone stern but not unkind. “Your mother is right. Eat properly, Damon. A future lord must have composure, even at the table.”

Damon straightened in his chair, nodding solemnly as he picked up his spoon with a bit more care. “Yes, Father.”

You hid your amusement behind your goblet of wine, exchanging a knowing glance with Tywin. Despite his strict demeanor, there was a warmth in Tywin’s eyes as he observed his family.

Maelor, meanwhile, was busy tearing his bread into small pieces and dipping them into his stew. “Mother,” he piped up, his voice bright, “when can I ride Viserion?”

You chuckled softly, leaning over to brush a strand of Maelor’s hair from his face. “When you’re older, my sweet. Dragons are not toys.”

Damon, ever curious, chimed in. “But Father rode Viserion, didn’t he? You told me.”

Tywin glanced at you, the faintest twitch of a smile on his lips. “I didn’t ride her. I simply climbed on her back to avoid being eaten by those creatures in the dark.”

Damon’s eyes widened. “That sounds brave.”

Tywin’s gaze softened ever so slightly. “It was necessary, not brave.”

You reached for your goblet again, your eyes glimmering with fondness as you looked at Tywin. “Your father is underselling himself,” you teased lightly. “He’s braver than he admits.”

Tywin gave you a look that was both exasperated and amused, and for a moment, the weight of winter and responsibility seemed to lift from the room.

The conversation turned to lighter topics—Maelor’s eagerness to ride horses, Damon’s growing interest in history, and stories of your youth. Laughter filled the hall, warming the cold air like a fleeting glimpse of summer.

But the warmth was interrupted when the heavy doors to the hall creaked open. A pair of Lannister guards entered, their expressions grim as they approached the table.

“My lord, my lady,” one of the guards said, bowing deeply. “Apologies for the intrusion, but a group of men has arrived at the gates. They claim they’ve come to offer their services to Lady Y/N.”

Your brows furrowed, and you exchanged a glance with Tywin, whose expression darkened slightly. He set his goblet down with deliberate care. “Who are these men?”

“They didn’t give names,” the guard replied. “Only that they’ve traveled far and wish to speak with Lady Y/N directly.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, your mind racing. “How many are there?”

“Five or six, my lady. They seem... weathered. Warriors, perhaps.”

Tywin’s gaze turned to you, his tone firm. “We’ll see them together. I’ll not have strangers wandering into my home without scrutiny.”

You nodded, your expression thoughtful. “Of course.”

Before rising, you turned to your sons, your voice softening. “Damon, Maelor, stay here with the servants. Finish your dinner.”

Damon’s brows knit together in concern. “Are you going to see those men, Mother? Are they dangerous?”

You smiled reassuringly, leaning over to press a kiss to Damon’s forehead. “No, my darling. Stay here with your brother. We’ll be back shortly.”

Tywin stood, his presence commanding as he adjusted his cloak. You rose beside him, brushing your fingers over Maelor’s hair as you passed. “Eat your stew,” you told him gently. “We won’t be long.”

As the guards led you out of the hall, the laughter and warmth of the meal seemed to fade, replaced by the chill of winter seeping through the castle walls. Your mind buzzed with questions as you made your way toward the gates. Whoever these men were, they had chosen a perilous time to make their journey.

And as always, Tywin’s keen gaze missed nothing. “You have an idea of who they might be,” he said quietly, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You glanced at him, your expression unreadable. “Perhaps,” you murmured. “But we’ll know soon enough.”

You stepped into the cold night air, the stars barely visible through the dense clouds, as you prepared to meet the unexpected visitors.

The chill of winter clung to the courtyard of Casterly Rock, the snow crunching beneath boots as Tywin and you stepped into the open space. Torches lit the area, casting low light on a group of riders standing with their horses near the gate. The wind carried the faint scent of frost and the sea, the air biting against exposed skin.

Your gaze immediately locked onto the group of men, their weathered faces illuminated by the torchlight. There was something familiar about them—the way they stood, the way their eyes scanned the courtyard with quiet vigilance.

And then your breath hitched as recognition struck. Beric Dondarrion stood at the forefront, his one-eyed gaze fixed on you, his battered armor bearing the marks of countless battles. Beside him, Thoros of Myr held the reins of his horse, his red priest’s robes looking as worn as the man himself. Others stood behind them, cloaked figures with hardened expressions and the quiet confidence of those who had seen too much of war.

“Beric,” you breathed, stepping forward before you could think better of it.

Beric inclined his head, his voice gravelly but warm. “Lady Y/N.” He glanced at Tywin, then back at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. “It’s been some time.”

Tywin’s gaze darted to you, and his tone was cool as he spoke. “You know these men?”

You nodded, your voice steady despite the flood of memories. “Yes. These are the men I rode with in the Riverlands. When I was… missing, all those years ago.”

Tywin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable, though you caught the faintest flicker of something—irritation, perhaps jealousy—in his eyes. “You never mentioned any men,” he muttered, his tone low but unmistakably pointed.

You glanced at him, your brow arching slightly. “There wasn’t much time to recount every detail, Tywin,” you said evenly. “But yes, I owe my life to them. They sheltered me after wounds from riding Viserion started to get worse.”

Beric stepped closer, his gaze flicking between you and Tywin. “We came to offer our aid, my lady. The Long Night is here, and we remember what you told us at the High Heart. What we saw.” He glanced at Thoros, who nodded solemnly. “We believe it’s time to fulfill that promise.”

Tywin’s expression remained impassive, though his eyes betrayed his calculating mind. “And what promise would that be?”

Thoros of Myr spoke this time, his voice deep and steady. “To stand against the darkness, Lord Lannister. To fight for the living.”

Tywin’s gaze sharpened. “A noble sentiment, but not one I take at face value. You come uninvited to my gates in the dead of winter, claiming allegiance to my wife. What exactly are you offering, and what do you expect in return?”

You placed a gentle hand on Tywin’s arm, your voice softening as you spoke. “They’re here to help, Tywin. They’re not our enemies.”

His gaze flicked to your hand, then back to Beric, his jaw tightening slightly. “Help,” he repeated, the word laced with skepticism. “And how do a handful of men plan to help against creatures we’ve barely managed to hold at bay?”

Beric’s one good eye met Tywin’s unwaveringly. “We’ve faced them before, my lord. And we’ve lived to tell the tale. You may find we’re more useful than you think.”

There was a tense silence as Tywin considered Beric’s words, his mind weighing every possibility. Finally, he inclined his head, though his tone remained cold. “We’ll discuss this further inside. For now, you and your men will be fed and given quarters. I trust you’ll behave accordingly.”

Beric nodded. “We’ll not give you reason to regret it.”

Tywin turned on his heel, his cloak billowing behind him as he began walking back toward the castle. You lingered for a moment, your gaze meeting Beric’s. “Thank you,” you said quietly. “For coming.”

Beric offered a faint smile. “It’s the least we could do, my lady.”

You gave a small nod before following Tywin, who was already a few paces ahead. His silence was heavy as you walked, and you could feel the unease radiating from him.

When you reached the castle’s inner halls, Tywin finally spoke, his tone clipped. “I don’t trust them.”

You sighed, glancing at him. “I understand. But they’ve earned my trust, Tywin. They’re good men.”

His gaze flicked to you, his expression unreadable. “Good men or not, they’re an unknown variable. And I don’t like surprises.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm to stop him. “I wouldn’t have survived without them. They helped me when I was lost, when I was vulnerable. That has to mean something.”

Tywin’s eyes softened slightly, though his jaw remained set. “I don’t doubt their past actions, but their presence here complicates things. We’ll see if they’re as honorable as you believe.”

You gave him a faint smile, your hand lingering on his arm. “Thank you for allowing them to stay.”

His gaze held yours for a moment before he nodded curtly. “Don’t thank me yet. This isn’t a courtesy—it’s a test.”

You couldn’t help but smile despite his tone, knowing that beneath his guarded exterior, Tywin’s decision to allow Beric and his men to stay was, in its own way, a gesture of trust in you.

The soft glow of the torches lit the chamber where Tywin Lannister sat at the head of a long table. The room was quieter now, with the bustling noise of Beric’s men settling into their quarters fading into the background. The air was warm, unusually so for the middle of the relentless winter. Across from Tywin sat Beric Dondarrion and Thoros of Myr, their rugged appearances stark against the polished surroundings of Casterly Rock.

Tywin’s gaze was sharp, his presence as commanding as ever, as he leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands on the table. “Your men have been given food and shelter, but I expect discipline. My castle does not tolerate disruptions.”

Beric inclined his head, his expression neutral but respectful. “You have my word, Lord Lannister. My men understand where they are and the gravity of the times.”

Thoros took a swig from a flask he’d kept at his side, his eyes scanning the room. “You’ve got a strange warmth here, my lord,” he remarked, his deep voice tinged with curiosity. “Unusual for such a winter.”

Tywin’s expression didn’t change, but his tone carried a measured edge. “It’s not unusual when you understand the cause. There are two dragons sleeping beneath this castle, warming the Rock with their presence.”

The room fell silent, the weight of Tywin’s statement hanging in the air. Thoros set his flask down, his brow furrowing. “Two?” he repeated, his tone quieter now, almost reverent.

Beric leaned back slightly, his one good eye studying Tywin closely. “So it’s true, then. Not one, but two dragons sleep beneath your home.”

Tywin met Beric’s gaze, his voice steady. “You’ve heard correctly. The larger of the two is Viserion, my wife’s dragon. The smaller one hatched inside Dragonmont years ago from one of Viserion’s eggs.”

Beric’s lips pressed into a thin line as he exchanged a glance with Thoros. “And the second dragon—has it bonded with anyone?”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Not yet. It’s young, temperamental, and untested. But it remains here, under my control.”

Thoros chuckled softly, though there was no humor in his voice. “Control is a fragile thing, especially when it comes to dragons. They answer to no one unless they choose.”

Tywin’s gaze sharpened. “You misunderstand. I don’t need to command it. Its presence alone is enough to deter threats. Dragons are weapons, and I wield them as I would any other.”

Beric leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “Weapons they may be, but they’re also fire made flesh. They’re alive, with wills of their own. Do you believe you can truly keep them beneath the Rock forever?”

