#considering he who remains said it was supposed to be BOTH OF THEM

[prodbymaui]

Eunoia. — 이민형

when it's all said and done, girl, I want you

PAIRING: mark lee x reader GENRE: unspoken feelings

WORD COUNT: 2.3k+ words

WARNINGS: finger fucking, pet names (baby, love), pool sex, exhibition kink, grinding

SYNOPSIS: it's late at night and you're yet to pull yourself out of the ocean that is your thoughts. Mark helps you out in a complexed but effective way that he knows. A/N: very self-indulgent, definitely not a scenario that came up to me in the middle of the night and stayed in my mind ever since. anyhows, enjoy reading!

The day nears the next cyle of the moon and sun, but you remain at the pool side— music resonating from your phone as you dip your feet in the pool, drinking the night away. 

You should’ve been worn out from all the fun that you had with your friends yet for some unknown reasons, sleep doesn’t come to you easily. In result, you opt grabbing one of the unfinished bottles of vodka for yourself.

The thoughts swimming in your head must’ve drowned you, considering that you didn’t hear one of the bedroom doors opening and the footsteps walking towards. It is only when someone sits next to you that you notices their presence.

Your gaze shifts from the stars to the man on your right— Mark. Your breath hitches for a moment. The messy hair and a plain white shirt paired with the dopey smile on his face is enough for you to fall in to another trance.

“What got you out here having fun all by yourself?” Mark tilts his head in question, to which you let out a soft laugh.

“Is drinking alone fun now?”

“I suppose.. ? It looks fun for me.”

Merely replying with a smile, silence engulfs the both of you. And as if on cue, your mind boggles you over trivial things once again, just like what it does since you were young.

Mark passes you a brief glance, then to the music playing on your phone.

Thoughts

Sometimes, I just can't control my thoughts

No medication's ever made them stop

All I think about is everything I'm not

Instead of everything I got

He sighs, biting his lips as he contemplates on what to do.

And it’s not Mark if he chooses the complexed but effective way.

The bubble of your thoughts pop when the water splashes at you suddenly. Surprised, you look over to Mark who’s swimming his way towards where you are seated. Just right before you, Mark comes up from the water, brushing his black undercut hair back.

His eyes meet yours. “Hi,”

“Hello,” You grin, sipping your vodka.

He walks a little bit more closer, enough for his chest to make contact with your knees. Mark smiles again, resting his hands on your knees.

“Hi,” He repeats softly.

You can’t help but chuckle. “Hello Mark,”

What is this man doing? The voices in your head asks.

“Come swim with me?”

You glance at the rippling water illuminated faintly by the moon, then back at him, standing waist-deep with a boyish grin that doesn’t quite match the hour. 

“Pass, I’m just waiting for sleep to take over my body. Besides,  you shouldn’t be swimming this late at night, Mark. You’ll catch a cold.”

Mark exhales dramatically, a mix of exasperation and amusement, before swishing the water toward you in a playful splash. It doesn’t reach, but the gesture draws a reluctant grin from you.

“Loosen up a little,” He says, his voice warm, almost teasing. “Who cares about catching a cold if it means having a bit of fun?”

You’re not quite sure how it happens. You remember saying no—firmly, even—but now the cool water laps at your legs, rising steadily until it reaches your waist. Mark’s hand is warm and steady in yours, his grip pulling you further into the pool, toward the deeper end.

“Mark,” you warn, your voice low, your fingers tightening instinctively around his. It’s not fear—nothing as dramatic as that. You can swim perfectly well, and the depth of the water doesn’t intimidate you. It’s just…this wasn’t supposed to be on your list for tonight.

He slows, catching the hesitation written across your face. Without a word, he stops walking, the two of you now floating in the very center of the pool. The stillness around you is palpable, broken only by the faint ripples you’ve created together.

Mark’s gaze softens as it finds yours, studying your expression carefully, reading the unspoken. Then, with a quiet assurance, he slides his arm around your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

“I’ve got you,” he says, the words low but firm, steadying you in a way that feels more solid than the water ever could.

You sigh, taking in the comfort of the moon and starts hovering above the both of you, and the comfort of Mark’s arm around you.

“What do you think Yeonjun and Wooyoung’s reaction will be if they see us like this?”

“The teasings, oh god,” The mere thought of the two troublemakers’ reactions is already enough to make Mark sigh in exasperation. 

He can practically hear their voices now—the teasing tone, the exaggerated laughter. They’ve been relentless lately, poking fun at the “odd vibe,” as they like to call it, between the two of you. Their wild imaginations have taken your every interaction and spun it into something far more dramatic, their assumptions as colorful as they are persistent.

You laugh at his response, sliding your arms to rest on his shoulders. “Why do you think they tease us so much?” Mark’s chuckle fades, leaving a quiet tension in its place. The water sways around you both, but all you can focus on is how his gaze has softened—more intent now, as if he’s waiting for something.

“They think there’s something between us,” he says, his voice dropping just enough to make the words feel weightier. His hands linger at your waist, his touch steady yet hesitant, like he’s holding back.

You swallow, your laugh from earlier now a distant echo. “And… do you think they’re right?” you ask, surprising yourself with the boldness in your voice.

Mark’s lips twitch, but it’s not quite a smile. “Sometimes,” he admits, barely above a murmur. “It’s hard not to when they keep planting the idea in my head.”

You feel a faint warmth rising in your cheeks, though you’re not sure if it’s from his words or the way his thumb grazes your side absentmindedly. “And what does that idea look like to you?”

The shift in his expression is subtle, but it’s enough to make your heart stutter. There’s something deeper in his eyes now, something that makes the air between you feel almost fragile.

“Do you want me to show you?” he asks quietly, his voice low and steady, but there’s an edge to it—a flicker of vulnerability he can’t quite hide.

The moment stretches, the world outside the pool fading to nothing. It’s just you, Mark, and the unspoken tension swirling between you, like the water lapping at your skin.

Whether it’s you or Mark who closes the distance first doesn’t matter. All that matters now is the way his lips meet yours—soft and deliberate, moving in a rhythm that feels as though it’s been waiting to happen. The kiss deepens naturally, a slow, intoxicating exchange that carries the urgency of something long denied.

Mark’s hand slides to the back of your head, his fingers threading gently through your hair as though anchoring you to the moment. His grip is firm but careful, a silent assurance that he won’t let go. When he feels you lean further into him, your movements mirroring his, something shifts.

With surprising ease, Mark’s other hand slips beneath your legs, lifting you as though you weigh nothing. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, securing yourself against him. The movement presses your bodies closer, the water rippling around you in lazy waves.

You can feel his breath against your skin, warm and uneven, his lips trailing softly before returning to yours. The press of his body is undeniable, a tension simmering beneath the surface, but the way he holds you—steady, deliberate—grounds the moment in something more than just desire.

Mark pulls away, breathing heavily. “I know it’s late but tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want any of this and I’ll pretend none of this happened tomorrow.”

Nonsense. You don’t even know what got him thinking like that when you’re already on cloud nine just by his kisses.

“Don’t stop,” You whisper against his ear before connecting your lips with his once again.

As your tongue fights and clashes with one another, you gasp at the feeling of Mark’s palm cupping your core. The water surrounds every part of your lower body but Mark could still feel the slimy texture of your juices on his skin.

His fingers slides along your labia, letting it explore and feel your warmth. The soothing movements of his pads strays away from your focus as Mark’s kisses travels down to your neck. Tracing your skin with his tongue, Mark licks a stripe straight to where your neck and collarbone meets. You gasp as he gives it a little kiss before sucking the skin, at the same time he enters a digit inside you.

“Mark..”

He shushes your noises yet his fingers serves absolutely nothing to help you do so. Not long after you’ve gotten used to his single digit, he enter another after another, curling them inside. Your head lols back, trapping your bottom lips between your lips.

Turning the both of you around, Mark carries your weight one arm while the other busies itself pumping inside you. In a few steps backwards, your back hits the wall of the pool causing Mark’s fingers to be buried deeper inside. Your hands fly to grab something as a leverage, eventually finding his flexing arms. The cold breeze brushing against your skin reminds you that you’re not in the privacy of your bedroom or any private space right now. And Mark uses it to his advantage, seemingly knowing well what you like despite this being the first time that he’s having a taste of you. “Haechan was awake when I left the boys’ room, you know?” he murmurs, his tone low and teasing as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His lips brush against your cheek in a series of soft, fleeting pecks, his warmth lingering with each one. “He was mumbling something about wanting a snack but being too lazy to actually get up. You know how crazy that man is about his snacks, babe.”

His voice drops to a playful whisper. “What if he decides to come out? Imagine him catching us like this—you trembling in my arms, eyes fluttering shut, your hips jerking against me like you’re trying so hard to keep quiet. One look at your hips, and he’d know exactly what’s happening, no questions asked.”

You curses at the thought of being caught. And Mark laughs. Because he knows damn well it’s not due to embarrassment nor fear. The clench of your walls on his fingers tells him so. “Wouldn’t you like that, babe? I think you would,” Curling his fingers upwards, your eyes rolls to the back of your head. “Look at you getting close at the thought of it. I wonder what’ll be his reaction.”

“Mark please,” You plead, not even knowing for what reason. “Please? I don’t know even know what you want, love.” It’s frustrating how the brutal pace of his thrusting fingers contrasts the soft and loving tone of his voice. It messes your head and inside both at the same time. “Please please, Mark—” Your eyes catches his sharp gaze in a hazy film, barely even able to open your lids to maintain eye contact. “Fuck– haah, I’m gonna come.” “Yeah?” Mark pulls you impossibly closer, grinding his prominent boner on any accessible part of you that he can reaches by merely moving his hips. “I’m gon– I wanna cum, I’m gonna cum. Shit, Mark please, baby,” You desperately cling on to him, meeting his fingers halfway as you try your best to fasten the pace despite the restrain from the water. Mark groans, silently wishing it is his cock you’re clenching around so tightly right now. How good it must feel to your warm walls massaging his length, tightening on him just right, milking him dry until he’s nothing left but an empty vessel of a man obsessed with you and your body. He presses your bodies to the wall as he grinds harder and faster, matching your pace. “Do it. Come for me,” He whispers your name in an encouraging manner. And you did just as he orders. Failing to keep your eyes open, your eyes shut close as your mouth forms a circular shape. The pleasure comes to you crashing down. Mark doesn’t know what kind of hold you have on him but he’s certain it is no way near surface level when he reaches his own climax just by watching you come undone in his arms. The look of you embracing the pleasure he offered is enough to send him off the edge. You nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck, your ragged breaths mingling with his as you try to steady yourself. The aftershocks still linger, leaving your body heavy and your mind hazy, but the comforting rise and fall of his chest anchors you. Both of you silently agree to stay like this for a moment, letting the sound of the pool water gently lapping around you fill the quiet. It feels like time has paused, a brief reprieve from everything outside this bubble of warmth.

But fate, as always, has other plans.

A slow, deliberate clap breaks the stillness, immediately snapping your attention toward its source. The sound is followed by a low whistle that cuts through the air like a taunt.

“Well, that was one hell of a show,” comes the familiar voice, dripping with mock amusement.

Your head snaps up, and there he is—Haechan, leaning casually against the doorframe of the boys’ room, arms crossed and that trademark cocky smirk plastered across his face. His expression, equal parts smug and entertained, makes your stomach drop.

[rafesdollette]

THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY- (2) BOY NEXT DOOR SERIES

summary — your first 'legendary' obx party with your new neighbor word count — 2.1k authors note — this is my first time writing smut so ntm thank yew. sorry for getting it out later than promised. I've been busy adulting (unfortunately) . and i stayed up til three am writing this so...you're welcome warnings & genre —not proofread. alcohol, !reader being drunk, slight praise kink (?), jealous rafe, fingering, oral (fem receiving) . fluff + smut pairing — NEIGHBOR!RAFE x LUX!BABYDOLL!READER

You weren't sure if legendary would be the correct word to describe your current surroundings. You were thinking more along the lines of uncomfortable. You'd stupidly agreed to this party, just to be standing on the wall with your second cup of an unknown liquid that truthfully, wasn't exactly pleasurable. Though, you were still drinking it for whatever reason. You were dizzy, suffering from a throbbing headache, and pissed off since Rafe decided not to hold up his promise to show up and keep you company.

It's almost been two hours since you've arrived, and still no sign of Rafe. He promised to meet you here whenever he got done doing whatever 'important task' he had to do, which was only supposed to take twenty minutes. At this point, you've texted him at least seventeen times, all for them to be left delivered. You weren't sure if he had forgotten about you, or if he just got caught up in whatever task he was dealing with. Either way, you were still annoyed, considering he damn near begged you to come here.

As you take another sip of the off-putting liquid in your cup, you hear someone's footsteps walking in your direction, as well as a pair of hands on your waist. Obviously you expect it to be Rafe finally deciding to show up, but you're met with otherwise. You turn around, looking up to see someone you recognize as Topper, due to meeting him earlier in the week. You can't say the interactions between the both of you have necessarily been unappealing, he just wasn't someone you'd be interested in spending your time with due to his whole persona. He was honestly the last person you wanted to see.

“Topper, hey.” You force a smile, shifting uncomfortably. From all of the interactions you've had with him, this is the most touchy he's gotten. Probably caused by the alcohol he's obviously been downing all night.

“Hello, pretty lady.” Topper drawls, clearly struggling to stand upright as his hands remained gripped on your waist.

You found yourself desperately but subtly trying to squirm away from his drunken advances. You couldn't deny that Topper had a certain air about him that was less than appealing, particularly considering the current situation in which he was clearly inebriated. Despite your discomfort, you forced a polite smile, willing yourself to remain calm. “Have you seen Rafe?” You ask, looking around the crowd of people “He said he'd meet me here but it's been...” Trailing off, you look down at your phone, seeing the current time “A little over two hours.”

Topper chuckled, the sound coming out as more of a slurred hiccup. “Rafe?” He slurred, his grip on you loosening. “Last time I saw him, he was yelling at Sarah for somethin'." He shrugged, swaying a bit in his stance. “But that was hours ago. He's probably balls deep in some chick right now, knowing him.”

“I doubt that's true,” you retorted. “He promised he'd be here.”

Topper chuckled again, his hand trailing along your hip. “You trust that man too much for someone who just met him what? A week ago?” He drawled. “You could always spend time with me though.”

Though you were slightly uncomfortable, frankly you had nothing better to do. Thus hanging out with Topper was really the only entertaining thing to do around here. So you spend the next hour and a half taking shots and dancing with Topper until you're almost too drunk to even stand.

You're not sure how, but you manage to get outside to the front lawn, drunkenly stumbling to lay on the grass, looking up at the sky for a moment before your eyes close.

You're unaware of how long you've been lying there or if you passed out or not, but you open your eyes to Rafe standing over you with an amused expression on his face. “Are you drunk right now?”

“Mmh, maybe” You respond as you try to stand up, but the intensity of your dizziness makes you fall back down, huffing as you try again. Rafe watches you try a second, third, fourth, and fifth time, all unsuccessful until he sighs, lifting you in a bridal carry across the lawn and back into the house.

“Wait, when did you get here?” You ask as you lazily wrap your arms around his neck to stay steady in his grip, not that you need to though, he has a pretty firm grip on you.

“Not long ago.” He answered, carrying you through the crowd of people. “You're a real handful when you're drunk.” he noted as he carried you inside, his hold steady and secure.

“I'm not drunk.” You insist, despite knowing you were lying. You were beyond drunk, which was clearly evident by how you were currently being carried around like a child.

Rafe snickered, amused by your insistent denial. “You can't even stand up straight” he pointed out. “And your eyes are glassy as hell, which only happens when you're shitfaced. So yes, you're very drunk.”

You open your mouth to argue further, but close it as you realize the pointlessness of arguing with Rafe. You knew he wasn't going to let the idea go until you admitted you were drunk.

Rafe carried you into the living room, gently placing you down on the couch. He sat down next to you, watching you with an amused smirk. “I'm guessing you had a good night?” He asked

You roll your eyes, moving your hair out of your face “Well it's not like you were here to know. I had to hangout with Topper instead.”

Rafe's amusement fades into an irritated frown. “Why would you hangout with Topper?” he asked, his tone a little bit sharper than it was originally.

You notice the irritation in his voice and frown as well.“Because you ditched me.” You replied, a hint of frustration in your voice. “You promised you'd come and meet me but no, I had to wait for almost three hours before you finally showed up.”

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't ditch you." He mumbled in frustration. "I got caught up dealing with some Sarah drama, and when I was finally done, I came to find you. And what do I find? You hanging all over Topper like some drunk fool.”

Your frown deepens at his words. “I was not all over him.” You stated in an attempt to defend yourself. “He was the one all over me. I didn't even want to hangout with him, but you weren't there, so I had no choice.”

Rafe's frown deepened, he wasn't sure why he was getting so upset over this, considering the fact that he just met you not long ago and nor were you together. “You didn't have to hangout with him.” He retorted. “You could've just, I don't know, maybe stayed here and waited for me. But no, you had to go and get drunk with him instead.”

You cross your arms, feeling more and more irritated by the minute. “Oh, so I was expected to just sit here and wait for you? How was I supposed to know when you were coming back? You could've been gone the whole night for all I knew.”

“And another thing.” You continue, still not letting the argument go. “Where were you even at? What was so important that you couldn't even take a second to text me and let me know you weren't coming?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I told you, I was dealing with some Sarah drama. She came to me and said one of the guys had been stealing stuff from her, and wanted me to confront him about it. I wasn't thinking about texting you, I was too focused on figuring things out with her.”

“So you ditched me?”

“No, I didn't ditch you.” Rafe insisted. “I got caught up and just forgot to text you. And it's not like I was gone the whole night. I came looking for you as soon as I was finished”

Rafe watches you for a moment then sighs. “Look, I'm sorry I forgot to text you. But I'm here now, aren't I?”

You can feel your irritation gradually fading, but you still have a slight pout on your face. "Yeah, yeah you're here " you mumbled with a sigh. “But I'm still pissed”

Rafe rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh at your grumpy childish demeanor. “Oh come on, you can't stay mad at me forever” He says as she leans over, taking your heels off of your aching feet.

You huff, avoiding eye contact and crossing your arms. “Yes, I can. I'm very stubborn if you haven't noticed.”

“Well I guess I'll have to find a way for you to make you forgive me”

And that's how you find yourself with your hands on his arms as you sit perched onto his face with your thighs on either side of his head, looking down at him as his tongue flicks between your folds.

"I-I'm not sure if this is really the best..." You try to protest, but the words are lost in the waves of pleasure that wash over you with each flick of his tongue. Your legs trembling so badly now that you can barely hold yourself up, and if it wasn't for his strong grip on your hips, you know you would have collapsed onto him by now. His rough hands slide up your body, his fingers squeezing and massaging their way to your chest. He palms your tits through your shirt, flicking the sensitive nipples with his thumbs in a way that makes you whimper.

“mmmh you taste amazing, fuck.” he groans against your cunt as he circles your clit, sucking the sensitive bud, looking up at you as he does so. You don't even have to look back at him to know he's smirking against you, seeing the way your eyes are dazed and hearing the whimpers and moans he's pulling from you.

Your breath catches in your throat, and suddenly, the room seems way too hot, the air too thick. You lean back, resting your hands behind you, finding just enough leverage to lift your hips and grind on his mouth. He groans, his tongue swirling around your clit with more pressure.

His fingers trail down, trailing over your inner thighs, and before you can even process what he's doing, he shoves one inside your squelching pussy, curling it and hitting that spot inside of you that has you seeing starts and your hole clenching around his finger “A-ah shiiit, Rafe”

“Mmmh, lookin s'pretty up there, angel” he mumbles against you, increasing the speed and pressure of his tongue as he buries another ring-clad finger into you, watching your eyes flutter and your mouth fall open, following with a string a whimpers and desperate cries.

You try and tell him that you can't take much more, your voice cracking and trailing off as he presses his fingers into that sweet spot inside you once more, making your eyes roll back. “R-Rafe...can't-”

“C'mon angel, I know you can. Gonna make you feel good- mmh...taste so sweet. Just let go for me.”

He flicks his tongue in a way that has you moaning his name so loud, you're almost sure the party downstairs can hear you clearly, the sounds so wanton and debauched. Though, you make no attempt to quiet down since you can't bring yourself to care.

He groans against you, his hot breath wavering, sending chills across your skin. You reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, grabbing it roughly, and grinding against him, feeling him moan against you more intensely now, as he speeds up the pace of his fingers.

“Oh god, I'm- I'm-” The sound you let out was almost pornographic as your throw your head back, whimpering his name as your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, cumming onto his mouth and fingers.

“Mmmh, that's a good girl” Rafe groans against you, lapping you up before sliding his fingers out of you and licking those clean too. “Bet Topper couldn't get this pussy to cum like that, yeah?”

Your eyes flutter closed, whimpering as you let out a breathy “Mmhm” before you suddenly sit up, looking down at him. “Rafe...where did you leave my heels?” in which he simply shrugs and replies “Somewhere downstairs.”

You pout down at him “But those were miu miu”

“Mmh, i'll buy ya some more, sweet girl” He mutters as he places a wet kiss on your core.

© rafesdollette

tags: @ayy1234567 @supercutelovergirl

[hauntedhokage]

PART 15: Proposals pt 2

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

SUMMARY:  The boys plan to ask you to move in with them, only to be put slightly off course when their girlfriend isn’t in touch like usual.

[series masterlist] | {ao3} | [tumblr masterlist] | {ko-fi} | [spotify playlist]

Their reporter had been radio silent for too long. It’d been twelve hours with no texts, no calls, nothing. It’s when you’re not on the morning news, an exhausted looking Ayame covering the front desk in place of the woman who was supposed to be the morning anchor for the next month, that they feel true concern. Ayame never did mornings well when she was called in as a backup, could barely make it through when she was scheduled to be morning anchor, so it was obvious that she wasn’t intended to be there and was replacing the bright-eyed and bushy tailed morning anchor that they adored so much. Where had you been? Why didn’t you tell them about a change in the schedule? 

“What do you think? Kidnapped?”

“Why do you always go for the worst case?” Katsuki asks, checking his phone again only to frown when the result remains the same. “My bet is sick. You said she’s awful when she’s sick.”

“A true baby, but she would’ve called and asked to be babied back to health.”

“So she’s like you.”

He ignores the tongue stuck out at him and leans back in his seat at the dining table, considering the options. If you had been kidnapped, Eijirou would’ve gotten a ransom letter or a call from your family or the news station regarding the ransom. That was how things worked. But he’s sure you’re fine, you were an adult and possibly just busy or needing space. But you would’ve communicated that, you always did. The pit in his stomach grew with every minute he sat wondering what had happened or where you had disappeared to, making his stomach hurt with the anxious energy he had no outlet for. His outlet was also an anxious mess, so there was no true outlet until they knew what had happened.

You were an adult, but you were also a civilian who couldn’t throw a punch to save your life and was entirely too trusting of people on the street. Kidnapping or other bodily harm unfortunately was a possibility, especially with how popular you were across the country. 

The jingling of car keys breaks his focus, his eyes moving to where Eijirou is pulling on his jacket with car keys in hand. He never did like waiting when it came to you, so Kastuki can’t be surprised to see that he’d decided to just go look for himself. 

“Going to check her place?”

“Gonna kick the door in by politely putting the key in the lock and gently opening the door.”

“Want backup?”

“Just in case.”

He doesn’t bother with a shirt, only grabs his own jacket to pull on over his tank top as he slides into the closest pair of shoes. They were just going to your apartment to check on you, he didn’t need to look overly presentable. 

“Oh, tits out today?”

“Shut up and lock the door, simp.”

Eijirou is true to his plan of gently opening the door, apparently not wanting to disrupt a potential scene or startle you if you were just home resting. There isn’t any sign of a struggle, and the two slide out of their shoes and jackets to take a look around. Coffee mug sitting on the table, half full of tea that was old based on how cold the mug was, a blanket haphazardly tossed over the back of the couch. 

“Hey baby?” You greet from the hallway, a confused look on your face as you lean against the wall. You looked like shit, but neither would say that out loud, they didn’t have a death wish. “I guess babies? What’re you doing here?”

“Checking on you. We don’t like it when you go quiet.”

You look more confused at that, but any argument is cut off by the worst cough Katsuki has heard in his life. It sounded painful, full of phlegm and other gross shit, and the wheeze you let out when you’re done has them both cringing. “Let’s get you back to bed. Tea?”

“I was gonna make soup.”

“I’ll do that,” Katsuki cuts in patting Eijirou’s back as he passes to get to the kitchen. “You need rest, and should’ve called if you were this bad.”

“It wasn’t until today, promise.”

He doesn’t believe that, but this wasn’t the time to argue with you further since Eijirou was shuffling you to your bedroom to go lay down. 

“You had us so worried, don’t ever do that again.” His scolding has you a bit confused, because you swear you sent a text to the group chat letting them know you were sick and going to quarantine yourself. 

“I sent a text,” you mumble, looking up at Eijirou as his features soften. “I knew you’d get worried, so I texted the chat.”

