#his sister is someone he killed himself to protect

[ashthewaterghoul]

’Cause It Still Makes My Blood Run Cold To Remember What I Did Before - A Banana!Verse One Shot

In the pits, Fire Ghouls were nothing if not warriors; their worth was found in defending and protecting what they held dear while fighting the threat head-on. The latter part may not be possible right now, but if Alpha could keep them all safe, shield them from the torment they’d all been subject to, he would take the looming darkness and become it. His flames were strong enough to stay burning in the dark fog he consumed, yet it just killed him a little more every time he did it. Taking him apart stitch-by-stitch and unravelling him from his very soul outwards. As time went on, he had to wonder when that last stitch would rip open, and he dread to think what the result would be. Or, Alpha has a lot of feelings after mating with Dew, and having to be oh-so-cruel to him to keep him safe from Sister's torment.

Words: 2.6k

Relationships: Alpha/Dew, mentioned Air/Earth and Terzo/Omega

Tags: Angst, feels, nightmares, self-hatred, self-worth issues, mating bond, Alpha needs therapy, suicide by drowning shown in a dream sequence, suicidal thoughts, Alpha is an asshole, but he gets better kinda, one shot, era ii Ghouls wear veils.

Inspired by @anotherbananasong 's amazing universe! I'm like 99% sure this can be read if you're not familiar but obviously I'm going to recommend her blog!!

Title from 'Missing Limbs' by Sleep Token

~~~

    Dew shot upright in a cold sweat that instantly evaporated away against his warm skin. His breathing was frantic, his heart beating from his chest and for the life of him couldn’t focus enough to feel the electricity thrumming along the bond that tied him to Alpha.

    Alpha himself was in his room deep down in the catacombs. It wasn’t the deepest as that belonged to Lake’s subterranean lair, but it was still deep. Alpha too, was deep but in his own mind. His own loathing for himself.

Read below the cut or on ao3

    Alpha did initially detest himself for ruining Dew’s life by mating with him - for desecrating something as precious as the little Fire Ghoul with the sheer and utter monstrosity that was his existence. Yet there was something so tempting and alluring about Dew’s flames dancing in his own soul that made him want to swallow his pride and just be a good mate, asshole-façade be damned.

    But that façade would have to stay for a little while. That Satan-forsaken summons to Sister’s office that would damn him and his mate to years of pain that burned deeper than any flame ever could.

    “If you even go near this mate-”

    “I’m not scared of you, you old hag.”

    “Oh, but you should be, Ghoul. He’s highly unstable right now. No one would question if he didn’t pull through.”

    “If you hurt him…”

    “Secondo and Terzo aren’t here to protect you anymore. Test me, if you’d like.”

    And while Alpha would usually see that and indeed test someone, something about the liveliness bouncing across the bond in his soul made him realise he could never let Sister hurt Dew again. The forced transformation and killing their Papas were more than enough…

    So instead, Alpha would hurt Dew. Bold displays of neglect and disinterest so there was no fuel to add to Sister’s bonfire of tyranny. He’d do everything he could to make sure Dew never fell for him, to push him away, to keep him safe.

    The long nights Alpha would spend sobbing for what he puts Dew through were only mildly comforted by the fact that he was keeping Dew safe. That’s what a good mate did, right? They kept the other safe. So, in a perverse way, Alpha was being a good mate. But then, for a second, he would acknowledge the bond that bound him to Dew and his entire being would be wracked with the desolation and misery that Alpha left the little one in. The biting words, the harsh treatment, the shunning and dismissal and cruelty that Alpha would inflict in what was his best effort to keep Dew safe.

    It worked, and he hated himself for it.

    He translated it onto the rest of his pack too. He’d rip into River for being a cry-baby, he’d contribute to Air’s status as a walking mattress, and poke at Earth for choosing such a used-up Ghoul for his mate. He’d jab at the suffocating void of grief Omega was left in following the brutal demise of Terzo, his favourite Papa and paramour, and Lake... Well, Lake wasn’t really around enough for Alpha to cause much damage which, deep down, he let himself be thankful for.

    In the pits, Fire Ghouls were nothing if not warriors; their worth was found in defending and protecting what they held dear while fighting the threat head-on. The latter part may not be possible right now, but if Alpha could keep them all safe, shield them from the torment they’d all been subject to, he would take the looming darkness and become it. His flames were strong enough to stay burning in the dark fog he consumed, yet it just killed him a little more every time he did it. Taking him apart stitch-by-stitch and unravelling him from his very soul outwards. As time went on, he had to wonder when that last stitch would rip open, and he dread to think what the result would be.

    When Earth beat him up as a “lesson” he just laid back and took it. He knew he deserved it. And he wanted it to be a lesson, he wanted to listen and be able to love Dew. But he couldn’t. Not without risking the little firefly he was trying so hard to protect. Ripping himself apart to keep Dew safe, that was all that mattered. And it certainly mattered more than any silly little feelings Alpha had.

    When news had reached the Ancients that Sister had died, Earth and Air cried in relief that maybe the cruelty the Clergy had subjected them to under her rule could finally end. Alpha took a while before he realised the same could be for him and Dew.

    From that point, he counted down the days until the little one had returned from tour. When he could feel the bond was less stretched with distance, and that Dew was home, he actually found himself smiling for the first time in… years, he realises.

    Out of a habit he knows shouldn’t need to exist anymore, he sneaks from the catacombs in the middle of the night, and up to Dew’s room. Dew had stood in his doorway, vape in hand and looking completely annoyed by Alpha’s mere presence.

    “Alpha, if you’re here to hatefuck, then I’m really not in the mo-”

    But Dew is cut off by the most gentle, yet somehow most passionate kiss Alpha had ever given him. More gentle than their night together before Dew’s last tour with Terzo, or even the night they mated.

    Alpha pulled back and both Fire Ghouls had tears in their eyes.

    It took all of about two seconds before Dew pulled Alpha down by his veil and kissed him again. And Alpha did his best to make up for lost time. He was so gentle and tender with Dew; hailing him like a deity and worshipping him like one too. Treating him so preciously and delicately and with every ounce of love and care his body could muster. Words were never his strong suit, only when they were laced with his Fire and venom, so he said everything with his body instead.

    The moment that Alpha silently opened up his side of the bond completely, for the first time ever in the years it had been there, and Dew could finally feel the outpouring of love and affection that Alpha had been holding for him this whole time, they both cried. The sheer relief on their souls from their bond not painfully weighing them down anymore made their hearts feel so full and their souls whole. Alpha’s eyes may have been misted over with tears, but he’d never forget the look on Dew’s face. He even took his veil off, and Dew cried even more. One smaller hand instantly went up into the larger Ghoul’s dark hair and he pulled him back down to kiss him, desperately holding onto him.

    Alpha’s only words were a repeat of what he hoped Dew had always known is true, “You are so loved.”

    And this time he dared to add, “And by no one more than me.”

    But it wasn’t all smooth sailing from that point. Alpha didn’t know how to be a good mate. He was a shit stain on the universe, and he deserved to be nowhere near Dew. Even the deepest pits of Hell were too kind for him. He found himself slipping into old habits of lashing out, and pushing Dew away, refusing to let such a bright spark drown himself out with Alpha’s atrocious presence.

    Often, Alpha contemplated walking down to Lake’s domain and asking him to take him to rest in the depths. He knows Lake would do it, and even if he didn’t, Alpha would throw himself down and let himself be taken by the current.

    He thought there would be a certain beautiful irony that he would die surrounded by his beloved’s true element, taken from him too soon and too violently. Dew felt his Water be eviscerated by flames, Alpha would feel his Fire suffocated by Water and leaving Dew’s to burn alone by himself. Maybe that would leave a nicer life for the little one.

    But as Dew fell asleep alone one night, that was exactly what he saw. He saw his mate as he was now; confused and scared and not knowing what to do in a whirlpool of distress and loathing - hating himself for how he’s treated his mate and pushing Dew away still. Dew saw him get up, and go down to see Lake.

    “I can’t.” Alpha said, “Take me, please. I can’t live knowing what I’ve done to him.”

    And Lake obliges. He stays completely unglamoured, fins and webbings out so he can have more power in the water. Alpha remains glamoured for the opposite reason. He wants to be weak, because he has been all along. He doesn’t deserve to be strong now, at the end when he wasn’t strong enough to stand up to Sister in the first place. Dew is the one that’s strong, not him. The little light there is down there fades as Alpha’s dragged deeper and deeper down, and his veil comes off and floats up to the surface. Alpha tries to reach for it, because it’s the same colour as Dew’s eyes. But Lake swims and pushes him down faster and faster and Alpha knows he doesn’t deserve that comfort either.

    As Alpha’s lungs burn for oxygen, his chest spasms for relief, all he can think off is the panic and confusion he feels from Dew as he races down to the catacombs, only for Lake to later present him with his mate’s lone veil. And Alpha dares to ask Dew to forgive him before his last ember dies out.

    As Dew woke, he felt as though it was real. That he’d just somehow witnessed his mate’s death through his unconscious. His mind was in such a state of panic that he couldn’t focus enough on the bond that told him Alpha was indeed still alive.

    Dew didn’t bother to put anything on his feet as he raced out of his room in only his boxers and one of Alpha’s t-shirts that was more like a dress on him. He needed to see Alpha. Whether it was him or his body or veil, he had to see him.

    He thinks his runs and sobs and shouts for his mate may have woken up Astra but he’d apologise to Air and Earth later. Alpha’s door was open and the Ghoul himself was part-way out before Dew’s heart could scream anymore.

    “Dew? What’s wrong?” Alpha asked, having felt Dew’s frenzy and sadness bleed down the bond.

    “D- don’t l- l- leave me!” Dew wheezed as he held onto Alpha for dear life, his sprint down to the catacombs combining with his panic leaving him entirely unable to breathe.

    “I’m never leaving you again, little one.” Alpha promised as he held Dew, lifting him up so they could lay in his nest.

    Dew couldn’t stop crying or get his breathing back under control and Alpha was at a loss. He remembered how he saw Earth snuggling into Air once, apparently it helps his anxiety. So, despite the size difference that would be comical in any other situation, Alpha wrapped his arms around Dew’s waist and laid on top of him, with his head on his abdomen and put his weight down so he acted as an assuring and grounding presence. It worked as Dew’s sobs quietened, and his breathing slowed to something more normal. Dew found himself fidgeting with Alpha’s hair and horns also, a mindless habit he didn’t even realise he was doing until he was back in his own body.

    As Dew calmed down and explained his nightmare, Alpha’s fiery blood managed to run cold.

    “It felt s- so real.” Dew whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek to join the rest, voice still shaking with adrenaline and emotions.

    Alpha swallowed thickly, “It wasn’t, I promise, firefly.”

    “Don’t l- let it be real, ever. Please, Alfie?” Dew asked him with big wet eyes.

    Alpha raised himself up from his living-weighted-blanket position and looked straight into Dew’s eyes, a large calloused palm resting on Dew’s cheek.

    “I won’t let it be real.” Alpha affirmed.

    “I have y- you now, and I don’t want t- to lose you, ever. Th- the bond, and having you, I- I never want to go without it again.” The little one said. And he was so painfully little as he curled up against Alpha’s chest, a pointed ear over his heartbeat and a hand over his pec to feel his warm body and steady breathing.

    When Dew’s adrenaline and post-breakdown-exhaustion caught up with him and took him back to sleep in Alpha’ arms, the larger Ghoul just hated himself more.

    For it being something he so often thought about, dare he say fantasised about, and now seeing how it just being a nightmare to Dew hurt him so much, he only despised himself more for thinking he could ever leave Dew in that much pain.