Tywin’s jaw tightened, though his expression remained impassive. “The dragons are not your concern, Dondarrion. They serve my purposes, nothing more.”

The anxity in the room grew thick as Beric studied Tywin carefully, his gaze unwavering. “I don’t mean to question your methods, my lord. But the fire beneath your castle is a reminder of what’s at stake. If the Long Night has taught us anything, it’s that we cannot take such power for granted.”

Tywin leaned back slightly, his cold green eyes never leaving Beric’s face. “I don’t take anything for granted. That’s why I’m still here, holding this castle, while others crumble.”

Thoros chuckled again, this time with a hint of warmth. “And yet, it’s the dragons that make this place a haven in the dark. The warmth, the life—it’s not entirely your doing, Lord Lannister.”

Tywin’s lips twitched into something resembling a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps not. But I know how to use the tools at my disposal. That’s the difference between survival and ruin.”

The room grew quiet again, the crackle of the torches the only sound as Beric considered Tywin’s words. Finally, he nodded slowly. “You’ve prepared well, Lord Lannister. But preparation only takes us so far. When the true storm comes, we’ll see if even dragons are enough.”

Tywin’s expression hardened, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “Dragons are enough, as long as they’re wielded wisely. And here, they are.”

Thoros picked up his flask again, tipping it toward Tywin in a mock toast. “Then let’s hope your wisdom holds, my lord. The Long Night is not kind to those who falter.”

Beric rose from his seat, inclining his head toward Tywin. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Lannister. We’ll do what we can to aid you in the days ahead.”

Tywin stood as well, his gaze cool and assessing. “See that you do. You’ve been given a chance to prove your worth. Don’t waste it.”

As Beric and Thoros left the chamber, the weight of their words lingered in the air. Tywin remained standing, his mind already working through the implications of their conversation. The warmth of the dragons beneath the Rock was a source of power, but it was also a reminder of the unpredictable forces at play in the world—a world growing darker with each passing day.

The cold, dark void of the endless winter stretched across Damon’s dreamscape like a suffocating shroud. Snow blanketed the ground, heavy and unyielding, as he wandered through an unfamiliar forest. The towering trees loomed above him, their skeletal branches twisting into grotesque shapes against the starless sky. The air was heavy, thick with an unnatural stillness that pressed against his small frame.

Damon's breath came in shallow gasps, his feet sinking into the snow with each hesitant step. His heart pounded in his chest, the only sound in the oppressive silence. Somewhere in the distance, faint whispers danced on the icy wind. They were unintelligible but sinister, wrapping around him like tendrils of shadow.

“Mother?” Damon called out, his voice trembling. “Father?”

No answer came, only the rising chill that gnawed at his skin. The whispers grew louder, now resembling mocking laughter. Fear rooted him in place as a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness. At first, it was unrecognizable—a towering form cloaked in swirling blackness. Then the shadows receded slightly, revealing Tywin’s face, his piercing green eyes devoid of life, staring at Damon with an unseeing gaze. Blood trickled down from a gaping wound in his chest, staining the pristine snow at his feet.

“Father!” Damon screamed, his small hands reaching out, but Tywin's figure crumbled into ash before his eyes, the wind scattering it into nothingness.

“No, no, no!” Damon’s cries echoed in the void, but they were swallowed by the darkness. He spun around, searching for something, anything, to ground him. His mother’s voice—soft, soothing—called his name from somewhere far away.

“Damon...”

The sound filled him with fleeting hope, and he ran toward it, the snow beneath his feet now feeling like ice-cold quicksand. Each step grew heavier, the effort immense, but he pushed forward. The voice grew louder, clearer, until he saw her. Y/N, his mother, stood a few paces away, her silver hair gleaming even in the bleakness of his dream. Relief washed over him.

“Mother!” he cried, rushing toward her.

But as he approached, her form shifted. Her warm, comforting expression twisted into one of pain and terror. She reached out to him, blood dripping from her fingers, before her body collapsed to the ground. A shadow passed over her crumpled figure, and Damon’s eyes snapped upward to see a monstrous spider, its grotesque legs spanning the entire forest. Its countless, soulless eyes glimmered like dark stars as it descended upon her, its fangs dripping with venom.

“No!” Damon screamed, his voice breaking. He tried to run to her, but the ground beneath him gave way, and he plummeted into a pit of darkness. His mother’s scream echoed in his ears, merging with the guttural growls of unseen creatures.

He fell endlessly, surrounded by whispers, laughter, and the sound of snapping jaws. Just when he thought the darkness would consume him entirely, a thunderous roar shook the void.

Viserion.

The she-dragon’s roar shattered the oppressive silence and chased away the darkness, her powerful cry like a beacon of light in the nightmare. The shadows recoiled, retreating into the void as Damon felt himself pulled upward, the chill replaced by warmth and the suffocating stillness lifting.

With a start, Damon’s eyes snapped open, his small body drenched in cold sweat. His chest heaved as he sat up in his bed, his heart hammering against his ribs. The faint glow of moonlight filtered through the frosted window, and the familiar warmth of the castle walls slowly brought him back to reality.

Another roar echoed in the distance, fainter this time but unmistakable. Viserion’s presence seemed to reassure him, her cry a reminder that she was near, guarding them.

Damon’s wide, frightened eyes darted around the room, settling on Maelor, who was fast asleep in the bed beside him, his small form rising and falling peacefully under the blankets. Damon swallowed hard, his throat dry, as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He clutched his knees to his chest, trembling as the vivid images of his dream lingered in his mind.

“Mother... Father...” he whispered, his voice shaking.

He couldn’t shake the sight of their lifeless forms or the monstrous spider that had loomed over them. The fear gnawed at him, but deep inside, a spark of resolve flickered. He couldn’t let those nightmares become reality.

Outside, the faint cry of the dragons echoed once more, a comforting sound that kept the darkness at bay.

[my-mind-mansion]

Alastor sleep aid/cuddles

My FIRST post!!

As you tossed and turned restlessly in your bed, you lost track of how long you’ve attempted to fall asleep. You rolled over to check the time. 4 am. Your mind was racing and your eyes were wide open. That embarrassing thing you did 5 years ago. That comeback you should’ve used in that argument. That thing your mother said when you were 12 that stuck with you forever. You groaned in frustration and sat up. What was the point of even trying to sleep now? I guess I can pull another all nighter.

As you attempted to get out of bed, you suddenly felt a familiar presence. “Alastor?” You asked aloud. You knew he was there; probably hiding in your closet or a dark corner. “Come out.” You chuckled. He clicked your lamp on so you could see him smiling at you. “Why are you still awake, my dear?” He asked softly.

You sighed and fell back onto your bed. “I couldn’t sleep.. AGAIN.” You expressed your frustration. He gave a little laugh before sitting down on the bed next to you. “Well, I bet I could help you fall asleep.” He said boldly, his usual confidence apparent. You laughed at him. “Appreciate the offer, but I don’t think so.” You said as you rolled over, facing the wall.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?” As he reached for the radio on your nightstand, you rolled your eyes. He turned it down to the quietest it could go while still being heard. “I always find that my radio helps me fall asleep.” He said as the static of the old song played in the background. “Well I’m not you, and I won’t be able to sleep.” You scoffed as you rolled back over to face him. “We’ll just see about that.” His smile grew as he slid off his shoes.

You observed him quietly. What was he doing? He carefully placed his monocle on your nightstand. You’d never seen him without his old-timey accessory. Your eyes widened as he laid down next to you in bed. Is he gonna sleep in my room tonight??

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. You gasped. He’s being an asshole. He’s gotta be… but you didn’t care. You needed the comfort, and Alastor’s presence was most-definitely comforting if you were on his good side.

Your eyelids already started becoming heavy as he pulled the blanket over the both of you. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his chest. “Already getting comfortable I see.” He remarks, probably wearing a shit-eating grin. You didn’t care. You didn’t care that he was only doing this to prove you wrong. You were exhausted.

You melted in his arms. A man with his charisma was enough to break down all your walls. Deeeep breath. Peaceful sigh. Why were you having trouble sleeping again? You couldn’t remember. You rubbed your two feet together as your body became heavy. He was warm and his arms were wrapped around you like a python. The Radio Demon’s embrace was heavenly, as ironic as it sounded. It was the truth.

Since he considered you a friend, he made sure you felt safe and protected with him. He held you like you were something precious, like you were as fragile as a porcelain doll. He held you like you were important to him.

“Do you like having your hair played with?” He asked softly. “Mhm..” you cooed. He ran his clawed fingers through your hair and gently scratched your scalp. Heavenly. He hummed along to the song that was playing on the radio. You could feel the gentle vibration of his voice as your head was still resting on his chest.

The feeling of someone holding you was comforting, especially since Alastor has never acted like this with you before. You had to admit that your eyelids were getting too heavy to keep open. You sighed in annoyance. “You were right.” You admitted, half-lidded. “Oh? Was I now?” You could feel his ego spike as he spoke. You buried your face in his chest and groaned in irritation. He laughed. “Hey, don’t be like that. I’ll still make sure you rest well tonight.” He said softly as he rubbed your back.

You could feel your face getting hot. It was really nice receiving all of this attention, especially from him. You hugged him tighter and nuzzled your face into his bowtie. “Thank you.” You said before finally closing your eyes. You could still hear the radio. “Goodnight, sweetheart!” He clicked the lamp off. All was cozy and dark. The last thing you heard before falling asleep was Alastor’s warm humming.

[bisnes-socks]

I’ve seen these two dudes Karija and Bojan (i think they’re in a band and are from Sweden and Slovakia idk sry) on my dash a lot recently, and I think they make a really hot couple 👀🫦🔥 (I saw lots of hearteyes and Kaerija licking Bohan and groping his butt and calling Bohan his fire and water and love and baby etc so I’m assuming they are??)

I think you might ship them, so can you please share your top 5-10 roman empires about these two that would immediately make a newbie shipper like me fall deeper and then I’d never be free of them again??