“Baby, you probably didn’t hit send. We didn’t get anything, otherwise we would’ve been here yesterday.”

Oh. That was unfortunate that the message hadn't been sent to them, but there was no taking it back and they showed up anyway. You didn’t want to risk getting them sick, it wasn’t easy fighting crime healthy - but to try and do it while sick? You didn’t want to do that to them. 

“I didn’t want you guys to get sick. Wanted to quarantine myself.”

“Not allowed. I promised to take care of you forever and ever, that includes your gross ass cough and warm yet still clammy skin.”

“Even the snot?”

“Unfortunately that too. But I think this might be a good time to talk about you moving in with us baby.”  

You only nod as you get back into bed, prompting him to continue with a wave of your hand before adjusting the covers. It made sense, you’d been with Eijirou forever, and he’d been with Katsuki forever, and you wanted to be with Katsuki for the same forever that you’d be with Eijirou. Being together in a living space made the most sense, especially since you were there almost six nights a week these days. 

“He and I talked about it last week and thought it made the most sense to make the move now since our leases are expiring. Three bedrooms so we all have a personal space.”

“That sounds nice,” you murmur with a yawn as he leans in to kiss your forehead. “Sorry.”

“All good, sleepyhead. I don’t think he’s making anything fancy so you should have soup soon and then you should rest. Need anything from the store?”

“Think I need more juice? Maybe tea?”

“You got it. Be back in like half an hour.” 

You try to dodge the kiss on your lips, but he’s able to predict your move and meets you there to steal the kiss he wanted. The frown on your face is met with a grin before you receive a kiss to your nose then your forehead and then he’s heading out the door as Katsuki comes with your soup. 

“Just canned shit, but he’ll get what I need for good soup. Also brought you more water.”

He was a provider, and extremely extra about it. Your thanks is waved off with a reminder that it was his job, which only has you shaking your head as you stir the soup a bit before taking your first bite. He definitely added a bit of seasoning, since this didn’t taste like canned shit at all and actually tasted like a true meal. 

“How’d you season it?”

“That’s a secret. Eat your soup while I tidy up your kitchen.” A kiss to your forehead is what you’re left with, but he does double back to grab a tissue and wipe at your nose. “This the kind with lotion?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. Have more boxes?”

“Under the bathroom sink. Two or three which should be more than enough.”

“Yeah, should be good.” He says with a nod, wiping at your nose one last time before tossing it in your little trash bin that sat by your bed. “Eat, please. I’ll be back in a few.”

He’s true to his word and returns just as you finish the soup, only to take the bowl from your hands so he could wash it quickly. You’re left staring at the doorway that he’d disappeared through, in mild disbelief at just how deep being the provider ran through the blonde. Did he even think about it, or was this just how he was programmed from birth? You’re tempted to ask but you know it’ll just make him feel weird about feeling seen like that, so you keep the thought to yourself when you hear the floor creak in the hallway that was the precursor to him reappearing in front of you.  

“Hey, pookie bear,” you greet with a weak smile, earning a grimace and grunt from the blonde as he steps more into the room. Whether it was the nickname or the sound of your voice getting worse, you weren’t sure, but it was kinda cute to see him cringe like that. He was very cute. 

“You look pitiful,” he comments, sitting down beside you on your bed and carefully pulling you into his side. “Still cute though.”

“I know,” you mumble, resting your head on his shoulder and smiling when you feel him kiss the top of your head. “Thanks for the soup, Katsuki. And for the arm porn.”

“No thanks needed,” he whispers, letting you push your hand into his and giving a gentle squeeze. “Get some rest, alright?”

“You really think I’m cute like this?”

“Beautiful,” he corrects, helping you shuffle back into laying down. “But you’ve gotta rest your voice. We’re not goin’ anywhere until you’re feeling better.”

“No?”

“Your boyfriends aren’t gonna leave you hangin’.” He’s settling more into your mattress, bringing you closer to his side as he does, and you let your eyes close as you bask in the fact that he called himself your boyfriend. 

You were truly official now; Eijirou settling in on your other side fifteen minutes later further cementing that you’d officially had two boyfriends, and Eijirou had gotten exactly what he’d wanted - his two babygirls on the same page and liking each other as much as he liked them. 

[lokittystuckinatree]

Metaphors that probably only make sense to me:

If Loki is Yggdrasil, Sylvie should be Bifrost, the link between worlds, or even Ratatoskr, the messenger squirrel. The connection between Loki and Sylvie tying the multiverse together like a string of fate.

[lilislegacy]

did anyone else ever find it odd how easily zeus offered percy godhood? and how it almost seemed like he secretly wanted percy to accept? well i did, and after thinking long and hard about it…

i don’t think percy understood what turning down godhood really meant

demigods do tasks for the gods because they don’t have to follow any rules. they aren’t controlled by anyone or anything. demigods are a strange hybrid - not god, not human. they are in between the laws of immortal and mortal. they are not supposed to exist. yet they do, which is what makes them so extraordinary.

percy is crazy powerful. of course, there’s the aspect of raw power. he has domain over air (storms/hurricanes), land (earthquakes and volcanic eruptions), and sea (monster waves, tsunamis, floods, basically anything that involves water.) he can control bodily fluids. he has super strength (with one hand, he held up an unconscious annabeth who was being pulled down by both arachne AND the forces of tartarus). he has super speed (he moves faster than bullets in TTC). no matter how badly you hurt him, he automatically heals and regenerates the second he touches water (an ability no other demigod has). he’s an extraordinary swordsman. very skilled in combat and warfare. he’s smart, and thinks of plans quickly. but he also has a great deal of social/poltcial power… i mean, he’s a leader and hero to both the greek and roman camps. if he says “attack,” all demigods, greek or roman, attack. no question. do you have any idea how threatening that is to the olympians? he’s also best friends and has an empathy link with the lord of the wild, which basically means all of nature is by his side too, including all land creatures. he’s also prince of horses, which means pegasi too (both of which are extremely useful in battle). and of course all sea creatures, including the mythical ones like krakens and leviathans. not to mention many of the gods really like him. hermes, hephaestus, athena, aphrodite, and dionysis have all gone out of their way to help him. artemis holds him in high regard, especially since he saved her. apollo literally considers him his friend! and poseidon - his dad, the god who is the biggest threat to zeus - is fiercely protective of him and cares about him a great deal. many minor gods also like him because he demanded them to be given more respect and for their kids to be welcomed at the camps.

percy unknowingly has more power, both physical and social/political, than anyone should ever have. he may have absolutely no idea, but it must scare the living daylights out of zeus. by accepting zeus’s offer to become a god, percy would have submitted himself to the control of zeus. zeus would be his king and ruler. zeus would then have complete control over him.

but percy said no. therefore, percy remains out of zeus’s control.

percy had no idea what he was doing. but thank the gods he made that choice. thank the gods he’s an incredible person. thank the gods percy jackson has no desire for power, because he has more of it than anyone should ever be able to have.

[greengoblinswifey]

Love Story for the New Age- Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— your love story with nicholas unfolds amidst the chaos of fame and paparazzi as you explore NYC together.

warnings— nothing explicit. fluff, kissing, ass squeezing, established relationship, protective and sweetheart nicholas.

a/n— read while listening to National Anthem by Lana Del Rey, preferably the demo version but the released works <3

You walked down the bustling streets of New York, hand in hand with Nicholas, heads down, sunglasses shielding your faces from the curious eyes of passersby. Security followed a few steps behind, giving space but always watchful. The city's constant hum surrounded you, honking taxis, the chatter of people, and the distant murmur of traffic. New York a couple years ago seemed like a distant dream but here you were, on a casual day.

As you passed a cozy-looking restaurant, the smell of food made you glance up. Just then, a woman working inside recognized Nicholas, her face lighting up in excitement. “I love your work! You’re amazing!” she exclaimed, “you’re even better looking in person.”

He smiled warmly, still holding on to your hand. “Thank you,” he said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. You felt a wave of pride, seeing him appreciated for his talent and staying so down-to-earth despite his new found popularity.

The woman, clearly eager to please, offered, “Would you both like to skip the line? I can get you seated right away.” He politely declined, shaking his head. “No, thank you. We’ll wait our turn.”

You couldn’t help but feel proud of him in that moment. Despite his fame, he remained humble and grounded. As you stood in line together, your heart swelled with admiration, grateful for the man beside you who stayed true to himself, even with the world watching.

“I’m proud of you,” you smiled, looking up at him.

“I know you are baby, it’s nothing, I just did what I was supposed to.” Always so humble.

After waiting for a few minutes you were finally seated with the promise that someone would be with you to take your orders.

The cozy ambiance of the restaurant was a welcome break from the chaos outside. As you scanned the options, you smiled and decided on pasta, having heard rave reviews about the restaurant’s dishes.

“The last time I ordered pasta from a restaurant it was so bad, I swear to god if it’s bad again I’ll scream,” you groaned. Nicholas, still glancing over the menu, seemed to be carefully considering his choice.

Just as you were about to put the menu down, a sudden flash caught your eye. You blinked, confused, and glanced toward the window. Outside, a group of paparazzi had gathered, their cameras pointed directly at you both, flashing non-stop.

You gasped and turned to Nicholas. “Oh my God, did you call them? You didn’t call them, did you?” He shook his head, looking just as surprised as you. “No, of course not. Why would I do that? This is crazy.”

You let out a small giggle despite yourself, but the constant barrage of camera flashes started to get on your nerves. Annoyed, you shielded your face with your hand. Nicholas did the same, his jaw tightening as the flashing continued. Neither of you moved, trying to keep the moment from spiraling into full-blown chaos, but the attention was unsettling.

Finally, the waitress approached the table with a warm smile. She complimented your hair, making you smile despite the chaos around you, and then turned to your boyfriend.

“I have to say,” she began, “your acting in Monsters was incredible. I just love the show and sympathize with the Menendez brothers.”

Nicholas gave her a grateful smile, genuinely touched by the compliment. “Thank you so much, that’s really sweet of you,” he responded, his tone soft and appreciative.

“She’s sweet,” you added, after the waitress left with your orders written down.

You noticed, though, that the first woman who’d greeted you earlier had barely acknowledged your presence. It stung a little, but you brushed it off, focusing instead on the waitress’s kindness and his down-to-earth reaction.

Outside, the paparazzi continued to snap pictures occasionally, but the intensity had lessened. Now, they seemed content with waiting for the two of you to finish your meal, no doubt hoping for more shots or a word as you left.

“I used to think celebrities called paparazzi on themselves but you didn’t and here they are,” you chuckled, sinking into your seat.

“Me too baby,” he reached across and caressed your hand in his, “I know it’s annoying and feels stalkerish but I’ll deal with it.”

You were content with his response. Paparazzi was dangerous, growing up you believed they were responsible for Britney Spears’ despise, tormenting her and catching her at her most vulnerable moments. The media had a frenzy with the pictures they would capture and you didn’t want that for Nicholas. You didn’t want them to paint a false narrative of him like they did so many other famous people. They were inhumane.

After the food arrived, you dug into your pasta and instantly lit up. “Oh my God, this is so good, Nick!” you exclaimed, your eyes wide with delight.

Nicholas smiled at you, leaning in to take a bite from your plate. Just as he tasted it, there was another flash. The paparazzi had caught the moment right as he savored the pasta.

You giggled, shaking your head. “I hope they got our good side,” you teased, causing both of you to burst into laughter.

When the meal was over, you reached for your purse, ready to pay for both of you, but Nicholas was one step ahead. He had already slipped your card out earlier and left it in the car. “I wanted to pay!” you said, playfully annoyed, crossing your arms.

He grinned at you, shaking his head. “As long as you’re with me, you won’t even open your purse,” he said smoothly. “You don’t have to pay for anything. I’m your boyfriend, and I’m going to make sure you feel good, even with the little things.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t help smiling at how sweet and protective he was. He left a generous tip for the sweet waitress, who looked genuinely surprised. “Oh my God, thank you! I really needed this,” she said, her voice full of gratitude. She admired the gesture, clearly moved by his kindness.

He smiled humbly, but you could tell he was proud of making someone’s day.

“You didn’t have to do that, but you really helped someone today,” you said, smiling up at him.

As you got up to leave, the paparazzi were still lurking outside, snapping more photos. You had an idea. “Let’s give them something to talk about,” you said, grinning at Nicholas. He raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

You both struck a sexy pose for the cameras. Nicholas stood behind you, his hand casually resting on your waist, but just as the flashes went off, he cheekily grabbed your ass. You both laughed, knowing that picture would be all over the tabloids in no time, regrettably but you posed none the less, your hands on his chest, looking lovingly at the fine specimen of a man before you then placing a kiss on his lips.

With the flashes still going, you headed to the car, your security team ensuring the way was clear. As you got in, the paparazzi tried to shove their cameras into the car for more photos, almost hitting you in the face with their cameras. Nicholas quickly turned, his protective side kicking in.

“Back off, get out of my girlfriend’s face!” he snapped, glaring at them. You couldn’t help but feel a rush from the way he defended you, a little turned on by his assertiveness.

You both laughed together, the adrenaline still buzzing. As the driver sped off, you watched as the paparazzi tried to follow, but soon enough, they fell behind. You and Nicholas shared a satisfied smile, knowing you’d outpaced them.

When you and Nicholas finally arrived back at the hotel, you sighed in relief, glad to be there safely. As the car pulled into the hotel’s private garage, the day’s chaos finally seemed behind you. Earlier, you had thought about how these wild paparazzi chases could be dangerous, remembering the tragedy of the woman you admired, Princess Diana. It was believed that the paparazzi played a role in that accident, a sobering reminder of how things could spiral out of control.

Now, though, the two of you were safe inside, away from the frenzy. You decided to stay in for the night, curling up together in the cozy comfort of your suite. After changing into something comfortable, Nicholas ordered room service, and you both settled down on the bed. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close as you watched a movie.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, before finding your lips. The kisses were soft and warm, a show of the love between you.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered, looking up at him. “For staying true to yourself today, even with everything going on. I love how grounded you are.”

He smiled at you, brushing stray curls behind your ear. “I wouldn’t want to do any of this with anyone else,” he replied softly. “I love you.”

As the night went on, you snuggled closer, feeling safe and loved in his arms. You reached for your phone, curious to what was brewing in the media. When you unlocked it, your eyes widened in shock.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, sitting up. Your boyfriend glanced over curiously as you scrolled through your feed. The pictures from the day had blown up all over social media. TMZ, The Shade Room, TikTok, everyone had caught onto the story. Headlines and comments were flooding in.

“This is the IT couple. This is a love story for the new age,” one article declared in bold letters.

People were raving about how happy they were to see Nicholas with a woman of color, and they couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful you were. You were overwhelmed, feeling both flattered and a bit surprised by all the attention.

He glanced at the screen, smiling softly before pulling you back against him. “You don’t need their compliments to know you’re beautiful,” he said, his voice low and affectionate. “I’m the lucky one. I get to be with you.”

You blushed, your heart swelling at his words. Leaning in, you kissed him gently on the lips before snuggling back into his chest. He planted another kiss on your forehead, and the two of you settled in for the night. Oh how you loved to be wrapped in the handsome man’s muscular arms.

[sescoups]

on my knees - choi seungcheol

masterlist

summary: your best friend and roommate is out of the country, and you come home to find nothing short of a disaster. who else would you have called but her brother?

word count: ~9k oops

a/n: I have no fucking clue what happened to me, but I just started writing and then didn't stop for like 4 hours so. here you go. you're welcome and also I'm sorry.

18+ MDNI!! warnings under the cut!

warnings: heavy kissing, seungcheol is the epitome of a Simp, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't), oral sex (f receiving), slight size kink, let me know if I missed something!

You had been best friends with Sua since you were both six years old. One of the older boys had pushed you onto the ground, wanting to be ahead of you in the line for the slide. Most of the other kids had laughed as tears started pouring down your cheeks, your knee rubbed red and raw and your pretty dress covered in dust and gravel.

“Are you really so immature you can’t even wait your turn?” a small voice had piped up.

Through the haze of your tears, you had seen a pretty black-haired girl kneel down to help you out. She had brushed away the worst of the dirt from your dress, and leaned in to look at your knee.

“I don’t know much about scrapes,” she said thoughtfully, “but I think you should clean it. That’s what my mom always says to me and my brother.” Then she smiled before standing up and glaring at the boy again. “You’re a poopyhead, and I will never play with you.”

Thinking back on it as adults, you always laughed at her phrasing; even more amusing was the way the little boy had taken Sua’s comment way too seriously and tried to fight her in the playground. Before any of the adults had been able to intervene, Sua’s older brother had stepped between the two of them menacingly, arms crossed across his chest. He was three years older, so the other boy quickly back-tracked when faced with Seungcheol’s nine-year old frame. After the little boy had run away out of fear, crying, the two siblings had helped you off the ground and to your parents.

The rest was history; playdates as children, study dates in middle and high school, and spending every single summer vacation together. You had gone from climbing trees to shopping at the mall, and from learning the alphabet to crying your way through chemistry together. Well, you more than her, but still. The suffering was mutual.

Your dynamic remained largely unchanged throughout the years. You were the crier, and Sua was the fixer. You hated the way you cried at the smallest inconveniences, and often felt bad for Sua for having to fix it, but she always said it was cute. She said you were just like that, and that was okay. Sua had her own quirks, mainly being quick to anger - you reassured her that you didn’t mind holding her back from fights and silencing her before she could yell insults at undeserving people, so really, you were the same. Just, you know, in a different way.

Another thing that never really changed was the way Seungcheol took care of the both of you. He helped out with homework when he could, taught Sua how to fight (truly a dubious decision considering her anger, but that was his business and not yours), and scared away any icky boys that were mean to you.

It was a very different dynamic to how other siblings seemed to act, but since you were an only child, you wouldn’t really know. Though, to be fair, he seldom held back the snarky comments when the opportunity presented itself. He would roll his eyes whenever you cried, call Sua an idiot when she didn’t understand a math problem, and generally be a dick when you played games together. It was all in good fun, you supposed.

Now, being 24 years old and two years out of college, Sua was your roommate and your rock. She was the one who put up with your generally messy habits and lack of cooking acumen, and she only complained once a month or so. In return, you were the one to make sure bills were paid on time and keep the freezer stocked with ice cream during the hot summer months. A symbiotic relationship, if you’d ever seen one.

You saw significantly less of Seungcheol, though he was far from an uncommon fixture in your household. He knew the code for the keypad on the door, so sometimes he just showed up unannounced to raid your kitchen and take a nap on your couch, but you didn’t mind. He did tend to fix anything that was broken and clean up whatever you couldn’t be bothered to, so the transaction was fair in your opinion.

One fateful Tuesday, you received a call during your lunch break at work. Usually, you wouldn’t answer, preferring to take your 45 minutes to scroll down your social media feeds aimlessly while eating your food, but Sua had always had special privileges, so you picked up anyway.

“Hey, sorry, I know I’m interrupting your scheduled vegetable time,” she started, and you snorted in response.

“I am not eating anything with vegetables in it, and I think you know it.” You were opening the store-bought lunchbox while speaking, your phone tucked between your elbow and your cheek.

“If I didn’t cook you dinner every day, you would have scurvy,” she shot back without a second’s hesitation. “No, dumbass, I meant your own brain-turning-to-vegetable time. Duh.”

“Oh, that,” you replied, unphased by her insults and generally snarky tone. You were used to it. And also kind of deserved it.

“Yeah. Well anyway, something came up at work and I’m gonna have to take an unscheduled work trip.”

“Cool. Where to?”

“Tokyo, so not that far,” she sighed, and you could picture her running her fingers through her hair. She never did well with unexpected travel plans. “I have to leave tonight. I just thought I’d let you know, so you can make plans to get takeout tonight.”

You scoffed down the line, placing a forkful of bulgogi in your mouth and chewing quickly. God bless convenience store lunchboxes. “I know how to take care of myself, mom.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you slob.” Again, you could picture Sua’s nose crinkling in disgust. “I’m kidding, by the way. I know you can take care of yourself. Just letting you know I’m leaving so you don’t think I’ve been kidnapped or killed or something.”

“Thank God I don’t have to deal with the paperwork for a missing person,” you deadpanned and took a drink of your Sprite. “No but for real, enjoy the trip. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”

“Thanks,” your best friend sighed back. “I’ll be back in a week or so. I’m gonna go home and pack now, so if anything’s a mess when you get home- actually, nevermind. That doesn’t bother you at all. Bye.”

“Hey-” you started to protest, but the line went dead and you rolled your eyes.

Well. At least now you could have sushi for dinner without having to listen to Sua complain about the smell of raw fish.

You were so ready to become a couch potato as soon as you came home. One of the new employees at work, Jun, had screwed up a pretty important document, so you’d had to stay late and help him fix it. It wasn’t his fault, he was still new, but you were tired nonetheless. You took your shoes off by the door and turned the lights on in the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on the counter before you heard it.

The water.

You had never had any issues with the pipes in your apartment, but something had obviously gone wrong with the pipes under the bathroom sink, because the floor was absolutely flooded. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly for a second, willing the problem to be miraculously gone as soon as you opened them again. Alas, no such luck.

The tears pressed behind your eyes, begging to make their escape. You tried to hold them back as you thought about what to do to solve the problem. The faucet wasn’t on, so it was definitely the pipes. Damn. You thought about calling the apartment management and asking for help, but their turnover time was two days at the best of times, and the office was already closed for the day. You heaved a deep sigh as you settled on the best option you could think of. You pressed the name in your contacts and begged the universe that he would pick up.

“What’s up?”

Seungcheol sounded relaxed and unbothered, and you could hear the chatter of a TV in the background. You hated to bother him, but hey, it was his little sister’s apartment too. You cleared your throat to try and get rid of the thickness in your throat brought on by the tears.

“Hey, Cheol,” you began, and you heard him sit up immediately and pause whatever was playing on the TV.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

He sounded worried; he usually only called you an endearment when he was worried or teasing you. Clearing your throat had evidently not been enough to get rid of the tears in your voice. Some of them finally escaped in tracks down your cheeks, and you swore, leaning your forehead against the doorframe.

“So uh, I just got home, and Sua isn’t here because she’s in Tokyo and I-”

“Y/N, I don’t care about Sua right now. I know she’s fine, she landed half an hour ago. What’s going on with you?”

“The guest bathroom is flooded, like completely, and I don’t know what to do.”

You heard the rustling of clothes and what sounded like keys jingling through the phone. “Jesus Christ, I thought you were fucking dying,” Seungcheol scolded, and you hiccupped a little, apologizing. “No, don’t worry darling, I’m coming over to help, okay?”

“Okay.”

You were sniffling, and you heard him curse under his breath. You hung up after a quick goodbye, and then you were left alone with the mess again. Looking closer, you realized that the bath mat was soaked along with a towel left on the floor. You sighed and took your socks off, deciding to do something productive while waiting for your knight in shining armor.

You took a picture and sent it to Sua, who replied immediately with a bunch of question marks and swear words directed to the apartment management. She also realized they would be no help at this hour. Great.

Once the soaked bath mat and towel were hung up and dripping into the tub as opposed to the flooded floor, you started clearing out some of the decorations that were taking up floor space. There was a giant plant, two laundry baskets, and a really heavy wooden dresser that held all your clean towels - you didn’t want the wood to rot.

You heard the door open while you were in the process of moving the plant. Honestly, you should have waited for Seungcheol to move this one; the plant was heavy as fuck and really awkward to carry, and you could feel your back protesting before you had even gotten it outside of the bathroom.

“What the hell, Y/N.”

The voice was closely followed by a pair of hands grabbing the plant from you and heaving it outside of the door in mere seconds. Showoff.

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asked after placing the plant down on a towel, grabbing your upper arm gently. You nodded, and he sighed, squeezing your arm. “Let’s see the- oh fuck.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Hysterically. The bathroom floor was covered in two inches of water, and the sound of more spraying out was echoing off the walls. Your best friend’s brother glared at you for two seconds before he started laughing too. It wasn’t funny, but it kind of was. How had this even happened? And how had Sua not seen anything when she was home to pack?

“Sorry, Cheol,” you giggled, wiping under your eyes to get rid of the tears that were still falling. Typical. “I, uh, wanted to move the plant and the dresser to make more room and-”

“Darling, that plant was almost heavier than you are. Not to mention that dresser. What were you thinking?”

His voice soothed your panic. He had been solving your problems for the past eighteen years, after all; this was nothing he couldn’t handle. He looked ruffled, you realized. He had been relaxing after a long day at work when you called, and had gotten to your apartment as fast as he could just to help you. And now he was here, being all nice and caring and calling you sweet names. You felt like a stupid child.

“I-I’m sorry. For calling you, I shouldn’t have, I-”

“Absolutely not. You can call me about anything at any time, you got that?” he asked sternly, gazing directly into your eyes. You swallowed, but nodded. His words gave you unwelcome butterflies, the intensity of his gaze making you look away.

“Got it,” you replied when a nod didn’t seem to be enough for him. “Uhm, so how do we deal with this?”