    Once he had promised that he would never make for a good mate, so he would never even try. Now, he doesn’t think he’d ever be able to forgive himself for all the hurt he caused.

    Dew is the lighthouse in the storm that is Alpha’s self-hatred. Originally, he wanted to hate Dew. For making him feel noticed, for choosing him, for luring him in like the Syren he used to be. Then he wanted to hate Dew for giving him life again, a reason to live, for being the tinder for the dying embers of his soul. Dew became the reason Alpha’s flames could burn so so bright, but then he had to repay it by stamping out Dew’s own.

    Dew had mentioned to Air he almost feels as though he’s Water again. Because he is just the most powerful tidal wave of love for his mate that he never lets up on, and he uses it to slowly corrode away the behemoth of a wall that Alpha’s put up.

    And Dew is so happy now. His flames have been burning brighter than ever as they happily danced alongside Alpha’s. Alpha doesn’t think he could ever bring himself to hurt Dew again, which he knows is a good thing. But Dew forgave him so easily, even without knowing the threat of Sister’s cruelty was the reason behind it all, and Alpha knows it would kill him if he ever betrayed Dew again. Yet now he’s seen how Dew reacts to even just a mirage of his deserving demise; how could he ever even think about putting Dew through the real thing?

    Alpha had desecrated his gift from Lucifer too many times, defiled his pure and beautiful soul with his horrid treatment. He wanted so badly to make up for it, yet he found himself completely unworthy. Despite the long and arduous process of healing they’d both go through, Alpha knows there is always going to be a very loud and obnoxious part of his mind that will always make him hate himself. And while Dew would be there to constantly adore and reassure Alpha - being the tsunami of love to drown anything else out - Alpha would often find himself listening to that obstinate part. Spiralling to the voice of unreason that told him to shut Dew out again because he truly didn’t deserve such a gorgeous little firefly to be his.

    Alpha couldn’t decide what was worse. Dew finding someone who was actually worthy of him, or giving in and loving his mate in every way he deserves and more.

One shot master post can be found here!

[imagobin]

Hello! What do you think about a Killua & Leorio friendship scenario?: Killua gets inspired by Leorio so that he also wants to become a doctor and Leorio helps him with his studies.

Apologies for only getting to this nowwww I've been way too busy ugh This is SUCH a fun scenario! Idk the twist of Killua going from killing people to saving them is so cute and sweet- let's goooo! This is gonna be taking place a few years later, when Leorio is an actual doctor.

🩵Leorio helping Killua study HCs🪀

I wanna be like you:

Killua was raised to be an assassin, he'd been using his skills to hurt people ever since he could remember, but ever since he'd rescued Alluka from his family, his intentions began to change drastically, even more than they had in the past years.

Unless it was about protecting his little sister... fighting wasn't his priority anymore, especially since hearing that Leorio had actually managed to reach his goal of becoming a doctor.

He'd honestly never paid that much attention to that "old man" before. They were friends, sure, but he'd always been closer to Gon since it was easier to relate to someone his own age.

Hearing Leorio's passion when talking about his dream, genuinely inspired Killua... could he become a doctor too? He'd always struggled with finding his own path in life, always clinging to other people for a purpose... the doubt that he was just doing this as the ultimate act of defiance towards his family or to copy Leorio was still there, but nothing at the moment was forbidding him from trying.

"Leorio... what does it take to become a doctor?" he'd casually brought up the topic, acting typically bashful about asking a question like that. Leorio was surprised at first, but he answered honestly. Aside from studying lots, the desire to help people when nobody else can was his main drive.

"Do you think... I can do that?" Now Leorio was actually floored. An ex-assassin? Wanting to be a doctor? But... he wasn't the type to discourage his friends, quite the opposite- when he understood Killua wanted to follow in his footsteps he felt a sense of pride, and like the great big brother of the group he is, he took it upon himself to help Killua with his new goal.

Learning to focus:

What Killua was not expecting, was his new goal immediately getting challenged by... his own short attention span.

Go figure, the boy who'd fought his whole life and could run around at the speed of light, didn't exactly love sitting at a desk and study boring pre-med books.

Killua found himself often skipping his studying hours or cutting them short. He grew frustrated because on top of that, even when he did study, the information struggled to stick around in his brain. Maybe he wasn't fit for this after all... it was the first time he, a prodigy in fighting and Nen, was... not good at something, and it hit him hard.

He reluctantly brought up this to Leorio, who immediately reassured Killua that it's not that he wasn't fit to study; he just needed to find his own way! Seeing how fast Killua could absorb information in the past through hands-on experience, Leorio suggested he'd learn on actual anatomical models instead of relying on the pictures on the books, and that instead of studying cooped up in a library, maybe Killua would benefit from studying outside.

That advice seemed to work for the white haired boy, and between that and occasionally getting more help from Leorio, Killua actually began believing in himself, he could do this! He was going to leave behind everything his family had ever made him up to be, and he was going to follow his own goals!

Like an older brother:

Over this time, Killua began to see just how dependable Leorio is, almost like the older brother he'd always wished for, instead of Illumi.

It was reassuring to finally have someone in his life who didn't force him into a box, but who instead put in a lot of effort to find what would work for Killua.

Leorio didn't even notice he was doing this, it just felt like the most obvious way to get Killua to accomplish something. It looked like Melody was right in saying he'd be a good teacher as well.

He also got to know Killua a lot better. He'd only seen moments of vulnerability when Gon was in the hospital, but now he was aware of just how anxious he could be in other moments too.

Of course, with Killua always comes Alluka too, the young girl never leaves her borther's side, and during cram study sessions, she'd often stick around to watch her brother study and repeat notions to Leorio in whichever café or park they chose to go to for that day.

Leorio was somewhat aware of Alluka's powers, but he wasn't worried about it. He actually found Alluka really sweet for encouraging his brother to do his best at all times.

Killua still has his short fuse and sometimes gets mad at himself or the book when he struggles to have some topics stick in his brain, but Leorio can see he's truly trying, and he fully believes in him.

As the entrance exams for med school were approaching, Killua sought reassurance from Leorio, he wanted to know how the experience had been for him.

"Trust me, you might be an anxious wreck now, but once they're over, your first thought will be 'Huh, that wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be'."

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Hi! I thought for a moment about how Tsumiki could see Megumi's Shikigami. But when I reread the chapter and realized that she was wearing glasses, everything fell into place.

But what I was wondering was, does Shikigami really like Tsumiki on its own? Like, did Megumi summon each new shadow just so Tsumiki could spend time with them? Or are they influenced by Megumi's own feelings, who loves her sister very much?

See, I like it better if I don't give a definitive answer to it.

I will say that Megumi's not like, socializing them with Tsumiki. They love her from the first time they meet her.

But there's still a question of why they like her so much.

We could say that the shikigami are pure extensions of Megumi. They only do what he tells him to do. It's not that they're personally fond of his sister--Megumi is controlling them into acting like they are. He does it so she feels special, so that she feels loved, so that she get all that expression of open affection that he can't give her. It's a quiet way of loving his sister and making her feel good.

Or we could say that he's not controlling their actions when they do this. He doesn't know why they love her so much either. Maybe it's an expression of how much he loves her that he just can't contain. They're influenced by Megumi's own feelings and are a genuine reflection of how much he loves her.

See, I have an interpretation I like best, but I kind of like it being a reader-based determination. Is Megumi doing it to make Tsumiki feel loved? Or is it because he, at the end of the day, he just can't fully hide how much he loves her?

[happyk44]

percy needs to be haunted by bianca's ghost more

[johnnycagesrightnut]

Thinking about the fact that in E-93742 Mason is Batman instead of Spider-Man which means he doesn’t have Juno which means he doesn’t have EITHER of his siblings

@johnnycagesleftnut lore, brother. Of my spidersona and this character I have based on you with the names you have selected

[helloilikepurple]

DC X DP - DeAged

The Nasty Burger explosion took a lot from Danny.

Stopping Dan meant nothing when Danny lost everything. His friends, his parents, his sister, his teacher - all gone. Danny, desperate to not become Dan, fled. He would not let Vlad destroy the only thing he had left; himself. He didn't turn human again if he could avoid it. Let Danny Fenton die with his family.

He did what he could, trying to keep it all together. Avoid Vlad. Catch havoc-wreaking ghosts. Try to not have a panic attack every time he saw his reflection. FentonWorks became out-of-bounds. No one was sure how to turn off the portal or any of the house's defence mechanisms so it was taped up instead.

Danny kept the GIW away. They wanted his parents' research, even if they had to bend the law to get it. Danny would not let them have it. Never.

But the GIW was persistent and Danny weak from nearly two months of being Phantom and nothing else. He was so tired. Tired from grieving, from fighting, from wandering around, completely lost and alone.

The GIW got a lucky shot in. Danny went down. He woke up, still ghost, somewhere white. He'd trained himself not to have to turn back. He was grateful he did.

The GIW studied him. Danny did not have the energy to fight back. The will to survive. Curled up in his cell, bloody and becoming less human with every passing day, Clockwork finally intervened.

He could not let the future High King wither away into nothing.

With Nocturn's help, he whisked him away. His world was dying anyway. With no one to maintain the portal, it would soon overload and explode. The radiation would kill all life on Earth, leaving nothing behind, and taking with it the potential for new life. One world among infinite realities meant nothing. But Danny, as High King, is a singularity. A unique existence, only found in one reality. Clockwork, for the sake of everything that lives and dies, could not let Danny fade away.

Danny slept at the Far Frozen, dreaming of his family, his friends, and the stars he would one day rule over. He healed, wounds knitting together into scars and fractured core slowly, ever so slowly, repairing itself. A future Ancient, bound to protect all that is and will be, was bound to be very badly hurt from such a loss.

Clockwork only wished he could have done more, but to remove Danny too early would have spelt disaster worse than the deaths of billions. This boy would someday be someone he'd proudly call his grandson. Seeing that future alone was enough to make his own core ache for the young one.

The Infinite Realms wept for its child, still but a babe yet having suffered so much. It embraced its future King, blessing him with its loyalty and adoration. The ghosts of the realms, spread far and wide over distant realities, timelines and worlds, felt the loss too.

Danny healed, unaware of how loved and precious he was to so many - how far he was from alone. The dead's sudden quiet unsettled many. Enemies froze in the silent mourning, animosity forgotten. Raging wars came to abrupt ends. So many, unable to bear the ever-reaching, unidentifiable pain in the air killed themselves. Good, kind people cried alone.

Magic users, like Constantine and Zatanna, hid, waiting out the Infinite Realm's despair for its child. No one spoke of it, for fear of disrespecting the dimension between dimensions. But they hid, and they waited, and they couldn't help but worry for themselves and everything and everyone else.

Danny got a lot of visitors. Ancients, regular ghosts, crowded around his bed, gifting him blessings and support. Danny slept, he healed, and his world died, taking with it all he'd known. He wouldn't remember or know of any of this when he woke  - even the memories of his pleasant dreams will have left him. He'll awaken and think himself entirely alone.

But he'll know, someday.

Clockwork will make sure of it.

---

Danny doesn't know where he is or who he is.

He has a vague idea. His name. His life and his death. But so much is so distant, like impressions on sand, washed away by the ocean. He knows he should be bigger. He knows this isn't home. He knows there is no home anymore.

He knows there are people he misses, but he doesn't know who they are or where they've gone. He knows so little yet so much. White walls and orange hair, green (toxic, writhing green) and hazmat suits, white and black and orange and blue. Expensive, Packers-branded cologne, burning flesh, the scream of an alarm and laughter and fear and hope and love and pain and loss. Disjointed flashes, snippets of another life.