Omg I didn't know other people knew about K£$¤£$¤rij£$¤ and Bohan!!!!!!!!! You are right, they are a hot couple and engaged to be married actually!!! 💖💖💖

Did you know that they met in Liverpool during Eurovision, where Bojan basically took it upon himself, as his own personal mission, to protect Jere (that's Kaeaerijae's real name in case you didn't know), who was the favourite to win, from the insane attention he was getting? Did you know he ignored his own interviews and responsibilities and band mates to spend time with Jere? Did you know that when Jere didn't win, Bojan never left his side? Did you know that? Because not a day has gone by in my life since that I haven't thought about Liverpool.

And in that vein, Bojan's steadfast faith in Jere and the admiration he has for him is unreal to me. Unreal. The way he calls him king. The way he posts about Jere's achievements, his awards, his new music, just about him. The way he believes in Jere is like... something everyone deserves but not everyone gets to experience and it's so beautiful 😭 And then every time Bojan comes to Finland and Jere is his only focus and Bojan is Jere's only focus and suddenly they act so ...??????????????? Hello??????

And then sometimes. SOMETIMES. THAT ONE TIME. WHEN BOJAN'S SUOMI ENERGY SOMEHOW GOT HIM AND HE POSTED THIS. ON MAIN?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!? The fact that the hug happened was bad enough but this post???????????????????? UNPROMPTED. Because he missed Jere. Literally who does that?? Am I a bad friend because I've literally never done that??? Or is bojere an unrealistic standard???

(Also literally every single second of Ruisrock. Ruisrock keeps me up at night. What was that. What was it. Take me back there.)

AND DID YOU KNOW THEY WENT ON HOLIDAY TOGETHER. AND THEN BOJAN FOLLOWED JERE TO FINLAND. BECAUSE THOSE TWO WEEKS ADDED TEN YEARS TO MY LIFE.

Ahem. So. I think I simultaniously mentioned like less than five actual Roman empires but also referred to almost every single thing they do, so in conclusion: they ARE my Roman empire. Hope this helps 💖💖💖

[cokoweee]

COKO- DLKJFKADHKFDAKFHADFDSFDSKJFDKLFDHAK

COKO.

Youuuuu magnificent artist you-

This update- .... THIS FRIGGIN' UPDATE-

LET'S BEGIN. First off- THIS IS GORGEOUS. It amazes me how uniform and clean your art can be- while also being whimsical and naturally flowy. The shades of purples just add the perfect touch of depth and life- And then the contrast of the gray with the characters and the white of the snow and smoke?- AMAZING.

Next.

Despite Donnie's brain becoming his worst enemy right now, he's still pushing past it to make sure Kendra's okay and not accidentally harming herself. Her being both drunk and sickly, he's making sure to keep an eye on her like a good boyfriend would.

With this exchange we also hear that Kendra's fever had come back hours ago during the party- This poor girl can't get a health break if her life depended on it. :(

I love that even though Donnie has indeed grown in terms of emoting and feeling again, he still has those classic deadpanned lines. When I read his first line in this panel, it was deadpan. (I think his expression also hints at this haha).

Kendra continues on for a bit about how the alcohol helps her to forget. But with all the years that she has been drinking, it NEVER WORKS. "You always remember though.." But then, after saying such a fact, she immediately contradicts herself stating emphatically "..I know that for sure I for one WON'T." Perhaps it's Big Mama's drinks flowing through her system that makes her think she definitely won't remember what happened. "I'll forget yesterday.. today.."

And then Donnie asks the question every fan is DYING to know the answer to:

"Is that why you did it?"

When Kendra kissed Donnie- was she somewhat in control of her actions? Was there feeling and connection smothered deep underneath the waves of alcohol? Was the drink poisoned? Did it mess with Kendra specifically to make her kiss him?

DOES SHE TRULY LOVE HIM?

Donnie is physically shaking with anticipation, anger, mourning, all the feelings he desperately doesn't want to feel. he begins to interrogate Kendra on why she did it. GET SOME ANSWERS. Prove him he's wrong.

"Big Mama made you do it, right? That's why you want to forget it..."

And then Kendra drunkenly but simply replies, "Do you want me to remember it?"

And what's Donnie's response? Will he yell at her to "JUST FORGET IT-" and storm off? Will he go silent and try to weasel his way out of all these emotions flying high in the air and in his heart?

No. He does the unexpected. He tells her straight out- "I WANT YOU TO REMEMBER OUR FIRST KISS." He says it with such emphasis, such passion and gusto, that it completely takes Kendra by surprise... And then, just as Donnie admits his true feelings, he freezes and backtracks. "Ah- Wait-" It's terrifying to tell someone such heartfelt emotions you have for them. It's terrifying because you have no idea if you'll be accepted or rejected. "I mean- Scratch what I said!" (I can't give you an opening to hurt me- I can't be vulnerable with you- I can't I can't I can't)

After Donnie speaks, Kendra begins to move her hand closer to his. Not enough to touch- but extremely close. She is slowly but steadily showing him to not be afraid of her. Don't be afraid of feeling. I won't hurt you.

(ALSO HER NAILS?? LIKE BRO?? THEY LOOK SO GOOD WHAT THE SHELL-)

... And then her nose ruins it. XD (Seriously, honey, GO INSIDE IT'S COLDER THAN A SNOWMAN'S CORE OUT THERE.)

Now we see Donnie immediately and instinctively protecting his mate friend- handing her his own shirt to keep her warm in the chilly air. Forget their earlier conversation- she's still sick, and her health is priority over some dumb dumb feelings.

Walking back into the hotel room to hopefully find more medicine for his sick girlfriend, he grips down on his wildly wagging tail, once again trying to mask over the fact that he's never been happier in his life. We also can't see his expression very well throughout these panels- if not at all. I really like this. It's almost as if when you can't see him, he's forcefully disassociating, not allowing anyone, (including the reader) to see what's going through his mind and heart.

And when Donnie leaves, Kendra watches him. <3 And then not long after...

... She joins him inside.

DKLFJADKFHAHFKHDSKFH

COKO THIS UPDATE- THIS UPDATE-

You did what so many tv shows and movies and fics don't. HAVE THE TWO LOVE INTERESTS TALK ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS without any need for intimate touching, kissing, etc. They just stand in the cold and talk it out.

.. AND I LOVED IT. :)

You did an amazing job on this update, dude. Seriously. This was some really good dialogue and writing and art and I loved every second of it. :)

Good luck with the next chapter thingy! You got this!

Remember to drink water and see what the sun looks like!!

~ Melissa

OKAY IVE GOT TWO OF YALL WITH LONG ASKS SO I GOTTA SPACE EM OUT

So with that line “you always remember though” was meant to be read with the you emphasized but my jittery brain was blanking last night. Seeing it now that I’m awake I’m glad I left it like that cause she doesn’t know if she’ll forget or not.

Donnie without anything in his system, no voices to hear, makes him really start to slip up. Do things, say things without fully planning it through. His hearts being plastered on his sleeve rather than staying where it can’t be ripped away.

I left the update pretty bare/practically empty of any thoughts the two are having. If I showed them these panels would be stuffed to hell but yall are filling in the blanks nicely. You and Kiku have your analysis, lil bird pickings of updates and it always get me goofy happy agegrgquahahhe

Also I’m grabbing a bagel, the morning summons

[something-tofightfor]

A Wonderful, Awful Idea / 5

Pairing: Pero Tovar x Female Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 9,438

Summary: You and Pero have talked things through - and it's time to figure out what comes next for you.

For both of you, though, that means being open, honest ... and asking for exactly what you want.

Rating: M/E : This is a smutty one, friends. It's finally happening.

Author's Note:

The end is here, and I cannot thank you enough for the support and interest you've shown in this story. It definitely grew from what I first envisioned it to be, and I'm really happy with the outcome - I hope you are, too. It's always so intimidating to write for a new character, but to know that one of my favorite Pero writers - I'm looking at you, @oonajaeadira - has enjoyed this take on him means a TON.

The title comes from Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

Thank you for reading!

*dividers by @/strangergraphics

You both sat on the couch while you ate, and Pero filled you in on exactly what had happened with the power at the party. 

“Something in the kitchen overloaded the wiring.” He waved his hand in the air, fingers clutching the remnants of a sandwich. “And when they tried to reset that breaker, they tripped the whole building.” He laughed, shaking his head and swearing under his breath. “That’s how it all came back so quickly.” 

“I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious.” He nodded as he chewed. “Did they get pissed at you since you weren’t right there to protect Christina?” 

“No.” He took another bite. “The assignment was never to be right beside her at all times. William and I were further away than her team, and I just happened to be near you.” You didn’t quite think that was the truth; Pero had to have searched for you in order to be that close, since you’d purposely moved almost all the way across the party space. “And I got to where they were as soon as I could to assess the situation. I did my job.” 

“You protected me.” You took a bite of the food he’d gotten you, giving yourself a few seconds to think. “You were there to protect someone else, and you still … You were mad at me, Pero. I didn’t expect …” 

“I did. And I would do it again. I told you that.” He sipped from his cup,  lips wrapping around the straw. “Even upset, I was still worried about you.” Pero balled up the wrapper from his meal and then leaned back against the couch cushions. “I was actually going to pull you to the side at the party and apologize because I acted like an asshole. But you didn’t give me the chance.” He looked past you and his eyes widened. “It’s almost midnight.” 

You looked, too, and with a smile you realized that as soon as the clock struck 12, you could be the first person to wish Pero a Merry Christmas. I wonder if he’s ever had anyone with him for a holiday like this before. “I’m sad we don’t have our hats from the meet and greet.” You looked back at him, grinning. “Santa Pero tucking me into bed on Christmas Eve would be -” 

He groaned, covering his face with both hands as you laughed, reaching over to settle your hand between his shoulders. “You would like that, wouldn’t you.” 

“I would.” Leaning in, you let your mouth hover just above his ear. “I would like that very much, Pero Tovar.” You weren’t used to having to take such a lead with men, but until Pero truly believed that your interest was genuine - and not short term - you had no issue with being a little more forward than usual to get results. Because I don’t think it’ll be this way forever. He just needs to get comfortable.

“I kept your toothbrush.” He looked over at you, a half smile on his lips. “I hoped you’d get  to use it again.” Really? You both sat up and Pero pointed at the hallway. “I’m going to clean up out here, if you need to do anything to get ready for bed.” He stood, reaching out with one hand. “I have one request though.” Arching a brow, you waited for him to continue. “Wait… and let me help you out of those clothes.” 