For a moment, the only sound you could hear was the steady spray of water coming from under the sink. You realized that all the products underneath would be useless now, and you would probably have to change out the entire cabinet housing the pipes. You felt a migraine start a steady throb against your temples, and you deflated even more, resting against the doorway.

“It’s okay, I’ll fix it for you, darling,” Seungcheol said softly, pulling you in for a hug. Your stomach erupted in butterflies again. You seriously needed some psychological help.  “Just go change, okay? You must be exhausted.”

You shook your head, but relented when he lifted an eyebrow at you. You went to your room and closed the door. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at nothing. Your bathroom was flooded. And your best friend’s brother was helping you fix it, calling you sweet nicknames and saying shit straight out of a romance novel - as if your dumb crush on him needed any more encouragement. You sunk onto the edge of your bed for a moment, just breathing deeply and blinking back more tears. Enough was enough.

When you were fourteen or so, you’d had a crush on Seungcheol. Who wouldn’t? He was tall, pretty, smelled good, and helped you with your homework. Ever since then, it would come and go, usually at the most inopportune times. You appreciated his looks pretty often, particularly when he came over to fix stuff for you and Sua, but you tried not to think about it much - mostly out of self preservation. He was still pretty, still nice, still smelled good, and whenever you let your mind wander for more than five seconds, you knew you were in danger.

You definitely should get it under control. First of all, he had known you since you were six. He had seen all your weird phases, watched you find your own identity, and that came with some really cringy stuff. Additionally, you were his little sister’s best friend. You had some loyalty to her, sure, but more than anything you were sure that he saw you as an extra sister or something. Considering the amount of time you had spent at their house growing up, that would only be logical.

Armed with the reminder of why he would never be into you, you shook it all off. You located your regular home attire - bike shorts and a big t-shirt which origins you forgot - and put your hair up and out of your face. Then you steeled yourself again, vowing not to cry at the sight of the water, and walked back towards the accursed bathroom.

You found Seungcheol on his knees in front of the open cabinet from where the water came. He was hunched over, hand in front of him to block some of the water and seemingly looking for something. His white t-shirt had been sprayed with water, and it was sticking to his chest. You gulped at the sight, repeating that he saw you as an annoying crybaby to yourself in order to stop the stupid butterflies that had seemingly taken up permanent residence in your guts.

“Do you need a flashlight or something?” you asked timidly, making him look up at you. He paused and blinked at you once, twice, before clearing his throat and nodding. You got out your phone and turned the flashlight on, carefully stepping in behind him so as not to splash him.

“I, uh, think we need to remove this middle shelf from the cabinet,” he said, having positioned himself to shield you from the spray.

“Alright,” you replied, placing your phone to the side and leaning to grab the shelf before being stopped by one of his hands. He had placed it carefully on bare skin so as not to get your clothes wet. Damn him. “What? I’ll just grab it and get it out of the way for you.”

He scoffed. “You’ll get wet.”

Now it was your turn to blink at him stupidly, eyes wide and questioning. You could feel your cheeks burning, as did your arm where his hand was resting. This stupid, stupid man was going to make you fall in love with him, and that just couldn’t happen. At all.

“Who cares, Cheol? It’s just water. Let me get it out of your way, and I’ll hold the flashlight again, okay?”

He grimaced, but let go of your arm. You grabbed both sides of the shelf and lifted it. It took a bit of pressure, but eventually it came loose. You backed up slowly and brought the shelf over the tub with the soaked bath mat and dirty towel. Gross.

Even though you had been fast, Seungcheol had been right; your entire torso was soaked with water. You decided that you could do something about it after the leak was dealt with, and so you just ignored it and grabbed your phone again. Your friend was staring at your front with a wrinkle between his brows, mouth open a little, and you rolled your eyes affectionately.

“Cheol.” He looked up at you. “It’s fine. I know you wanted to shield me or whatever, but it’s just a shirt. Now please, help me solve this?”

He nodded wordlessly and turned back to the considerably more spacious cabinet, taking a deep breath. His pout was cute, and you hated your heart for beating faster at the sight of him.

Seungcheol seemed to finally have found what he was looking for, and reached into the cabinet. You altered the angle of the light to make sure he could still see what he was doing despite the shadow of his arm. He grabbed ahold of something and started tugging, his biceps flexing distractingly and his eyebrows screwing up in effort. You were definitely not holding the flashlight in a particularly helpful way anymore, but thankfully your helper didn’t seem to mind.

After a second or two the water slowed before stopping completely, and you cheered out loud. The sound had somehow become grating after only an hour, and the silence was very much welcome. Seungcheol stood up with a wince, holding a hand to his back like an old man. Without thinking, you pulled him into you and gave him a bear hug. You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but held them back. You were just so grateful to have him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You felt him laugh against you before he wrapped an arm gently around you and returned the hug. You pressed your cheek to his chest, just standing there and enjoying the embrace for a while before your brain would inevitably come back online. You felt his chin press against the top of your head for a second before he pulled away suddenly.

“Shit, sorry, I’m all-”

“I said I don’t care, stupid,” you scoffed, but your cheeks were definitely getting red now. How could you have just grabbed him like that? And embraced him? You would have cried if you hadn’t been so tired your head felt like it was full of cotton.

Now that you thought about it, you were extremely tired. It felt like a movie effect, the way your blood pressure just suddenly dropped and you swayed to the side. You were expecting a splash and a very uncomfortable kiss with the tile floor, but instead you found yourself back in Seungcheol’s arms. Oh.

Again with the stupid romance novel shit. The universe was testing you for sure. How were you supposed to resist him, really? You were doomed. Even the thought of your infatuation with him being one-sided could no longer bring you back down to the ground. You were simply fucked.

“When was the last time you ate anything?”

And he cares? Fuck the universe, seriously.

“Uhm, I think it was lunch. I stayed pretty late at work, so-”

“Please tell me you have food.”

“Y-Yeah. It’s uh, it’s on the counter in the kitchen.”

Without hesitation, the man picked you up and carried you into the kitchen. Your heart was going crazy, as were the butterflies in your stomach. You were at a loss for words, just going limp in his arms as he brought you to the dining table and placed you on one of the chairs gingerly. You continued to simply blink at him as he disappeared back into the hallway and came back with his hoodie, pulling it over your head before disappearing into the kitchen.

You wanted to scream and kick your feet, because was this man even real? You had no idea how you had deluded yourself into thinking your feelings toward him were sisterly, because currently, your pussy was screaming for him to come ruin you. And honestly? Both your heart and your head kind of agreed at this moment. You were so screwed.

When he came back with your sushi all plated and a glass for the drink you had bought, you couldn’t help but let the tears come back. You hated that you were so weepy, especially in front of a man you apparently were head over heels for, but it was just who you were. You were sad? You cried. Happy? Cried. Angry? Waterworks. You were helpless to it, and apparently to him, too.

“Good job picking up food on the way back home,” he teased, placing the plate in front of you. Then he poured your drink into your glass for you, promptly ignoring the way you were wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Shut up, I’m an adult,” you pouted back. He snorted loudly and sank into the chair opposite you, looking at you as you picked up your chopsticks and got ready to eat.

“Sometimes, maybe,” he drawled with a smirk. You glared at him, but your teary eyes had little to no effect, and you knew it. “I’m kidding, baby. I know.”

He was still studying your face as you placed the first piece of heaven into your mouth, sighing happily and smiling in delight. It made him smile, too, and you could have died at the sight of his dimples. At this point, you had just accepted the butterflies and their claim to your stomach; doing anything else seemed futile.

“I’m sorry I’m so weepy, Cheol,” you said between bites, pouting a little. He shook his head but you interrupted him before he could speak. “No, really. There was no reason to cry so much, or so many times, but I just- I don’t know. I literally got home right before I called you, and that was, what? At around-”

“9.30.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and tilting your head back in exhaustion. “9.30. I’m just tired, is what I’m trying to say.” You sat back up and huffed, sending him an embarrassed smile.

“And what I’m trying to say,” Seungcheol said while you readjusted the sleeves of his hoodie, “is to not worry about it. I know you’re an emotional person, but that’s okay.” He paused for a second, smiling when you almost dropped your sushi into the soy sauce. “Being emotional is just a tiny part of who you are. You excel at so much; it’s okay to have a few flaws. We all do, I promise. Besides, being emotional isn’t really a flaw, it’s just part of being human.”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. First of all, he was way too well-spoken to be a man in his twenties. Second of all, if he was implying that he, of all people, had any flaws, he was dead wrong. You had never seen him fail at anything, had never seen him do something awkward, even as a child. God, you wished he had, because maybe then he could have remained the brother of your best friend instead of becoming so incredibly meaningful to you.

“As if you have any flaws,” you mumbled, sticking another piece of food in your mouth. At least the sushi was good.

“Oh please, sweetheart. I’m twenty-seven and single. There’s plenty wrong with me.”

You shook your head vehemently. “Being single is not a flaw, you dummy. It’s just a relationship status. Who cares.”

“As if that’s all it is,” he laughed back.

“Okay, so the fact that I’m single reflects badly on me? ” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Good to know.”

Your plate was empty, and your chopsticks were resting on the edge of it. The only sound in the apartment was a steady, slow drip from the drying bath mat in the bathroom. You were staring at one another from across the table. Why the tension suddenly was so thick was anyone’s guess. All you knew was that the air in your little kitchen suddenly felt suffocating.

“You’re single?” he asked after a while, and you laughed a little.

“Yeah, Cheol.”

“What about that dude, what was his name… Mingyu?”

“Ew,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “God no. We went on like, one date and then decided it was weird to be anything other than friends. He feels more like a brother than anything.”

“What about Chan?”

“Wh- Chan? That was four years ago,” you laughed, shaking your head. At the curious tilt of his head, you kept going: “He was fine, we just got stressed during college and broke up. It happens.”

Something about this line of questioning felt momentous, for a few reasons. One, he was inquiring about your dating life, a topic the two of you generally never talked about. Two, he remembered the name of potential partners that had been in your life, even ones that hadn’t stuck around for long (or at all, in Mingyu’s case). And three… the way he looked at you was different. There was something in his gaze that you couldn’t place, something you didn’t know if you dared hope for.

“Well he’s obviously an idiot,” Seungcheol said under his breath. You were probably not supposed to hear it, but you did. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he looked at you guiltily, as if he had done something wrong. “I just meant that- uhm.”

A few seconds passed in silence. You barely dared to breathe. You were hoping he would keep going, hoping he would clarify before your thoughts went way too far again. The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Finally, he let out the heaviest sigh you’d ever heard.

“No, you know what, I meant it. He was an idiot for breaking up with you, because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Time stopped. What do you say after that? You wanted to scream with joy and jump his bones, of course, but you couldn’t exactly do that. What if he didn’t mean it like that? If he didn’t feel the way you hoped he was implying? Because he, or more specifically his sister, was such a huge part of your life, and awkwardness was just not an option.

“Are-” you started, but blinked and started over. “Are you… serious?”

“Of course I am, Y/N.” He sounded almost exasperated. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, making it fall over his forehead in the most attractive way you had ever seen. Fucking. Unfair. “I’m not- I mean. I get it if you don’t feel the same or anything, but-”

“Feel what, exactly?” When he stared at you in confusion, you elaborated. “Please be clear with me, Cheol. I don’t want to keep guessing.”

It had come out as a whisper, but he had heard you. His expression softened, and the wrinkle between his brows disappeared. His mouth was slightly open as he seemingly looked for the right words. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you almost felt it in your throat.

“Baby,” he started, and it made your breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as dense as you are.”

“Hey!”

“No, seriously,” he kept going, not a single trace of evidence that he was joking, “do you actually mean to tell me you don’t know how I feel about you?”

“Look, I don’t-”

“I guess you don’t, and in that case, that’s my bad.” He got up from his chair and rounded the table, crouching next to your chair and grabbing your hand. “I am so ridiculously into you, it’s not even funny. Sua literally won’t stop teasing me about it, neither will my parents or my friends. No matter how hard I try I can’t stop thinking about you, but I’m honestly not sure I would want to even if I could. You mean so much to me, Y/N, and I really don’t want to be overbearing but I- fuck, I can’t-” he shuts his eyes in an attempt to collect himself, “I love you, baby, and if you don’t feel the same that’s fine, but I at least need you to know that I’m on my goddamn knees for you.”

Your glass, still containing some of your soda, toppled over from the force with which you left your chair. The way you threw yourself at Seungcheol forced him back, but you took the opportunity and placed yourself in his lap as you kissed him deeply. It took him half a second to respond, but then he was kissing you so ardently that you never wanted him to stop.

His arm wrapped around you from behind and pressed you to his chest. You could not give less of a shit that he was sprawled on your kitchen floor, or that you were down there with him, because you were kissing him. You were kissing the man that you most definitely had been in love with since you were a teenager, and fuck did it feel good.

“I, uh, take it you feel the same, then?” he asked after having reluctantly pulled away. You pressed your forehead to his.

“I bet that I have loved you longer.” You were breathing heavily, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Absolutely not,” he replied before kissing you again.

This time, you couldn’t hold back. You nibbled gently on his lower lip before soothing it over with your tongue. Seungcheol groaned deep in his chest and brought his left hand into your hair, pressing you even closer to him. He opened his mouth, letting your tongue tangle with his, and you felt the way he became jelly underneath you. You were not faring much better, your panties hot and sticky and your hands shaking. Despite this, you snaked one hand into his hair and tugged on it; his hips jumped in response, the action seemingly completely involuntary. You didn’t think you’d ever experienced anything hotter.

“Please, baby,” he heaved as you trailed your lips down his neck, “I can’t take it.”

You rolled your hips against his slowly, and that seemed to be his breaking point. He rolled you underneath him before standing up and taking you with him, carrying you into your bedroom while you followed the shape of his jaw up to his ear with your mouth. A shudder streaked through him as you sucked on the spot behind his left ear, his arms tightening around you and a hoarse moan leaving him.

You barely noticed him closing your bedroom door, only brought back to reality by the sensation of falling when he dropped you on your bed. You whined at the loss of contact, which made him smile; he loved the way you craved him, because honestly, he felt the exact same way about you. So he was quick to cover your body with his, his lips back on yours with a shuddered sigh from the both of you.

He felt so big above you, and yet you felt so safe. Not once had he done anything to hurt you. In fact, he had always been the one to take care of you and prevent you from being hurt. (Along with Sua, but you didn’t really want to think about her at that moment). His weight on top of you made you shudder in delight, your hands starting to wander. You played with the hem of his white t-shirt, still damp from the earlier bathroom catastrophe, but you didn’t care at all. All you wanted was to feel his skin against yours.

He was breathing as if he had run a marathon when he pulled away from your lips. He stared into your eyes, looking for any sign of reluctance, but not finding any.

“Are you sure, darling?” he asked, and your heart swelled about three sizes.

“I’m so sure, Cheol. Please, please, I need you.” You were properly whining now, but you were far past caring.

“Okay baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling away to get his shirt up and over his head. He was about to lay back over you, but froze and let his eyes wander your body. He shut his eyes, his forehead wrinkling once again as he took a few deep breaths. “You in my hoodie and underneath me, I can’t- Y/N, baby, I need a second, I’m so-”

You giggled a little before grabbing the hem of said hoodie, pulling it up and over your head. Apparently, that didn’t help, as Seungcheol’s grip on the sheets tightened and he cursed under his breath.

“I thought this would be better,” you said in confusion, blinking up at him.

“I’m actually going to die,” he gritted out, sounding as if he was genuinely in pain. “I don’t think you realize what seeing you in a wet t-shirt did to me earlier, sweetheart. What it’s doing to me now is just torture.” You flushed at his words, having forgotten that little detail. “Wait. Is that my shirt?” You glanced down and flushed even more when you realized it must be. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me, gonna fucking-”

He cut himself off by pressing his lips against yours again. Your head immediately got fuzzy again, the only thought you could formulate being that of his dick inside of you. When he ground his hips against yours and you felt the outline of it, you let out the most sinful moan Seungcheol has ever heard, which caused his hips to keep grinding into you without his brain’s permission. You disconnected your lips from his for just long enough to pull your wet shirt off your alarmingly hot body, and the man on top of you didn’t even have the strength to look at you without a shirt. He might actually have came in his pants if he did.

You didn’t even mind, because you finally had his skin pressed against yours. The heat of him poured over you, driving you absolutely insane and making you whimper against his lips. If he didn’t do something in the next minute, you would just have to take care of yourself.

“Cheol-”

“Please say it again,” he begged, his lips trailing down your neck toward your breasts.

“Cheol,” you sighed, and he moaned against your skin, his dick grinding perfectly against your clit even through four layers of fabric. You barely recognized your own sounds even as you felt them leave your lips, so high on his proximity you couldn’t have produced a thought if you tried.

When you repeated his name one more time he finally closed his lips around your right nipple, his deft fingers playing with the other and his cock still pressing deliciously against your pussy. Your hips lifted to grind back on him, and he actually whined for you.

“Seungcheol,” you whined, and his only response was a harsh thrust of his hips and another whine. “Please, take my shorts off, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He let go of your nipple, chuckling as he looked into your eyes and dragged his hands down to rest on your hips. “Want these off?” he asked, flicking the elastic of your bike shorts against your skin. You nodded frantically, pressing your hips up into his again. He looked like he wanted to protest, so you decided to do the only logical thing and beg for his cock.

“Cheol, please please please, take my shorts off? I need it, please,” you begged, your eyes big and innocent as you stared into his. “I want your cock, baby, want it inside me, please.”

Honestly, it was no surprise that his confident facade crumbled along with his will to tease you any longer. If he was telling the truth, and you had no reason not to believe him, he had been in love with you for a long time. You had played dirty by begging him for his cock when he had already been on the verge of losing his mind - especially with those big, innocent eyes of yours. How was he supposed to say no to you?

“Evil, evil woman, fuck,” he muttered to himself as he all but tore the shorts down your legs along with your panties.

The sight of you, his absolute dream, naked beneath him made him believe in God for two whole seconds, for who could have accomplished something like you but an almighty deity? He must have shaped you with his own two hands, he thought, before coming back to his senses and thinking that no, you were a creation of your own. No one but you could have accomplished something like you.

With very little preamble, Seungcheol lowered himself between your thighs, kissing up the inside of each thigh as he went. He looked up and met your gaze, and you had never seen a more erotic sight. Sure, other people had gone down on you before, but none of them had been Seungcheol; none of them had been the one that counted. His big brown eyes met yours, and you swore you saw raw hunger in them.

“May I, baby? Please?”

“You- You’re begging to eat me out?” you asked, in complete and utter shock. You had figured this was somewhat of a chore to him, something that needed to be done both to woo you and to prep you for his cock. One look at his glazed eyes had you changing your mind.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. His voice was hoarse and his eyes desperate, that simple look giving you enough material for many fantasies in the future. “Please, let me eat you out?”

What were you supposed to do, say no? Absolutely not. You simply nodded at him, and he fucking dove for it. His tongue explored your folds gently but firmly, and as soon as the flavor of you met his taste buds, he was in heaven. His hips ground into the mattress of their own volition as he was lapping at you, his tongue mapping you out and figuring out what brought you the most pleasure.

Seungcheol’s eyes were shut in pleasure, your juices covering his chin all the way up to his nose, but he couldn’t think of anything better. He wanted to drown in you, on his stomach between your legs, or - if he was allowed to dream - underneath you while you were grinding all over his face, taking all the pleasure you could from him.

You weren’t exactly complaining, either. His tongue felt divine, moving to gently circle your clit before he sucked it into his mouth. When your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging in pleasure, your lover let out a grunt that sent vibrations traveling through your entire body.

“F-Fingers, Cheol, please-”

He just grunted an affirmative and pressed his middle finger into you slowly. The warmth surrounding his finger drove him insane, making his hips press harder against the mattress and his eyes squeeze tighter. Having something to clench down on brought your pleasure to even greater heights, and you started to feel the familiar tightening signaling your release. You had felt the outline of his dick earlier, and you knew you would need another finger to make him fit.

“Another, I need you to fit later, baby.”

Your voice came out shaky, but the man consuming your pussy like it was the best meal he’d ever had didn’t seem to mind. He simply let his ring finger join his other inside you, grunting when he felt how tight you were around him. The tightening in your lower belly grew more and more intense by the second, the filthy noises of Seungcheol devouring you bringing you that much closer to the edge. You let out a mewl that sounded like it came straight from a porno, and felt his grip tighten on your thigh.

“I’m so close, baby, so close, please-”

“Come for me,” he growled hoarsely before resuming his delicious torture of your clit.

You followed his request a second later, moaning loudly and squirming around on the bed. His free hand pressed down over your hips to keep you still as he coaxed you through it, and he didn’t stop until the overstimulation almost hurt.

His fingers left your pussy gently, absolutely covered in your slick. You blushed as he put them in his mouth, moaning at the flavor as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. And to him, you were. He would remember the flavor of you until the day he died.

Your chest was rising and falling as you gulped down air. The way Seungcheol couldn’t help but grind into the mattress again made you want to cry, because how could he be so perfect? And how could he want you, of all people?

When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and you loved it. It was a reminder of just how voraciously he had just eaten you out, and you took the opportunity to reach down and cup him over his underwear. He hissed and pulled his hips back, panting already.

“I- you can’t.”

“But, baby I just want to return the favor-”

“My love, if you touch me again I can’t guarantee that I will have faculties to be inside you.”

His words made you laugh, both because of how ridiculous his phrasing was, but also because of the effect you seemed to have on him. Had he really been driven so far by making out with you and making you cum? It seemed like it.

“I love you so much,” you ended up breathing out. He gazed into your eyes so adoringly you felt like time stopped again.

“I love you more, Y/N.”

His response prompted you to kiss him, and he deflated on top of you. As he sunk further into your embrace, his still-covered dick brushed against your wet core, and the whine he let out was almost pathetic.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but please, let me be inside you now. I think I’ll die if I can’t,” he confessed. You laughed out loud again before nodding, kissing and sucking a trail down his neck while he removed his boxers. “Condom?”

“I don’t have any, but I have an IUD and I’m clean.” You could practically see Seungcheol’s brain grind to a halt. “But, I mean, if you don’t want to we can just wai-”

“No!” he almost yelled, his entire face flushing pink. “No, I’m clean too, and I- fuck, I would love to be inside you without a condom.”

You nodded, and he took a deep breath. The thought of having him inside you without a barrier excited you to no end, and it seemed he felt the same. You kissed him passionately again while he lined himself up with your core, and moaned through a sigh as he pushed into you. He didn’t have a monster cock or anything, but it was still bigger than what you were used to taking.

As he bottomed out, he let out a punched out sigh. You could feel him shaking on top of you, and did your best not to move or clench down on him. Unfortunately, your pussy didn’t exactly obey you and clenched down anyway. It made Seungcheol’s breath hitch, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight so as not to look at you while he was trying not to cum.

“I swear,” he wheezed, “you are going to kill me.”

His words made you chuckle, which in turn made him groan and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You were ready for him to move, and told him as much, but he still needed a second. You could feel tears sting the corners of your eyes, as per usual feeling weepy as soon as you felt a big wave of emotion. To distract yourself, you locked your lips with his and kissed him with all the passion you had left to give.

As your tongue tangled with his he groaned low in his throat, and his hips thrust into you of their own accord. Once he had started, he couldn’t stop, and you didn’t want him to. He started out fairly slow, taking his time to make sure you weren’t hurting at all. Then you accidentally clenched down on him, and he could no longer hold back.

He started pounding into you, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you and making you dizzy. You moaned out every time the tip of him hit the spongy spot inside you, and you couldn’t help the way you were clenching around him. You were hurtling toward your end so fast it was almost alarming. He filled you up so perfectly, so perfectly thick and long, it was as if you were made for one another.

Seungcheol was mumbling an endless stream of praise, grunting every time your cunt squeezed him a bit tighter. He felt like he was in heaven, your slick walls molded around him in a way that made him mourn the time spent doing anything other than this. He wanted to keep you like this, impaled on his cock and making you feel as good as you ever had.

Sadly, he was so wound up he wouldn’t be able to last as long as he usually did. While he didn’t blow immediately as he had been worried he would, he started feeling his balls drawing up around five minutes in. The way your nails were scratching down his back wasn’t helping his situation.

In an effort to save himself from cumming before you, he lowered a hand to circle the nub of your clit gently. The extra stimulation was exactly what you needed to build the rest of the way to the edge, and you tangled your hands in his hair as your thighs shook.

“Please, Cheol, baby, I’m gonna-”

“Oh thank God, please cum around me, baby, wanna feel it,” he begged, and it did the trick.

Your orgasm was spectacular, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as you exploded around him. You were moaning his name, clawing at his back and arching your back to the high heavens. Your toes actually curled. It was the orgasm of orgasms.

Seeing you like that, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he brought you pleasure was enough for Seungcheol to follow you over the edge. He came so hard he saw nothing but white, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself into you. His face was pressed into your neck, but his moans could not be concealed even if he tried.

You both lay there, panting and soaked in sweat, for a pretty long time before he finally pulled out and rolled off of you. He sprawled on his back and stayed like that, his eyes shut in complete and utter bliss and his heart beating out of his chest. Your hair was an absolute bird’s nest around you, and there were tear tracks running down your cheeks and into your hairline.