And this isn't familiar - this city and these people. These crowded, filthy streets aren't home, but there's no home anymore so of course they aren't. And maybe Danny should be afraid. He doesn't know where he is, or how he got here. There are people, so tall, walking around him not sparing him a glance. It's loud and smelly and so much to process all at once.

But Danny doesn't care because he's so tired, and he wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep the day away. But he doesn't have a home, so obviously he doesn't have a bed either. He looks around for somewhere else to sleep, rubbing at his chest subconsciously as he does.

There, a building, on the other side of the road. The windows are tinted, but the doors open and Danny, through the crowds and passing traffic, catches a glimpse of what has to be a couch. Maybe the people that own the building will let him sleep on their couch for a little bit.

So he crosses the street, sticking close to the legs of some lady with skinny heels that go tap-tap-tap so the cars don't go because they can't see him. The lady turns to go a different way after but it's okay because Danny is in front of the building now.

He pushes the door open and slips inside. It's quieter inside, and warmer. Danny wasn't cold outside but in here there's a nice heat that makes him feel even sleepier. He looks around at the fancy chairs and potted plants and lights, and is happy to see there are couches. Long couches, with lots of pillows and space for him to spread out.

He walks up to the desk. He's too short to see over it, and it makes him kind of angry because he's sure he's supposed to be taller. But he figures maybe he remembers wrong because people don't just shrink. Except, he's a halfa so maybe ghosts do?

"Hello?"

There's a lady here too, behind the desk, but unlike the one he followed across the street she has short, curly hair. Danny wonders if she's wearing skinny heels too. Leaning his head back, he can see her look up, glance around, and then look back down.

Danny pouts. Did she not see him?

"Hello?"

He waves an arm this time, reaching as high as he can to catch her attention. She finally sees him, eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, sorry! Hello." She has a nice voice.

"Your voice is pretty."

She smiles, and Danny decides her smile is nice too. "Why thank you. You have a pretty voice too. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Can I please sleep on your couch? Just for a little bit."

"Of course you can. Would you like a blanket? I could fetch one for you from the staff room."

Danny shakes his head. "I'm okay. Thank you."

"Alright. But if you change your mind, do tell me."

"You're very nice."

"Thank you, but it's really no problem. Not much to do today anyway."

"You should sleep too then. Sleep is good."

She giggles. "That is a very good idea. I just might take your advice." Danny nods. He has lots of good ideas. "Okay. I'm gonna' go nap now. Bye-bye."

"Sleep well."

There are a few couches, and for a bit Danny's not sure which one to sleep on. He chooses the one with the most pillows. It's very comfy, and the pillows are nice too. He puts one under his head and hugs another, curling up around it. He falls asleep in seconds.

-

When a toddler with black and blue eyes asked to sleep on one of the couches on in the reception hall of Wayne enterprises, May had assumed he was one of Bruce's boys. He certainly fit the type Gotham's favourite playboy liked to adopt, and it wasn't unusual for his wards to show up out of the blue.

Once she found Tim Drake passed out on the floor under her desk. Apparently, he'd been hiding from Dick who was visiting from Blüdhaven and forgot to bring his coffee with him, consequently falling asleep while he waited for her to arrive so he could ask her to go pick some up for him. That had been an interesting Thursday morning. 

On another memorable occasion, Cass, Bruce's only official daughter, and her girlfriend Steph had shown up, said hi, went upstairs, then came back down after about an hour, giggling as they ran out with a wave goodbye. Not even ten minutes later, Bruce himself stumbled out of the elevator, absolutely covered in purple glitter. May remembers raising an eyebrow and asking if Bruce wanted her to have another suit brought in.

He'd ended up collapsing on one of the couches with an exhausted sigh, and said he'd have Alfred pick him up instead. He left a sparkly trail behind him when he walked, and the couch he sat on had to be replaced because, even after numerous cleaning attempts, no one could get the glitter out. He had glitter in his hair for months afterwards.

So, May hadn't bat an eye when the little boy came in. Well aware Bruce had several meetings scheduled that day, she sent him an email saying one of his kids was taking a nap in the reception hall and resolved to look out for the boy herself. Throughout the day, she made sure to check on him often, making sure no one picked him up ran (this was Gotham after all).

He slept soundly for most of her work day, barely shifting. She ended up putting a blanket on him herself during her lunch break and leaving him a water bottle and little snack for when he woke up. She also made sure security kept an eye on him whenever she left for whatever reason.

It was well into the afternoon when Bruce finally replied to her email and asked if his kid was still sleeping downstairs. She said yes, and not long after he arrived on the ground level. He walked up to her desk and asked if his kid had caused her any trouble. She smiled and assured him no.

Then Bruce asked where Tim was.

"Sorry? Tim isn't here today."

Bruce frowned, looking just as confused as she felt. "My apologies. You said one of my wards was asleep here. I assumed it was Tim."

"Oh! No, no, it's not Tim. Well, I don't actually know his name but the little guy has been here since this morning." She gestured to the toddler in question.

Bruce turned around, saw him, and frowned. "He's not one of mine."

"He's not?"

"No. Are you sure he's not an employee's child?" He kept his eyes on the boy, eyes narrowed in thought.

"Yes, I am. Only three employees brought in their children today, and all of them are ten or above. He can't be older than five." She frowned now too, turning to her computer to double check. "I'll send out a company-wide email to be sure. I should have done this sooner. I'm sorry, I was just so sure he was under your care."

"It's alright, May. I'm not upset. I'm just worried about him. When about in the morning did he get here?"

She glanced up, but Bruce was still looking at the sleeping boy. "A little after nine."

"And he's been sleeping all that time?"

"Yes, as far as I'm aware."

"Alright. Thank you for looking after him. I'll take it from here."

"Of course, sir. I'll reach out to you if anyone identifies him."

He nodded appreciatively and walked over to the boy. She watched, frustrated with herself. She's worked as one of Wayne Enterprise's receptionists for over four years. She should have known better than to just assume some random, black haired blue eyed child was Bruce's kid. She should have at least reached out to make sure that was the case.

She sighed as Bruce knelt down by the couch and gently shook the little boy awake, resting her head in the palm of her hand. This poor child. His poor parents. They must be worried sick.

She has to make this right.

---

[dcxdpdabbles]

all of your au's are so delicious how does your brain come up with so many good ideas???

if possible, would you be able to continue Demon Summoning? demon Danny with a language barrier tickles my brain

Danny's eyes snap open. He springs upwards, shouting, "I'm alive! I live, and I shall conquer," throwing his arms into a double fist bump. A distant glow accompanies his cry, but he ignores it.

It must be his powers. They are always a bit hard to control first thing in the morning.

Usually, if he can wake before his alarm clock, he does this little ritual because when he was seven, Jazz read in a Kamra of the mental power." how being able to pump himself up without someone or something needing to wake him would control his day.

He rarely wakes before the alarm clock, but when he does, he tries to shout his self-affirmation.

He waits for the accompanying "My boy lives! Fear him!" that his dad will usually shout from down the hall. When all he hears is silence, Danny realizes something is horribly wrong.

The darkness around him, for example, didn't come from his closed blinds. He seemed to be in a naturally dark place, sitting on a bed that was only visible because of the burning candles nearby.

The most obvious thing was the stone walls covered in random symbols that looked like a cult had been told to vandalize them.

Danny slowly lowered his arms, feeling less like he was the man who could conquer his day with fortune cookie advice and more like a character who got sacrificed in horror movies.

He glances around, but a soul doesn't seem to be near him. Just four walls made of stone covered in black ink and various colored candles.

"Hello?" He calls out cautiously. "Is.....is this a prank? Jazz?"

A low glow of purple springs to life around his bed, spreading through the symbols. The light spreads across the floor in four different directions, and the moment it reaches the stone wall, it slowly goes upwards.

It's brighter the higher it goes until even the ceiling Danny had been unaware of shines brightly. It gives him a better view of the room when he realizes that one of the walls is made of bars.

He's in a prison cell.

Ancients, Danny is in a prison cell!

How did he get here? Where was here!?

The lights go out in seconds, plugging the room into the darkness, which is only affected by the very dim lighting of his candles. Danny grabs the blankets, pulling them up to his chin with a tremble, shifting his eyes back and forth.

He prays his sister will jump out with her usual cackle, claiming this entire creepy set-up was one rather time-consuming prank. It would be far better than the idea that he was kidnapped in his sleep.

"Jazz, this isn't funny. I'm not laughing. Also, Mom and Dad are going to kill you for getting me arrested, just so you know." He shutters, pulling his protective barrier (the blanket) closer to his chin.

The purple returned and vanished just as fast. Danny blinks, lowering the soft material slightly as he says, "Hello?"

Once again, the light returns.

"Is this voice-activated?" He asks the air, watching more purple. He pauses briefly before blurting out the chorus to one of his Humpty Dumpty songs. The symbols go in and out like a rave light as Danny starts to get into it. He drops his covers to pool around his waist, shaking his shoulders up and down and shimming in place.

Eventually, he switches to beatboxing, one hand covering his mouth and the other pumping a fist up and down as the symbols suddenly become cool and switch between various colors in the color circle.

Danny springs up from his bed, boxing and dancing in place as if no one can see him. An idea forms after he nearly chokes on his spit- he's never been the best beatboxer. He fished his phone out of his pocket, clicking through his downloaded ringtones to find the one EMD song he had.

He turned his music as loud as possible and watched the pretty colors flash around him to the beat. He laughed manically and danced around the room to his own personal rave.

He is about to start attempting to break dance when the cell door suddenly groans. Freezing in place, with one foot in the air mid-boggie, Danny can only stare wide-eyed at the thing swinging open to a man in a bat costume who watches him disapprovingly.

"Oh, I forgot about the prison cell." Danny hisses under his breath.

The man opens his mouth, and the sounds that fall out are sounds that might have been a language. He just doesn't know what any of it means but-

Wait. He recognizes those sounds. It was what the cult people were speaking in

Danny gasps, "I forgot about the cult!"

The man narrows his eyes behind the strange mask before stepping back and slamming the door shut. Danny watches him walk backward into the darkness until the man vanishes.

Slowly, Danny lowers his foot to the ground. "I don't feel safe."

Not even the company light show can make him feel better.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Well?" Bruce asks once he's back in the central part of the cave. His family, Raven, and John Constantine surround the Batcomputer, which displays the cameras set up in the demons' containment unit.

He would have preferred more secure holding, but the magic users assured him that natural stone walls with protective wards would be far better for a demon than any man-made prison.

"I'm not sure what he's saying." John fiddles with his pocket lighter, but his eyes never leave the screen. "But that is definitely a high demon."

"He's more powerful than my father," Raven confirms with a grim frown. The curve of her jaw is tense, which only appears when speaking of her parentage. Damian places an arm around her shoulder, offering his girlfriend some support. "It only took him a few seconds to push the wards to their limits after waking up. Then he went around doing a ceremonial dance that was about to shatter the wards, all of them, had Batman not intervene."

"I thought those were your strongest wards?" Dicks asks

"They are," John answers gravely, and the room falls into a troubled silence.

"What's he doing now?" Bruce asks, walking up behind the group but still feeling unsettled. When that- thing- turned to him, the bright glowing green of its eyes felt like the Lazurus Pit waters trying to drown him. He had to retreat quickly, or the screaming voices that appeared when he locked eyes with the demon would have driven him mad.

"He's rattling the bars of the cell," Tim reports, the only one sitting at the controls. "It looks like he is attempting to summon some of his powers as if those twin rings were meant to do anything besides go over his body. Now he's falling to the ground. He's taking the fetal position....he's crying."