It took a little while for the two of you to do what you needed to do, but the whole time, your heart was racing. 

You figured he was nervous, too, but you hoped that it was in a good way, Pero’s desire for you outweighing any lingering apprehension he felt about the situation. By the time you made your way into his bedroom, flipping the light switch on and taking a look around the space, you were determined to do whatever it took to put him at ease. It keeps me from getting into my own head, too. 

There were a few photos on the walls - mostly of Pero, Lin and William, but there were a few more, too, that looked like they’d been taken on his phone and printed out. Some of them were scenery, some of them were cityscapes, and you made a mental note to ask him about them - and where they’d been taken. Later. Not tonight. 

His room was cozy, and out of the other places in his home that you’d spent time in, it felt the most like him. It wasn’t just because it smelled like Pero - it also seemed to be the most lived in. “I like seeing you in here.” He appeared in the doorway, and then leaned against it. “It’s unexpected, but I like it.” 

“Do you?” He nodded, eyeing you up and down. I like being in here. “Your bed looks comfortable.” You pointed, leaning back and against the dresser. “Is it?” 

“You’ll find out soon.” Pero stepped forward, his motion smooth and slow, almost graceful. “Before anything happens, I …” He stopped in front of you, lifting one hand to tilt your chin up. “After what I told you earlier, I figured you might have some … concerns.” Oh. The paying for sex. I didn’t … “It’s been months since I’ve done that. I’m careful, and always use protection. And afterward…” He wet his lips. “I get tested regularly, since all of my relationships are short-lived. I haven’t been with anyone since the last time I got results, so …” He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out, holding it up. “I can show you, but -”

“I trust you.” You put a hand at the center of his chest. “And I know you’re going to say that it’s stupid to trust someone with something like that, but I do.” Because trust is important. He looked confused and then the expression turned to acceptance, Pero’s gaze moving over your face. “Anything else?” 

“No.” He paused, and then frowned. “Well, yes.” You smiled at that, giving him a chance to continue. “I might need …” He closed his eyes and groaned. “Just be patient with me, please?” 

“Patient?” He nodded slowly. “Of course, Pero.” But what does that even mean? “Do you need anything else, or are we in here for the night?” He thought for a few seconds and then moved his head from side to side, eyes locked with yours. 

“I only need you.” Inhaling sharply through your nose at the confession, you didn’t even think about it before you leaned in and kissed him, the tips of your fingers curling inward and against the material of his shirt. His hands settled in at your waist to hold you close, and when Pero returned the kiss, he did it with purpose, his full lips moving with yours like it wasn’t a new thing. 

You felt his tongue probing along your lower one and parted them for him, hoping that Pero wouldn’t tease you the same way he had earlier. Seconds later, you got your wish when it slipped past your lips to meet yours, Pero’s fingers digging in and making you sigh. He stopped immediately, breaking the kiss and backing off enough that you saw the wide eyed expression on his face. This must be the patience thing. 

“That was a good noise. Please don’t stop.” You moved your hand as you spoke, sliding it over so that you could begin to undo his buttons. “This shirt is a great color for you.” Breaking eye contact, you watched the motion of your fingers and listened to each of Pero’s sharp inhales as you moved downward. “I can’t wait to see it on the floor.” 

He snorted at that and you were thankful for it, the sound confirming that he wasn’t getting too lost in his own head about what was happening. “I was thinking the same thing earlier tonight about what you are wearing.” He spoke quietly, pulling the bottom hem of your shirt free from where it was tucked in. “But I was also wondering what you have on beneath it.” 

You reached the last button before his waist and then looked back up, biting your lip. “You’re about to find out.” His smile spread slowly, the expression one you weren’t used to seeing him wear. Pero tipped his head to the right and dropped a kiss at the corner of your mouth, hands sliding up and beneath your shirt so that his palms were flush with your skin. 

It was your turn to gasp then, the warmth of his hands comforting. He continued to kiss his way across the lower half of your face, lips skating over your cheek and then toward your ear before dropping down to follow the line of your jaw. Your hands stayed busy, moving lower to the button on his pants and popping it free, which gave you a chance to pull his shirt loose, too, and finish undoing it. 

He groaned when you touched his abdomen, pushing the sides of the shirt apart, and when Pero backed away, there was a wild look in his eyes.”I like this. The … slowness? You are taking your time, and… it is new.” Glancing over his shoulder so that you could see the clock on his nightstand, your eyebrows shot up. Perfect. 

“I’m just enjoying opening my first present.” You wrinkled your nose. “Merry Christmas, by the way. According to your clock, it’s after midnight.” He turned to look, too, and then said your name when he faced you again. 

“Sorry that I am not wearing a bow.” He wet his lips, the flash of his tongue distracting you. “To make this more festive.” 

“You don’t need one.” Using one finger, you prodded at the chain around his neck. “This is shiny enough.” And. “And I think you should leave it on.” That took him by surprise, but Pero quickly agreed, the arch of one eyebrow telling you that he was intrigued by your request. “Help me out here.” You moved your hands to his shirt again, easing it back and over his shoulders. “Let go of me for a second.” 

He did. It only took you moments to remove the silvery fabric, revealing that beneath it, he had on a black v-neck t shirt that was stretched over his chest and shoulders. Holy shit look at him. “What is that look for?” 

“I… you…” Gesturing with one hand, you laughed nervously. “You’re still almost fully dressed, and …” You trailed off as he reached down and pulled the shirt up and over his head, giving you your first real glimpse of skin. 

“There. Now I have solved your problems.” He grinned, scratching at the back of his neck with one hand.

“No, you’ve given me about a million more.” That made him laugh, and when Pero reached for your hand and squeezed it, leading you the few steps toward his bed, you followed. You eyed him as you walked, mapping the way his muscles looked as they moved beneath his skin and the way his unbuttoned pants sat at his waist, hugging his hips. 

“I think,” he started, turning back to look at you and reaching for your shirt, his fingers working the buttons. “That I enjoy you looking at me this way almost as much as I enjoyed the way you spoke to Christina that first night.” He paused, palming the swell of your breast with one hand and then returned to his task. “Would you say the same thing to anyone else that talked about me like she did?”

“Would you want me to?” You were breathless as you spoke, the feeling of his touch and the heat of his gaze making it hard for you to concentrate. “Is that something that I can… oh God, Pero, please just…” You broke off mid-sentence as he finished and began to push your shirt over your shoulders, his hands sliding slowly up your body. “Keep touching me.”

The smile remained on his face as he removed your shirt, the material sliding down your arms and then onto the floor. Instead of putting his hands back on your torso he used them to cradle your face, tilting it so that when he leaned in, your mouth was perfectly lined up with his. “Yes.” He mumbled the words between kisses, one hand siding back to the nape of your neck and the other dropping to your shoulder. “I would want you to.” 

You whimpered at that, wrapping your arms around Pero and stepping forward to press yourself against him. The feeling of his bare chest pressed to your body made you almost dizzy, and when your fingers dug into his back for balance, He grunted, pulling on the strap of your bra and dragging it over your shoulder. 

As much as you wanted to slow things down and savor the first time you went to bed with Pero, you knew that as soon as he removed your bra, there’d be no going back. And that’s fine. It surprised you when he broke the kiss and spun you around, winding his arms around you from behind and then ducking his head to kiss your shoulder. Wait, what is he… 

Pero rocked his hips forward, the hand on your stomach urging you backward while the other one slipped downward, the tips of his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants. Tipping your head back so that you could lean it against his shoulder, you sighed, closing your eyes. He was hard beneath his own pants, the length of him pressed against you, and when you reached for the hand on your belly, guiding it upward, he let you. 

He got the hint - Pero using that hand to paw at your chest, the contrast between his skin and your bra moving against your skin almost distracting you from the fact that his other hand kept moving lower and lower, pushing your pants with it. “Pero, I -” That was all you got out before he kissed you again, the angle not the most comfortable but still welcome, as was the way he bit down on your lower lip before sucking it between his. Fuck, I am lucky. 

He pushed the lace of your bra - one of the ones you saved for special occasions - to the side and then swirled a thumb over that nipple, the motion making your back arch and pushing you into him again. Pero’s mouth moved from yours back down to your shoulder and stayed there, the scrape of his stubbled chin sharp in contrast to the way he touched you elsewhere. But I don’t want him behind me. “What is wrong?” He spoke quietly, turning his head inward and nuzzling against your jaw. “You are stiff.” 

“I want…” You hummed, reaching down to stop the movement of the hand at your waist. “I want to look at you, Pero. I want to see you, not just feel you.” Turning to face him, you nodded at the sight of the confused expression he wore. “We only get this once.” 

You hoped he understood what you meant - that after that night, you’d never get the chance to be together for the very first time again. And I want it to feel personal, not like … not like it’s just something that’s happening. “Whatever you want.” He smiled again, hands gliding down to squeeze your hips. “I cannot wait to see all of you.” 

Taking that as a sign, you reached up and behind you, unhooking your bra and then shrugging out of it before letting it drop to the ground. He watched that, lips parted, and then looked back at you, his palms following the contours of your body as they rose. Yes. Finally. You arched your back again, encouraging him to keep going, and when Pero’s hands finally made it to your chest and he touched you, you moaned, closing your eyes. 

As soon as he heard that, his touch went from light and exploratory to certain, pushing your breasts together as he leaned down and mouthed at your collarbone again. And when he moved lower, you urged him to continue with one hand in his hair, fingers tangled in his locks. 

He took one nipple between his lips and sucked on it before releasing it only to follow that with a few quick flicks of his tongue before switching to the other side. You would have been content to stand there for hours, but Pero straightened up, his eyes blazing as he met your gaze again. “I think it’s time we get into that bed.” He cleared his throat, both hands still stroking over your skin. “Do you want me to turn the lights off?” 

“No.” You answered immediately, flattening one hand against his chest. “Unless that makes you more comfortable.” 

Your answer took him by surprise, but Pero wasted no time walking you backwards the few steps it took you to reach the bed. And when your shins made contact with the frame, he stopped you, both hands moving to the button - and zipper - of your pants, undoing them swiftly. He pushed them down so that you could step out of them, but left your underwear in place. 