You clumsily flopped over to rest against his side, and he pulled you in until your head was resting right over his heart. You slung your bare leg over his waist, and he groaned in what sounded like agony.

“You can’t do this to me,” he whined, and you giggled lightly at him.

“I just put my leg on you, baby,” you said, looking up at him innocently, and he had to shut his eyes for a second and remind himself he wasn’t dreaming. You, yourself weren’t entirely convinced all this wasn’t a dream; and if it was, you never wanted to wake up.

“Okay, well you’ve just seen what seeing you in a hoodie and bike shorts does to me, so,” he reminded you, and you bit back a grin. It was good to know you could tease him easily.

You laid in silence for a while, just listening to his heart beating against his ribcage. Every once in a while it would slow down, and then he would look down at you and it would speed back up. Your heart seemed to match the pace of his, and you found that you loved it that way.

“So, “ Seungcheol started, and you pulled yourself up on your elbow to look at him as he talked. “That… just happened.” You snorted into a laugh, and he joined you, flicking your forehead gently. “I uh, I’m going to a work thing on Friday. I usually don’t bring a date because, well, because I’m usually single, but maybe, this time, I could bring you?”

You blinked at him slowly, admiring him in the light from your bedside lamp. He was pretty no matter what, but with his cheeks glowing and his eyes glittering, he was beyond what was natural, in your opinion. You stroked a bit of his hair behind his ear and hummed.

“I mean, are you not single anymore?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uhhhh-” he was interrupted by your laughter, and he pouted at you jokingly. “Don’t do that! I get scared I fucked up,” he said and rolled over to wrap his arms around you.

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, “I just don’t know either.” You paused. “Hey Cheol?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

At your words, his entire face lit up. He started giggling and buried his face in your hair, trying to hide from view. Even still, you knew he would be blushing. His arms squeezed tighter around you as he pulled you even closer, and you didn’t even mind that you couldn’t breathe.

“I was going to ask,” he ended up whining once brain function had returned to him. “Can I?”

“I mean, sure?” you answered, trying your hardest not to just lean in and kiss away his pout. Your willpower sucked, so you did it anyway.

“Great! Hey, Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

You bit your lip to hold in your laughter, but all it did was summon your boyfriend’s gaze to your mouth. You released it and broke out into a huge grin, nodding.

“I would love nothing more.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Sua said thoughtfully, “you finally put him out of his misery?”

It was a week later, and you were sitting on your balcony with Sua and drinking coffee. The bathroom floor was now dry, and while the stupid bath mat had been unsalvageable, everything else had been fine. The apartment management had gotten the leak fixed after five days, proving that calling Seungcheol had been the right choice for more reasons than one.

Even thinking about him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your boyfriend. The one who had brought you to a work function as your first date, and the one who had gotten jealous because you had greeted a coworker of his when he was getting you a drink. The one that had helped you save your apartment from water damage. The one you had loved for the past decade.

“Okay but how could I have put him through misery if I didn’t know he liked me, hm?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at your friend. She had her eyes closed, face turned toward the sun like an old lady.

“You cannot be serious,” she said incredulously, turning toward you and opening her eyes wide to show her shock. “You’re telling me you didn’t know Cheol was in love with you? He has been so down bad for you since we were like fourteen, man. He bought you flowers for your graduation. He reminded you to take your allergy pills before going to a dog café.” You flushed a little at your own blindness, but Sua just sighed and turned back toward the sun, her eyes closed again. “At least it will be easy to kill him if he hurts you.”

a/n: if you liked this, please don't forget to like and reblog! <3

masterlist

[specshroom]

BLOOD IN THE WATER꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷

"How much longer?"

Your current patron meekly asks from his seat behind you.

"Not much longer."

You curtly reassure him.

You should be used to these tourists and their consistent whines but it never seems to get less pathetic. You suppose you shouldn't blame them considering the position they've gotten themselves into, although a bigger part of you just couldn't muster up sympathy for people who are dumb enough to find themselves in the middle of a monster infested lake with a complete stranger at the oar.

That thought breaks you form your daydream and you take a moment to stare at the deceptively clam waters below. You stop your slow rows, bring the gondola to a steady halt and turn to your patron.

"This is your stop."

You fasten the large oar to the hull and step towards the man so that you can look down at him properly.

He looks around at the open water, the mist is so thick he can barely see a few feet Infront of his face much less any semblance of land. He looks back up at you and hesitates before speaking,

"I...payed for the full trip."

You shake your head solomly,

"I only said I could get you on the lake...which I did."

You gesture around to the lake that you both are very much on.

"If you want to get to the other side, that's a seperate trip."

You hold your hand out, clearly indicating what you want. The man's eyebrows scrunch, his eyes go from wide with fear to a heated glare and his hands grip the travel bag he's been cradling.

"You can't do that! We agreed!"

He yells and you quickly cover his mouth with your hand as ripples break in the water all around the gondola. As if he just remembered where he is, the man freezes and lets out a little whimper when he hears tiny splashes in the water right next to him. The small boat rocks side to side as the water vibrates, sounding out the life that dwells beneath it.

The water settles after a few moments of silence and you stand again and look down at the quivering man.

"What choice do you have?"

The tourist heaves out a defeated breathe and digs in his bag to retrieve a sack of coins for the rest of the trip. He hands it to you with an icy glare.

"Is that enough for you?"

He hisses, a little quiver remains in his voice.

You give him a look and continue to count your coins. If you're being honest, you expected more from him. The disappointment must show on your face because he looks just about ready to swing at you before you let out a loud whistle.

Just then several claws burst out of the water and grab him. He shrieks as wet scaly hands cling to his shirt. One by one three heads pop out of the water to leer at his now pale face, drained of any colour once his wide eyes meet the inky black orbs of the creatures holding him down. They bare their sharp teeth as talons sink into his skin making him unable to struggle lest they dig further.

His panicked eyes can only follow you as you start plucking valuables from his pockets and rummaging through his belongings.

From the corner of his eye he can see more of these creatures circling the gondola. Waiting.

You sit down with a huff, slightly rocking the boat as you count and inspect your new plunder.

After a few moments you hear low growls that simmer into whines, you peer up at the multiple black eyes staring at you, waiting for the go ahead. The man's blood is already seeping into their claws and they're practically drooling.

You take pity on the poor creatures and with no more than a final glance at the man you let out another whistle and he's instantly pulled from the boat into the water without time to scream. You huff as the water splashes you, as eager as they are it was a pretty good deal you struck with the creatures, you get the valuables and they get dinner.

As you watch the merfolk fight over their thrashing meal you feel a tug on your sleeve. One of the creatures looks up at you from the surface with intrigue. You give them a questioning look and in response they bring themselves higher over the hull to rather boldly nuzzle at your neck.

You huff in amusement and waste no time grabbing their jaw and kissing their cold but soft lips, caressing their wet cheek with your warm hand. They croon at the warm touch and lick into your mouth.

Another one surfaces the water to place kisses on your neck with a few cheeky nibbles as they cling to your clothes to try and bring your body closer.

You fully indulge in the benefits of your agreement with these creatures as the water around you turns crimson.

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷

Some more of this!

[suiana]

(yandere! bully victim x gn! bully reader) (cw: erm... yandere stuff, body horror or whatever its called idk bruh, he kinda carves his name into ur skin but its not mentioned in detail)

"how does it feel to be on the receiving end now, huh?"

you shiver, letting out a strained sound as you trash on the table.

"pluh- mn!"

"what was that? you've got to be clearer with your words, my dear. how do you expect me to understand muffles?"

the male hums, his cold hands dancing across your body. you could only shiver yet again, unable to do anything but remain binded to the table.

"oh, sorry, i forgot you couldn't speak. haha, how silly of me."

yeah, how silly of him to completely gag you so you couldn't speak. how completely silly of him to tie you to some cold table, restraining all your movements so that you couldn't fight back against him. how absolutely whimsical for him to be recording all your grunts, groans, and whines while you were completely restrained.

well, you suppose it's a bit ironic. considering that you were the one doing it to him when the both of you were younger. albeit not on this level.

you wonder if this was how he felt. vulnerable, naked, defenseless.

it happened so long ago, but the wounds you inflicted on him were still fresh. no matter how hard you try apologizing, his scars still bleed warm.

you shouldn't have been mean to him. you really shouldn't. especially when he was so much nicer back then.

"mn... you have no idea how much I've wanted to do this. it really makes me happy to see you so..."

he pauses, eyes raking over your form that was tied down to his table.

"so weak."

we've all watched the movies where the bully gets put in place and completely punished. you used to laugh at those films. i mean, how could the bully even be so stupid to get karma for their actions? couldn't they have hid better? tried making up for it? why did they have to go through the consequences of their actions? what idiots!

but now that it's happening to you, you wish you hadn't said those words.

the second you found out that your ex-victim was your boss, you couldn't even as much as utter a word. no, you felt like you were about to have a mental breakdown. especially because you were now his secretary, working for him.

"come on, what happened to that big, scary, and mean ol' bully that i knew? the one that used to pour water over my head and have their friends restrain me?"

his words have a hunt of condescension- no, they were fully condescending. he was mocking you right now. mocking you for your stupidity, mocking you for your actions. and he was absolutely taking pleasure in seeing you in such a weak and reduced state. a shell of the person you once were.

you couldn't do anything but to take it like the loser you were.

"haha, look at you. all tied down and gagged like the dog you are. why don't you bark for me? maybe I'll be nicer if you act like a stupid bitch in heat."

he laughs, hands resting on your clothed abdomen. his hair falls over his eyes, the usual up kept man looking like a mess as he continues to taunt you.

"you know, when i confessed to liking you, i never expected you to bully me. seriously. i thought you'd be like, I don't know, nice about it. if you were nice I don't think I'd have stalked you and do all this. would've courted you normally until you accepted. I'm a patient guy after all."

the words that come out of his mouth have just the tiniest bit of sadness in them. however, it's completely squashed down by the sharp look in his eyes.

"had i known you'd be such an ass about it... I'd have just taken you for myself right there and then. who cares about having a normal relationship, right? as long as you're with me, it's all that matters."

right, like what he was doing right now. ever since you started working for him he's been constantly... acting like he was your boyfriend rather than your boss. constantly giving you gifts, telling you that it was okay that you bullied him because he knows you're just shy and that he'll make things right... the worst part was when he forbid you from interacting with others.

it was fucking creepy.

things were only worsened when he found you on a night out at a bar, flirting with some random stranger. you had wanted to let loose and relieve some stress but it looks like karma loved to see you suffer.

"what are you doing? are you cheating on me?"

what the fuck?! you stare at your boss in horror, freezing in place. quickly turning back to the stranger you were flirting with, you shake your head and apologize, explaining that your boss was just a little weird. why the hell is he even here?!

"look, I'm sorry but he's a bit of a creep and-"

"my darling, i think it's time we go back home. you've had one too many drinks."

that experience was only the start of an even worser time. one that led him to declare to the whole damn world that you were now his in a fit of anger and mania. i mean, he practically has you locked in his house now. and it wasn't even illegal since you agreed to come.

he had called you to sort out some paperwork or whatever and you being his secretary... you couldn't refuse even if you wanted to. so you made your way to his house, all naive and ignorant of what was to come the second he opened those doors to that luxurious mansion of his.

you passed out and the next thing you knew, you were restrained to the table, gagged and staring at him with a half lidded look in your eyes.

god damn it, you should've known better than to believe this crazy guy's words. why would you willingly go to his place where there'd be no one but you two? ugh, stupid, stupid, stupid.

and now you could only express how terrified you were with your eyes and shivering body.

"how cute. how seriously cute. I've always wanted to see you look at me with that expression."

he coos, lips stretched into a smirk as he leans down to your face. his breath hits your skin, cold hands trailing up your chest and to your jaw before he grips hard.

"you're mine. it wasn't clear when i was just a boy but you've always been mine. since the day i let you bullied me, and even right now, I've made it clear. you're mine, and always will be mine."

he's right, you've always been his. why else would this rich and obviously powerful guy just let you bully him? he could've had you gone the second you made a move on him but instead...

"i still remember the slaps and bruises you left on me. ah... you were so cute back then. hitting me like that. should've scarred me too, maybe then I'd see your horrified face whenever i flashed it."

a sadist. you're sure that he's some sort of sadistic masochist.

"oh well, it's no matter. I've done that job for you."

he pulls away, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his bare upper body to you. to say that you were completely terrified would be an understatement. because why the hell was your first name (and his last name btw) painfully carved into his other flawless skin? right above his heart, no less!

"isn't it beautiful? you're forever with me now."

his words send a chill down your body. what the hell, you don't want to be with him at all! and it looks like he sensed that but chose to ignore your feelings.

your boss smiles at you before pulling out a small blade from his pants.

oh hell nah.

"it's your turn, darling."

no no no, you don't like where this is going. your body trashes violently against the cold hard table he had you strapped in, pupils blown wide as adrenaline fills your veins.

"mgh! mf!"

"hey hey, quiet down. it's only fair that i get to do it to you, right? consider this my payback. you had your fun and now I'm having mine."

no! shit shit shit, what are you supposed to do?!

you try shaking your head, sweat forming on your skin as your breath grows laboured. your body continues to trash against the bindings, but it looks like the bindings were done just a little too well.

"hm... should i do it somewhere visible? or maybe... right where your heart would be?"

you shake violently, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"nh! mh!"

"aw, is my little darling about to cry? that's so cute. go on, cry for me. cry for me just like i cried for you."

tears fall down your cheeks as he trails the vlade over your clothes. the sharpness of the item has you shivering, cold dread creeping up your spine at the very thought of that anywhere on your skin.

"hm... since you look so scared, I'll carve my initials instead of my full name. how about that? a good offer if i say so myself."

if you could speak, you'd be cursing and begging him to stop. unfortunately that wasn't the case and your boss took your lack of words as the green light.

"don't worry, I'll kiss your pain away afterwards. it'll be over before you know it."

oh god damn it, you really should've just politely rejected him when he confessed.

[cosmos-coma]

My Sun, My Star

A/N: I'm so weak for Winter soldier Bucky. I cant wait to write more of him, I love this sad guilt ridden man.

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader

Words: 6756

Warnings: Breaking and entering, Minor violence, Injury and Blood, Winter soldier Bucky, GN reader but also Pregnant reader, mild language, I'm not sure if this is fluff or angst or both??

Summary: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

Like what I do? Consider buying me a Coffee!

________________

Your eyes blinked slowly, heavier with each passing second, yet you still managed to open them once again. Glancing at the bright white numbers of the digital clock you watched it change to 1:46 AM, causing a groan to pull from your lips. Bucky was supposed to be back tonight (yesterday technically) from his latest mission, but he still had yet to show up at your shared flat. 

You checked your phone again, the lack of notifications mocking your tired eyes. You let out one more sigh before you turned off the mindless babbling of the TV and stood up to get ready for bed. You were sure Bucky wouldn’t want you waiting up so late in your current condition anyway, he had been harping you about getting enough sleep and water and everything in between.

“I’m only four months pregnant, Bucky. I’m fully capable of staying up late” You had said to him. 

“Five months, Doll, and it’s about your cortisol levels. It’s not good for you or the baby, and it could lead to them being underweight” he said, reciting exactly what the doctor had told him during your last checkup. 

“Four and a half,” you argued as you stuck your tongue out at him, “and she was talking about getting chased by a bear kind of stress, not staying up to watch Bake Off.” 

You snorted at the memory of just earlier that week, a small smile coming to your face as you went through your nightly routine. You continued to check your phone here and there as you went, “Did you get back safe? How’d your mission go?” you had texted two hours ago, yet it still remained unread and unanswered.  

‘Maybe one more quick text wouldn’t hurt,’  you thought to yourself as you typed out the simple message and hit send. 

“Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

You sighed as you set the phone down, “it’s okay, everything is okay,” you assured yourself as you pulled one of his large hoodies over your head, enjoying the way the hem brushed against your bare thighs and the sleeves threatened to swallow your hands. “He’s a former assassin and a super soldier! Nothing is going to happen that he can’t handle,” You stated firmly to your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes remained unsure despite your voice’s conviction, but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on the achingly tired look they held. 

“Yes, I know. It’s finally time for bed, little one,” you mumbled sleepily as you felt your baby kick against the walls of your protruding belly, being quick to climb between the layers of blankets and lonesome sheets. “Fuck, that's cold…!” you swore quietly as your bare legs hit the icy fabric- having gone unwarmed by your personal space heater and super soldier.

Thankfully sleep came easily, the thought of waking up to Bucky’s sleepy, scruffy face only further urged your body to wind down so the moment would come sooner. 

----

Bucky’s phone buzzed again in his bag, lighting up with your smiling face as your text displayed on the screen, but nobody reached down to check it, as everyone found themselves in a far more urgent situation. 

“Keep him busy, Rodgers! I just need one more minute!” Tony yelled as he dug through the equipment in the quinjet, “For fuck’s sake, who organized this last?” 

“What do you think I’m doing…!” The blond grunted with a justified hint of frustration,” Sam? Any help??” He shouted with a pointed look, telling more than asking as he struggled to restrain his thrashing friend. A swift metal fist flew toward his already battered face, barely giving him time to duck out of the way and attempt to restrain it again. 

“Honestly? Seems like you’ve got this one,” Sam said, holding up his hands.

“SAM.” 

“I’m coming..! God, can’t either of you old men take a joke?”

No one knew exactly what happened, Bucky had gone off on his own in the Hydra base they were exploring. It was supposed to have been recently abandoned, something about the agents leaving in an urgent rush that left files upon files sitting out in the open. It was supposed to be a simple mission; everyone goes off in teams, gathers what they can, and makes sure there are no surprises. But Bucky assured them that he would be fine to go on his own, he hadn’t had a sign of relapse in over a year, and he would only be picking up what looked important. A simple job.

He should’ve listened. 

It was when he didn’t return to the jet with the rest of them that they started to get worried. 

“So, where’s the Manchurian candidate?” Tony jested, looking at his watch. They were supposed to leave maybe 10 minutes ago, not terribly late by any means, but enough to start getting worried about Bucky’s quietness over the coms.  

“Man, come on.. ” Sam sighed at Tony’s joke as he crossed his arms. 

“Bucky?” Steve tried calling over the coms, ignoring both of his teammates, but the line remained all too quiet. 

They found him finally in the basement level of the office building, old discarded computers lining the walls along with cabinets upon cabinets of old files and other equipment. He hadn’t even realized it was a trap until he stepped right into it, triggering a switch that had the computers and hidden speakers flashing images and sounds that assaulted his senses with fragmented memories long forgotten. 

He should have listened. 

Sam had found him first, on his knees in the middle of the floor with hands desperately covering his ears, trying to block out the incessant noise. Hauling his teammate to his feet, he rushed back to the jet, calling everyone off from their search before anything else could be sprung. 

At first, they thought he might be fine- quiet, but fine. He had given them a small smile and a wave of his hand as everyone tried to check in with him, taking a seat as the jet took off to go home. It had all seemed relatively normal until they were halfway back and the unseen battle inside him must have taken a turn. 

“Got it!” Tony yelled as he pulled out the dart gun, aiming quickly as he fired two shots into Bucky’s chest, readying a third as he waited and watched for the tranquilizers to finally take effect. It was slow as Bucky continued to struggle against the drug’s drain, his body and mind turning into slow-moving molasses. Low grunts emanated from his throat as the last of his strength ebbed away, leaving nothing but forced sleep in its wake. 

“Was two really necessary?” Steve asked as his shoulders finally relaxed, the strain and worry now temporarily over. 

Together they dragged the drugged-up assassin into the jet’s small quarantine area for the remainder of the trip, satisfied only when they heard the mechanical locks slide into place. It wasn’t much, and they knew that and if he really wanted to there would be no stopping him from getting out, but it was something- enough to give them a few seconds of preparation if nothing else.  

“I’m not giving a super soldier only a single dose, you two metabolize things like this way too fast and I’m not taking any chances with the Tin man over there.”

Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier, seemed to still be out of it when they finally landed, sat up and leaning against the wall, head slumped forward just as they had left him. 

“Alright, let's just get him into one of the holding rooms for the night. We’ll work on resetting him-” Tony lifted his hands as the two men glared in his direction, “- on ‘fixing him up’ as soon as he’s been secured.” 

Sam shook his head as Tony corrected himself, taking notice of the lit-up phone in Bucky’s bag, buzzing with an only recently delivered message. Sam had quickly become one of your closest friends after you were introduced to the team. He was one of the few people Bucky trusted with his life and between his sarcastic jokes, his incredibly loyal nature, and his willingness to give Bucky shit whenever he deserved it, you knew very quickly how great a friend he would be. 

But now his stomach twisted as he saw your name flash across the screen, the alert quickly minimizing itself as it joined the other messages you had sent that night. How was he gonna break this to you? The last thing you needed was a bunch of unnecessary stress on your shoulders, but it’s obvious you were beginning to worry over their late return. Sliding the phone back into its rightful place Sam told himself that he’d call you once they had things more figured out.

“Heart rate still seems to be resting. With any luck, he’ll remain knocked out until we get inside,” Tony relayed as he monitored the Soldier’s vitals and pressed the button to open the heavy quarantine doors.

The doors slid into their resting positions with a soft click. 

As soon as that click landed on sensitive ears, vibrant blue eyes shot open. Sparing not even a second, the Winter Soldier surged forward from his seat, not nearly as far gone as he left them to believe. With the element of surprise, the Soldier easily knocked past his teammates, throwing his body weight against them and knocking Sam and Steve off balance, leaving him a good headstart as he dashed out the jet’s open door.

“Fuck, Bucky- Wait!,” Steve swore as he stumbled out behind him, having to use his super soldier speed just to keep pace. But between the settled darkness of the night, and the winding alleyways the brunette stuck to, Steve was left falling behind in no time. “Shit,” Steve swore as he slowed to a stop, looking around for any sign of his compromised friend. 

However, the streets lay barren, the fluttering of moths in the streetlights the only sign of life on the entire block.

---

The heavy thud of his boots echoed against the alleyway’s pavement. He wasn't sure where exactly he was headed as his silhouette slunk between the warm light of the streetlamps, but part of him- a currently repressed part of him- knew that safety was bound to be just ahead. 

His heart beat smoothly as he kept his pace, every other step falling in time as he rounded the corner. Blindly, he let himself be led by instinct and his feet maneuvered the city’s countless paths with a mind of their own. They slowed before a little apartment building and as those emotionless eyes looked up, he knew this was it.

The lateness of the hour had almost assured that no one was around as he slipped inside, footsteps padding up the stairs before stopping at the third floor. His heavy boots left nothing but wet prints in their wake as he wandered down the hall, impossibly silent, as even the notoriously creaky boards dared not announce his presence. 

The closer he got, the more the back of his mind itched, as if something- someone- was begging him not to go any further, but he refused to listen; he knew this was where he was meant to be and where he would find what his body was so inexplicably drawn to.

With each step his head turned on a swivel, looking for the sense of safety and familiarity that the other half of him seemed to find here- and desperately wished he wouldn’t discover. Just as his foot was about to take another step he stopped. ‘No. Here.’ His gut told him, turning to the door. 

His door.

Your door.

The former assassin bypassed the lock with ease, quickly slipping in before shutting the door behind him. A dim light illuminated the living room, the little lamp you left on for him casting its orange glow over his surroundings as he surveyed them.

A few mugs stand beside the sink, framed photos dot the wall and side tables, and a veritable nest of blankets lay across the couch. It was obvious someone had been here, and recently. A deep breath pulled into his lungs, causing his head to tilt to the side in contemplation as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose, something just as earthy as it was sweet and speckled with distant notes of… him?

“Hmmph”  

His sensitive ears picked up the soft grunt from down the hall immediately. His shoulders squared and tensed as his body leaned into a defensive position. Cautious fingers pulled the knife from his boot, ready for whatever may come at him as he approached. 

The sounds of soft breaths lead him to a door left ajar. Light just slipped past the curtains into the darkened room. Badum… Badum… Badum… a heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took a step closer, leaving the door open and letting further light fall onto the source of the noise. 

His wolfish gaze ran down your form as you lay there on your back, swallowed in the extra fabric of the old sweatshirt. Your hand rested casually over your stomach as your other one squished gently against your cheek. Your legs lay bare to the world after having kicked the overbearing sheets away, leaving just a glance of your underwear for him to take in.  

“Mmph” You grunted again as you shifted, your face now turned to him as that earthy scent of yours gripped him like a vice and refused to let go.

Your sweet sleep became interrupted though- much to his dismay- as the phone on your nightstand began to light up and buzz incessantly. Still, as a statue he watched as you groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you went to check what your device could possibly want at this ungodly hour. 

With one loose fist, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes away, blinking consciousness back into them until you saw Bucky’s illuminated figure before you, standing tall and quiet as he watched you intently. 

“Bucky..?” You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face as you saw the familiar face of your lover lit up by the bright light of your phone screen. But the longer you looked the more you noticed.