They all watched as the demon rocked himself in fetal position with tears streaming down his face. He had a very human face, were it not for the flowing green eyes.

"Well, now I just feel bad," Jason grunts.

"Mate, demons pull this trick all the time. The moment you feel bad for them is the moment they know they won." John sighs. "It's an act. Higher demons are known for doing that. Look. He already broke through the first three levels."

The bottom and wall symbols on the screen shattered in a lovely shimmering boom. The demon screamed, rolling on the ground before it leaped up and broke through the bars in a mad dash.

Everyone gasps as the demon twists around to look right at the cameras. He points towards it while saying something in his strange, chilling language, and the image is lost as the camera fails.

They all twist on their heels, rushing to the containment room only to find that the demon is long gone. On the ground is a disregarded old phone that none of them has seen in years.

It looked like one of the earliest cell phones, with a buttoned keyboard and a tiny screen. Bruce lets his team search for clues as he turns the phone over and feels his heart fall to his knees.

On the screen is an image of Jack Roux.

The boy that they had rescued from being sacrificed only a few days ago. Was the demon not willing to let him go? Was it hunting him down!?

"We have to move." He says, feeling more than seeing his children fall behind him as he runs to the batmobile. "A young life is in horrible danger!"

[vasilissadragomir]

people often use snow’s experiences with lucy gray as an explanation for how he engages with katniss, but i think that the true story of his downfall lies not in how lucy gray and katniss are similar, but rather in how they are different.

snow knew that it was never him that made the games what they are. it was lucy gray, with her scrappy, passionate artistry, that put on the show that kept people watching. more importantly, it was lucy gray that put on the show that kept HIM watching. all he ever did was give her the stage.

ergo, snow recognizes that the person with the power to usurp him is his natural counterpart, someone like lucy gray, who possessed both the charisma and humanity that he sorely lacks. however, in his mind, those traits are not real; they’re performed in order to obtain power. how could he know better, when he’s never experienced them himself, and the only person he ever truly believed possessed them betrayed him?

so snow keeps his eye out for performers, people with gravitas who could capture the heart of the nation, and squashes their spark as soon as he can. people like haymitch. people like finnick.

and that’s where snow goes wrong. he doesn’t see katniss’ similarities to lucy gray from the start, because while they both demonstrate astonishing, intriguing bravery at their reapings, their actions and motivations are completely different. lucy gray is motivated to perform by anger for herself, and katniss is motivated to sacrifice herself by fear for her sister.

but then katniss starts to put on a show for the audience, kissing peeta and being willing to die with the berries at the end of the 74th games. snow starts to see an entirely different side of katniss that resembles lucy gray to a concerning degree. he sees how, with peeta at her side, she could beguile the nation the same way lucy gray had. and, even worse, she was using the poor, helpless boy who had the misfortune of falling in love with her to survive. the moment katniss started performing, he finally sees lucy gray within her. but it’s already too late.

by catching fire, katniss is the spark fanning the flames of the resistance, but snow fails to understand why. as far as he’s concerned, katniss’ star power comes from her connection to peeta. he tries to weaponize their “love” for his own gain, but it doesn’t work, not because people don’t believe that she loves peeta, but because, for the first time, a victor offers their winnings to the family of a fallen tribute.

snow is caught in a catch 22 of seneca crane’s making—if he kills katniss, she becomes a martyr. but if he lets her live, she’ll be a revolutionary icon. either way, she’s the spark. so he has no choice but to allow the spark to flicker, just for a little while. enter the 75th games. snow knows he needs katniss to die a tragic death in the games. more specifically, he needs it to be a brutal death at the hands of a tribute, not the gamemakers, because he understands that as long as the districts see the capitol as the one who ended the life of katniss everdeen, she’ll still be a martyr.

but snow still doesn’t get it. in the quarter quell, the prey does not become predator. katniss’ allies protect her, ensuring she survives until district 13 rescues her. why would they protect this girl, assuming such a steep personal risk? why would they put everything on the line for a revolution they personally stand to benefit little from? he doesn’t know. but he does know that lucy gray katniss is at the center of it all, so he tries to eliminate what makes her look best: peeta.

and that is snow’s fatal mistake. what he, coin, and everyone but haymitch fail to understand is that it was never peeta that made katniss look good—it was katniss, who befriended and put faith in rue. katniss, who recruited mags, wiress, and beetee as allies. she is the source of revolutionary inspiration. it isn’t her charisma or even her compassion, and it certainly isn’t how well she performed those virtues.

katniss becomes the mockingjay because of her solidarity.

lucy gray was charismatic, like peeta, and compassionate, like both peeta and katniss, but she did not demonstrate solidarity. she was never truly “district” in the way katniss is. she showed kindness to jessup, not because he was from 12, but because he showed kindness to her. lucy gray left behind everything and everyone she loved when she left coriolanus, because she was first and foremost a survivor.

katniss was a survivor her whole life, but she survives exclusively to ensure the people she loves are protected. she always does what she can for people more vulnerable than herself. lucy gray couldn’t have sparked a revolution on her own because she lacked the solidarity that makes a hope for a better future authentic to others. katniss is the human manifestation of solidarity, and to a people divided by a common enemy, that’s the most inspiring thing a person can be.

only in the end, when katniss shoots coin, does snow realize none of it was a performance. choking on the blood of his countless adversaries, snow’s final moments are consumed by what he got wrong. what made lucy gray and katniss different ends his reign, but ironically, the final nail in his coffin is an act that both lucy gray and katniss share in their last moments with snow. they both prove, unequivocally, that he is not the center of their worlds like they are his. lucy gray put her own survival before her love for him, and katniss puts the future of her nation before her hate for him. in the end, he simply doesn’t matter. and that’s greater justice than could have ever been achieved if katniss had fired her arrow into his heart.

the greatest enemy to coriolanus snow could only be the person who reignited the embers of a dying revolutionary fire, who demonstrated to a broken people that while one spark alone might not be enough, thousands of sparks uniting in solidarity is an unbeatable force.

and really, he should have known better. after all, even when snow lands on top, fire melts snow.

[heartilyrins]

Idk if u still write about kinich but I read the two things that you wrote about him and...omg awakened things in me (๑﹏๑//) (I'm even doing an oc who is kinich's sister hehe) feel free to ignore this if u like but imagine big brother Kinich doing pussy inspections just to ensure that you're still a virgin. ( ≧ᗜ≦)

WAIT WAIT I LOVE THIS SM.

//tw incest, dubcon

Big brother!Kinich who’s so protective of you since you’re a child and that has never changed even as you both grow. You’re so innocent of what the world can do to you.

Big brother!Kinich who starts to think about you more than he should’ve let his mind linger as you grow, your body’s grown more fuller.. Your curves has start filling in and he feels so so bad to be thinking about his little sister like that :(

Big brother!Kinich who notices that Ajaw also noticed him stealing glances at you and starts teasing him about being a siscon, but he just got flung in the air and disregarded.

Big brother!Kinich who’s possessive as fuck, he will actually attempt to kill someone who has tried to get close to you. And he has tried it before, he won’t hesitate to try it again.

Big brother!Kinich who tells you to lift your skirt and show your private parts to him with a cold glare as he spreads your thighs open to prode on your folds.

Big brother!Kinich who mentally promises to himself that he won’t do more than this, but it’s getting harder to control because of your pretty pink pussy :(

Big brother!Kinich who decides that it will be best if he is the one that takes your virginity instead. Oh come on, he deserves it for taking such good care for you this whole time.

Big brother!Kinich who only realizes that he shouldn’t be doing this right when his cock slipped inside you. He shouldn’t be doing this—he will tell to himself but still keeps thrusting inside your warm receptive pussy until he climaxes.

Big brother!Kinich who after he finishes doesn’t have any sense of regret and all—he whispers to you that maybe you should just be a housewife for him instead.

copr. heartilyrins

[curseofdelos]

mentally I'm still here:

Nico insisting that neither of them are going to be sacrificed/left behind to satisfy the prophecy is a perfect encapsulation of his growth over the series and it makes me SO soft to think about

Nico as a character - particularly in BoO - doesn't have a lot of self-preservation. He doesn't really care what happens to him as long as the mission gets done. We see this most explicitly after he almost fades into nothingness after the Bryce Lawrence incident:

And again when he considers shadow travelling into Octavian's tent to assassinate him:

(Nico himself notes here that it was unlikely he would survive another jump. If Will hadn't stopped him, he probably would have died.)

In both cases, Nico was willing to risk death for the sake of ending the war. He puts very little value on his own life, and repeatedly argues to Reyna, Hedge, and Will that the possibility of saving camp (a place he never felt welcome at, might I add) is worth the risk of losing his life.

Even before Nico went on the quest with Reyna and Hedge, the others were concerned about his safety. Percy tried to remind him how unpredictable his shadow travelling could be, and Hazel notes that he has been acting strangely lately:

It's not quite clear what Hazel is worried about here, but my interpretation of this scene is that she's concerned that Nico isn't thinking - or perhaps, isn't caring - about what effect the constant shadow travelling will have on his wellbeing. Between Tartarus, the jar, and the Cupid incident, Nico's mental state is at its worst at this point in the series, and I think Hazel is worried he'll do something reckless - something he can't come back from.

And so in TSATS, when Nico is told that he's going to have to leave something of equal value behind in order to save Bob, the old him would have had zero issue sacrificing himself if that's what it took to ensure Will and Bob's survival. This version of Nico, who's been going to therapy w/ Mr D and opening up more and built a little support system for himself, can't fathom it.

Nico in BoO did not have a future. He had fully convinced himself that nobody cared about him or would miss him if he was gone - not Percy who fought for him at every turn in PJO, not his sister Hazel, not his new friends Jason and Reyna. He was ready to leave both camps behind because he couldn't see himself ever being happy there. He couldn't see himself being happy at all.

But now, in TSATS, he has a boyfriend that he loves, he has friends that he loves, and he has a community in Camp Half-Blood. He has experienced so much loss that losing someone else is his worst fear. The old Nico would have considered sacrificing himself to protect Will and Bob. At the very least, he would have kept that option in his back pocket as a 'just in case'; he wouldn't have sworn on the Styx that he wouldn't stay behind.

This Nico, however, is doing much better - not perfect, but better. He loves Will, and he wants a life with him, and he's not willing to give that up for anything. Nico has hope for the future, and he's clinging to that hope with everything he has. He sees a light at the end of the tunnel, and he wants to reach it. He's not willing to sacrifice himself because it means losing that future.

Gone is the cynical pessimistic Nico who assumes the worst because the worst is all he thinks he can have. Here is the Nico who has had a taste of happiness and is willing to fight to keep it. He's not going to sacrifice himself because he wants to live. He's not just fighting for Will here; he's fighting for himself too.

And seeing him go from "if it kills me, it kills me" to "it's not going to be me" makes me so ASDFGHJKL

[01zfan]

anything 4 u | j. sc

brothers bestfriend!sungchan x fem. reader | 9k words

loosely inspired by anything 4 u by LANY. this damn near killed me to write omfg.

contains: arguing, double standards, a little possessive? on both sides, sungchan and the reader are both a little mean. unprotected sex.

anything 4 u: confident | one | two

sungchan was shotaro’s bestfriend. they gravitated towards eachother before they could even walk. home videos showed the two of them crawling side by side as babies.

before you came into the world as shotaro’s sister, sungchan was his first sibling. shotaro was the closest thing sungchan would ever have to a sibling, he was the only child in his house. 

“can you stop messing with her, sungchan?”