You were stunned that you didn’t feel self conscious standing in front of him in so little, because it hadn’t been that way with your previous partners. You sat down on the edge of the bed, looking up at Pero and watching as he put a hand on his hip and stared at you. A few seconds later, his smile widened and Pero reached for his waist, finishing with the zipper and easing his pants down. 

He was wearing trunks, the waistband low on his hips, and the legs stretched tight around his upper thighs. “Wow, Pero.” You licked your lips, head shaking back and forth as you eyed him, lingering on his torso - and waist. “I had no idea you were hiding that under all those clothes.” 

“I could say the same about you.” He reached down, adjusting the elastic over one hip without looking away from you. “Beautiful.” Heat rushed to your cheeks then, and you ducked your head but still heard Pero’s quiet chuckle. “You do not like compliments either, hmm?”

“I’m not used to them coming from you.” Cautiously, you looked back up and put your hands out, waiting for him to take them. “Want to get in here with me?” He nodded, taking a half step forward and standing between your legs. “C’mere, Pero.” 

He leaned down, mouth finding yours again, and the series of events that followed happened almost before you could process it. 

As you kissed, Pero put one knee on top of the mattress and balanced his weight on it, using the forward motion of his body to urge you onto your back. He let go of your hands, sliding one of his beneath your head while he flattened the other palm on the bed, allowing him to hover over you. You moved your hands over his back, exploring the expanse of muscle as it flexed beneath your touch. I can’t believe this is happening. 

When you moved them down to his waist - and then lower, palms curved to follow his contours, Pero growled into your kiss, his hips snapping forward to push his length against the front of your hip. Your fingers curled inward, holding him in place - and Pero took the hint. 

He lowered his body more, grinding against you and letting you feel the weight of him. “Pero we need to move up. I…” Sighing as he paused long enough to breathe - and kiss the column of your throat - you shivered the words out. “I want us to be comfortable, and…” He backed off, giving you an opportunity to resituate yourself - and then he was on you again. 

He straddled you, legs spread wide so that when he leaned forward, he could continue the same motion as earlier. Your hands returned to the same place they’d been before, too, but instead of just touching him, you pushed your fingers beneath the material and held onto him, guiding his hips with skin-to-skin contact for the first time. 

But Pero didn’t kiss your mouth again; instead he worked his way down your throat to your chest, lips trailing along the length of your collarbone before he bit down gently, accompanied by a thrust of his hips. You could feel the cool metal of the chain as it dragged against your skin, your mind trying to focus on that and the feeling of his mouth at the same time - and failing. You were overwhelmed by him, and he’d barely touched you. I haven’t really touched him, either. 

He dragged his tongue over your skin and kissed his way down, drawing one nipple back between his lips before releasing it with a pop. “I could do this all night.” He spoke without moving away from you, the breath from each exhale warm as it hit your damp skin. “But I am impatient, and I’m sure you are, too.” 

He moved off of you and then laid down beside you, stretching out along the length of your body. When you turned your head to look at him, you weren’t expecting him to kiss you right away, his hand laying lightly against your cheek. 

Wiggling your hips, you settled in, heartbeat rapid, even after he backed away. “So I have to be patient, but you get to be impatient? That doesn’t seem fair.” He rolled his eyes, mouth opening to reply - but you didn’t give him the chance to. “Lay back.” He did as you asked, and then you propped yourself up on one elbow, taking him in. 

You were impatient too, but the desire to remind him that you were thinking beyond that night was more important. I need to show him that I want him. Sliding your hand over his stomach, you focused on the skin beneath his navel and above his waistband, fingertips circling over the dark trail of hair there before you moved back up, dragging the edges of your nails along his skin. Pero grunted, gritting his teeth - but didn’t look away. 

You leaned forward and kissed his chest, closing your eyes as you pressed your lips to his skin. You kept your hand moving, too, covering as much of his body as you could without wavering in your attention. There were parts of him that were more sensitive than others - his body jerked when you reached a spot on his side that was about halfway up his ribcage, and he groaned at the feeling of your tongue dragging slowly over the base of his throat, the breath leaving him in a whoosh when you took the chain between your teeth and tugged. 

But when your hand moved back down at the same time you redirected your kisses to the underside of his jaw, Pero stopped you, his fingers closing around yours. “No. Stop.” You raised your head in concern, but he didn’t look angry - just overstimulated. “If you touch me now, I will not make it inside of you.” He swallowed as your eyes widened in surprise. “Next time. I promise you, but … not yet.” 

“Ok, Pero.” You took a deep breath. “I understand.” He squeezed your hand and then released it, and you used it to balance yourself as you lowered your head again, mouth returning to its previous path. Pero’s hand moved almost lazily up your side as you left a trail of kisses across his face, though you avoided his mouth. You lingered at the patch in his beard before turning your head inward and nuzzling against his nose before taking another breath and deciding that if you were in - you were all in. 

When you pressed your lips to the bottom edge of his scar for the first time, Pero’s hold on you tightened, but you didn’t let that deter you. You followed the length of it with your lips, mindful of the fact that he could tell you to stop at any time, but it wasn’t until you softly kissed his closed eyelid - and felt dampness beneath your lips - that you pulled away. “Pero? Is everything… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have -”

“No.” He moved faster than you thought was possible from his position, rolling the two of you over so that you were on your back and he was above you again. “You are … no one has ever…” He couldn’t get the words out, but you understood what he was trying to say. “You are too good for me.” His voice was unsteady, but he kissed you in the pause before he spoke again, mouth gentle. “I do not deserve someone like you after what I -” He needs to stop this. 

“You do, Pero.” Reaching up, you took his face between his hands, forcing him to look at you. “You deserve good things. You deserve to be happy. And all of those people that treated you like shit don’t matter, because the way they were to you says more about them than it does about you. And I know this is entirely too fucking much for the first time with someone, but you need to hear it. If I have to keep reminding you that that’s the truth, I’ll do it every single time we’re together, if that’s what it takes.” 

He was stunned - you saw the surprise in his eyes … but to your relief, he didn’t contradict you. “If you say so.” He gave you a small smile. “Did I ruin it?”

“No.” Biting the inside of your lip, you cocked your head to the side. “You can go ahead and find out just how much you didn’t ruin it if you want.” He looked confused, but after a few moments seemed to understand, shifting back into position next to you and then dragging his hand down the length of your body. “You can touch me, Pero. I -” 

That was as far as you got before he did as you asked. Pero’s eyes went wide as he felt the dampness of the only piece of clothing you still wore, your back arching as you reacted to his touch. “You are … this is…” He looked down, chest heaving as he watched the movement. “Shit.” 

He touched you through the thin material first, two fingers gliding along the outline of you, and when you widened the spread of your legs to give him more room, he took the opportunity to add a third finger and some pressure, his attention still on his hand. But that’s fine, you rationalized as he swirled his fingers in a slow circle. I want him to watch. 

You reached down then, lifting your hips again to push the waistband down and over your thighs. Pero helped you out, tugging them further and exposing you to him for he first time. He slid his hand back up the inside of your thigh, and when he finally touched you, you moaned at the feeling, closing your eyes and pressing your head into the pillow. “Pero.” 

You didn’t recognize the sound of your own voice, but it did something to Pero, who dropped his head, lips latching onto your shoulder while his fingers kept moving. He parted you with two of them, using a third to circle slowly over and over in the space between. It felt incredible, Pero’s touch not at all what you’d expected, and when he widened the circle and extended his fingers down, you curled your toes and opened your eyes - one hand fisting the blankets beside you and the other clamping down against his bare back. 

He slid one finger into you and you rocked your hips forward, Pero replacing lips with teeth as you tilted your chin down, burying your nose in his hair. One finger became two, Pero thrusting them in and out of you slowly. He was slow and methodical, entirely focused on what he was doing - and you couldn’t get enough. 

Widening the spread of your legs even more, you rolled your hips to meet each thrust, mouth open as you took and released quick, shallow breaths. You didn’t even register that he’d released your skin from between his teeth until Pero’s head rose and he spoke your name. “I think you’re ready for me. I hope you’re ready for me, because -”

“Yes. I - ohhh.” He kept his eyes on you as his hand continued to move, and even though it was difficult, you didn’t close yours. You caught the smile he gave you as he watched your reaction, Pero’s lips quirking upward and his eyes darkening. “Need you, Pero.” Reaching down, you touched his wrist, pushing on it gently. “Please.” 

He removed his fingers slowly, and you hummed as they slipped free. “Give me a second.” He brought his hand up, eyeing how slick they were - and then before you had a chance to say anything, he popped them into his mouth, eyes closing at the taste of you. You gasped, but it didn’t cover up the sound of his deep, satisfied groan. Holy fuck, I wasn’t expecting that, I didn’t… 

He rolled away from you, fingers still in his mouth, and then you heard the bedside table drawer open. It’s happening. But Pero stood up suddenly, climbing out of the bed and then tossing a condom toward you. “What are -”

“What do you want?” He glanced down as he spoke, hands at his hips and beginning to push his underwear down. “No, that is the wrong question.” He looked back up, the smile back on his face, though that time, it was more of a smirk. “How do you want this?” 

“I…” You were torn between looking him in the eye and wanting to watch the final bits of his skin come into view. “Pero, I…” He laughed, the sound low, and then stepped out of his underwear, briefly bending over before he straightened up, giving you an unobstructed view at his entire body. Wow. Ok. You wanted to touch him - wanted to know what he felt like in your hand and sliding between your fingers. You wanted to taste him, too, the thought of weight of him against your tongue and the heat of him as he came consuming you. But that’s not happening tonight. 

Pero reached down with the same hand he’d touched you with to wrap his fingers around his length, which distracted you again. Damn him. “Well?” He stroked himself lazily, and you filed the motion away for later, paying attention to the way he held himself and where he squeezed just a little extra. His hands are so goddamn big. “I need to know how -”

“Whatever you’re used to?” You rested one hand on your abdomen, turning your cheek toward the pillow without breaking eye contact. “I want the opposite.” It was yet another risk to ask Pero to consciously choose a different position and approach to sex than he usually did, but you hoped that he understood why you were asking for it - and what you hoped it would signal. “Is that alright?” 