His eyes were all wrong, his gaze was devoid, that’s the only way you could put it. Devoid of meaning and humanity, it seemed every gaze- every movement- was a means to an end. Empty… save for a flicker of fear; It was probably the only thing in those eyes right now that registered as human. The fear of someone who was lost, unknowing of their purpose, and confused as to why your gaze was made his cold heart falter.

His expression was flat and stoic, save for the knit of confusion that pulled his brows together. His stance was tense and prepared, the discrete knife still glittering in his hands as he took another step forward, his head slowly shaking in response to your question. 

A gasp caught in your throat as you finally understood. Glancing at your phone you saw it was Sam who was calling, undoubtedly trying to tell you what you now already knew.

“Soldat…” You whispered, trying to hide the way his name sent shivers across your skin. Your phone went black then, as you didn’t pick up in time and you were left blind by the sudden darkness.

 You and Bucky had talked about what to do if you found him like this, “You call Sam and Steve, Okay? You find a place to hide and you stay far away, no matter what you hear. There’s no reasoning with him,” He had told you.

So much for that

Your phone lit up again with Sam’s urgent call, its revealing light sending ice down your spine as you saw the man nearly standing over you now, just a hair’s breadth away.

Your hand rose slowly, shaking as you tested a reach for your phone, stopping dead in your tracks as he let out a disapproving grunt. Your head nodded slowly as you gulped, returning your hand to your stomach as you watched his gaze finally shift away. 

With unbothered calmness, he looked toward your phone to see Sam’s face and name scrawled across your screen. Wordlessly he reached over and pressed the ‘decline call’ button, cutting the call short and leaving you two in perfect silence once more. 

Panic began to rise in your throat as his gaze turned back toward you, darkened now only by the lack of light. With slow movements the Winter Soldier reached out, putting the knife away as he crouched down, as if trying to attract a skittish animal. 

Your whole body tensed as his reach came closer, eyes screwing shut as you waited for the worst, “Please… Just don’t hurt her…” You whispered, fear and desperation rattling your voice, just as it did your anxiety-filled body. 

But the pain never came. Instead, the cool touch of metal fingers ran down your cheek, barely denting your flesh as he relished in its softness. Your eyes peeked open cautiously, as his fingers moved along the slope of your jaw, tilting your head up as he came to your chin. 

His eyes had changed, you noticed, instead of being a harsh blizzard, they had now settled into something more human, something warmer and… yearning? 

“Soldat..?” You questioned as you watched his lips part, his senses focused only on the way your body reacted to his touch. You were sure he could hear the rapid pattering of your heart beneath your ribs, its pace only increasing as his fingers moved down your neck and to the exposed collarbone in your loose neckline.

“Красивый [Beautiful]...,” was all he could reply. It came out so soft you weren’t sure you heard it at first, it’s quiet reverence meant for your ears and your ears only. “Из-за тебя он чувствует себя здесь в безопасности...? Замки дерьмовые, видимость слишком высокая, но ты… [Are you why he feels safe here…? The locks are shit, the visibility is too high, but you…]” He continued, quiet and unbothered as if he assumed you couldn’t understand him. 

“He’s been bugging me to get better locks all week…” you replied with a huff, quickly shutting up as his stare found your eyes again. Between Bucky’s ramblings in the night and Natasha’s tendency to only gossip in Russian, you had made an effort to learn it; You were still learning, and your pronunciation was shit, but your understanding had gotten far better. 

“And you have a good ear…” He spoke in English this time, the vague hint of an amused smile pulling at the assassin’s stern lips. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever done that before. If that odd little smile had been seen by anyone else- anyone still living that is.

A breath of relief left you as your lips stretched to mimic his, the tension easing out of your body a little by little.

His metallic touch continued to linger, running down your covered chest until it settled on the waistband of your underwear, the cool metal trailing across your ticklish skin. 

“Ah, wait, Sol-” You jumped at his touch, grabbing his wrist, despite knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if it’s what he wanted.

But instead of dipping his fingers lower, he simply tugged the oversized hoodie up, gathering it over your chest and exposing the firm baby bump concealed below. His head tilted to the side as he listened to the tiny heartbeat that fluttered in your belly as well as the thuds of its little movements against your skin. Slowly, still with that inkling of a smile, he turned to look at you, his hand hovering just above your vulnerable midsection as if awaiting permission. 

Heat rose to your cheeks as you hesitated. On one hand, you felt a surprising amount of calm under the assassin's touch, his need for your approval only increasing your sense of security. But on the other hand, Bucky would never be able to live with himself if something happened to you or the baby, accident or not. 

“Oh. I-” 

CRASH.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as were cut short by the loud noise. The door to your apartment slammed open, surely breaking the hinges with the sheer force of it. Over a dozen heavy boots stormed into your apartment as the lights turned on, flooding your senses and forcing the Soldier’s attention elsewhere. 

Your hand found his instantly, the heat of his calloused skin a comfort to you just the way Bucky’s was, especially as it squeezed around yours just the same. Sitting up properly now your sweatshirt swallowed your pregnant form once again and you peeked out to see just what was going on. 

Through The Winter Soldier’s defensive stance in front of you, his knife is now drawn once more, you watched a small armed group, covered in black tactical gear raid your home, all guns pointing towards you- or more accurately- the former assassin attempting to shield you. You recognized the symbols on their vests as the team’s secondary security force, having even met a few of them over the years. But where was the rest of the team? Where was Sam, and Steve, and Tony?

“Step away from the civilian!” “Put your hands in the air!” “Sir, drop the knife!” They all shouted, overlapping with each other as each of them rushed out their demands. 

“Don't shoot! It’s okay! It’s okay!” You rushed.

You tried to slip your hand from his, but he only held fast, “Soldat, please… It’s okay, just do what they say… They don’t want to hurt us. Please,” You urged, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, 

His defenses faltered as he listened to you beg him to stand down. It wasn’t the usual begging he heard in his line of work, and coming from your lips had his walls cracking in an unprecedented way. 

He shouldn’t have looked back at your eyes, wide and pleading, as they shook his walls further. Moving slowly he turned, kneeling before you despite the way the armed group yelled at him not to. You just held up your hand to them, pleading for them to be as gentle with him as he was with you. 

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” The warm flesh of his hand came up easily to cradle your face and a small smile pulled at him again as you leaned into his large palm. “Я только что нашел тебя. Я не потеряю тебя снова так быстро[I’ve only just found you. I will not lose you again so quickly]. ”

Your heart both swelled and pained for your Soldier. You looked into his eyes and saw a sense of certainty, a sense of knowing, you hadn’t seen from him earlier. “Oh… my soldier, my star,” Your fingers entwined with the hand holding your cheek, ”You can not lose me in any way that would last…” You whispered to him past the shouts, the commotion, and the tension, like you were the only two in the room. 

“Sir, put the knife down!” A young squad member called again, his voice far more concerned than his superiors. You didn’t recognize him or his number and you figured he must’ve been new. His gun trembled in his hands as he shouted again, but as the Soldier failed to move and the kid’s finger unexpectedly twitched, there came a sudden- 

BANG.

“Ah-!” Your face twisted with pain as you pulled away, “Fuck…!” Your hands instinctively grabbed your leg, clamping over the shooting pain in your calf that hit you- well- like a bullet. 

You winced again as you pulled one of your hands back, the raw skin of your leg angrily letting you know that it did not like being brushed against. Warm, wet crimson covered your fingers as you looked down, becoming slightly dizzy at how much had already covered your palm. You were thankful it only seemed to be a graze, but the burn you already felt and knowing you were losing blood had your stomach lurching in uncomfortable ways. 

Concern painted the assassin’s expression as you recoiled away from his doting touch, but as the unmistakable warm, metallic smell curled into his nose, his expression darkened dramatically. What was once kind, curious blue eyes now saw nothing but red as he caught sight of the wound slashing across your skin. His jaw set firmly, almost audibly grinding his teeth as he stood and turned to the young kid. 

You looked back at the newcomer as you tried to breathe through the pain, the horrified look on his face telling you that he knew he was a dead man walking. His face went ghost white as the super soldier stalked toward him and through even worse trembling hands he raised his gun to shoot again. 

“No…!”

A sickening thud rang out as the bullet hit the assassin square in his good shoulder, getting lodged in the muscly flesh. His shoulder jerked back at the force, but it wouldn’t stop his stride as he closed the gap. Another shot rang out, but with the solid vibranium arm now covering the barrel it did little to help this poor dumb kid. Snatching him by the neck, you watched as your assassin held him up until his feet kicked uselessly in the air. 

Every gun immediately trained on him and with their proximity you knew they wouldn’t miss a fatal shot if it came to it.

“Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Soldier, put him down!” You yelled as you maneuvered towards the edge of the bed. “Please, don't shoot, I can fix this!” you continued, trying to convince yourself as much as you convinced them. Familiar voices joined in on your plea as Sam and Steve finally entered the picture, urgently trying to talk down both the Winter Soldier and the secondary security team. 

“Bucky, It’s okay... Just put the kid down, alright?” Steve tried to reason with him, “He’s new, he doesn’t know what he’s doing yet.” Steve tried his best to stay calm and patient, but the young man was beginning to change colors now. “Bucky, put him down before you do something you can’t come back from.” But Bucky’s ears were deaf to the outside pleas and the Winter soldier refused to listen.

“Ah..!” You whimpered as you tried to stand and approach the commotion. The pain in your leg reached new heights as you tried to put weight on it, causing you to tumble to your knees almost immediately. You clutched your belly, hoping the sudden jostle wouldn’t upset the baby too much as you tried to get up again. 

“Hold on, Y/n. Stay down for a minute so we can wrap your leg…” Sam asked of you, moving over to help as soon as he saw the blood on your hands, “You’re losing plenty already.”

“No, I have to…. I can’t let him get hurt,” you argued, pushing away his helpful hands as you tried to stand again. You heard the crashing thud and rushed voices as you shakily got to your feet, leaning all your weight on your good leg. As you looked up again you came eye to eye with worry-filled icy blues.

“Sol-”

“Мое солнце  [My Sun]...” He interrupted, his metal arm snaking around your waist to pull you in possessively and away from those who threatened your safety. On the other side of the room, the nervous kid now coughed and wheezed for breath, but you were just happy to see he was still alive. 

“Please just listen to them. You’re already hurt, don’t get yourself killed…” you pleaded, your hand barely brushing over his bleeding wound before pulling his hand to your rounded belly. He tried to keep his expression steady, but you saw the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked down. “She needs someone looking out for her and I can’t do this on my own. I can’t keep away all the dangers of the world…” Your forehead rested against his as you tried to shift your weight, whining as you gave up and moved back. You couldn’t deny that this part of Bucky was her father too, even if he had been hidden away for ages, she was still his too. Whether Bucky would see it the same way you weren’t sure, but right now you were just concerned with making sure he got out of this alive. 

“I can’t do this without you…” 

The silence felt deafening as he considered. He never had to think about other people relying on him, not like this. His orders had always been to leave no threats, to finish his job and move on, no matter the cost to him. But the pain in his soft, fleshy shoulder was getting harder to ignore. The way his blood-soaked shirt clung to his arm now climbed to the forefront of his mind as he watched your big eyes stare back at him, desperate to understand. He was between a rock and a hard place. 

“I’ll be right beside you the whole time..” You assured him, “We both will, but please let everyone get us some help.” 

A gentle nudge pushed against his palm as his thoughts swirled around him, snapping him back to a single line of thought and he knew then. Defeat laid heavy on his shoulders as they slumped, accepting what must be done., “Мое солнц [My Sun] …”, He said, “Если вы так хотите, то я не буду жаловаться [If it is what you wish, then I will not complain].” 

You couldn’t tell just how long you had been holding the breath you let out, your muscles relaxing as he finally held his hands up. The security squad began coming forward with an array of cuffs, but it was Sam who stopped them this time, glancing back at you for confirmation as he assured them that they could take it from here. Despite the arguing and the hesitation, they seemed to relent, shifting their focus now to their injured colleague. 

Both Sam and Steve looked tired but relieved as they turned to the two of you, bloody and pained in your current state. Though they weren’t quite better; both of them looked like they had been the unfortunate punching bag of a certain super soldier mere hours before. Sam had bruises lining his arms from where he was surely blocking blow after blow and Steve smiled a bit with his busted lip, dried blood still stuck in the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s get you two to the tower…” 

----

The journey to the tower was quiet, your soldier never letting you out of arms reach as you all boarded the armored truck, and made your way up the tower and to the lab. 

Doctors tried to treat the both of you, but as soon as anyone dared to come close your assassin was right there to growl them back. They’d hardly be able to get past his possessive hands even if they could manage to get close, his touch keeping you pulled beside him at all times.

“Soldat…” you warned him, but he was too preoccupied gathering the medical bag they had been dropped. Coming over to you, there was no warning as he scooped you up from the ground and set you on a table to get to work. 

“Oh-!” You exclaimed as you held onto his strong shoulder, quickly getting plopped back down on the corner of the cold metal table. A shiver ran down your skin as you shifted against the sleek table, watching as practiced hands scoured through the medical bag, producing everything he needed as he went about fixing up your leg wordlessly. 

You were beyond thankful for the haze of the (baby-safe) painkillers as his fingers slid over the raw flesh. Despite the gentle numbing of the painkiller your fingers still lay tangled in his hair as he worked, only tugging in discomfort as the gauze wrapped tightly around your leg.

"Thank you..” You said when he finally finished, moving back to appreciate his work before giving it a satisfactory nod. His eyes had grown distant again, bits of confusion and uncertainty swirling in the storm of his eyes, and you reached out to stroke your thumb across his cheek. His stony cool expression remained as you touched him, his mouth staying a firm line as he instinctively leaned into your palm. You watched him for a moment before you continued, knowing that his thoughts must be far away.

“It's your turn now, big guy.... your shoulder is still seeping and you can’t keep losing blood like this," You urged him just as you had on the ride to the tower. He had refused to listen then, letting nothing else occupy his mind until he knew you were fully taken care of. But now as you sit safely before him, the only looming threats being Sam and Steve who seem to haunt the hallway outside, he finally relented.

You moved to stand, needing the angle to effectively dig out the bullet still lodged in his muscles, but he held you still with a single large hand on your shoulder, "Stay," he urged you with that low rumble of his. His eyes lingered on yours, ensuring you would do as he asked before he began to move again, gathering the supplies you would need.

He slid his bloody shirt off, revealing the weeping wound beneath and the scars of many wounds past. You expected him to stand in front of you, maybe sit so you could take care of him, but that didn’t seem to be the important thing right now.

He climbed up onto the cold table where you sat, curling onto his side with his back facing the door so his wounded shoulder sat closest to you. His head lay in your lap with a look of unmatched serenity as he pressed his forehead against your rounded belly. And there he rested, quiet and unmoving as he took his quiet moment. But he was far too exposed like this, far too trusting of “threats” lurking outside, and he almost reminded you of Bucky again. Was Bucky fighting to come back…? Was the Winter Soldier trusting you to watch his back? … or was he accepting of something you weren't sure he knew yet?

"Are you sure? It's going to be harder to take the bullet out this way. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to," you tried to explain as you pulled out the forceps.

But he simply shook his head, "I know my time here is short, my Sun..." he said with an even tone, no semblance of fear to shake his voice, "Please let me enjoy it like this…."

Your voice caught in your throat as he answered, his blunt acceptance and knowing catching you off guard. You wished beyond anything that you could soothe him, to tell him no one was going to hurt him or take him away again. But you wouldn’t lie to him, so instead you said nothing, Your words rasping as you replied, "Of course, My star…."

The room was quiet as you worked, the only noise the sweet mumblings from your boyfriend's lips as he filled your baby’s ears with loving promises. His body let out a grunt and a soft squelch as you finally tugged the crushed bullet out. Pain creased his brow but his words never faltered and neither did the nudges or kicks he got in reply.

Carefully you cleaned up the blood, packing the wound as best you could, but you were sure Tony and his team would be redoing it soon nonetheless.

A sigh escaped him as he heard you putting away your tools, "My Sun?" he asked.

"Yes?"

“Is it time…?”

You cast your eyes downward, looking into those confused and swirling blues as they watched you with unbridled hope.

You nodded, wiping away the tears that welled in your eyes, “It’s time…” you whispered.

He nodded, thinking quietly as he looked down at your belly again, his hand smoothing over the skin he’s exposed, “Will I see you two again…?” 

Your heart broke at the slight waver in his voice, “Oh, my star…” you said, resting your palm against his cheek, “It’s just like I said, ‘you can not lose me in any way that would last’. I’ll see you again and again, in this life and the next,” you assured as you leaned down to kiss his temple, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. Tears blinked from your eyes as you continued, “I don’t know when, or for how long, but you will see us again. You can always come home to me, and I will always be there to welcome you.” You leaned, slow as not to scare him, and kissed him gently as he turned again to look at you.

 It was awkward at first, but you didn’t mind, you couldn’t imagine the last time the Winter Soldier had felt such gentleness, let alone a kiss. 

But the moment was ripped away as the door opened, Steve, Sam, and Tony all standing in the doorway. “We’re ready for him,” Tony said simply, “Let's get this started so my lab techs can go home….” 

-----

You watched behind thick glass as Tony and his team of technicians attached various wires and machinery to Bucky’s body. Sam and Steve’s hands lie on your shoulders, trying to comfort you as you watch them finish tuning and placing everything. You watched as his blue eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, as still as a statue as he let them do their work.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to watch this…” Steve tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head. 

“No… I promised I’d see him off,” you replied, then thought with a pause, “Despite all the warnings Bucky gave me I’m happy I got to see him face to face…” 

“Well, it helps that he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of you…” Sam mumbled, getting an immediate nudge from you right in one of his bruises, “ Ow…okay, point taken.”

You smiled and shook your head. It was true though; despite the fear, blood, and death that dripped from his moniker, despite the pain you endured in his presence, you would do it all again. Bucky had hidden this part of him from you for so long, only ever showing you half of his face. And though you know he wouldn’t like it, you’re happy to finally see him in full light- to know and love him completely as he’s meant to be.

Tony says something that’s hard to make out through the glass, but you see him give a thumbs up to you all so he must have been ready. He moved to the switch, hesitating for a moment to let you say a quick goodbye. 

Your Soldier’s eyes found yours right away, but there was no trace of sorrow for you to see, no discomfort or fear. In fact, he seemed almost excited; excited and hopeful that when he saw you next he’d have a bundle of joy to look forward to as well. 

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” you watched him say beyond the glass.

“I’ll see you again, My stars. I’m sure of it…” You replied with a soft smile.

He had just enough time to smile softly back at you, an image now pleasantly etched in your brain before Tony flipped the switch and the reset procedure began. 

You covered your eyes quickly as Bucky’s body began to convulse, his strained grunts and shouts breaching containment despite the way he tried to hold it all back. The sounds of pain continued for minutes, but it felt far longer. Though, it wasn’t until it got quiet that you began to worry. 

“Is it done? Is it over...?” You asked the men on either side of you, afraid to peek past your hands for fear of the worst.

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, gritty and rough from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled, “Bucky...?”

_____________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @simpxinnie (sorry I forgot to tag!)

It's been a while since I've written for our favorite sad man, so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 9

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS ITS STILL TOO FUCKING LONG I HAD TO CUT IT AGAIN. T_T canon stuff/medieval health care might not be accurate so ROLLLL with it ok. please consider leaving comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Daemon takes you to the dining room, and upon entering, you are met with Rhaenyra and Alicent, who were in the middle of eating lunch. For a split second, you are happy to see them both, but then you remember the horrible news regarding the princess's mother.

Daemon is taken off-guard by how you pull away from him. He knits his brows, following after you as you head towards his niece, deeply annoyed by how easily you disregard him. But upon hearing the words you speak, he freezes.

"My deepest condolences, my princess," you curtsy at Rhaenyra before placing a hand on her shoulder.

She is dejected and her eyes are sullen as she turns to you.

"She was in active labor last I saw her..." you shake your head, finding the words to say, "it is terrible to be without a mother," you turn to your sister, placing a hand on her shoulder as well, "the pain never quite leaves you. My sister and I know it well."

Rhaenyra turns back to her food, "how good to know."

You frown and crouch down beside her, "darling."

Rhaenyra slowly turns back to you, tears now falling from her eyes.

"Pain is difficult... but I've come to realize," you swipe her cheek, "it makes peace all the more precious." You chuckle under your breath when your own eyes begin to water, "I would know."

Alicent frowns, quickly feeling her own eyes well up at the display.

The same happens to Daemon. He watches three girls weep and his face hardens as he comes to Rhaenyra's side, "bisa tolī kessa rēbagon, ñuha riña." This too shall pass, my girl.

Rhaenyra turns to her uncle as he grabs her hand, heavy tears stream down her face, "ziry ōdragon." It hurts.

Daemon is supposed to say something, but then he notices Alicent begin to fuss over you. You softly brush her off as you come to stand. Alicent is quick to stand with you, and she is glad to have done so, because you nearly topple back.

Rhaenyra's hand is quickly dropped when Daemon comes to your side, calling out your name. You sheepishly turn to him, apologizing over and back as he escorts you to a seat.

Rhaenyra stares at you as her uncle sits you in the chair across her She watches how Daemon treats you, thinking she's never seen him treat anyone like this before, much less a lady. It makes her sorrow all the more sour.

He brushes your back but only calms after your food is served and he's seen you eat a few bites. He takes a goblet of wine but his eyes remain fixed on you, "better?"

You turn to him, sheepish, still, "I am. Thank you, darling."

Alicent's eyes widen at the sound of the pet name. Rhaenyra rolls her eyes with a huff. It is precisely that sound that makes you realize what you've said. You were used to referring to Alicent and Rhaenyra that, it came so naturally this moment, "I- I mean-"

"Where is your father?" Daemon turns to Rhaenyra, seemingly not noticing your slip up. He did notice, but why wouldn't you call him darling?

Rhaenyra clenches her jaw as she shakes her head, "mourning his lost heir."

Both you and your husband's face fall. You turn from the princess to the prince, reaching for his hand. Daemon clutches your hand as his brows constrict, "your brother is dead?"

"Just last night," Rhaenyra absentmindedly stirs her food, "his and my mother's funereal will be held in a few hours."

Your heart hurts for her, "my deepest sympathies for your losses, princess."

There is a thick silence for a moment. You all find it quite hard to eat, but you do so regardless. You force feed yourself through the unpleasant churn in your belly. After a while, you look across the room, finding that it looked everyone was experiencing the same thing. You break the silence, turning to your sister, "perhaps Alicent can accompany you to the temple to pray. It did always help me."

Alicent turns to Rhaenyra, but she does not react.

Your sister looks back at you and you give her a nod of encouragment. Alicent thinks for a moment, "a walk there be good for you as well."

You smile at the red haired girl.

"My prayers are terrible," Rhaenyra mumbles.

You huff and frown at the thought, "it is impossible. No prayer is terrible, especially not one spoken in earnest."

Rhaenyra remembers how her septa would use you as an example for praying. She sniffles, "would you join us, aunt?"

You perk and immediately nod, "I would love t-"

"No," Daemon quips, placing his silverware down, "I do not want to be subjected to tolling bells and incense."

You all turn to him as Daemon turns to you. You slowly shake your head, "if... that is the case, you do not have to come."

Daemon's eyes widen ever so slightly in offense.

"Perhaps you can wa-"

"Kesan daor mītepagon ao ñuha ābrazȳrys," I will not lend you my wife, says Daemon to Rhaenyra.

You turn from your husband to his niece. Rhaenyra looks back at you, "he says he will not lend you to me."

Your lips part, giving him a look, "Daemon."

"She has your sister," he turns to you, "if they need another companion, lend her your ward."

A long silence passes.

Rhaenyra stares her half-empty plate and decides that's as much as she'll ever get to eat in this moment. She pushes her chair back and stands, "I'm quite finished," she looks between the table. Alicent takes a final spoonful before standing as well.

"Raqagon aōha ābrazȳrys, kepa," enjoy your wife, uncle, Rhaenyra says as she walks off. Alicent follows after her, and both girls look at you as you stand to greet them goodbye. Daemon simply looks at his niece.

Rhaenyra, though she always harbored a special affection towards her uncle, could not find it in her to project her ire out on you, for you were nothing but kind to her, and after all, you were her closest friend's older sister. She nods at you as she leaves, "princess."

"Princess," you nod back and do the same for Alicent, "sister. Take care of each other."

Once they are gone, you sit back down and glare at Daemon.

It takes a moment for him to realize it. When he catches your look, his brows contort. You immediately quip, "would it very hard for you to stomach the ambience of the temple for an hour?"

Daemon turns back to his plate. He thinks of the night he came to you at the temple, "just because I came for you does not mean I wish to do the same for Rhaenyra."

You knit your brows deeply, not having a clue on what he's saying, "what?"

The image of sorrowful wailing still haunts him, and your prayer for death is not something he wishes to hear ever again. You cannot pray such prayers if you are not in that fucking place, "I forbid you from going to the temple."

"You forbid me?" you ask, flabbergasted.

"It is my prerogative where I go, and-" he turns back to you, "where my wife does."