when you joined the mix, sungchan wasn’t on board. he discovered jealousy as a toddler, having to share shotaro’s attention with this new thing that cried all the time. sungchan didn’t understand what was so interesting about you, why shotaro wanted to spend all of his time watching you be an annoying baby instead of playing outside. sungchan would complain when his bestfriend would drop everything to go to you when you’d cry. sungchan would complain when they couldn’t play rough with you or that you couldn’t play video games. sungchan would go over to shotaro’s house only to find out he was going to be the plus one at your princess tea parties.

sungchan let his jealousy turn to teasing and he became the first and only person to get away with it. shotaro only watched your interactions and laugh, knowing you’d get him back tenfold. by the time both of you were preteens, you and sungchan had built a relationship that bordered bullying. you always made sure to come out on top, only having to tell shotaro that sungchan was bothering you so he could collect his friend. 

when you two first became teens, sungchan found himself seeing you in a different light. the teasing had started to become forced on sungchan’s part in an effort to hide his emotions. he was able to convince himself that it was normal to feel that way about you from the proximity of being together and how familiar your personality was. but when sungchan was around you he forgot his words and only received your teases instead of dishing them out the way he used to.

by the time sungchan was about to go off to college, he had started to become protective of you. he tried to make his protectiveness logical, blaming it on the fact that he would be going to school away from his bestfriend, like he was compensating for the future knowing he’d be so far away from his friend. sungchan also blamed it on the fact that no one else seemed to notice you were always texting someone on your phone and you coming to the house late at night. sungchan was basically forced took to bare the burden of being your protector and to stop you from making bad decisions.

when you found out sungchan was no longer the immature boy who pulled your pigtails or stole your toys, you found yourself coming to him more. he was able to give you unbiased opinions, and you could tell him about the crushes or failed relationships that broke your hear. he was a familiar face in your life, one you didn’t mind spilling your heart out to. sungchan had found you a couple times crying your eyes out over something unimportant. sungchan followed the sound of your gentle sobs when you thought you were alone, slowly opening your door telling you everything was going to be okay. each time he was comforting and nonjudgemental, letting you get it all out before helping you find a solution.

the relationship you had with sungchan turned into something strange. you found yourself telling him things you could never tell shotaro or anyone you saw as a brotherly figure. at the same time sungchan didn’t feel like just a friend. there was something more when it came to sungchan, something you tried to ignore. you combated the turbulent emotions it by telling sungchan about all your newest romantic endeavors, hoping that it would make you only see him as a friend.

sungchan found out quickly he couldn’t be someone you came to in relation to boys. you had shown sungchan one too many photos of your direct messages, filled with non-deserving boys trying to get with you. the messages all began the same, all of them acting ignorant to the fact that you were shotaro’s sister, or that sungchan was always near you. too many of the faces and named were familiar, some of them even running in the same social circles as sungchan and shotaro. seeing the messages made his blood boil, causing him to accidentally tell shotaro something he wasn’t supposed to know about.

shotaro was surprisingly calm about the situation. sungchan saw his friend be the calmest he’s ever seen when it came to protecting you. shotaro only tilted his head slightly while asking extremely specific questions. sungchan answered calmly, suddenly embarrassed that he seemed more angry about you seeing guys than your overprotective brother was. when sungchan was done answering shotaro’s questions everything was back to normal. the two continued playing basketball like nothing had happened. 

sungchan had almost forgotten what he told shotaro until you came home the next day. the two were playing a game when you stomped through the house screaming their names. sungchan was wide-eyed and shocked, but shotaro was completely calm as he continued to play.

“up here.” shotaro said casually.

sungchan could hear each stomp up the stairs. sungchan had stopped playing, only focused on shotaro’s closed door that he was sure you was going to break down soon. 

you came through the door so fast the door hit the wall and recoiled back. shotaro only looked up after he killed sungchan’s character in the fighting game, looking at his door that slammed against the wall.

“mom is gonna kill you.” shotaro said evenly.

“i’m going to kill you!” your wild eyes locked on sungchan’s, and you brought a finger up to point at him. “then i’m going to kill you!” you yelled.

that’s when shotaro got upset and leapt to his friend’s defense. when shotaro stood up and started yelling back at you sungchan was frozen on the bed with his head on a swivel watching the screaming match in front of him. sungchan had no siblings, so he could never understand how you two were going at it so viciously or loudly. what sungchan understood was to keep his mouth shut as you two went at it. he knew better than to interject and become the new target both of you focused on. 

so sungchan held his tongue, even when he knew shotaro was acting irrationally. he could tell you knew your brother was being ridiculous by the way you let out a deep breath and pinched the bridge of your nose. before you could argue back sungchan saw you give shotaro a simple smile and a head tilt. it was the same expression shotaro gave sungchan when digging for information about your date.

you said nothing else to shotaro or sungchan. you turned around and left, slamming your door behind you. sungchan looked around shotaro’s room to see his pictures on the wall shake. only a moment passed before shotaro went back to the game like nothing happened. sungchan had to act he didn’t just witness the most brutal screaming match he’s ever seen in his life. sungchan only continued playing on the game with his friend, subtlety trying to sneak looks to your closed bedroom door to see if you would come out.

“she’s going to act out like crazy now.” shotaro said.

sungchan had to pull his attention away from your door to his friend. shotaro tried to remain calm, but he could see his friend was visibly bothered. when the round of fighting was over, shotaro turned off the game and rubbed his temples from the stress.

“you know her top pick for college is the place you’re going to?” shotaro asked.

sungchan was the first one you told when you got accepted.

“i had no idea.” sungchan said, shaking his head.

“can you look out for her when she goes there? just until she finds a group of friends?” shotaro asks.

sungchan knew he should’ve said no. you already had friends and you were going to be an adult soon. sungchan had also promised himself that he would stop doting after you when he would leave for college. the distance would do him some good, maybe he’d finally be able to calm his heart when you came around. you were more than capable of making your own decisions, both sungchan and shotaro knew that. but when shotaro looked to sungchan and told him he’s the only person he could trust, sungchan couldn’t say no.

so when you came to campus a year after sungchan, he did what his friend asked him to. he looked out for you and kept tabs on you through mutual friends. sungchan even found himself at the frat parties you would be at on friday nights under the guise of seeing his friends. he wouldn’t drink, knowing that it would be him guiding you and your drunk friends back to the dorms. he had become your confidant, the incident from highschool long forgotten. you knew now sungchan was looking out for your best interest—the man you were going to see that night wasn’t a good person. 

once sungchan found out he was in your good graces again he was wrapped around your finger. he followed you around campus, making sure you got to your classes before he even thought about going to his. he was there for you the moment you called for him, and he found himself taking you anywhere you asked. sungchan put his car to good use, taking you to the store or to pick up food for you. sungchan was able to find an excuse for doting on you, telling himself that it was because he had to look out for you after shotaro asked. 

he only told your brother the good things. you were doing great in school, and you had found a good group of friends. sungchan never dared to tell shotaro that you went to parties in cropped shirts and even shorter skirts, that you were seeing boys, or that he was slowly developing feelings for you.

sungchan was determined to play the long game with you. he never made the first move, never even expected you to reciprocate his feelings. sungchan was happy to just be your guardian angel at the frat parties you frequented, or the person you could come to with your problems. sungchan saw himself as such a constant in your life that you didn’t notice his developing feelings. how were you supposed to know he was doting on you when you’ve been doted on your whole life?

it wasn’t until he laid on the floor of your dorm with you that he couldn’t take it anymore. you were in the middle of telling him about your most recent conquest, some random guy who was your partner for an upcoming project. sungchan sat up suddenly, not looking down at you laying next to him as he spoke.

“i don’t think it’s appropriate for you to tell me about the men you’re seeing anymore.” sungchan said.

you sat up too, not used to sungchan putting his foot down or him telling you no. 

“why not?” you seemed to think for a second before your mind started filling in the gaps of sungchan’s silence. “did you talk to my brother?” you asked.

he defended himself quickly, shaking his head to show you he was being honest. you visibly calmed down before asking your question again.

“i mean i talk to your brother everyday, but not about who you’re seeing.” sungchan said.

sungchan pulled in a deep breath and let it out. he came clean then and there on the floor of your dorm room. he told you about how shotaro asked him to watch after you when you came to campus and how he enjoyed taking care of you a little too much. 

before sungchan could confess his feelings, you did it first. you pulled sungchan in for a big kiss, throwing all of your body weight onto him. he caught you and held you, reciprocating your kisses and smiling when you pulled away. it was wordless your confession, everything communicated through smiles and shining eyes.

from that point on you and sungchan have been in a relationship. everything was the same as usual, except you didn’t go to parties as much and sungchan talked to shotaro a little less. sungchan found it extremely hard to talk to your brother about your life with you in the room. that’s why sungchan was on the phone with his bestfriend now, trying to smack away your teasing and persistent hands that messed with the buttons on his flannel.

“just say you’re busy.” you whisper.

you make sure to say it close enough to the speaker that forces sungchan to crane his body away from you.

“sorry taro i was watching a show. what did you say?” sungchan smiles when he talks to shotaro but turns away from his phone to give you a stern look.  

you hold up your hands defensively like you’re doing nothing. when sungchan’s attention goes back to his phone you go back to messing with him, pulling at the end of his flannel and leaning in to kiss his neck. 

“one second let me pause the show.” sungchan puts his hand over the speaker of his phone and looks at you. “stop it.” he commands.

sungchan’s eyes are large and indignant, trying to get you to listen to him. you try to take sungchan seriously for his sake but you can’t stop yourself from smiling. sungchan trying to boss you around is when you find him the funniest. your smile only grows when sungchan grips both of your wrists with one hand. even as he holds both of your wrists to keep you away from his body he doesn’t use much strength. it’s all for show, both of you know sungchan would crumble to you immediately if you asked. but you humor him, sitting patiently on his lap while he continues talking on the phone. 

sungchan eyes you, still holding your wrists as he listens to shotaro.

“you need me to pick her up?” sungchan looks at you, trying hard to pretend like you’re not in the room. 

“that fancy italian place? no i haven’t been.” sungchan looks at you again when you make a tiny ooh sound. “i don’t know if she’s been shotaro. how am i supposed to know that?” sungchan says.

“okay. we will meet you there at 6:30.” when sungchan sees you shake your head he stops shotaro mid sentence. “actually does 7:30—” sungchan checks your expression and when you give him a thumbs up he nods his head. “does 7:30 work instead?” he asks.

you still sit on sungchan’s lap, messing with the bottom of his flannel as he gets confirmation from shotaro. 

“okay. see you then.” 

when sungchan hangs up his phone you let your hands go underneath his shirt. he lets out a sigh of relief from being off the phone while you draw your breath in. sungchan is solid underneath your fingers, and so warm you find yourself wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

your chest is pressed against sungchan’s when he brings his arms around you too. he kisses the top of your forehead, letting a sigh slip from his lips again.

“we almost got caught.” sungchan says quietly.

“no we didn’t.” you say

you were the complete opposite to sungchan in regards to shotaro. sungchan didn’t know how you weren’t constantly panicking at the thought of shotaro finding out. sungchan knew shotaro well, and he knew that he did not play when it came to you. sungchan’s stomach dropped at the thought of shotaro finding out about the two of you. the betrayal and anger that would cross shotaro’s face winded sungchan. he couldn’t stop thinking about every single terrible outcome possible as the two of you got ready to meet shotaro for dinner. sungchan found himself not saying a word the entire car ride to the restaurant, mentally practicing how he was going to talk to you with your brother around. sungchan put his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching for your hand, and he walked in front of you to stop his mind from subconsciously trailing close behind you.