He was surprised by your request, but it didn’t keep him immobile for long, Pero putting one knee on the mattress and climbing back into bed. He reached for the foil square with his free hand and only let go of himself when he moved to open it. “It’s more than alright.” He looked down, and then resituated his hand at his base as he rolled the condom on, nodding his head. “It is a good reminder.” 

He crawled toward you then and leaned over, using the knuckles on one hand to stroke your cheek. “A reminder?” 

“Yes.” Pero stretched out beside you, rolling onto his side and facing you. “That this is not that.” He understands. Pero closed the distance between you, his hand on your side. When he kissed you, it wasn’t quite timid but there was a slight hesitation before he fully committed to it, his full lips slotted with yours before he parted them, urging you to do the same. It’s going to be OK, Pero.

As the kiss deepened, he used the hand on your side to guide your leg into place, positioning it so that your thigh rested atop his hip. You could feel him that way - pressing against you, each shallow flex of his hips increasing the contact. 

“Are you sure?” He spoke between kisses, his damp forehead pressed to yours. “That you want this? With me?” 

“I am.” You nodded, moving your hand from the back of his head to his shoulder. “Are you?” He didn’t speak, but Pero reached between your bodies, his fingers brushing against your center again as he lined himself up. You kept eye contact with him as he inched forward, and were unable to look away, even as he used a slow thrust to push inside of you. Finally. 

You nodded after a few seconds and then Pero rocked forward again, moving his hand to the back of your thigh to pull you closer. “I need a minute.” His voice was strained, and you could see that he was gritting his teeth. “If I move, I -” You kissed him then, interrupting his words and trying to keep your own hips from moving. It’s alright. 

He didn’t need to explain to you, because you understood. You were already tightly wound from the way he’d touched you, and thanks to the way he was holding you open, you knew that once he found a rhythm, you’d be able to come from the friction of your body against his alone. And if I finish quick, he will, too. 

Pero licked into your mouth, tongue dragging over the edges of your teeth, and when he moved his hips, you did, too, meeting his motion. As he picked up speed, the kiss turned sloppier and his grip on your thigh tightened. You threaded your fingers through his hair, gripping it and tugging, mouth hanging open as you lost yourself in him. 

You stopped trying to kiss him back and instead turned your head so that you could pant into his ear, Pero’s cheek pressed against the pillow and each of his exhales hitting your throat. He kept hold of your thigh and lengthened his strokes, slowing down. What is he… 

When he rolled forward, pushing you onto your back, you went willingly, Pero angling his hips so that he could keep moving. But when he pulled all the way out of you you cried out, fingers tightening in his hair and against his shoulder. “Why did you stop?” You gasped the words out, eyes wide open as you stared up at him. “Pero, why did -”

“I did not stop.” He murmured the words, leaning down to kiss you again as he ran the hand on your thigh along your skin. “I paused so I could make us more comfortable.” After sitting up, he reached down with both hands and widened the spread of your legs so that he could kneel between them. You didn’t miss it when his gaze moved over the length of your body, or the way his jaw twitched at the sight of you, Pero’s fingers curling against your thighs. 

“You’re a fucking tease, Pero Tovar.” You covered your face with both hands. “And you know it.” He laughed, the sound low, and then you felt the mattress dip as he shifted, one of his hands releasing your leg. I want to see this. 

Propping yourself up on both elbows, you looked down and watched as he concentrated, eyes moving between himself and you as he re-aligned. Pero’s shoulders rose and fell as he took and released a deep breath… and then he was sliding into you again, the sight of his length disappearing into your body making your eyes close as you collapsed back onto the bed. 

He started with deep, slow thrusts as he leaned forward, hands moving to the blankets on either side of your body. By the time he’d stretched out enough that he could bend his elbows and rest his weight on them, those movements had quickened. He went deeper from that angle, each forward flex of his hips accompanied by a quiet grunt and met with a reflex thrust of your own. 

You flattened one foot on the bed and bent your knee, angling that leg outward while wrapping the other one around his hip again, your heel digging into the back of his calf and urging him even closer - which was next to impossible. As you closed your eyes, you raised both hands and dug your nails into his shoulders, not even trying to conceal the noises you made - and to your delight, Pero didn’t, either. 

You’d remember them forever - the way he grunted and groaned, a quiet snarl escaping his lips when you lifted your hips and met a particularly sudden thrust of his, which was followed by an equally devastating one, his head dropping so that the tip of his nose met the front of your shoulder. He kept it there for the next few minutes, his bedroom filled with the sounds both of you made, but when he spoke your name, pulling it from deep within himself, you forced your eyes open, watching as he raised his head and looked down at you. 

Pero didn’t falter in his movement, and you bit your lip at the way he gritted his teeth, nose wrinkling before he was able to speak again. “You feel incredible.” He swallowed, nodding as he continued. “Fucking perfect.” It was enough to make you shiver, and you knew he caught the motion when he actually smiled, Pero leaning down to kiss you on the mouth. “Will you come this way? Is -”

“Mmhmm.” You closed your eyes and gasped, back arching off of the bed when he swiveled his hips, the length of him buried inside you. “Oh, fuck, Pero.” He switched to shallow thrusts, giving you a chance to collect yourself. “Can you?” 

“Of course.” He licked his lips, nodding. “I am holding back, I -” 

“Don’t.” Don’t you dare. “I don’t want you to.” Moving one hand from his back to between your bodies, you nodded again, flexing your calf muscles. “Come, Pero. Let me feel you.” You dragged your hand over your skin and moved your fingers into place, making sure to graze his skin with the edges of your nails. He looked confused for a second, but when you went lower, spreading your fingers wide enough so that you could feel where he entered you, the look in his eyes changed to one of understanding. “Fuck me like you’ve waited three years to do it, Pero.”

He sped up again, maintaining eye contact for a few seconds before he slammed them shut and tilted his head back. You closed yours, too, sighing. It felt good, the length of him sliding between your fingers before you moved your hand into place, two fingers pressed against your skin and gliding in a slow circle. But before you could find your own rhythm, Pero slowed down again, a growl tearing from his throat. 

“No. Not like this. Not with you.” You opened your eyes, the motion of your hand stuttering - and it stopped when you saw the way he was looking at you. He’s never looked at … oh, shit. Pero’s brow was furrowed, his lips parted, and he was staring at you like you were the only thing he ever wanted to look at again. “Let me watch you.” 

He sunk into you all the way and then paused, rotating his hips in a slow circle. It trapped your hand between the two of you, and Pero’s eyes were molten when he spoke again, voice low and full of need. 

“Let me feel you.” 

He drew his hips back, giving your hand the space it needed to begin moving again. You were hesitant. But when he nodded, arching a brow, you let out a long breath and did just that. 

Starting slow, you circled your fingers, dragging them through your slick and spreading it over your skin. You hummed at your own touch, letting your mind wander to Pero’s fingers earlier, and when he started to move again, gradually increasing his pace to match the motion of your hand, you squeezed your eyes shut and let out a shaky breath. “Pero, it won’t…” You hummed, adding pressure and a little speed. “It’s going to be quick, and -”

“Good.” He leaned down, mouth finding yours briefly. “We have waited too long.” 

You agreed, and that was all you needed to speed up more, touching yourself the way you usually did. Eyes opening again, you found that Pero was still watching you, though his were heavy lidded - evidence of his body’s response to yours. 

As the moments passed, you felt your own body’s response - a heat in your belly, the quickening of your heartbeat, muscles tensing as you got closer and closer to a moment that hours earlier, you hadn’t imagined was possible. “Pero, I -” 

He smiled at you, nodding, and when you let go of him to drop your hand to the mattress, he grabbed for it without missing a beat, linking your fingers together and bringing both of them up next to your head. His grip tightened with your gasp, Pero’s hips flexing forward at the same time you thrust yours upward, increasing the friction. 

It was enough. 

You came with a gasp, fingers stuttering as your muscles clenched around him, Pero’s motion continuing as your toes curled and you squeezed his hand. He mumbled two words - that’s it - and you watched as his smile grew, your own mouth hanging open as you pressed your head into the pillow. Oh my god. 

You cried out as a wave of pleasure coursed through you, the feel of him moving within you prolonging the moment - and then Pero was coming, too, one last sharp thrust burying him as deep as possible as he finished. You felt him as he filled the condom, Pero’s release coming in spurts as your body pulled him in deeper and sent a second wave through you, making you shudder beneath him. Oh, fuck. Oh fuck, I… 

Your hand fell away from your body and Pero’s head dropped again, his breath ragged as he rested his forehead against your shoulder and more of his weight on you. 

Neither of you said anything for almost a minute, and to your surprise, it was Pero who opened his mouth first, head turning inward so that when he spoke, it was against the side of your neck. “I do not want to move.” He sighed and then kissed your skin, lips pressed to your pulse point. “Are you alright? You -” 

“Pero.” Unlinking your fingers, you reached up and dragged them through his hair, pulling the sweat-damp strands away from his face. “I’m more than alright.” He lifted his head to look at you, eyes wide. “And I don’t want to move either, but if we don’t, I’ll fall asleep right here, and that would be messy.” 

His lips twitched into a half smile and before you could say anything, he was kissing you, tongue dipping past your lips and into your mouth. I’ll never say no to this. He kissed you deeply, only breaking it when he needed to breathe… but the smile was still there and his eyes were bright - Pero obviously sated but still alert. “You’re right.” Without saying anything else, he reached down between you and then pulled out, rolling away and laying on his back beside you. 

You missed him immediately, and weren’t able to conceal your gasp at the way it felt to realize that, head turning to the side so that you could look at him. “Pero, I -”

“No.” Turning his head, he winked at you. “Not yet. We will talk when we are done.” 

Ten minutes later, you stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in one of his robes only to find the bedroom empty. 

Your pulse had settled and you felt calmer, though you were still reeling from what had happened between you. You hadn’t stopped smiling while you were in the bathroom - even as you washed your face and brushed your teeth again, the expression had stayed put. And it’ll be there for a long time, too. Because … that was everything I wanted. 

“Are you going to sleep in that?” He spoke from behind you, and when you turned toward the sound, you saw that he was holding two bottles of water, his shoulder pressed against the doorframe. “Because if you are, you are overdressed.” 

He’d only put on his underwear, and you didn’t even try to keep from staring at him greedily, taking in the sight of his almost naked body. “I didn’t plan on it.” You untied the belt and let it drop to the floor, the sides of the robe splitting apart to expose a strip of skin at the center of your body. “If that’s alright.” 