You stare at him for a moment. You feel frustration bubble in your belly, "Daemon."

Anger bubbles in his belly.

You reach for his hand and gaze upon him in confusion, "the child's mother is dead."

He looks at your hand before his away, "I knew her mother longer than she has."

You chuckle in disbelief, pulling your head back. He looks at you, jaw set and eyes glassy. You shake your head slowly, "that's not fair."

"Isn't it?" Daemon laughs, hurt by your sentiment.

"Her mother is dead," you shake your head rapidly, "she who taught her everything she kno-"

Daemon stands abruptly, jaw and fists clenched tightly, making you flinch. He stares at you for a long moment and you feel your breath begin to grow heavy. You slowly reach for his hand, half expecting him to rip his arm away. When he does not, you come to a stand, "Dae-"

"You impress me with your commitment to understand everyone else but I."

His words stab you like a spear through the chest. Your eyes begin to water, "is that what you think I'm do-"

"Then what?!" he snaps, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks.

You begin to sob and you take his cheeks, "I'm trying to make you understand what I am thinking, why I want to go with Rhaenyra, because I know what it fee-"

"Do I not mourn?" Daemon swats your hand away from him. He quickly turns away when his tears begin to fall. He does not get to notice how you twitch at his action, nor how instantly your heart begins to race.

He walks off to the door, stopping for a moment, waiting for you to come after him. You do not.

More accurately, you cannot. You clutch your chest and try to calm yourself before you slip into a full blown attack. You force yourself to take five deep breaths, and thankfully, you do not feel light headed.

Daemon, too wrapped up in his self-suffering, does not even think to look at you and storms out of the dining room.

By the time the doors slam shut, you are able to bring yourself to go after your husband. You move as quickly as you can, convincing yourself sprinting was worth it if you managed to catch up to Daemon. The thing was, you were still a terrible runner, and it if wasn't hard enough to catch your breath, you were screaming out the prince's name as you did, making it doubly hard.

Daemon, on the other hand, did not have to try to walk as fast as he did. He is walking so fast, if anyone were to crash into him, they would shoot off and hurt themselves.

It doesn't take long for you to lose your breath, and though you didn't want to, your body to forces you to stop. You were so close. You managed to catch a whiff of Daemon's silver hair, but now everything was turning silver... then black. You reach to the side to lean against the wall, but you miscalculate your reach and shift your weight, only to slip and crash roughly onto the ground.

You're so out of breath, no sound comes out of you when you crash. The pain is immense, yet you are rendered mute. Your ribs throb at the impact of colliding against the stone floor. You do not know it, but your nose it bleeding too.

It's a wonder that you did not pass out. Or perhaps it was the gods' will for you to feel fibre of your body strangle itself from how your lungs struggled, as punishment for being unkind to your husband.

You do know know it, but two Gold Cloaks find you on the floor. They are quick to bring you to the maester's ward. You hear them explain to the measter how they found you, and you muster up your remaining energy to say, "Daemon... please."

The two Gold Cloaks understand and leave with the intent of sending your husband to you. They will not manage to find him till much later for he went off on dragonback.

You lie on one of the cots in the maester's ward, staring at the ceiling you've come to know all too well. You know your maester can do little to help you in this moment, but you are grateful for his care nonetheless.

"You mustn't strain yourself in your condition, your grace," the old man says, "you are carrying a child within you."

You tense at his words. Your sit up and straighten your back, rapidly shaking your head, "b-but, maester, how can that be? It cannot be."

He offers you a solemn look, "your father, Lord Hand, has made us monitor you-"

"He does not finish inside me," you quip and frantically motion, "he- he... he spills on my skin. How then can I be with child?"

The maester is taken aback by your confession. He does not give himself away though and calmly explains, "it is still possible for... the seed take root from premature ejaculation."

You are floored by this information. You shake your head in disagreement, "but— he will not believe me."

"He does not have to. It does not ch-"

"He will do everything to villainize me. He will accuse me of infidelity."

He frowns, "I can explain it to-"

"No!" you grab his arms, "you must not tell him! You must not tell a soul."

He pulls his head back, "your grace..." he brings your hands slowly off him, "you can only hide such a thing for so long."

You shake your head and bring yourself to stand, "it is a worry for another time."

"Wait- you cannot leave-"

"I cannot miss the queen's funeral."

The maester does his best to prevent you from leaving. He calmly tries to lead you back to bed and explain that no one would fault you for being unable to attend. You are persistent however and managed to get out of the room. Two other maesters come and try to reel you back in, and it is the same time your wards come running in.

News of you fainting had spread like wildfire, and both their faces were marked with avid worry. "Princess!" they call in unison.

"Make them release me!" you wail in exhaustion as you fight off the maesters.

"She cannot go," your maester says, "she is far too weak."

"Unhand her this instant!" Erryk barks, ready to forcefully shove the old men away from you.

The maesters pull away in shock and confusion as Erryk imposes upon them. Arryk is the one to keep you upright, and he is horrified by the state you are in. You lean into his armour, lulled by his hard steel as you sigh in exhaustion.

"You would subdue her in such a state?" Arryk snaps.

"She is hysterical," the maester says, "she is not strong enough to-"

"Aye, but she's strong enough to fight off 3 grown men?" Arryk grits his teeth as he keeps you upright, "have you not given her medication?"

He sighs, "there is no medication fo-"

"Then what business has she here?" Erryk raises his brows, "you'd keep her to rot?"

The man scoffs, "I am offended, ser, that you think you know better than I when it comes to the health of the princes."

"I do know better," Erryk snaps, "you will not treat her like a prisoner if she asks to leave again."

"Ha!" the maester snaps, "fine! I'm sure the days you've spent gutting men has made you learned in the ways to heal them, ser."

With that, the maesters leave and you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders. You sigh as Erryk turns to you, seeing the hardness of his face soften in real time. You frown, "you should not have done that."

"My duty?" he narrows his eyes, "they had you surround like a criminal."

Arryk nods, "I fear they might have bruised you."

You sigh, fighting back tears. You steel yourself away and shake your head, "I should prepare for the funeral."

You do just that and Erryk and Arryk escort you to the funeral. You immediately spot Daemon, but he was stood beside his brother and niece, so you did not think it proper to interlope. You find Alicent standing just a few paces from Rhaenyra and debate to join her, but then you see the Lord Hand farther behind her, and you feel the need to cry.

"Papa," you mumble to yourself as you go to him.

Your father is quick to recognize your distress once you come to him, and quickly takes you under his arm. It is so instinctive, the Cargyll twins are shocked by it. They were supposed to keep close watch on you, but they decided to give you and your father privacy.

Otto had long decided physical affections were no use to you, and yet in this moment, he pulls you into him, securing one arm your shoulders. You press your cheek into his chest as you steal a glance at the king. Viserys stands before two lifeless bodies, and the sight mirrored that of the day your mother died.

You wrap your arms around your father.

He sighs, eyes throwing daggers at the Rogue fucking prince, "did he take the news badly?"

You shake your head, "I have not told him."

Otto sighs again, agitated and disappointed. His face is crestfallen as calls out your name, "what happened then?"

"I am terrified."

Your father tenses and clenches his jaw. He strokes your hair, doing his best to ignore the awful sounds you were making. "The gods with strengthen you, daughter." he turns to Alicent, "I will take care of it, my girl."

After the funeral, once Otto made sure you are taken care off, he goes to his other daughter and asks about the princess. Alicent is quick to explain to him that Rhaenyra is so much like you when your mother died, "I have not seen Rhaenyra in such a state."

Otto offers Alicent a soft smile, placing a hand on her cheek, "you are ever empathetic, daughter, to both the princess and your sister."

"Sister did not look well at the funeral either. I should check up on her."

"That won't be necessary," her father raises a hand, "I've seen to her already. She needs only to rest now."

Alicent slowly nods.

"You ought to offer some empathy to the king however."

The girl tenses at the thought.

"Unlike your princesses, the king does not have people to go to at this time. Even now, he's secluded himself in his chambers. It would be good of you to go to him from time to time, if only to express how you keep him in your prayers."

Alicent tries to make sense of it. She clenches her jaw, "wouldn't it be more appropriate for you to do this, father?"

He chuckles lowly, "how much sadder would he be if a widower offer another widower his bitter prayers?"

She stills at the thought and understands. Or so she thinks.

Otto smiles and places a hand on her shoulder, "it might be best if you keep private your visits to him. You need not explain your concern to Rhaenyra to further distress her."

She nods in understanding. In truth, she does not understand the true intentions of her father, and will not until it is far too late.

As this was happening, you were trying to get ahold of Daemon. You could not for he was quick to leave the funeral right after it concluded. He had seen you crying to your father and wanted to wash his eyes with alcohol, unwanting to behold such a gruesome sight. It stung far too much that you sought comfort in that cunt face. Why didn't you cry to him instead?

Daemon washes alcohol down his throat instead with members of his City Watch at his favorite brothel. Mysaria is there to keep him company and though her touch and words are gentle, he cannot find solace in them like he once did.

The two guards who had found you on the floor earlier today hear about the gathering and go to the prince to tell him what had happened to you.

"Your grace."

Daemon sulks as he stares at a cup of wine. Mysaria, who was stood behind his chair, looks at the men then to the silver haired man, "my prince. These men want to speak to you."

"Wha-what for?" he snaps through a hiccup.

"Your wife, my prince," one says.

Mysaria stiffens, lips parting. She was not a stranger to Daemon's foul moods and prided herself in easily defusing them. It changed when he married the Hightower girl. Though it was evident most of his frustrations stemmed from you, you were too much of a touchy subject, which is why she says, "I do not think he wants to talk about her."

"A whore should not stand meddle with concerns she cannot understand."

Mysaria scoffs, thinking about how Daemon fucked her once and called out his bride's name. When she brought it up after, he screamed, telling her he doesn't pay her to ask questions. She steps back and crosses her arms, "be my guest then."

One of the two guards lean forward in an attempt to gain the attention of the distracted man, "prince Daemon. We wished to report something regarding your wife."

Daemon ticks. He had been gazing into space, but now he has the wits to pours himself a drink, "is she dead now too?"

The two are taken aback. Mysaria steps back a few paces.

"N-no, your grace. But she-"

"Then do not FUCKING mention her to me!" Daemon snaps, jolting from his seat. His scream was loud enough to cause the noise to cease. He grabs his cup and downs his drink in one go. He then pushes past the two guards and begins to monologue.

"The gods give as the gods take," he says, voice horse and eyes misty. "Try as they may, I am not so easily replaced."

The room is solemn as they look upon the prince. He is clearly distraught and wholly drunk.

He stares at his cup, "wine does not taste sweeter with tears. Tonight, we drink to the Heir For A Day..." he burps, "perhaps he would have liked wine."

Back in the keep, as Alicent leaves her father's quarters, you go to them, which is why you cross paths. She is concerned by how you lean into ser Cargyll's arm as you walk, and immediately comes to your side, "sister?"

"Alicent," you smile, immediately perking up.

"Lady Hightower," the knight greets her.

"It's ser Erryk," you playfully whisper with a smile.

Alicent turns to you and offershim as soft smile, "ser Erryk."

"You spoke to father, surely," you take her hand, making her look back at you, "is his mood grim?"

She shakes her head, "no. He is... relatively placid, I think."

"Good," you break away from Erryk. He assures you are firmly planted on your feet before releasing you, "I can talk to him then."

"Shouldn't you rather be resting?" she asks in concern.

"It is urgent. I-" you shake your head, "I cannot delay any further."

Alicent realizes then that your hair was fully undone and slightly messy now. You were also in your thick velvet robe, and it only causes her further concern. "I know I am not Gwayne, but if there is anything you wish to speak of," she squeezes your hands, "I am hear to lend an ear."

Your lips wobble, but you steel yourself away. You crush your sister into your arms and pepper her cheeks with kisses, "my sweet girl. I am five years your senior. I must lend you my ear." You pull away and cup her cheeks. You frown when you see her glassy eyes, "do not worry for me."

She chuckles rather sadly, "we help but worry always for those we love."

Erryk heart pinches at the solemn exchange of the two sisters. He is glad to know that at least one more person in your family loved you with gentleness. He makes mental note to encourage you to write to your brother.

When Alicent leaves, you take a breath before knocking on the Hand's door.

"Enter."

You walk in and find your father busy at his desk.

"Father."

Otto looks up at you, immediately coming to stand, "what's wrong?"

You close the door behind him, catching Erryk's encouraging gaze. He nods before you shut the door. You turn to you father, finding he was already walking towards you.

He takes your hand, inspecting you. He speaks your name carefully, and it softens your frigid demeanor, "what has happened?"

You smile sadly, "I cannot sleep."

He sighs, partially relieved it is nothing so severe. He walks towards the door, "I will have one of the maids send you warm milk and honey."

"There is something I must tell you," you say, making him stop.

He turns back you, antsy over your serious tone, "if it is regarding Daemon. Do not worry. I have designs to keep him on a leash."

You release his hand and turn to your feet.

His expression hardens. He knows whatever you have to say is grave because you can no longer look at him. He steps forward and takes your cheeks, "daughter."

You look up at him, face stained with tears.

"Go to bed," he wipes your cheeks, "you'll muster the nerve to tell your husband the news soon en-"

"He does not finish inside me, father."

"..."

"I've-" you choke on your breath, "I've spoken about it to the maesters and he's explained it is possible for the seed to take root from premature ejaculation but-"

"Have you strayed?" Otto tightens his hold a fraction.

You are aghast by his statement and rapidly shake your head, "father, I wou-"

"Then there is nothing to fear," he cuts you off, brows tensing, "your child will be born with silver hair and violet eyes, and-"

"Only I inherited your hair color," you mumble, beginning to tremble, "if my child looks too much like me—" you rapidly shake your head, "he will-"

"Enough," he snaps, shaking you slightly.

You chest begins to tighten.

Otto notices and brushes your hair out of your face. He recites the common prayer you used to pray with your mother, "Seven, hear me. Father, strengthen me. Mother, protect me. Warrior, d—"

"Defend me," you sigh, joining in, "Smith, mend me."

"Mend my daughter," Otto mumbles softly.

"Maiden, beautify me," you say together, "Crone, enlighten me. Stranger, guide me."

Otto nods and strokes your hair, "now breathe."

It takes a few deep breaths, but you are calm now. He leads you to the door and opens it. "Oh, good," he says, once spotting your ward, "you're not entirely useless."

Erryk walks over to you, ignoring your father completely as he takes you by the arm.

"Take her to bed and have some warm milk and honey served to her."

"Yes, my lord," he says, though not sparing the lord a glance.

You, however, do, looking back with a soft smile, "good night, father."

He is about to reply, but then comes a servant boy, holding a plate of crackers and cheese, who freezes at the sight of the crowded entry. He thinks he's made a mistake, so he turns to leave, but Otto raises a hand and beckons the boy over, "come."

The boy walks past you, mumble a soft, "milady."

You smile and nod, "good evening."

Erryk eyes him suspiciously as he enters the room but refocuses on walking you back.

Otto closes the door and the boy places the crackers on the table. The man circles 'round to his desk and sits down, "what news do you bring me today?"

"Prince Daemon at the brothel, milord," the boy says, rolling back and forth on his heels.

The Lord Hand's face twists in contempt. He pulls his desk open and procures a cold coin.

The boy gleefully takes it and begins to explain the events that take place.

[the-bed-gremlins-reading-list]

My Marriage to the Cursed Royal

Demo: Twine on Itch.io Last Update: 9/6/2024

Rating: 18+

Synopsis

When you meet with an unfortunate accident in the real world you find yourself cast into the role of the younger Medulloi sibling. Your elder brother is the Duke of Ausones, a small and recent addition to the Nasennii Empire.

For three hundred years the Imperial war machine has fueled the Nasennii expansionism across the continent of Fantasia. A war machine that has been unable to advance across the northern expanses that make up Ithel.

Imperial superstition maintains that it is unlucky for a commander to remain unwed - so when the Royal Bastard, the Emperor's cursed child, makes little headway in the campaign a marriage in absentia is arranged.

A marriage to you.

It's a new world with a spouse you have never met.

Oh, except one itty-bitty thing - Fantasia Crown Wars is one of the most popular media franchises to exist. (Oh, and a savvy fan knows that Auberon Medulloi's younger sibling died.)

Characters

Auberon Medulloi - The Duke of Blood

Your new half-brother. He's famous among fans for his brutality as a military commander and the cold calculus with which he approaches his alliances when he's introduced during the third book of the main series. You know him as your warm, slightly fussy elder half-brother who frets himself silly over taking care of your family's lands and makes you sweets when you feel sad. He's joined you in the Imperial Capital to insure that you're safe and have all the support you could possibly stand. In the books he becomes the most feared leader of a rebellion against the Nassenian throne. One that was destroyed by your spouse and leads to Auberon's eventual execution.

Lucius/Lucia Nasennia(us) - Your Spouse, the Cursed Royal (RO)

They are the emperor's eldest child, the illegitimate one whom misfortune follows like an old friend. They were born in the dead of a moonless night and gifted with the ice magic of Ithel through their mother's veins. The priesthood has sworn should they ever take the throne it will be the end of the Nasennian Empire. And yet they are among the most gifted commanders of the age, it is on them victory against Ithel and peace among the conquered lands depend. The books described them as cold and calculating. The blockbuster movie saw them behead their younger brother after arranging the death of their father. They were also supposed to be unwed.

Marcus Nasennius - The Golden Prince (RO)

The third child of the emperor and the heir to the throne after the death of their sister. Marcus has always been the charmer of the royal family, the one for whom life was easy and joyful. He's said to have been blessed by the Empire's gods - born on a bright summer day in the heat of noon, and gifted with command of light magic he has always been placed in competition with his elder brother by the court, but they were friends once. Marcus was one of the main characters of the books - and the classic prince charming had always quite popular. So popular, in fact, that after his tragic demise in the movie he was brought back to life in the television show.

Rossella Catilia - The Red Mage (RO)

The Catilia family has stood behind and beside the throne of Nasennia since the War of Sparks founded the nascent Empire. They are wealthy and powerful and Rossella is the same age as Prince Marcus. She was brought to court at a young age and raised with the expectation that she would be among those considered as his match. A marriage she's openly appalled by due to her close friendship - and lack of romantic feelings for both the royal brothers. Still she's publicly considered the picture of what an Imperial Lady should strive for. Like many Imperial nobles she has some talent as a mage with a reputation as a skilled healer. In the books Rossella played the part of peacemaker between the brothers until her sudden foreign marriage removed her from the picture during TFCW's brief period as a graphic novel. (A move her fans hated almost as much as the scarlet color her hair was colored with on those pages.)

Caerwyn - The Assassin from Ithel (RO)

Bright, obnoxious, oh, and a vampire. This Ithellen assassin was meant to be your death. You're still not sure what changed his mind, nor why he's decided to serve you as your personal "spy-slash-assassin-slash-bodyguard-slash-gossip-gatherer". Caerwyn's appeared in the plot far earlier than he should have based on the books, where he only emerges out from the shadows after Ithel's defeat. Following the demise of his homeland he had come to serve your brother, Auberon. Caerwyn is among those that is supposed to be killed by your spouse, having dramatically sacrificed himself to ensure the escape of the rebel army and leading to that arc lasting much longer than anyone expected it would.

Rune Leleux - The Knight? (RO)

Like the assassin Caerwyn, Rune Leleux has shown up in the story far earlier than they should have. In fact you have a strong suspicion that the next book that was suppose to release in a month will reveal that the person introduced as a wandering bounty hunter and oath-breaking knight stole the real Leleux's identity. The Rune Leleux you know serves as your brother's faithful knight and right hand. They've been your friend since you were children. You can't see how the soft-spoken, if sometimes sarcastic, warrior who helps you live in Fantasia could possibly be the brutal and heavily scarred murderer draped in wolf skin that the Bastard Royal hires to help assassinate the emperor and sabotage the capital's defenses.

Robin Watcher - The Bard (RO)

This sweet natured bard is a minor character in the canon - like your new identity is. Or at least, she must be, because you definitely can't remember her from anywhere. (Maybe she was one of those unnamed extra in that one made-for-tv movie that everyone prefers to forget exists?) Whoever this bard is she always seems to know quite a bit about whoever happens to be around - and, well, she's rather curious about you. (In more ways than one.) Also, no one seems to know who she is or where she came from, just that she's great with instruments and has a very pretty voice.

WIP Warning: Any information contained in this post is subject to change as the project develops. The same goes for information posts on this blog.

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (5/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: the angst, sexual tension, targcest stuff, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, mention of murder ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

I will treat you like my little sister.

He had no idea what had crossed his mind to say something so pathetic and absurd – he thought at that moment that he had to find a way to make her choose him, not Daemon, at the time of the trial.

Since her father had abandoned her, he would let her stay by his side, since her father had denied her her inheritance, he would let her be part of it, since her father did not want her to be part of his family, he would let her become it in his eyes.

Until they win the war.

He didn't know what he would do with her afterwards, once they had defeated his sister – she might begin to demand more, putting pressure on him, threatening that she had a dragon she could always take away from them.

He thought, trying to quell the inner feeling of guilt, that he might have to kill her.

Now, however, she had to love what he could give her.

What he could be for her.

He was sure that he had her in his grasp, that she craved him both spiritually and physically, that she would become a docile shadow of herself just to satisfy him.

She, however, once again acted as if nothing had happened.

Neither the way he had shamelessly touched her nor what he had said to her allowed the wall she had built between herself and him to collapse – worse, he had the feeling that for some reason she had closed herself in even deeper.

Walking with him through the valleys, she remained silent, not even bestowing a single glance on him, thoughtful and focused on her task.

She walked a few steps behind him – she did not seek his proximity, she did not try to start a conversation, she did not do what the ladies of the court did, hoping to fall to the fate of the prince's wife.

This made him feel uneasy and uncomfortable – he had the feeling that he had made a fool of himself and she had seen through his plan.

He wondered if this was all a good idea, or if maybe he should pull out his dagger and just kill her, instead finding someone else in her place, someone who would be easier to manipulate.

And then they heard it.

A screech in the skies.

They both fell to the ground as a large, dark dragon flew over their heads, landing in a valley not far away, burning several sheep beforehand that had tried to flee from it in terror.

They started to run in that direction, clambering down the stones, stopping only when the dragon's head turned towards them, concerned.

He looked at her and swallowed hard, watching with some kind of admiration as she moved towards the creature, several times her own size, without any hesitation.

A male dragon the size of Meleys, he thought with satisfaction.

He could fight and make a difference, protecting him and Vhagar.

The dragon roared squeakily, opening his maw, tense, ready to breathe fire, her hand extended forward.

"Daor!" She called out.

The dragon hesitated, the red flame in his maw extinguished, but he continued to hiss, shifting on his paws closer and closer to her, as if considering whether to devour her.

"Lykirī!" She said and, to his surprise, crouched down on the ground, still keeping her hand stretched forward.

The dragon stopped in his half-step, as bewildered as he was.

What the fuck was she doing?

She was supposed to get on its back, not sit down.

However, the dragon seemed intrigued. He closed his maw and leaned forward as if to sniff her – she sat with her legs crossed, placing her hands on her thighs, simply looking at him.

"Lykirī." She repeated, and the dragon croaked, however in a different way than before. He walked sideways around her and circled her figure, making a strange high-pitched sounds, and she watched him the whole time, a wide smile on her lips.

"What are you doing?" He asked loudly, feeling his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

He hadn't burned her yet.

A good sign.

"He can't feel I'm a threat to him. When I sit I'm smaller and I don't move. He needs to get to know me." She said lightly, extending her hand towards the dragon as if she was just trying to tame the dog – the dragon extended its muzzle towards her slightly, but did not touch her, instead gushing warm steam from his nostrils at her.

She laughed.

Gods, they didn't have time for this.

"Try to mount him." He commanded, seeing with excitement that this beautiful beast with spikes on its back seemed to accept her.

He will return to King's Landing with two dragons.

He will win this fucking war.

His cousin gave him a stern look from above her furrowed brows and shook her head as if she thought he was a fool.

"That's what gets people like you killed. Lack of patience." She said with an anger from which he felt himself boil inside. He moved at her suddenly, furious, making the dragon step back and hiss, and she rose from her place.

"– FUCKING MOUNT HIM, I SAID –" He shouted and froze as the dragon's maw aimed at him opened, the pillar of fire in his throat testifying to what he wanted to do.

"– DAOR – DAOR, SHEEPSTEALER –" She called out desperately, standing between them, extending her hand in front of her. "– Rȳbas! –"

The dragon stepped back at once and squealed, howling like a child being rebuked by its mother, writhing from side to side with its eyes fixed on him.

"– YOU SCARED HIM! –"

"– he is a dragon – how the fuck could I scare him? –" He asked in a voice trembling with rage thinking that she was talking some sort of tendentious feminine nonsense.

"– he was trying to protect me – he senses your lies, your hypocrisy – he knows you are deceiving me, he knows what you want – what you will do with me when it's all over –" She exclaimed to him with tears in her eyes.