when you and sungchan met shotaro in front of the restaurant, shotaro went to hug you first. whatever playful teasing was happening was lost on sungchan, he was too busy overthinking how close he might’ve been to you. he looked at your hand twitch in between the space of your two bodies. he casually moved, afraid that you were going to grab his hand in front of shotaro. he felt the side eye from you and the confused look on shotaro’s face before he brought sungchan in for a hug.

sungchan was so focused on trying to remain as neutral as possible that the night went by him in a blur. you filled in the silence or the awkward gaps in the conversation that were a result of sungchan not listening. he was grateful for your easygoing personality, but sungchan found himself tipping his head occasionally at you, surprised you weren’t nearly as effected as he was. you were the same version of yourself, no pauses in your words or shrugging your shoulders in confusion. the only reprieve sungchan got from conversation was when the food arrived.

“i hope you guys enjoy the food.” sungchan watched the waitress smile to you and shotaro, both of you nodding your heads the same way. when the waitress got to sungchan she put a hand on his shoulder and pointed at the food on his dish. sungchan’s eyes snapped up to hers as she pointed at the plate. “i put a little extra on your plate for you.” she said, smiling at sungchan.

before sungchan could say anything the waitress was gone. he was left with the with an extra serving of food on his plate with you and your brother staring at him. shotaro had a facetious smile on his face as he continued eating his food—you looked at sungchan with wide eyes and a straight face. he couldn’t stop his face from feeling hot, trying to play off the very obvious flirting. 

“she must’ve seen how tall i am.” sungchan laughed nervously, trying to find a reason for the extra food.

“oh she must’ve.” you scoffed.

shotaro didn’t pick up on the nuance in your voice, how annoyed you sounded. he only laughed, focusing on the attention that sungchan was getting. 

“you’re all red in the face.” shotaro teased.

“no i’m not.” sungchan said back.

sungchan felt like his face was on fire as he could see you progressively get more and more upset. sungchan silently wished for his friend to be quiet, to stop digging sungchan into a hole he couldn’t get out of. the more shotaro talked the more annoyed you became, by the time the waitress came back with the check you were clenching your jaw, wordlessly pushing food around on your plate with your fork. even when the conversation shifted to sungchan catching up with shotaro, you were completely silent. sungchan wordlessly took the initiative to fill in the gaps in the conversation with questions about shotaro’s studies, or how he was adjusting to being away from home. you barely contributed to the conversation, never reacting to sungchan’s quick glances to you when shotaro was occupied with his food.

you knew that sungchan could tell you were pissed off. the way he would shake his head profusely anytime shotaro brought up the waitress  made you blood boil and when he stole quick glances you felt like rolling your eyes. you couldn’t stop thinking about the waitress and the way her eyes lingered, or how she gave sungchan nearly double his serving of food. everything was too obvious, right in sungchan’s face and he actively denied it. he was denying everything for your sake, but you had eyes of your own to see the scene laid out in front of you. you never considered yourself to be the possessive type—you never had to be. arguably the only positive effect of being spoiled was that you never had to greedy or clinging—you never had demand for something if it was handed to you without having to say a word. 

but you had a mean streak when it came to sungchan. he knew it too. he knew that you never had something not go your way. he knew you always got what “rightfully” belonged to you and never settled for anything less. but here sungchan was, blushing and shaking his head bashfully while a waitress blatantly flirted with him in front of you. a voice in the back of your mind that you’ve never heard whispered to you that sungchan liked the attention. the thought made bile brew in your stomach and the anger almost pushed you to stab your fork through the plate in front of you.

“i think we should get the check.” sungchan looked at you pushing food across your plate, a majority of it was untouched. he could see your jaw clenching and he could feel your legs becoming restless underneath the table. “it’s getting kinda late. i have a class early in the morning.” sungchan says to shotaro.

sungchan almost feels bad seeing the confusion flash across shotaro’s face, but he knows it’s time to go. sungchan was unsure how much time he had left in this restaurant before the hole he accidentally dug himself into was too deep. shotaro understood, motioning for the check to the waitress. sungchan ducked his head when he felt her gaze on him. unfortunately for sungchan you saw it all, following the waitresses line of sight straight to the side of his head. 

sungchan couldn’t bring himself to meet your gaze while the check came. he focused solely on shotaro, head resting on top of his clasped hands as his own legs started becoming restless. when the waitress placed the check between shotaro and sungchan, sungchan failed at snatching the paper before shotaro could. his eyes glossed over the prices of the dishes, instead focusing on the tiny note written at the bottom. shotaro elbowed sungchan playfully, and sungchan tried to telepathically get shotaro to not say anything else.

“sungchan, she left her name and number on the receipt for you.” shotaro whispered to sungchan.

shotaro was amused by the sight, showing the paper to sungchan. before shotaro could show the receipt to you sungchan quickly snatched it from his hands. shotaro let out a small sound of surprise, raising his eyebrows comically when sungchan shook his head.

“she handed the receipt to you, so it must’ve been for you.” sungchan said quickly.

shotaro shook his head and you were so close to losing it you smiled and laughed to yourself briefly. never in your life would you have thought you’d be in this situation. you felt insane and sungchan quickly put his card in the folder to pay. he pulled out cash to tip instead, too afraid to take the pen to the paper.

“she was definitely flirting with you.” shotaro said when the waitress circled back around to collect the form of payment. “i mean look at how much food she gave you.” shotaro continues.

“it wasn’t very good though,” sungchan looks to you legs crossed in the seat, eyes wandering around the dining area apathetically. “right?” sungchan asks you.

you only shrug your shoulders, letting out a sigh as you scratch at your scalp. sungchan turns to your brother, not reacting to your extremely obvious annoyance. shotaro only focuses on sungchan, side-eyeing him when the waitress comes back. when sungchan sees you looking away he puts up his hands frantically motioning him to stop. when you look back to sungchan, shotaro gives him an extremely obvious wink. sungchan sighs and puts his reddening face in his hands. 

“hope to see you guys again!” the waitress calls after the three of you while you walk to the door.

“you will!” shotaro says playfully.

sungchan continues to walk, speeding up to try to make it to the door of the restaurant before you can. before sungchan can open the door for you, another man beats him to it. the biggest smile you’ve had all day adorns your face, and your eyes do a quick look up and down of the man holding the door open as sungchan stands directly behind you.

“thank you.” you say.

your voice is saccharine, and your eyes invite the man to look you up and down the same way. the man doesn’t spare sungchan a glance as your face takes up the lens of his sunglasses.

“you’re welcome.” the man says back.

the moment is quick, flying past shotaro as he falls behind sungchan. however sungchan freezes in front of the door then and there, replaying the moment in his mind. the candied looks and the complete turn in your mood at the drop of a hat. the honeyed look the man got is nothing like the glares sungchan got all night, and the sweet demeanor is nothing like the closed off girl that stands in front of the restaurant looking back at sungchan in annoyance. shotaro bumps into sungchan, complaining about him stopping the flow of traffic. sungchan ignores his friend, letting the quick burst of jealousy fire off in his brain. it intensifies and mellows out at the same time as sungchan clenches his fists, following shotaro as he brings you in fro a hug. 

sungchan can still see the unmistakable sour look on your face soften for the second time, your previously crossed arms open to hug shotaro back. the straps of your purse are still caught in your white knuckle grip, and you purposely avoid looking at sungchan as shotaro sways you back and forth. sungchan turns his head to face the night breeze, maybe the calm weather could calm him down.

“what are your plans for the rest of the night?” shotaro asks.

sungchan looks to you as you answer the question. he can see the gears in your mind turn, and he swears he can see the smallest smile flash across your face before your lips turn to a pout.

“i’m tired. i wanna to go back to campus.” you complain.

“what’s wrong?” shotaro stops in the middle of the parking lot, putting his hand to your forehead to check for your temperature. “are you feeling sick?”

sungchan has to remain benevolent, acting like he doesn’t feel your piercing gaze as look directly at him.

“i’m feeling very sick.” you put your hand over your stomach. “like i might throw up, actually.” you say.

shotaro is instantly worried, asking about food poisoning and asking you if anything tasted bad. sungchan looks at you making a scene in front of your brother, indirectly complaining about something sungchan couldn’t control. sungchan was able to be calm and levelheaded when it came to you, but sometimes your spoiled attitude cut through the patience. the way you looked to your brother with fake pain made sungchan scoff out loud.

“dramatic.” sungchan said under his breath.

you smiled to yourself when shotaro snapped his head to face sungchan. 

“look who’s talking.” you sneer.

sungchan felt like he was a kid again, rolling his eyes and stomping his feet at shotaro babying you. maybe sungchan was jealous that he couldn’t be the one doting after you, holding your purse in one hand while checking your temperature with the other. but he put himself in the position of being only your brothers annoyed bestfriend, so he was going to act like it.

shotaro played his role well too, stopping the two of you before you could start bickering. shotaro looked between the two of you, stern as he told sungchan to take you back to campus. sungchan fake protested—all three of you knew it was just for show. sungchan only crossed his arms across his chest before nodding his head silently. shotaro smiled and pinched his sungchan’s cheek, talking about how good of a friend he is.

“i gotta start driving back now before it gets too late.” shotaro says.

he hugs both you and sungchan, hoping that you feel better after a long rest. sungchan has to convince shotaro you’ll be alright, going the extra step to say he’ll pick you up medicine from the store if you still feel sick. shotaro thanks his friend before pulling him in for another hug. you two walk shotaro to his car to send him off.

“drive safe.” you say to shotaro.

“text me when you get home!” sungchan tells shotaro before he shuts the door.

both you and sungchan wave shotaro off as he backs out of the parking spot. you continue to wave, even long after his car disappears down the road.

almost immediately, sungchan tries to put a cautious arm around you. you look up at sungchan with your meanest look, shrugging his hand off your body as you start walking towards his car.

you can hear sungchan sigh as he starts to follow behind you, still keeping a hand close to your back incase you stumble in your heels. you looked uncomfortable in them the whole night. if you would’ve let sungchan he would’ve gladly picked you up and carried you to the car. he still opens the door for you despite you trying to beat him to it, and you have to pull the seatbelt from sungchan’s hands to stop him from buckling you in.

when sungchan gets in the car and puts the key in the ignition, neither of you say a word. you hope that sungchan doesn’t speak before you have the chance to calm yourself down. you close your eyes, to try and muster up the last bit of understanding in your body to not snap at your boyfriend. when you close your eyes all you can see is the waitress, how she flirted with sungchan and he did nothing to stop it.

when sungchan doesn’t pull out of the parking spot you open your eyes. when you hear him pull his keys from the ignition you start to get irritated. when sungchan clears his throat, you practically have smoke coming from your ears. 

“it’s not my fault a girl flirts with me.” sungchan says.

your eyes widen, indignation across your face.

“it actually is your fault.” you say.

now it’s sungchan’s turn to look upset, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you confused.

“what did you want me to do?” sungchan asks.

“maybe not pretend like you don’t notice? she was practically fucking you in front of me.” your voice starts bouncing off of the walls in the car.

sungchan’s eyes go wide and he laughs in shock, mouth open in amusement at your dramatics.

“you know you’re being ridiculous.” sungchan laughs.

hearing sungchan call you ridiculous makes the remaining bits of your patience crumble. before you know it you’re pointing an accusatory finger in sungchan’s face, your manicured nail almost poking his nose.

“you’re the one that won’t even tell my brother we’re dating!” you yell.

“he’s my bestfriend!” sungchan says, raising his hands in defense.

“but you’re my boyfriend!” you draw your hand back,fingers flat agaisnt your palm as you feel the car heating up. “what if i flirted with a waiter or went out with the guys shotaro has tried to hook me up with?”