“It is preferred.” He moved closer, holding one of the bottles out to you. “I usually wear nothing to bed.” That was a piece of information you filed away, too, and after draining almost half of the bottle, you shrugged the robe down and over your shoulders before tossing it to the side and getting back into bed - though you climbed under the covers that time. 

He flipped the light switch off and then drank deeply from the bottle before setting it down and taking off his underwear. Even in the low light coming in through the slats in the window blinds, you could see him clearly, watching his outline before he climbed into bed and moved as close to you as he could get. “What were you going to say earlier?” He flattened his hand atop the pillow as he spoke, though he didn’t touch you. 

“I was going to say,” you started as you stroked the length of his bare arm, knuckles dragging along his skin. “That when you just … rolled away? It was … I missed …” Just say it. “It’s so stupid, Pero, but you were there and then you weren’t, and I realized that -”

“It is not stupid.” He moved his hand enough so that he could touch your face, his thumb sliding over your cheek. “I was … abrupt. I will work on that.” He inched closer, his cheek scraping across the pillow. “With you, hopefully.” He blinked slowly, and you felt as he held his breath, waiting for your response. Oh, Pero. 

“We might need a lot of practice.” Biting your lip, you also moved your head closer, though you didn’t break eye contact. “But I’m up for it.” A smile spread slowly across his face, Pero’s eyes widening slightly before he closed them, mouth finding yours in a brief - but tender - kiss. 

“Practice is the only way to improve.” Moving his hand from your face to your side, Pero curled his fingers over your hip. “I hope that tonight was what you wanted it to be.” Is he seriously questioning this? 

“It started out kind of rocky, but yeah, Pero. It was.” You paused, thinking. “It is.” It made your head spin to think about everything that had happened throughout the previous evening - and the weeks leading up to it. But it’s worth it. He’s worth it. “How do you feel about this?”

“About this or about you?” He narrowed his eyes, but then grinned. “Because the answer is the same for both: I feel good. This is what I want.” He kissed you again, nodding. “You are what I want.” 

His direct response caught you off guard. But as the kiss continued, his arm winding around you and pulling your body flush against his as you flattened your hand against his back, you understood that it shouldn’t have. If there was anything that you knew to be true about Pero, it was that when he spoke, the words had meaning. It takes him a lot to get there, though.

The kiss ended and as Pero settled back in against the pillow, he yawned, you not far behind. “It is late.” He sighed, moving his leg so that he could hook it over your calf. “We should sleep.” You agreed - you were exhausted, and the warmth and comfort of being in bed next to him was making you drowsy. 

Instead of replying, you tucked your chin and rested your forehead against his collarbone, closing your eyes. I could get used to this. He kissed the top of your head and you felt when he relaxed, the weight of his arm heavy where it laid against your body. I might already be used to this. 

You began to doze off, but were interrupted by the quiet utterance of your name, Pero’s fingers dancing over your lower back. “Thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me tonight and making me listen to you.” 

“It wasn’t just me.” You didn’t move your head, speaking the words with your lips just above his skin. “Christina was -”

“She put us in there, but it was all you. You said what I needed to hear, and I know you would not have made so much of an effort if you did not mean it.” He kissed you again, that one lingering. “Please don’t stop doing that.” 

You assured him that you wouldn’t, but the steady beat of his heart was lulling you to sleep, and you didn’t even try to open your eyes. We’ll talk more later. 

The following afternoon, you pulled up in front of William and Lin’s, Pero’s fingers tightly laced with yours on the center console. 

He’d woken up before you - and woken you up with his hands and mouth, Pero trailing touches and kisses over every part of your body that he could reach without disturbing you. From there, you’d had each other again - once in the bed and then again after breakfast, Pero pulling pleasure from you with his fingers in the kitchen before leading you into back into his bedroom. 

You’d showered at his place and changed back into your clothes, which made the stop at your house short, leaving you plenty of time to get to your destination. You hadn’t talked much about what came next, or how you’d present yourselves to your friends. But the fact that they know I left with Pero and didn’t come to get my car was probably telling. 

“Pero, we need to talk about something before we go in.” Shifting in your seat, you squeezed his hand. “What will we tell them? They’re not stupid, but -”

“They are not.” He cocked his head to the side, gesturing at the house with his free hand. “But is it their business? We don’t… we don’t even know what this is, do we?” 

“I know what I’d like it to be.” Pressing your lips together, you took a deep breath. “And what I think it could be, but … it’s only been one night, so maybe you’re right. Maybe we should just say that it’s not something we’re ready to talk about.”

“Then we are on the same page.” He leaned closer, lips curving upward as he smiled. “Maybe we should just wait and see if they ask, and then we decide how to respond.” The same page? Really? It shouldn’t have surprised you, especially with the way Pero had responded to your touch that morning and the previous night. It was obvious there was more to things than just physical attraction, that it hadn’t waned between you after the first time you’d been together. 

You wanted to kiss him in reply, but instead just nodded, giving him a return smile before pulling your hand free. “Want help carrying stuff in? I know you only have a couple presents, but I might as well make myself useful.” He laughed, nodding, and moments later, you were walking side by side up the driveway and toward the door. As the two of you paused on the front step, Pero reached for the doorbell while you froze, eyes on the space just above his head. Shit. Damn you, Lin. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He frowned, and then tilted his head back, looking up, too. “Oh. Is that … what I think it is?” 

“Yes.” You chuckled, looking down and closing your eyes. “That definitely wasn’t there yesterday. I can’t believe she’d put mistletoe up after the diner. It -”

“She is clever.” Pero took a step forward, reaching out to touch your chin. “I should have known.” His gaze dropped to your lips, Pero’s expression thoughtful. “It is tradition.” Heart pounding, you parted your lips and closed the distance between you, your fingers tight around the handle of the gift bag you carried. It is. “And I did say it was not the mistletoe I was saying no to, just the timing.” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Pero.” He laughed quietly but did as you asked, his lips warm against yours. You leaned into him, one hand flat against his chest, and your own heart beating wildly behind your ribcage. You meant to pull away quickly, but he didn’t let you - instead moving the hand at your jaw to the back of your neck, holding you in place while he continued to kiss you. He nipped at your lower lip, the bite of his teeth making you gasp. 

But Pero only laughed quietly and did it again before he deepened the kiss, his tongue pressing forward to meet yours and giving you a taste of the mouthwash he’d used at your place. 

“Well that worked out better than I thought it would.” With a jolt, you broke the kiss and whipped your head to the side, finding Lin and William standing in the open doorway, her phone held in her hands. Oh no. “Now I don’t have to ask how last night went.” 

She lowered the device and your attention moved to William, the man’s attempt to hold a laugh back not at all successful. “No, you don’t.” Pero cleared his throat and stepped closer to you, his arm winding around your waist. “And now we don’t have to figure out a way to tell you, either.” 

William laughed and Lin’s eyes widened as they stepped to the side to let you in. Say something. This isn’t what we just talked about. “Pero, I -”

He stopped you with a kiss to the temple as you crossed the threshold, his arm tightening. “This makes things much easier, I think.” 

He wasn’t wrong. William and Lin had seen - firsthand - what they needed to see in order to answer questions about what had happened between you the night before, and about whether or not things were resolved in regard to the contract. They’d still probably ask questions, which was fine. But maybe now they’ll do it in private. You knew you’d say much more just to Lin, and figured that Pero would be the same with William. 

After taking your coats and boots off, the four of you headed into the living room. You and Pero put your gifts beneath the tree with the others and then moved to sit on the couch while William and Lin chose an oversized chair, the woman curling up on his lap. 

Pero lowered himself onto the cushions first, and then, to your surprise, reached up to take your hand, fingers closing around yours before he pulled down on it. Oh. Is he… “Come here.” You sat next to him, leaving very little space between you. He released your hand as you got comfortable, draping his arm across your shoulders and urging you to lean against him. He is. He really… 

You couldn’t help yourself, closing your eyes as you leaned in further to kiss Pero’s stubbled cheek before whispering the words “I like this” into his ear. He hummed, fingers tightening on your shoulder. There was no containing your smile as you straightened up, moving your hand over to rest it on his thigh. I really like this. 

“So.” Lin cleared her throat and then spoke, her eyes bright as she looked between you. “Are we opening presents now, or after we eat?”

[kykyonthemoon]

7 Days the mini-series

About this series: ✈️

Day 06: My Defender

Immediately after receiving the message, I hurried to the headmaster's office. There, I found Caleb waiting on one of the seats outside. His white uniform was covered in mud, he had bruises all over his body, one side of his face was slightly swollen, and there was a bleeding wound at the corner of his mouth.

"Caleb? What happened to you?"

I sat down beside him and held his hand timidly out of fear of hurting him. Caleb didn't look at me and turned his face away.

"Caleb?" I pulled his hand, still he refused to look at me. So I wrapped him in my arms. "It hurts, doesn't it?"

Caleb sat still and let me hold him for a while longer. Even though he didn’t respond, I could guess what had happened on the way here. I overheard the other students gossiping that there had been a fight between Caleb and another fifth grader, I just didn’t know why.

After a while, Caleb seemed to calm down, he took my hand off and started talking:

“I’m fine. Gran is talking to the headmaster inside.”

“Why didn’t you go to the nurse’s office?”

“I’m all right.”

He responded, even waved his arms and legs to let me know that, unlike the other children who were crying and running into the nurse's office, he was still fine. But I just frowned at him.

“What happened?” I asked. Caleb had never caused trouble at school. He had always been a good student, a well-liked boy by both teachers and his peers. His energy was all for sports and extracurricular activities. I never imagined seeing him in a situation like this.

Caleb didn’t want to tell me, but after some pleading, he finally spoke: 

“They were talking bad about you.”

“Huh?” I was stunned. Caleb simply explained that not everyone in school liked me. They made up stories and said negative things about me out of envy. Those words reached Caleb and turned him enraged. As a result, he gave them all a short trip to the nurse's office.

After hearing this, I gently gripped his hand. The sight of him using Evol to hang a few kids on a tree must have been hilarious. I was very grateful that he was so protective of me. However, I wasn't planning to be the cause of his troubles.