He didn't know why he had lost his voice completely, looking at her with big eyes, feeling that he was quivering all over, his throat and guts clenched as if she had punched him in the stomach with her fist.

She sat down again and he stepped back, doing the same, simply watching as the dragon lay down opposite her and crawled closer, without touching her nonetheless.

For a few hours, he watched with a blank stare as she lay next to this dark beast with her arm outstretched, while the dragon rolled around her and squawked like it was a puppy.

He was trying to protect me.

He knows you are deceiving me.

What you will do with me when it's all over.

He swallowed hard, looking away.

He was doing all of this for his family.

He didn't want to kill her – he only feared she would become a threat.

A problem.

And with those, he didn't know what to do.

The easiest way was for them to just disappear.

He shuddered when he heard her footsteps, the dragon behind her squealed, but stayed where he was.

"What are you doing?" He asked, rising with her, escorting her away with his eye as she walked past him without a word.

"That's enough for today." She said, and he felt his jaw clench in rage and regret.

Now she was going to give him orders?

"You are to mount him."

"I will." She threw over her shoulder.

He clenched his eyes, shaking his head and cursed under his breath, following her to Vhagar's lair.

They didn't have time for this.

He watched with indifferent eyes as she, a woman, did what had been a man's task and vocation for centuries – with a sharply pointed stick she threw into the water she hunted for fish while he ate what he took with him.

When she returned, welted and pink with exertion, he watched as, with the knife he had used to cut bread, she cut off the heads of the fish and began to scrape the scales from them.

She rubbed some herbs into them that she had probably found along the way, and then impaled each one on a stick, which she rested on top of two others over the hearth so as not to burn them.

Curls of her dark hair that were not braided clung to her sweaty red cheeks, her lashes even longer in the flames of the fire, her irises infinitely black but not empty, filled with something he did not understand.

They were silent – all around them only the sizzle each time she added wood to the hearth and turned the stick of fish to roast them properly on all sides.

When she thought they were ready, she took out two wooden bowls and slid them into it.

He swallowed hard as she handed him one of them without a word, herself placing the other between her crossed legs, tearing pieces of meat from the bones with her fingers.

"I didn't poison them." She said softly, putting the bite into her mouth, swallowing it at last without even giving him a single glance.

As much as he wanted to think of it that way, her attitude wasn't aggressive or defiant – on the contrary, he had the feeling that something inside her had faded.

He lowered his gaze, shamefully grabbing a piece of fish and, like her, tore off a piece of meat, putting it in his mouth. It was tasty; the herbs she had rubbed into it added a pleasant, salty flavour, the meat was crispy and melted in his mouth.

For some reason he felt tears under his eyelids.

He was furious with himself for being so pathetic.

Even though he knew she was freezing, she lay alone on the other side, covering herself with one of the blankets as soon as she finished her meal.

Some part of himself kept telling him that he had a right to do this, that he had a right to think of her this way, to use her as his brother-king had used him.

However, another whispered that he was disgusting, that if his mother knew what he planned to do she would look at him with disappointment and pain from which his heart would break.

He couldn't be both the caring, sensitive son and the cold, shrewd prince who would protect them from falling.

Like his mother, brother and sister, he simply wanted to live and hold in his hands what was rightfully his.

He looked at her, her figure curled up from the cold, her small hands clenched into fists, and felt ashamed.

I will treat you like my little sister.

I will care for you, and your place will always be by my side.

He felt embarrassment because some part of him wanted this.

To have his little sister, a copy of his mother, who at the same time would not be his mother, but someone only his, his destiny, his relief, his solace, warm, gentle hands, soft, plump breasts between which he could cuddle his face and hide if only for a moment, the scent and warmth he so longed for but could never ask for.

Not out loud.

His body lay down behind her on its own, embraced her on its own, hugging her to his chest, wrapping the second blanket around them, his fingers tightening on their own around her shoulders, his face sinking on its own into the crook of her fragrant neck.

He closed his eyes and felt her gasp as his manhood pulsed hard, pushing against her buttocks, his hands ran over her wrist up to her fingers, entwining them together.

He felt a squeeze in his throat, felt painful tears under his eyelids, felt his eyebrows arch in the pathetic despair that was his realisation that he was alone because he had so decided, over and over again humiliating himself by chasing a simple tender embrace.

He heard her draw in a loud breath as his erection swelled all over, pulsing and twitching even harder, her fingers tightening on his as if she was afraid of what he wanted to do.

"Sleep." He whispered in a trembling voice, feeling a single tear run down the side of his face to the ground, his thumb stroking the soft skin of her hand.

I'm sorry, he thought, but no words left his throat.

I'm sorry, but I can't do it any other way.

The next day they waited by one of the herds, watching the shepherds and their flock from above, hoping, surely to their despair, that Sheepstealer would arrive, encouraged by the vision of a feast.

"DRAGON!!!!!" Shouted one of them, pointing a finger upwards – they both looked to the side and saw a shadow pass over them like an arrow – the men managed to dodge to the side and run away, however, several sheep were burned on the spot.

They both ran downhill, but this time he let her go ahead, surprisingly sure of what she wanted to do.

He decided, albeit reluctantly, that he would try to be patient and give her another day.

To his surprise, the dragon seemed overjoyed by her presence – he cackled high and swished his tail, then moved the carcass of one of the sheep towards her with his head, apparently wanting to share his meal with her.

She laughed, shaking her head, sitting down on the ground again.

"Daor. Daor." She said, but Sheepstealer didn't seem to understand what she meant after all, as he threw the leftover burnt bones and meat into her lap, looking at her expectantly.

She swallowed hard, tore a piece of meat off the bone and put it in her mouth, looking straight into the beast's eyes.

The dragon, as soon as she did so, fell to the ground and stared at her as if it was observing something beautiful. When she reached out her hand to him he put his muzzle out and let her touch him.

He closed his eyes and sighed, feeling relieved.

Feeling pride.

His cousin shifted to the dragon on her knees, and he watched with interest as she came to his side, placing her hand on his back – he felt his heart beat quickly when the dragon made no movement, the sound it made from its throat gentle, as if encouraging her to do it.

As soon as she had managed to get on his back, Sheepstealer rose, spread his wings and soared into the sky.

He gasped in disbelief, hearing her squeal and laugh, seeing her circling around them, wondering if she would burn him now for everything he had done to her.

She could have done that.

He was defenceless.

But after a short ride she commanded him to land in the same place, and as soon as she slid to the ground she fell to her knees.

She was panting heavily, staring at the clouds as if she was thanking the gods in her mind that she had survived this.

"I did it." She said, picking herself up from the ground and walked towards him, her face flooded with tears of happiness and disbelief. "Gods, I did it."

She stood in front of him, looking at him with her big doe eyes, for some reason looking more beautiful than ever, all welted and glistening with sweat, her lips swollen with emotion, her dark lashes with tear drops shining like stars.

"Take me home." She breathed out, and he felt a squeeze in his heart at her words, a pain, as if she had stuck a needle in his chest.

Take me home.

She didn't move away when he approached her, when his hand sank into her soft hair at the back of her head, when his forehead pressed against hers, his gaze fixed on her dark eyes.

She stroked his wrist and closed her eyelids as if she wanted to remember this moment – he did the same, concentrating on her scent, the pleasant cool breeze on his heated cheeks, the closeness that wasn't stolen or taken by force.

He stepped back and nodded, her hand stroking his arm as his thumb ran over the line of her jaw.

His little sister.

Only what he'd experienced when he'd tamed Vhagar could compare to the feeling of pride that filled his chest when he'd returned to King's Landing with not one dragon, but two.

He knew that the sight of them, together, gliding through the skies had spread throughout the keep even before they reached it on horseback from Vhagar's lair.

As soon as they crossed the fortress walls, one of the guards announced to him that the King had called a meeting of the Small Council, at which he and their cousin were to appear to report on how their mission had performed.

He stepped into the chamber confidently, upright, with his chin held high, feeling the weight of what he had done, what he had achieved on his shoulders, knowing that he had perhaps determined the fate of the war while his brother sat idly in the Red Keep.

He sat down in his chair and stretched comfortably in his seat, placing one of his hands on the table top, looking the King straight in the eye.

Aegon smiled and nodded.

"I have heard of your success, brother. Bravo. Our cousin has returned victoriously on the back of a dragon." He said, and he smirked, feeling satisfaction rather than blood flow through his veins.

"Indeed. Sheepstealer is the size of Meleys. He's still untamed and unfamiliar with warfare, but it's a matter of practice." He replied calmly, glancing at his mother out of the corner of his eye, hoping to see pride and warmth in her gaze, just what he needed.

She, however, looked at him with fear, her lips slightly parted, her eyebrows arched in worry.

He felt a tightening in his throat, his hand clenched into a fist.

Why?

Why didn't he deserve at least one gentle look from her?

"We will hold a feast in your honour, brother. And, of course, our courage-filled cousin." The King said, and he pressed his lips together, thinking that his brother was a complete imbecile.

"You will organise a feast when our subjects are starving?" He hissed with anger and frustration, not understanding how he could come up with such ideas and spout them with such ease, without thinking, without analysing the situation, whether it was appropriate.

Aegon grunted loudly, clearly displeased with his harsh response.

"It will be a small feast. You will have another reason to celebrate. Your betrothed, Lady Floris Baratheon, concerned that her beloved prince has set out on a solitary expedition with an unmarried woman has written a letter to our mother demanding an explanation. I thought it best if you, in your own person, explained your reasons to her. She is heading for King's Landing."

He stared at him dully feeling that he had suddenly gone deaf, his heart in his throat.

She is heading for King's Landing.

"NO, VHAGAR! NO!" he heard himself shout, the figure of his nephew and his dragon disappearing into Vhagar's maw with Luke's loud, childish cry.

He could only watch as the remains of their bodies fell from the sky.

"Fear not, brother." His brother continued, snapping him out of his reverie. "You have done your part – now the Crown will take care of our cousin and her dragon, and you will devote yourself to softening the heart of your beloved."

What?

"She's not ready yet." He muttered, feeling his heart begin to pound like mad in his chest.

He wanted to take her away from him.

"Did you fuck her?"

He froze, as did the rest of those present at the table, their mother shaking her head, horrified and heartbroken.

"Aegon."

"They spent three nights alone in the cold. I need to know if anything happened to my cousin during that time that she might be afraid to speak of of her own accord. We all know what my brother is capable of when he acts in a rage." He said lightly, throwing him a bored, cold look that made him feel like vomiting.

"I didn't touch her." He hissed, leaning over the table.

"There are rumours among Lord Lannister's servants that contradict your words." He said in a raised voice, making his eye open wide in horror.

"What rumours?" He scoffed through clenched teeth.

Fucking fool.

I'll personally cut out his tongue, he thought.

"I will not quote them out of respect for my cousin and you, my brother." He said, and he burst into a low, cold laugh, feeling his whole body quiver.

"So they are mere slanders. Gossip. You judge me by your measure." He hummed in a voice drenched with sweet poison, grinning broadly.

"The Maester can see who is right. Does he not, cousin?" Aegon asked her, and he glanced over his shoulder, seeing her eyes open wide in horror, her hands clasped in front of her, her shoulders raised slightly in a defensive posture.

Gods, what if she had lied to him?

If she was not a maiden?

"No, Aegon. I do not permit you or anyone in this room to humiliate her in such a manner." Queen Alicent protested.

"No." She spoke up suddenly, and all those gathered looked at her. "I have nothing to hide. The Maester can examine me."

He circled the chamber in fury, angry and bitter, glancing again and again towards the bed with the curtains covering each side, feeling both anger and remorse that she had to go through this.

It was her fault.

They were humiliating her because of him.

She had wanted it herself, fucking whore.

He himself had let her understand that he wanted to watch.

He wanted to watch, hoping it would end very differently.

That he would be the one to do this to her.

His brother, his mother and his lords were all looking at him, as if they had already prejudged the fact that he was guilty, that he had done this, that he was even worse than everyone had predicted.

He felt like crouching down, hiding his face in his hands and bursting out crying, mumbling that he hadn't done it.

He wanted to, but he didn't.

He shuddered as the Maester stepped out from behind the curtains, her sad, red face flashing before him for a moment, her gaze lowered in regret.

"She is a maiden, My King. I have no doubt." He said, and he swallowed hard and closed his eyes, feeling a wonderful relief full of satisfaction.

Praise be to the gods.

He left, not looking at the bewildered faces of his mother and brother, not wanting to hear their explanations or apologies, the false words that it meant nothing.

Only when the door of his quarters closed behind him, when he sat down alone in his chair did he lean forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hide his face in his hands and burst into tears.

His brother pretending to greet him like a hero, pretending to appreciate what he had done at the same time humiliated him, taking away his credit, his pride and her.

His little sister.

[theamberfist]

Hell's Second Greatest Dad | Vox + Reader + Alastor

Familial! Alastor is reader's dad, Vox is the dad that stepped up

Description: With your dad, the Radio Demon, having been missing for seven years, you've come to see Vox as father figure instead. But when Alastor shows back up one day, he's furious to find his old friend trying to take his child away from him.

(Notes: CW Alastor, angst) (gender neutral reader) (Reader is Alastor's kid from life) (Could be biological or adopted) (Teen Reader)

❀ This one will have a song! It's a rewrite of Hell's Greatest Dad, but with Alastor in Lucifer's place and Vox in Alastor's place (Alastor gets a taste of his own medicine) ❀

Words: 4,049

"Tomorrow's forecast calling for acid rain with tornadoes picking up around noon in the Doomsday Distract," The familiar voice of hell's iconic tech demon explained, "And now for our Reader's Segment!" He smiled, placing the papers he'd been reading off of on the table in front of him and looking back up at the camera. 

Once he announced your name, the TV screen promptly changed to show you curled up on a plush couch with a fuzzy blanket and a book on your lap. "Take it away, kid." Vox's voice said through the earpiece you always wore while on-air in case he needed to communicate with you. 

"Thanks, sir." You smiled at the camera before turning your gaze down to the book in your lap, "Tonight we'll be reading something a little slower paced. It's fun, cozy, and perfect for a night like this, so let's begin." With that, you announced the title of your current favorite book and then flipped it open, reading aloud. 

The set around you was decorated to resemble a cozy living room; with a crackling fireplace behind your couch, a fake window to your left that was supposed to make it seem as if it overlooked a snowy field, and the softest carpet you'd ever walked on. The log walls were decorated with photos of cute animals since you had no family photos to adorn them, and both the couch, blanket, and carpet were soothing shades of light pink and purple that greatly contrasted the harsh the blues and red of your boss while still remaining within the same domain. 

You read in your most soothing tone, which many viewers liked to claim had the ability to lull them to sleep almost instantly, even if you had no such power that you knew of. Though, you supposed anything calming and cozy like this would have been a great relief in a place like hell, which had been your goal from the beginning. 

Vox was hesitant about your segment when you first pitched it, considering it was so different from the rest of the shows he ran, but eventually he gave it a chance, and it had only ever paid off since. As far as sinners went, you were adorable, and it wasn't just because you were young compared to most of the adults in hell. That, coupled with the cozy vibe of your set and the books you read, was enough to keep viewers coming back, meaning there were more people to see Vox's commercials and, therefore, become his customers. 

Not to mention the fact that it made him look good in the public eye. A teenage sinner who liked to read their little books for the public, and whose soul he didn't even bother to own? He looked more kindhearted than half of hell's overlords combined, no matter his intentions. 

The only person that didn't approve of your reading segment currently stood on a sidewalk somewhere in Pentagram City, watching through the window of a shop. Despite his apparent smile, his eyes were narrowed in disapproval at the screen.

To those who didn't know him, he would have simply looked like a regular sinner; interested in listening to you read the story you seemed to excited about. Had they been paying attention, they might have noticed the way his hands tightened around the microphone he held or how his red deer-like ears tugged back slightly. 

And as for those that did have the sense to recognize him, they wouldn't have even had the time to notice those details, because they would have already turned and walked the other way upon seeing the Radio Demon back after his seven year absence. 

About an hour later, you finished your segment, feeling a little sleepy yourself from the calming sounds of the fire and a good book. Even your cameraman seemed to barely be able to keep his eyes open at this point.

"I think we'll stop there for tonight," you said with a yawn, gently placing your Vox Tech bookmark between the pages and closing your book, "Tune in tomorrow, where we'll continue the story from where we left off." You were talking even more quietly than you had at the beginning, not wanting to disturb any of the viewers at home that may have fallen asleep. Though, it was a futile effort, considering a blaring commercial would likely run the second you were off-air again. "This has been the Reader's Segment; thank you and goodnight!" 

With that, your cameraman signaled that you were now off-air and you yawned again, wrapping the fuzzy purple blanket around yourself despite the warmth of the nearby ambient fire. 

A moment later, the door to your recording set opened and in stepped Vox himself with a familiar frown on his face. He looked around, though, and the second his eyes landed on you, the expression was replaced by a  picturesque smile. "There they are!" He exclaimed happily, walking over to you as you blinked sleepily at him. 

"Hi." You smiled through your hazy tiredness, making the tech demon soften just a bit. 

"Well done, kid." He said, ruffling your hair, "As always." Vox gently placed a hand on your back, leading you towards the studio door and leaving the rest of his workers to clean the set up behind you. "I have to say, I never expected a 'cute' segment like yours to do so well," he went on, ever the businessman, as you half-listened. "Turns out comfort was exactly what pathetic sinners wanted all along!" He glanced your way, his smile becoming more genuine now, before adding, "I'm proud of you, kid." That got your full attention now. 

You'd only heard the words a few times in your whole life, despite the huge positive effect they always had on you. Even the man that had raised you; the one that should have been the most proud in the end, had never actually told you so. Vox may not have been related to you by blood, or even legally, but hearing that phrase from him still made you grin.

"Thanks." You replied, unsure of how to convey how much his pride meant to you. Luckily, it seemed you didn't need to, because he just nodded and then brought you over to the nearby elevator. 

"It's the truth, kid," he replied, pressing the button that would take you up to his designated floor. Each of the V's had one, with Vox's being the highest, that was technically supposed to be solely their living space. However, after you began working for him, Vox ended up converting one of the rooms on his floor to make it yours. Now, your bedroom was the first door on the right after entering Vox's floor. 

"Though, it looked to me like that bookshelf of yours is starting to get a little empty..." He was referring to the shelf found on your set. It housed each of the books you planned on reading next in no particular order. This way, when you finished one for the show, you could immediately pick a new pre-approved one from the back shelf. The one you were done with would then be moved up to your room for you to keep, which was beginning to look more like a library with how many titles there were inside. 

"Did it?" You asked, feeling a little embarrassed, "I can grab a few more to add to it tomorrow." Vox shook his head, though, as the elevator finally reached your shared floor. 

"No need," he replied, "How about we buy some more tomorrow; call it a shopping day?" With how many unread books you already had making a mess in your room, there was really no need to buy any more. But after the first year of having you around, he realized making you happy tended to lift some of the stress and burden he felt off his shoulders, so he did so whenever possible. 

"Really?!" You asked, stars practically shining in your eyes as you stepped out of the elevator. Vox nodded, a warm smile on his face. 

"Of course; can't have my best segment lacking stories, now can I?" You grinned, hugging him without even thinking. At some point during your time working for him, it had become a natural gesture.

Vox rested a hand on your head with a grin, patting your hair. He'd never expected to get so attached to a kid, much less you, of all people, and yet here he was, enjoying the hug as if he were your close family member. 

Once the excitement of the news seemed to die down for you, that fuzzy, tired feeling from before came back. "Thanks, dad..." You mumbled into the tech demon's coat. His eyes widened for just a moment before a smile reappeared on his face. You probably hadn't even realized what you'd just said, and yet, it felt so right for him to hear it. 

"No problem, kid." He replied. Finally, he pulled away, patting your shoulder. "Now, you'd better get to bed if you're going to have enough energy for book shopping tomorrow." You grinned again, wrapping your soft blanket a little tighter around your body. 

"Right." You said, gently rubbing your now-very-tired eyes. "Goodnight!" You called as you turned and opened the door to your bedroom. 

"Goodnight." Vox replied softly before you closed the door behind you and disappeared. He could hear a muffled 'flop' sound somewhere inside, realizing you'd likely collapsed onto your bed immediately after entering. 

He chuckled softly before turning to head to his own room. Vox tended to stay up much later than you most nights; handling various paperwork and business. Today was no exception, but as he made his way to his office, which was attached to the bedroom, he spared a glance at the framed photo that sat propped on his bedside table. In it, you were depicted, holding up the camera to take a selfie. Vox was there too, an arm around your shoulders as he posed for the camera. Both of you looked so happy; smiling brightly as if you had not a care in the world.

It was his favorite photo; thus why it always remained on his nightstand. He turned away now, heading for his office with a renewed determination to get things done. After falling out with his closest friend seven years ago, the tech demon had assumed nothing else would ever be able to bring him joy again.

And he had been right, until you came along. 

..........

You were up bright and early the next day; too early for Vox's standards. He'd barely gotten any sleep, as per usual, but had smelled the breakfast you were making in the kitchen once he came out of his extra office. 

As soon as he entered, you'd smiled and sat him down at the table, handing him a plate of your personal favorite breakfast food. Of course that had been what you chose to wake up and make this early in the morning.

Regardless, the tech demon humored you, knowing you were just excited to get to go book shopping later that day. 

Once you'd both eaten, you hurriedly shoved him into his room, insisting he get dressed and ready for the day while you did the same. Apparently, you wanted to be at the bookstore the second it opened, but who was Vox to deny you, when it seemed to make you so happy?

Once you both were ready, the two of you took the elevator down to the V Tower lobby, with Vox ignoring several calls from his assistant along the way. He could wait until later, the tech demon decided. Instead, he listened to you go on and on about the books you planned to get and how excited you were. It seemed you had a fully prepared list, and Vox was ready to get every single one on it if it brought you joy. Finally, you reached the ground floor and the elevator dinged as the doors opened.

And almost immediately, you were met with the sounds of shouting and windows breaking. Clearly, there was already a commotion, even though it was even ten in the morning yet. Sighing, Vox stepped out first, followed promptly by you, who would never miss out on a scoop if you could help it; especially if it was happening in your own 'basement.'

What you saw was even more surprising than expected. The employees that usually worked on this floor were running around like chickens with their heads cut off; many of them screaming in fear. The secretary that usually worked the front desk was dangling in the air; held by an eerie black tentacle that you recognized all too well. Following it with your gaze, you could see that it was attached to none other than a red deer-like demon, whose body had morphed so that he was almost too tall to fit in the room.

A green 'X' mark sat on his forehead, further confirming that he was currently in his demonic form as he held the secretary up to his eye level.

"Where are they?!" He demanded, his radio static voice somehow even more haunting than usual. 

"I'm not authorized to tell you that!" The secretary screeched, covering his eyes as the tentacle's grip tightened around him and began bringing him towards the demon's open mouth.

Vox's assistant stood off to the side, frantically typing something on his phone amidst the panic. So, that was why he'd been calling so much this morning.

With a sigh, the tech demon activated his mind control powers, taking a step forward into the chaos. "Stop!" He shouted, his voice distorted. Suddenly, everything came to a stop, except the giant demon still holding his secretary, who slowly turned his head in your direction.

Still smiling, his eyes narrowed for a moment before he suddenly noticed you standing there, instantly reverting back to his normal form as if nothing had happened. The black tentacles that had been holding the secretary disappeared, causing them to fall to the floor with a thud. Meanwhile, the Radio Demon adjusted his coat jacket and stepped forward.

"Finally," he called, holding his microphone-cane behind him, "The man in charge, so to speak." Both you and Vox tensed, and you looked to the tech demon, unsure what to do. 

When neither of you said anything, Alastor spoke again. "And it seems you've found my little one!" He exclaimed with an even wider smile, "Good, then I'll have no need to search this entire building for them." Vox's eyes narrowed at the idea, and he was about to take a step to the side, so as to block you, when you finally spoke.

"Papa...?" Your voice was quiet; hurt. The tech demon hated it but you took a step forward, nonetheless. This was, as much as he hated to admit it, technically your father; the man you hadn't seen or even heard from once in the last seven years. That would have shocked anyone. 

"There you are, my dear!" Alastor said, opening his arms to you as if expecting a hug. "Come along, now. We have quite a bit to catch up on!" You didn't move. 

Vox took a step forward, sensing your uncertainty. "You've been missing for seven years," he replied, "They don't have to go with you." Alastor's eyes narrowed. 

"They're my child," he said, "So I'd suggest you get out of the way before things get ugly, old pal." You bit your lip. As much as you'd longed to see your father again all this time, now that you were faced with that reality, you weren't so sure. You'd only just come to accept the fact that he would never be returning for you, and now here he was, acting as if nothing had even happened. 

You used to be close with him, but now it felt like he wasn't even the same person anymore. Vox, of all people, had had to take you in after your dad left without warning, and since then, he'd become the only father figure you had in your life. 

Alastor glanced between the two of you with what would have been a scowl, if not for the permanent smile on his face. Everyone else had all but cleared the room now; leaving only the three of you there in your standoff. 