you point is proven when sungchan has a visible reaction. he can’t help it, the way his eyes close and his mouth dips in disgust. he didn’t even realize he reacted until you pointed your whole hand at him.

“so that’s what’s ridiculous.” you say.

when sungchan says nothing back, your anger starts dipping. it turns into defeat, and the adrenaline leaving your body at such a fast rate causes you to you lean against your seat. you’re defeated, between the dinner and your unregulated emotions getting the best of you, you’re suddenly exhausted. you only lean your head against the window, staring outside as you feel the stone forming in your throat.

“just take me home, sungchan.” you say quietly.

he hears you clearly, putting his keys back in the ignition before silently pulling out of the parking lot. 

the drive back home is silent. songs play from the speakers of sungchan’s car, many of them are songs that remind him of you. he feels sick seeing you upset, leaning your head against the window not saying a word to him. you won’t even look at him, your eyes trained on passing building and stoplights. sungchan almost wishes that you’d yell at him, that you would let it all out. but he only continues to drive, the hand that would usually be on your thigh grips the steering wheel hard.

the closer sungchan got to campus, the more he felt that sinking feeling in his stomach. his mind went to the worst possibilities—you calling it off or making him choose between you and shotaro. when sungchan pulled in his reserved parking spot, he felt like he was going to be sick himself. 

sungchan didn’t know that the sick feeling in your stomach dissipated a long time ago. the migraine you got from your frustrations melted and traveled to your stomach, making your whole body feel warm. you didn’t know what to do with the jealousy and the possessiveness you felt for the first time tonight. when you noticed the empty spaces in the parking lot of students that went home for the break your mind started to wander. the feeling in your stomach turned to something that churned and pulled you towards sungchan when you noticed the deep tint of his windows. 

sungchan was too busy turning the engine off, trying to figure out how to get you to speak to him. he turned his key, hand still on the ignition as he turned to you.

“and what about you,” sungchan looks over to you. “treating shotaro like an attack dog still after all these years.” he says.

sungchan watches you take in his words through one ear just for them to fall out of the other. you’re spoiled and can never admit when you’re wrong. it’s shotaro’s doing but sungchan is no better, your attitude comes from years of everyone around you giving you what you want. sungchan remains steadfast, refusing to back down to your irrational anger. but he doesn’t see the anger in your eyes when you look to him. he sees a playful glint, and he feels your eyes look him up and down. sungchan subconsciously straightens his posture, letting silence fill the car again. 

you mess with the locks on sungchan’s door, slowly switching back and forth. the sound makes sungchan feel uneasy, how slow and constant it is as you very clearly think about something. he remains still in the drivers seat, trying to not falter. sungchan only lasts a second before looking back to you and clearing his throat.

“you’re really just not going to say anything?” sungchan asks.

sungchan feels the hair on the back of his neck raise when he sees the smile on your lips.

“get in the backseat.” you said from your spot. 

sungchan remains still, looking to you in disbelief. at a time like this, in the middle of a fight in the student parking.

“we need to talk about this.” he says.

sungchan believes that he still has authority. he can be mean when he has to be. although sungchan’s sternness is fleeting he believes that he can channel it when necessary. but the way you look at him with glossy puppy eyes reminds him why you’re so so spoiled

“can’t we talk in the backseat?” you pout.

sungchan wasted no time, barely looking at the mostly empty parking lot as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. he pulled on the backdoor handle twice impatiently, waiting for his car to automatically unlock. 

when his car finally decided to listen, he clambered into the backseat, laying across the cushions like he has so many times before. when your relationship was new and your roommates were nosy, the only option you guys had was the backseat of his car. what was awkward at first turned to second nature, and then it became a rarity when sungchan got his own place. but now here he was, shirtless waiting for you in the backseat like old times. the only difference was that you stayed in the front instead of clambering over the seats impatiently to follow after him. sungchan looked to the back of your seat, already feeling an ache in his pants from the anticipation and tension from the night.

“babe?” sungchan called out. 

you moved in the front seat, causing the car to slightly shake. sungchan was filled to the brim with excitement, reaching for the button on his pants to push his jeans down. when his jeans were pushed down to his thigh he saw your pretty manicured hand—paid by him—reach to to the backseat. your panties hung by the end of your nail, dangling in the space by sungchan’s face. before they could fall to the floor he grabbed it a little too quickly, balling it up in his hand and bringing it to his face.

although he couldn’t see you he could hear you scoff and say some degrading word that made him twitch in his pants. 

sungchan wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was nasty when it came to you. he liked licking his cum off your body to clean you up. he liked pulling you up after you sucked his dick and tasting himself on your lips. he liked making a mess of you when you were together, and he liked stealing your panties when you weren’t looking to keep them for himself. he liked smelling you after a long day after work, taking in big huffs of you as you bashfully hit his shoulders. he liked rutting his dick pathetically against your body. he liked doing those things because when he did it you’d look at him with that almost disgusted glint in your eye and call him a freak. he wore it like a badge of honor. he was a freak for you and you alone—your freak. so when he heard his title fall from your lips, all he could do was nod his head. you finally came into his view, body hunched as you made your way over the center console. 

sungchan reached his hands out to help you, one hand still holding your bunched panties. he clutched the fabric a little tighter when you declined his help.

you sat on the other side of the car, completely silent. sungchan could feel his pupils shake. he swallowed thickly as he waited for your next move.

“are you going to keep those for yourself?” you mocked.

sungchan nodded, realizing he couldn’t see the disgusted look in your eyes well enough. he stretched to turn on the light in the backseat, illuminating the space. he could see your foot propped on the seat while the other was planted on the floor. your legs being spread gave sungchan an almost clear view of your cunt, only obstructed by the fabric of your dress that laid between your legs. sungchan squeezed your panties in his hand while licking his lips.

“come over here, princess.” sungchan said.

sungchan settled against the door and spread his legs, trying to look as inviting to you as possible. he even went the extra mile to throw in your nickname, one that he used to tease you with until you would raising your voice at him. you thought about it, eyes raking down his body before you shook your head.

“i don’t think you deserve it.” you say simply.

while sungchan shifted in his seat abruptly, you were calm and collected. you started by slowly working your hands from your knees. sungchan clenches his hands at his side, seeing you tease yourself the same way he always does. when you reached the ends of your dress you teasingly lifted it up, giving sungchan a quick peak of you. when he reached forward to touch your inner thigh you smacked his hand. the sound of you disciplining him echoed off the walls of the car. sungchan recoiled and audibly whined before going back to leaning against the door.

“what’s gotten into you?” sungchan said.

you always had the habit of bossing sungchan around, it’s been that way since you both were young. but the one time you were obedient and listened to what sungchan told you and pliant in taking whatever he gave you was during sex. the two of you came to the agreement that sungchan was more than capable of taking care of the both of you, because his pleasure was entirely too dependent on yours. he liked seeing you get weak underneath him and he liked having to take you the rest of the way when your body failed you.

but this was different. 

you had told sungchan so many times breathlessly that you liked when he grabbed you, you liked seeing how you seemed to fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, even if your flesh spilled out between his fingers. sungchan has seen your eyes screw shut from pleasure because of touches that were light as a feather. so sungchan had no idea why you were denying yourself the pleasure of being touched by him. he was forced to watch you sit across from him as you lifted up the bottom of your dress. you subjected him to watching you slip a small finger into your cunt, forcing him to see and hear you whine from frustration when you realized it wasn’t enough.

“i told you that you don’t deserve it.” you added another finger, and sungchan watched you try and bend your fingers the same way he did when he was inside of you. “you don’t even act like my boyfriend.” you pouted.

sungchan kept his hands tucked underneath his thighs, nails digging into his skin. he shook his head like an idiot when he saw your mind try to comprehend why you weren’t getting what you wanted.

“i’m your boyfriend baby, i promise.” sungchan squeezed your balled up underwear in his hand as you unskillfully fingered yourself. “touch your clit too.” sungchan said, nearly drooling.

you snapped out of your haze instantly. sungchan’s eyes that were honed in on your cunt went to you face. when he saw your narrowed eyes he showed apology immediately through his widened eyes. when he saw that you stopped fingering yourself completely he felt his heart drop, and when you pulled your fingers from yourself he pouted deeply.

“i know how to masturbate, you fucking idiot.” you seethed. your tone was harsh but your body shook, the after waves of pleasure running through you.

sungchan nods quickly, biting his lip at your insult. the way your words cut through him with the airy tilt from stimulation has sungchan aching in his pants. he presses against the fabric of his underwear, he has to shift and move his jeans down his leg further to allow for more space.

“i’m sorry baby. i just want to help.” he apologizes.

you go back to your show, smiling at your pliant boyfriend. the one who was so adamant about standing up for his wrong opinion was malleable before you, doing anything you wanted with just a simple look. all you had to do was press your finger to your clit and look to sungchan’s bare thigh before he was hastily pushing his jeans down his legs. when you opened your legs a little wider sungchan nearly tripped over himself to put hands on your body.

sungchan saw every part of you call to him—your chest that moved in tandem with your body, the dip of your hips that always allowed sungchan to have a perfect grip of you. even your eyes called to him, blown out with want and your cheeks begged to be touched. sungchan covered the expanse of your body in seconds, gasping and clutching at anything as you continued touching yourself. sungchan pressed wet kisses to your neck, trailing all the way up until he got to your ear. you loved when he did that, shivering with each kiss pressed to your skin.

“you’re mine right?” you whimpered.

sungchan pulled away to look you in your eyes. his hand tilted your chin and kept it in place when you tried to turn away. he saw your eyes almost gloss over when his hold on your face tightened.

“yes.” he said.

sungchan’s voice was no longer desperate, no longer apologetic or looking for approval as his other hand started trailing towards your cunt. you had taken your hand away from your core completely, one hand already holding the back of the driver seat for stability.

“you’re mine.” sungchan said.

sungchan reveled in you passing the baton to him as you dumbly nodded your head. you went back to being his princess, batting your long eyelashes as you blinked away tears. your soft pretty hand from never working a day in your life went over sungchan’s large hand, slowly guiding him to your center. your plush lips almost mouthed please as sungchan just let his hand rest there, unmoving.

sungchan smiled in your face, reveling in the defeated look. all the anger was just a show, you were now desperate and nearly begging for what you wanted. this was nothing like the girl who had people submit to her like it was nothing.

“you really don’t know what to do when you don’t get what you want, huh?” sungchan cooed at you, tapping on your cheek as his other hand on your center didn’t move.

you nod your head before shaking it, hesitating before you see sungchan’s smile get bigger. he cups his hand around your head, and you pitch your hips forward slightly to get closer.

“you just get mad and hope for the best, don’t you?” sungchan asks.

you nod again, and you continue nodding until sungchan slips his middle finger and ring finger into your heat. your eyes close and your hand goes to sungchan’s hand that still holds your face. he doesn’t stop pumping into your heat, looking down at your furrowed eyebrows and your wobbling legs. he slides in so easily, and he can see how pitiful you are so clearly from up here. sungchan taps your lip with his finger. you part your lips so sungchan can lick them, and you open wider so he can slip his tongue into your mouth. you whine instantly, bringing both hands to grip sungchan’s shoulders. you tilt your head to give him a better angle, even if it sacrifices your own comfort.

he picks up the pace of your fingers, just to feel how you fall behind his kisses. sungchan pulls away, purposely letting spit dribble from the corner of your lips.

“you’re so spoiled.” sungchan says amazed.

“it’s your fault. you always give me everything i want.” you say nearly breathless.

you have a small smile as you struggle to open your eyes. when you finally do, sungchan picks up the speed to wipe the smug look off your face. you’re a mess all over again, mouth opening while pitiful high-pitched whimpers fall from your lips.