“I don’t care what they think of me,” I said. “Because they’re not important to me. I only care what Caleb thinks of me…”

“You are the most wonderful person in my eyes!” Caleb replied without a thought. “If anyone dares to say anything bad about you, I’ll put them up the tree again—Ouch…”

Caleb grimaced and gently massaged the wound on his face. I pulled his hand away, saying, “When I fall or get hurt, you always blow on my wound, right?” I puffed out my cheeks and blew gently on the wound on Caleb’s face. HDespite being a little taken aback, he obediently sat still. “After that…”

I leaned a bit closer to him and delicately kissed his injured cheek, just like he had kissed the cut on my palm when I was careless before.

“This is a blessing of speedy recovery for you…”

*

* *

Opening the headmaster’s office door, I saw the kid sitting alone outside. One of his cheekbones was swollen, his clothes were untidy and covered in mud. He peered up at me with determination and a hint of guilt.

“Am I in trouble, Mom?”

In that child, I saw the imprints of the boy who had been by my side many years ago.

“Of course you are. Violence is not the way to solve problems. I've taught you better than that."

The child dropped his head, disappointed. My severe expression eased, and I softly ruffled his hair. "You also need to know that it was the right thing to do to stand up for your friend."

He glanced up at me with a cheerful expression. I added, “However, next time, remember to use your brain, not your brawn. You're just like your father.”

The child smiled and grasped my hand tightly. On the way home, an airship sailed overhead from Skyhaven. The little boy waved up and said:

“I think Dad will be home soon!”

“Let’s hurry then. How about we throw him a lovely welcome back party at home?"

[pepstarvanmoon]

I hope this doesn’t come off as me nitpicking Milkvan interactions, but these lines just comes off as odd to me.

In the show, leading up to the store scene, nothing Mike says or does regarding Max comes off as particularly jealous to me.

He gets upset with Max for taking El to the mall (not Max giving him a segway into complimenting her new style (which he does later), and he just gets mad at her instead lmao.)

He spends the beginning of the following episode pitying himself with Lucas enabling it.

“What did I do wrong?” - LIED, plain and simple. He acknowledged that before they went to the mall! El gave him a chance to explain yourself and he DIDN’T. Teenagers, man.

“Then I should be with my species more” - I guess implies spending more time with Max and her having no desire to get back with him. Mike is pissed about the spying (rightfully, imo), and obviously frustrated that him explaining himself didn’t lead to El forgiving him.

Max and El spending too much time in the bathroom, “they’re conspiring against me” - confused as to how he reached this conclusion given what we’ve seen. It’s like he just HAS to say something about it, nevermind El getting her shit tossed last episode. Listen to Will and worry about something else.

Bro is lowkey more mad about being single (and therefore ambiguously straight in Mike logic) than about El and Max being friends.

When he admits that he was jealous and wanted El “all to himself,” it sounds more like an excuse than an explanation.

We know what jealousy looks like in Stranger Things.

If anything, this “jealousy” is more closely aligned to how Dustin described Lucas’ jealousy of Mike and El’s relationship in season one.

I even tried to make an argument for Mike wanting El to himself minus the jealousy, but throughout the season it kinda fell flat.

Showing up late to movie nights (more than once) to hang out with El longer.

Ditching Dustin (the day of his return) and the others to spend more time together before El’s '4PM curfew' (a lie, ofc)

Maybe switch “conspiring” for excluding? Then you could argue he felt left out, like he’s not the closest to El anymore. However, the responses to his “conspiring” accusations were 100% negative.

(This could also play into how he felt getting stuck in the back of the car with Will, but that ventures outside the point of this post)

None of these are considered good things if Dustin, Lucas, and Will’s annoyance are considered, and Max going from “it’s romantic” to high-fiving El after she dumps Mike… yeah.

You can certainly say he’s frustrated. He’s never been in a relationship and therefore has never been broken up with, but Mike explains it like the reason he’s acting irrationally is because he’s 'never felt like this before'? But besides the whole ’Nana’ thing, that’s not really true?

Stupid stuff being 1) lying about his Nana being sick, 2) claiming girls are a different species.

Angry, sure. Jealous? Wanting her to yourself? Don’t make me laugh.

It’s all a bit hypocritical to me, too. So El can’t have ONE day out with Max, but Mike can run off with the rest of their friends while she’s stuck in Hopper’s cabin. Okay.

And, in this specific case, I don’t really buy the “she’s hiding from the government” excuse because it clearly wasn’t that big of a deal for El to have gone out that day. Mike’s concerns were brushed off, and there were no scenes with Hopper reinforcing that (we had our fill in S2 ig).

(I personally think they didn’t want any interruptions to that Elmax scene because it demonstrates how little El knows herself, and being cooped up by Hopper and Mike, though it’s sweet that they want to protect her, isn’t helping her developmental growth.)

Like damn if you really feel that strongly about it, you all could’ve had a movie night in the cabin, but Mike can’t balance his relationship and his friendships, and STILL can’t now!

Well, at least you got that part right.

(Post pretty much ends here. Rest of it is me rambling)

All of this relationship bullshit skydives out of Mike’s mind when Will gets upset btw. UNTIL he mentions girls, then Mike gets defensive.

That whole part of the rain fight gets to me, like Mike truly believes that this is a staple part of his life, getting a girlfriend and abandoning his interests. He can’t date El and play DnD, and if he’s dumped, his priority becomes getting her back instead of reflecting on what happened.

He proves he didn’t have a firm grasp on the situation when he victimizes himself, and when he actually admits to lying it doesn’t matter at that point. El already knows and DOESN’T CARE.

He’s really not confident. Lucas got a one-on-one, mirroring Mike and El’s, scene with Will to apologize, because the relationship drama is no longer important to him in that moment.

(I didn’t think Lumax broke up, but Will said in ep 3 that they both got dumped? Lucas seemed a lot less bothered, and by the time they got to the hospital scene they seemed fine lol. Lumax ‘breakups’ aren’t really taken as seriously anyway with the whole “five times” thing)

Funny how both apologies go unacknowledged because what’s done is done. They don’t care anymore (for Will, I don’t believe that for a second but yk) and there are bigger things to focus on.

It's brought back up in the hospital, but MIKE is the one who doesn’t care that much until El uses her powers on the vending machine as an “olive branch" (in Lucas' opinion, anyway).

I feel like there’s a lot to say about Mike and taking initiative versus when he has to be told to do something, but more on that another time.

[alpaca-clouds]

232 Years Ago King Louis XVI got beheaded - and here is why!

Okay, I kinda wanted to make this one later, but then a friend said that it would be dumb, because today is the darn anniversary of this event. Which is correct.

So, in Castlevania Nocturne we see the execution of King Louis XVI, which evokes three emotions of the characters watching it.

Annette goes: "Good riddance." Richter goes: "Well, but is this right?" Alucard goes: "Well, this will make things go bad."

But here is the thing. Most of us have suffered through very bad history classes, in which we kinda learned about the French Revolution, but probably did not REALLY learn anything about it. I tried it with my friends. Nobody could tell me either why Louis was executed, nor could anyone tell me why the Revolution actually failed. People were fairly sure that it failed, but that was about all they could tell me.

So, let me go a bit into Louis and the Revolution.

Louis was one of those kings who were really bad with the one thing that kings are supposed to make: decisions. When the people started to rise up, and get into a bit of a revolutionary mood, Louis was very, very indecisive on what to do. A lot of people at the time made jokes about how Marie Antoinette was the actual person who was doing all those decisions and what not, because Louis was so bad with his indecision.

When the people got angry, he kinda hesitantly agreed to allow an elected government, as long as he could veto everything. And the elected government was basically made up 25% of nobles, and 25% of clergy (despite clergy and nobles only making up about 3% of the population) and only 50% supposed peasants. And then they wanted to make it, that the nobles and clergy members would not meet with the peasants.

However, some of the nobles did rise up against this (mainly nobles that themselves were marginalized through queerness or disability) and basically the National Assembly formed, there was a declaration of the rights of men, and the constitution was written. And what France at the time were aiming for was a Constitutional Monarchy - the same way that England was having it.

It was especially Lafayette who pushed for this and was doing his best to a) protect the king, and b) stopped the violence from escalating. Historians to this day are kinda discussing whether he wanted to increase his own influence, or whether he really just saw the writing on the wall of how much the violence were going to escalate.

And generally at the time the people were still quite benevolent towards the king. It was like: "Yay, we are all a big French family, and the king is out father! Fraternity!"

Either way: Louis and his family were made to live in Paris, being guarded by Lafayette and the National Guard. Until one day in 1791 Louis and family suddenly were gone. The official narration was: "Oh, the king got kidnapped." But a lot of people at the time were like:

Pretty much nobody fell for it.

Louis and his family have of course fled and tried to flee the country. Their flight was kinda dumb. They dressed as peasants, but also had the fanciest fucking carriage that you could imagine. And after a while Louis started to talk with the people, despite everyone knowing what he looked like (mainly because he had a very distinctive nose). And at some point someone was like: "Yeah, no, this is the supposedly kidnapped king. I am gonna alarm someone." And then Louis was dragged back to Paris, just shortly because he managed to reach the Belgian border.

He was dragged back to Paris, and it was then that the discussions really started of what was supposed to happen with him. Mainly, too, because at this point some of the surrounding kings started to be a bit nervous about the entire thing. Originally they were happy that France was less of a danger to them, but then they were like: "Oh, shit, if the people get ideas from this, they might dispose us, too." So they started to think about a) saving Louis and his family, and b) getting rid of this darn revolution.

And of course Louis, now stopped from fleeing, tried to communicate and collaborate with those other kings. And came out.

Now, the Revolutionaries originally declared war at the other kings - and Louis even agreed. The Revolutionaries agreed, because they knew they could not cower before the kings and show weakness. Louis agreed, because he hoped it would mean he would get saved. And so France went to war with a variety of neighboring regions.

And it was in this situation that people were starting to look at Louis and think: "Maybe he needs to die. Maybe we need to make a point out of killing him."

The national assembly voted on it, and by a margin of JUST ONE SINGLE VOTE they eventually decided to execute him. Mainly to make a point about their Revolution. And Louis was then very quickly executed within just two days on the morning of January 21st.