You were frozen; unsure what to do, and you knew Alastor could see it. It was like having to choose between your two parents in a divorce, except in this situation, it was the once-loving-father that had abandoned you and the man that had stepped up ever since. 

Unfortunately, Alastor didn't seem to read the situation the same way you did, because with his flare for the dramatics, he went on.

"Darling," he sighed before bringing out his mic and beginning a song. Now you knew there was no going back. "Looks like you could use some help," he began, "from hell's Radio Demon himself!" 

Alastor swung his cane, summoning two familiar sinners to the room to back him up now. "Never trust the one who's acting so heartfelt!" He pointed in Vox's direction, and Nifty immediately scurried over, jumping on Vox's shoulder. 

"Traitor!" She exclaimed adamantly before the tech demon ripped her off of him. Husk, however, was less enthusiastic. 

"Heartless," he said, ignoring how Vox glared and began to stalk towards him, only for Nifty to jump and latch onto his back now. 

"A total snake!" She exclaimed and he tried to shake her off again. Meanwhile, the two of them provided enough distraction now for Alastor to gently grab you by the arm and pull you away. 

"Oh, with enough motivation, dear," he went on, "He'll betray you, standing right here!"  Before he could get you out of the lobby door, though, Vox had pressed a button to activate the security measures, locking it from the outside. "Usually, you'd learn it on your own, I fear," he went on, "But for you I'd do anything!"

Nifty ran over to the two of you wearing one of your hats she'd gotten off a nearby coat rack now, hugging one of Alastor's legs as if she were pretending to be you. Or at least, a happier version of you. "Thanks, dad!" 

Alastor turned, pointing to Vox, "Who needs a knock-off now that I have returned?" Nifty nodded eagerly, jumping to rest on your father's head. 

"Whoa!" She sang, having way too much fun with this. 

"Come back to radio; have all you could want!" Alastor went on, trying his best to win your favor once more. "I've all the fatherly affection you've earned!" He spun you around once before gently gripping your shoulders and pointing up as if he were showing you something in the sky. "Clothing, safety, souls of the hasty, this we would flaunt!"

Finally, Vox seemed to have had enough because he appeared between the two of you like a bolt of lightning, gently pushing you away from Alastor and towards the elevator. "Who's been here since he was gone?" He reminded you, "Even if you weren't my spawn? Who gave you the segment that makes them yawn?" He pointed to the crowd of sinners outside, who'd gathered by the windows to watch what was going on. Then he smiled and straightened his bowtie. 

"It's your very own producer!" He sang.

"That's true..." You admitted as he pressed the button for the elevator now, already using his demon powers to call the security staff to the lobby to handle Alastor. Any other day, Vox would have done so himself, but having you right there made the situation much more difficult. 

"I support you, day to day!" The tech demon went on, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, "Your books, show; whatever you can name!" The elevator doors opened, and Vox pushed you inside before you could even think of protesting. Once Alastor was out of sight again, he brought up a photo of the bookstore you'd planned to visit.

"Remember I'm taking you shopping today?" He asked just as a video chat with the bookstore's owner appeared.

"Buy our books?" She asked in the same singing-tone everyone seemed to have adopted now, "Thank you sir!" 

The elevator doors dinged now as you reached the third floor, where Vox's security team was stationed. However, the second they opened, all that could be seen was Alastor, along with an empty office and some black tentacles still disappearing from wherever they'd came. 

"I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond," Vox went on as he hurriedly pressed the 'close door' button in the elevator. They began to do so, only for another of Alastor's black tentacles to stop them just in time, ripping the doors open. "You're like the child that I wish that I had!" If Vox could sweat, he surely would have been doing so by now as Alastor's eyes narrowed again. This was the closest you'd ever seen him to not smiling. 

"Excuse me?" The Radio Demon spoke, his pupils already taking the shape of dials. Finally, Vox stood straighter, turning back to you and patting your head. 

"I care for you just like a child spawned!" He sang, knowing it was getting under Alastor's skin. "It's a little funny," he glanced back, a smirk on his features. Your father was seething. "You could almost call me 'dad'!" The second those words left Vox's mouth, Alastor moved to attack him, only for you both to disappear in crackles of electricity. 

The tech demon almost never transported others with him this way, which meant he was taking Alastor's presence in the V's tower seriously. You appeared on your shared floor, which also happened to have a panic room. It had been designed for waiting out exterminations but, considering the situation, Vox figured it would work just fine to keep you from your father now. 

He began pulling you towards it, only for Alastor to appear out of the shadows in front of him. 

"They say when you're looking for assistance," Vox sang, trying to move around him, only to be blocked by a black tentacle, "It's smart to pick the path of least resistance!" He was getting very tired of playing nice with the Radio Demon, especially when the tentacle previously blocking him grabbed onto his arm and pulled him away from you.  

"Others say that in your needy hour," Alastor said, beginning to pull you away from the tech demon, "The one that first raised you is simply never sour!" He spun you around to emphasize the proclamation, then stopped and placed both hands on your shoulders. "Who just happens to have known you in life!" He added a little more intensely.

A second later, though, you were pulled out of your father's grip by Vox, who began rushing you towards the panic room. "Sadly, there are times a child's needs are met with strife!" He exclaimed, pushing you through the door as gently but quickly as possible, "They say the family you choose is better." 

"Pathetic excuses!" Alastor chimed in, grabbing onto your arm just as gently-but-urgently as he attempted to pull you back. 

"Can you butt out of my song?" Vox snapped, pulling harder on your arm. You were halfway through the door now, awkwardly standing there and not knowing what else to do.

"Your song?" Alastor replied with a scoff, "I started it!"

"I'm singing it; I'll finish it!" Vox shouted back, pulling back on your other arm. The pressure was starting to hurt you now but you couldn't seem to get a word in about it as they fought one another. At this rate, you'd be torn in half before they could come to a custody agreement. 

"You're always such a piece of-" Before Alastor could finish his sentence, you finally cut in, pulling your arms out of both their grasps.

"That's it!" You screamed, finally catching their attention despite the entire song having been about you. "I can't do this right now!" You backed away form them both, feeling more than a little hurt and confused. Vox went to speak up but you weren't having it; raising a hand to stop him as you turned and stomped off to your room. "I need time!" And with that, you slammed the door behind you. 

[cho-aaacho]

I love you, truly. There's no doubt in my mind.

Masterlist

Characters : Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi, and Choso.

Gojo Satoru (Childhood Friend)

"Ah, isn't it cute?" 

"Yeah."

You simply nodded as Gojo Satoru, your childhood friend, invited you on an aquarium date. It had been a while since you had spent time with him, cherishing these small moments together.

You couldn't recall exactly how long you had known Satoru. As far back as you could remember, you had been his best friend a long time ago, sharing the same blue sky, laughing, lovingly touching each other's hands, playfully giggling, and embracing both his joys, sadness, and happiness.

Some describe him as nonchalant, others as arrogant and annoying, yet to you, he is just like a petite star in the veil of the night sky. So bright yet teasingly distant, just beyond your grasp.

You're acutely aware that being his priority or even dancing in his thoughts is beyond reach. It's clear to you that his actions toward you are merely as friends. 

Since high school, your heart has been sealed within him, keeping it concealed within the recesses of your mind.

...why does God plant the seeds of love in your heart only for them to remain unwatered and untouched by Gojo Satoru?

He chuckled upon noticing your prolonged gaze, a soft smile forming on his lips, causing warmth to spread to your cheeks.

"Do you remember when we were kids and you told me you wanted to be a teacher? Well, now I've stolen that dream, and I'm the one who became a teacher," he remarked. "And remember when you said you wanted to become a skilled baker? Well, I stole that dream too!"

You rolled your eyes, feeling a tingle of irritation. "Yeah, you've stolen every dream I have, and I ended up as a pathetic office worker. But... what exactly are you trying to say?"

His attention shifted to the aquarium, snapping a few photos before continuing. "Hmm... what if I were to say I stole your start? How does that sound?"

"What do you mean, Satoru-kun?"

"Yuuji... he mentioned something about this before we set off on our little date. He mentioned that you had planned on something. I don't think he meant to spill the tea because it was supposed to be a secret. But you know how bad Yuuji is at keeping secrets, so, well, he let it slip."

He paused, then added, "The thing you want to say this day is... Satoru-kun, as unbelievable as it may sound, I'm absolutely head over heels for you. I love you."

He giggled. "And since I stole your start, it means, like, you know what I mean, right?" 

Now your mind is full of cherry blossoms...

A smile curled on his lips. As he gets closer, your shoulder touches his, making your heart beat so fast. How could he know this so fast? Did he know that you loved him for a very long time?

He shook his head and removed his sunglasses, perching them atop his silver hair. He stared at you with a soft smile. "I love you. Will you be mine?"

Geto Suguru (Boss/Employee Relationship)

"I wish I could see you not only today but every day. Please stay by my side," Geto expressed lovingly.

The memory of Geto's heartwarming words lingered in your mind. It's so endearing, isn't it? How could he leave you with this feeling? Did he even try to find out or ask you after this? 

You still remember that time. It was a nice morning during spring, and you both indulged in green tea and sakuramochi on the terrace. Talking about sakura and kakigori. You found yourself just nodding and smiling, unable to find the words to respond.

Perhaps... you're too shy to face him, or it was the shock of his unexpected confession, considering your interaction with him is always in a formal atmosphere.

His words were consistently warm, polite, and kind towards everyone, but sometimes they left you confused about whether they were sincere or merely of his inherent kindness. 

But you knew too well; it's just a part of Geto's natural charm. Despite occasional rudeness towards non-jujutsu-shi, everyone adored him for his personality, a trait you've always loved in your deepest heart.

This time, Geto invited you to the planetarium. He expressed being in a good mood to take you out, releasing his desire to spend quality time together, and affirming that you're the only one who fits with him on this date.

Despite the comments from everyone that the date was so childish and corny, you eagerly accepted the invitation. You loved this idea.

He said he has always loved stars and planets since he was a little kid, and this kind of date would refresh his sweet childhood memory. 

That morning, when he came out of his room, it was the first time you saw Geto dressed casually instead of in his priestly attire. You couldn't help but notice how effortlessly appealing he looked, hinting at his charm, his pretty face, and his warm eyes. Everything about him is indeed beautiful.

"Shall we?" he said, extending his hand. You felt the warmth and gentleness of his palm as you squeezed it, eliciting a chuckle from him.

His large palm brought a sense of protection and security as it touched your skin, making you happy. It was the first time you felt such intensity from touching Geto Suguru, sparking curiosity about whether he had done this with anyone else.

"Are you happy?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Of course, Geto-san. How could I say no to an invitation from someone like you? I'm grateful for your company."

He nodded and smiled, then paused. "So... would you mind if we did this again in the future? Perhaps... for something more romantic and intimate?"

You blushed. "Um..."

"Oh, sorry if I confused you. What I meant is," he leaned in closer, gently touching your hair, then traced your jawline with a smile. 

"I understand if you don't see it as romantic, but, well, I'd like to ask if you want to meet my friend next week. She's a talented designer and has crafted some beautiful wedding dresses."

"What do you mean?"

He chuckled. "I was thinking of having you try on her wedding dress. I know she has one that would look stunning on you. I envision you wearing it, sitting by my side, like a good couple, because... I want to marry you."

Nanami Kento (Secret Admirer)

"Oh, flowers?" 

Haibara teased, peeking over from his desk with a mischievous grin. It's been a month now since you started receiving these surprises. Adorned at your desk whenever you come to the office in the morning.

At first, it was just a card, but then the next week came flowers, followed by your favorite cake, coffee, and even a keychain featuring your beloved mascot. Yet, each gift arrives without a sender's name, leaving you intrigued.

You attempt to inquire with your coworkers, hoping to find alternatives and answers from them. Unfortunately, they seem unaware of the sender's identity, giving a hint that they can't help you with this. 

"Aren't you happy that you have a secret admirer? I can see it in your eyes," Nanami says, his gaze fixed on the computer screen as his fingers dance across the keyboard.

"I'm just wondering why they're hiding all these gifts and remaining anonymous. I'm not a teenager anymore; this kind of thing only makes me anxious, you know."

He pauses briefly, shifting his attention from the computer to you, who is engrossed in checking documents at your desk. 

"I wouldn't consider the sender creepy or anything, because whoever it is seems to have a deep understanding of me. Like, when I mentioned to Haibara-kun that I had a migraine, the next day I received migraine medicine."

Paused, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Or when I mentioned I wanted to eat chocolate truffles, the next day they appeared on my desk. None of this feels coincidental, I must admit."

You stroke your chin thoughtfully. "I suppose... I appreciate it when someone shows they care about me, but it'd mean even more if I knew who they were. You see, I've always been alone since I was a child, so when someone shows me their kindness, I'll love them sincerely."

"So, what are you going to do with this?" Nanami's voice was tinged with anxiety.

"Maybe I'll bake a cake or something for them as my gratitude. My grandma gave me a recipe for baking a cake, and she called it Cake For Someone Special." 

You force a smile and gaze at him. "But, I'll probably say goodbye to them if I have met them, and... thank you?

Nanami's voice changed, sounding anxious. "Eh... why?"

You chuckled. "The manager transferred me to another office. It's a new office for what I know, and they needed a new staff."

After hearing this, a burning sensation stirred within Nanami. He attempted to quell it by conjuring thoughts in his mind. But a question flooded his thoughts: How could this happen to me? Should I reveal the truth? That I—

"Nanami-san..." You began taking on a mysterious tone. "You know... everyone has unique handwriting. Do you believe that each person's handwriting is unique?"

He frowned but remained silent.

"I've been observing all my coworkers and noticed that each of them has a different handwriting. Well, some share similarities, but there are still noticeable differences."

You glanced at him. "And your handwriting, Nanami-san, is truly remarkable. It seems to reflect your personality—kind, caring, and observant."

You continued, "Some believe that handwriting can reveal a person's personality. I don't claim to be an expert, but I've noticed similarities between your handwriting and our little anonymous. So, are you—"

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his words trailing into the air.

"Yes, I know it sounds ridiculous and weird. I was the one who sent you gifts, cards, and everything. I know I may sound creepy or cheesy, but... I just want to share my feelings with you. Sorry if I'm not gentle enough with all of this, but please... don't leave me. I'll send the gifts once again, with my name on them, as long as you remain by my side."

It felt a bit odd hearing Nanami speak those words in front of you at the office. Yet, deep down, there was a sense of joy upon hearing them. Something inside you is blooming like a flower. Beautiful.

You chuckled softly and whispered, "Who said I'm going to leave you? I simply mentioned that our manager might transfer me, but I'm not necessarily agreeing with it. So how about we grab lunch after this? And we can talk about this later, right, Nanami-san?"

Oh... Lord, how smoothly Haibara's plan was working on Nanami. It was quite satisfying... 

"And, again, Nanami-san. I'll never leave you." 

Fushiguro Megumi (cuteness)

He adores flowers. Everything about them always makes his heart float like a delicate feather. He can't recall exactly when his love for flowers began, but it's likely influenced by his sister.

As one of the florists in town, Megumi loves to visit you to admire the flowers and buy some for his sister.

It's quite uncommon to find a man with such a sweet appreciation for flowers. He explained that it stemmed from his sister's passion, and he loves cherishing and feeling happiness from them.

For you, it's delightful to connect with someone who shares similar interests, and you hold this bond with Megumi.

Megumi has also taken the time to learn Hanakotoba, and he happily shares his knowledge with anyone, including you.

Whenever he talks about flowers, you can see the kindness in his eyes and the warmth of his compassionate smile, sometimes leaving you feeling a bit bashful.

One day, when he visits you, there's an air of gloom and sadness surrounding him. 

Though you're unsure of what has transpired, you detect a hint of sorrow in his demeanor. 

He may be reluctant to divulge the details, or perhaps he's attempting to shield his sadness, but it's clear that he needs someone to confide in or share his sorrow.

"Are you alright? You seem rather down," you remark, your gaze drifting to the orchids nearby.

"I... I'm not sure if I am. It's just... you know, a little problem."

You couldn't help but chuckle at the fleeting glimpse of upset in his eyes. Still wondering how to cheer him up? Perhaps you could try a bouquet for free or a comforting cup of hot chocolate for your dear friend.

It's so rare to see him this gloomy; usually, he's always seen with a warm smile around you, signaling his comfort in your presence. 

But this time... feels different.

"I can help you, Megumi-kun."

He is gazing at you, falling into stillness while brushing back his hair. "I want to give my friend a gift, but I don't know her favorite."

Oh... her?

So... it's because of a woman? What kind of woman is changing Megumi's mood all of a sudden?

There's nothing wrong with that, but why does it feel uneasy to you?

You halt your thoughts and shake your head, knowing it's best not to jump to conclusions. 

You tease him and giggle to lighten the mood. "Oh, who is she? Your new girlfriend?"

A hint of blush renders his cheeks, and despite Megumi trying to hide his shyness, you can still see it. Oh... so cute. Cute.

"N-no, it's not quite like that. She's a good friend, someone truly special. She's always there for me, supporting me, showing me love, and I want to express my gratitude somehow."

Deep down... you're aware that his feelings for this woman go beyond friendship. It's evident in Megumi's eyes and the way he proudly talks about her. 

"I see..."

Well, he may be in love.

"How about you give her gerberas?"

He frowned. "Why?"

"Well, red gerberas represent unconscious love or being fully immersed in love. It looks like your feelings for her are more than just friendship. But I'm sorry, Megumi-kun. I don't have gerberas."

He smiled softly and nodded. You felt content seeing Megumi's mood shift to warmth, gentleness, and softness, especially when you noticed the sparkle in his eyes when you mentioned gerberas.

"Why do I forget about that one? Thank you for reminding me."

The last thing you remember is that Megumi ran through the entrance, leaving you standing alone in the shop. A sigh escaped from your lips, and a strange emptiness enveloped you, wrapping you alone in the corner.

As you returned home from work, the moments of the day almost faded from your mind until you spotted Megumi standing in front of your apartment. 

You have no idea how long he's been there. But it was a beautiful afternoon when the sun went down and was replaced by hues of twilight. All you can see is him grabbing something that looks like a bouquet from afar, but you aren't sure.

"Megumi-kun, what are you doing here?"

Now, as you gazed at him, he stood there, tenderly holding a bouquet in his hand.

"There's something I need to discuss about our relationship, something I need to confirm with you. It might seem trivial, but... I feel it's important to say," he began, his smile warm and genuine.

As he handed you the bouquet, you noticed a bouquet of gerberas nestled within, elegantly wrapped alongside a beautiful envelope. It's simply beautiful, just like him, Fushiguro Megumi. It was perhaps the most exquisite bouquet you'd ever laid eyes on.

Caught between reality and a daydream, you found yourself stuck by Megumi's smile. How could all of this be happening to you? Was it truly meant for you—the flower, the letter, his confession, everything?

"You're simply beautiful, and I love you," he whispered softly. "I want you to be with me."

Choso (First Kiss)

"The rain doesn't seem to be letting up. How are we going to get home?"

"I'm not sure, but stuck in the classroom isn't a good idea. I should hurry home, or my brothers will worry about me."

"Heh, you're such a good big brother."

Rain falling to the ground creates a calming atmosphere. The aroma of moist soil is in your nose. It always leaves a pleasant, romantic impression.

A peculiar feeling began to invade your mind, pleading for assistance in escaping these situations. It was dark and cold, and you hate them. All you could sense were raindrops, Choso's humming, and the ticking of the clock. It leaves a blue atmosphere for you, to be honest.

His eyes gazed at you with a smile on his lips. "Yeah, maybe we could use an umbrella, but I think you'd hate it if we used that ugly one."

You joking. "An umbrella? Well, maybe it would be nice if we used it. You know, it sounds... romantic."

A warm feeling began to invade your system as you said that. You weren't sure if he could notice or sense the tease, but your rosy cheeks gave it away.

"Oh, you want to try it?"

A smile waltzed across Choso's lips. He studied your face before nodding. His gaze, as warm as the sun, locked onto yours, desperately vying for your attention.

He sidled closer. "You know, just trying... it won't hurt you."

He shared his laughter with you, a symphony of joy that danced through the air. 

He reached for his umbrella in his bag. "I'm not lying," he said. "I always brought an umbrella from home; so shall we?"

Your gaze swept over him, scanning what the umbrella looked like. Well, it doesn't seem bad, like he said earlier, despite how tiny it was. It could fit both of you. Choso is a tall man, but you're sure that the umbrella will fit both of you. And you think it will be good if you're close to him.

"What do you think?" His words hung in the air like a playful challenge. "Would you like to try it?"

You nodded in agreement and, without thinking. Now that your attention is drawn to the outside, the raindrop is still falling but not as heavy as before.

You can't seem to remember everything clearly; it all happened so fast. From what you recall, you're both already outside with Choso under the same umbrella. The atmosphere is cold and freezing. It's been a long time since you've shared an umbrella with someone, let alone been this close.

You try to calm yourself by closing your eyes, but in reality, you are unable to move an inch of your very fingers. It's so weird, to be honest.

"Are you okay?" Choso's voice brought you back to reality. You gazed at him and noticed that your face and his were close, almost touching his nose.

...at this rate, he'll be...

"N-no, I'm okay..."

"Come closer," he whispered. "I don't want you to get wet by the rain, or you'll be sick." He continued. "You don't want me to be closer?"

"No, it's not, Choso-kun. I just..."

He leaned in, closing the gap between you and him. Making your face even blushier than before. "You know Nobara says when you're this close with someone, you should kiss them. Do you want to try it too? Well, this is my first time kissing someone; I just want to try."

"Oh... Choso—"

But before you could respond to him, his lips had already met yours, sealing you with a warm and gentle kiss, leaving you breathless, vulnerable, and willing to surrender.

For someone who claims it was his first time, his kiss was actually good—not rushed or forced, just a tender and soft kiss from someone you love dearly.

He whispered between the kisses. "Promise me you'll stay like this..."

[rey-jake-therapist]

What's the deal with Sauron and children ?

There seems to be something we don't know, about Sauron and children. Among Haladriels we often joke/hc that Sauron wants to have children with Galadriel and that's why it's a recurring theme. But in all seriousness, we may ask : what are the writers not telling us ?

It started in Numenor, where we saw Sauron smile giddily at the sight of little girls running.

I'm sure many still think : "he was putting on a show for Galadriel". Ok but Galadriel herself didn't smile when she watched them, she just looked at them with indifference. And it's not necessarily a human thing to smile at the sight of children, many humans don't care for them.

Then there's a scene where Sauron as Halbrand confronted Adar, who asked him if he had hurt someone he loved, adding, "A woman ? Perhaps, a child ?".

Galadriel may have noticed that Halbrand seemed particularly tense when he asked if it was a child, because she told Adar, "eat your tongue".

Tbf, it's likely that this scene was just a red herring. The audience still had to believe that Halbrand was a man, and that he had a good reason to want Adar dead. Adar firmly believed he had killed Sauron at this point, so there could be only one reason for Halbrand to be so angry at him, aka he took someone he loved away from him. What I mean is that Adar asking him this question made very much sense, at the moment.

But the reference to children came back in season 2, when Sauron had a vision of little girls running in the vision he had first created for Celebrimbor. It could also, again, mean nothing, because this vision was for Celebrimbor, a make believe to hide him the fact that Eregion was under attack. But someone, I don't know who, noticed something interesting when they put the gif of the Numenor girls on top of the gif of the mind palace girls.

Do you see it ? How the kids in the second seem to continue the Numenor kids' running ?

It may mean absolutely *nothing*. And yet I find interesting that the writers chose to associate Sauron with kids not just once, or even twice, but three times.

Could it mean that at some point, when he was in Numenor, Sauron seriously considered the idea of settling down there, of founding a family and liviving as a human being ? He was in a repentance phase and had, in his own words, "given up" any idea of fixing the damages he had done after Adar betrayed him and turned him into powerless goo, so I don't think it's too far-fetched to imagine that he could have genuinely wanted to settle down, to blend with the crowd.

Or could it be, as @apoloadonisandnarcissus suggested to me, that Sauron associates children with the concept of innocence, an innocence he himself lost when Morgoth corrupted him ?

Saurbrand told Galadriel, about Numenor, that it was "a paradise rife with opportunities". The vision of Eregion he showed Celebrimbor had everything of a paradise. Even after Celebrimbor got back to work and was no longer here to see the vision, Sauron remained for a few minutes in his illusion, contemplating it.

It didn't escape Haladriel shippers' attention that the girl was a sort of Galadriel lookalike, and that his lover, whose face remained unseen, may have expressed Sauron's own doubts regarding his capacity to perfect/heal Middle-Earth without Galadriel and her light.

That said, neither the idea of having a family, nor the association of children with innocence, can be related to what Adar did to him. Adar definitely didn't kill a child of his (and it would be dangerously lore-breaking to claim that Sauron ever had a kid, because Maiars are supposed to be forever bound to their physical form once they conceived), and he isn't the one who stole his innocence either. Adar is the one whose innocence was stolen by both Morgoth and Sauron, actually.

So now it's your turn : do you have any idea about this ? If yes, please share :)