before you can tell sungchan you’re close he speaks first.

“i don’t think you deserve to cum.” he says mockingly.

instantly your eyes open, tears threatening to spill at the denial of something so sweet. sungchan only watches you in amusement, still trying to decide your fate.

“you want me to give it to you?” sungchan asks.

you nod, hands reaching down to pull at the elastic of his underwear. sungchan smiles, pulling away from you to free his dick from his pants. you pull your legs from the center console, tucking them underneath you while you wait for sungchan to give you what you want. with your underwear still balled in his hands he beckons to you, spreading out his naked body like he’s your new seat. 

you close the small space quickly, pushing your face into sungchan’s. it’s rushed, you miss a beat when he smiles against your lips at your desperation. he guides your hips to straddle his, and you put your hand against the fogging window as the other rests in the crook of his neck.

when you pull apart sungchan bunches your dress at your hips, exposing your lower half to him. he looks down before letting a glob of spit land on his heavy dick. it’s against his stomach, occasionally twitching upwards when you dig your nails into his skin. his hand goes to his dick, mixing the spit and precum down his shaft as lubrication. his other hand guides your hips forward until you hover above him. you pull in a gasp in anticipation.

“ready?” sungchan asks, smile on his lips.

before you can say yes, sungchan slides you down on his dick. he stretched you out, this new angle in the cramped space causes your body to seize before relaxing. sungchan hisses as he finishes sliding in. your head goes to the crook of his neck, whimpering at his pulsing dick buried deep in you. sungchan’s face is void of pity as he drags your body up to make you take him all again. you do nothing but whine and moan pitifully into sungchan’s neck, sucking on his skin to satisfy your oral fixation. sungchan takes your hand that presses against the window to pull it behind your back. lack of stability causing you to lean more into him, and takes away any attempt you could make at pulling yourself up from sungchan.

“you like it?” sungchan pulls your body up before bringing you down harder. “when i tell you that you belong to me?” sungchan whispers into your ear.

his voice is strained, holding back grunts from the way your walls squeeze around him and pull him in.

“i do.” you whine.

sungchan lets go of your hand but you keep it there, placing it on his thigh to try and hold your body up. sungchan thrusts up into you quickly at your suspended state, completely changing the pace he had set. you dig your nails into his flexed thigh as a result. he watches your chest bounce in the confines of your dress. part of him wants to rip it off of you, but a bigger part of him wants to keep you completely covered in case someone catches you two out here. sungchan refused to have too much of you exposed in public, seeing your body in all its naked glory was reserved for him and him alone.

“this pussy belongs to me.” sungchan presses his finger to your clit, and your body curls into him even further. you’re a whining mess, letting yes repeatedly fall from your lips when sungchan rubbing revolutions on your bundle of nerves. “you don't even treat her right.” he scoffs.

“please give it me sungchan.” youpull away from the crook of his neck to reveal your tear tracks, wet and shimmering down the sides of your face. 

sungchan tried his best to remain mean. but seeing your glossy self-bitten lips and your wet face softened sungchan. he still snapped his hips up into you that caused your chest to jump and his car to shake, but he cooed at your pitiful face and kissed your salty tears before swiping them away with his thumb. he kissed your forehead and wrapped an arm around your back underneath your arm to bring your chest close to his.

“anything for you, baby.” he moaned quietly.

sungchan’s voice was gentle with you, but the change in the way he fucked you was not. suddenly the arm wrapped around your back pulled you up and he snaked his arm underneath your leg to hike it up. he lifted your body with small grunts to bring you down harshly, making you cry out loud. crescent moons were digging into sungchan’s skin and you could feel your nails bending from the pressure. the sound of your hips coming down on sungchan’s filled the car, mixed with moans he finally let slip from his lips. you were both getting high off of getting fucked, your walls clamped around his dick in a vice grip that had sungchan cursing your name. how could he not give you everything you wanted while you felt like this inside. you both looked down where you two met, watching sungchan disappear inside of you to hit deep in your stomach. he looked up at you, blowing a piece of hair from his line of sight.

“look at me.” sungchan grunted in between thrusts. 

you listened immediately, eyes glazing over as you got close to your peak again.

“you’re gonna cum just for me?” sungchan asked.

you nodded, words fractured anytime you tried to speak.

“so close.” you stuttered.

“i can tell.” sungchan said knowingly.

“cum—” you stopped mid sentence to lean into sungchan’s chest. you looked up at him from your place on his chest and he looked down at you, eyes full of love as he watched you become more and more undown. your walls held him a little tighter when he tried lifting you. “cum inside. all yours.” you babbled.

that was all sungchan needed to hear. he pulled you down one last time, gridning his hips against yours to stimulate your clit. sungchan’s eyes looked everywhere, and felt your drool on his chest as you slapped his thigh. it was always a telltale sign for you, trying to relieve your tension. sungchan grabbed your hand to limit the movement and continued moving his hips.

you let out one final cry before arching your back against sungchan’s chest, and he held you in place. you squeezed around him over and over, milking his dick until he had no more left to give you. your wet walls still pulsed, so much that sungchan could feel his cum seeping out past his dick. you went completely limp against him, your loud cries turning into soft whimpers as your body started shaking. if sungchan touched you, you whined, and when he didn’t touch you you pressed your chest closer to his. it was a game sungchan didn’t want to win.

“i really always do give you what you want.” sungchan said.

it was a quiet revelation, one you had a long time ago back when you two were kids fighting over pointless things.

“yeah. you do.”

[bvidzsoo]

Underwater

The first star of Cosmically divine...

☆ Author: bvidzsoo

☆ Pairing: Choi San x female reader

☆ Warning: nudity, smut, blood, mentions of war and threats to kill someone

☆ Word count: 6.9k

☆ Rating: nsfw

☆ Genre: Greek mythology, San is Ares, forbidden love

☆ Summary: You knew that your love would never be fulfilled as the man you loved belonged to another woman. But can you help your poor Naiad heart when San, the God of war himself, seeks you out again and again when he is most vulnerable?

☆ A/N: Hi, lovelies!^^ I totally didn't write this piece in one sitting, naaah, yes I did. I hope it's good and enjoyable as I have my doubts with it I was so hyped up but anyways. I appreciate all your feedback, it is very welcomed, so let me know what you thought of it! If you'd like to join the taglist of the series let me know! I'll point out a few things before you start reading the story:

★ This is inspired by Greek mythology, but I took creative liberty and adapted it to my likes, so keep that in mind while reading, thank you! ★ Ares is the God of war ★ Artemis is the Goddess of hunt ★ A Naiad Nymph is a female spirit that preside in fresh water ★ Aphrodite is the Goddess of love ★ Hermes is the messenger of Gods ★ Iris is the goddess of rainbow but was also considered messenger of Gods ★ Atë is the goddess of mischief ★ Dion is a village and municipal unit in the municipality of Dion-Olympos in the Pieria regional unit, Greece; it's known for its sanctuary of Zeus and its ancient city (it's so beautiful over there guys, if you get the chance, you should definitely visit the village, and Mount Olympus too!!) ocean divider; greek divider

☆ Taglist: @patchofblue @sthwaaberry @constipatedcorgi @holytidalwavechees3cake @cheolliehugs

@slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @hoeforsungie

༄ ҉ Series m.list ༄ ҉ 　

            On the outskirts of the ancient city called Dion, just by the foot of Mount Olympus an enchanted forest vivid with Nymphs of all kinds encompassed the land, offering a much-needed sanctuary and protection to those who were in need of tranquility and a piece of quiet, away from all mortals, and even Gods that had their watchful eyes on everyone and everything at all times. The small Lake of Naia, springing from the top of Mount Olympus, rushing down rapidly the rocky side of the mountain only until it became merely a gentle stream was the place I referred to as my home. It wasn’t just my home, it was the home of many Naiad nymphs that have been birthed and then raised on the shores of Lake Naia by their elderly sisters, naiads that have been here for centuries, having witnessed atrocities, but so many beautiful life-changing events as well. We were fond of this place, and we protect it ardently. No foul soul was allowed in the vicinity of our sacred Lake, Artemis herself having blessed our sanctuary.

Men who were desperate for enlightenment, or were feeling lonely, would often find solace in our presence, grateful for an eternity to us, making promises, which, due to their fragile lives would never be completely fulfilled. But that was alright, my sisters and I never expected too much from them as long as they honored and cherished our land, our Lake, our home. After all, mere mortals wouldn’t be able to offer us what the Olympian Gods could. Warm bodies and warm souls that we could often lay upon our hardships, our fears, and our future ambitions. I have never stepped too far away from my home, walking barely a few feet away from the Lake would make me feel restless and unnerved, unsafe and exposed to the not so kind men that liked to haunt and torment us when the Gods weren’t on the look out for their dear naiads.

Besides Artemis, not many came often to Lake Naia, its location too close to Olympus and yet too far from Dion for the Gods that were rather lazy, like Apollo. Zeus always had his eyes on his children and kin, however, if they travelled far away enough from Olympus, he’d certainly turn a blind eye to whatever shenanigans they deemed fit on their travels on Earth, disguised as something they were not. Even Artemis liked to change her features when she came down to bless our Lake and show gratefulness for guiding and protecting the maidens through their hardships, however, there was one God that never bothered to hide his true self. All bloody and gory and authentic, brute yet hands gentle as if they were afraid to bruise those innocent, eyes sharp and menacing upon first glance, yet warm and intense on a second glance. The mortals liked calling him Ares, but I preferred his birth name, the one Zeus had given him, San.

San had always been a gruff and intimidating man, as the God of war, he was strong and vigilant, quick on his feet and cutting with his words. Very few naiads had the courage to approach him, scared he’d hurt them if they displeased him in any way, and so, the task of looking out for him whenever he visited Lake Naia fell on my hands. And despite the stories that I have heard about the fearless man, I couldn’t bring myself to find him terrifying or mal-intentioned, not when his lips quivered when he whispered the names of those fallen in battle, not when tears would escape his beautiful eyes before he’d submerge in the crystal-clear water of Lake Naia, desperate to rid himself of all the blood, suffering, and screams of those that have perished underneath the sharp blade of his sword. San was a man with a delicate and soft soul, yearning for a connection that was simple, a connection in which he didn’t have to explain himself nor feel guilty, a connection where one simply listened to his burdens and coaxed him further inside the warm and tranquil waters of Lake Naia.

Being immortals, it’s been too long and I wouldn’t be exactly able to pinpoint the time and date of when San decided that he’d choose Lake Naia as his piece of heaven and peace after a long and exhausting battle, but ever since then, his visits became more and more frequent. Perhaps it was due to the rising tension between the settlements as the mortals were never quite thankful with what they’ve got, so, they challenged each other to a war that only lead to disaster and suffering, dividing families and scarring individuals for a lifetime. And despite the real reason as to why San was here should have saddened me, as a protector of maidens that have fallen victim in these wars, I only found my heart gleeful and quickly beating the more often he showed up. There was something majestic, captivating and divine about San, and my poor Naiad heart stood no chance against a man whose walls crumbled the second his armor was off his body.

            Times were dire, nature had a way of silently absorbing everything the mortals felt. And as part of nature myself, I found myself quite volatile lately. Even the quietest snap of a twig sent us back deeper inside the lake, ready to submerge and watch from underneath whatever fool decided to approach our sacred place. My sisters grew restless and they refused to step out of Lake Naia, whispers of the forest surrounding us carrying word that a war not too far from our home was brewing as the military forces of two settlements failed to see eye to eye. Artemis visited more often than before, blessing our humble abode and promising a new location that would be even safer if the events would turn grimmer, but my sisters and I refused to flee. This is our one and only home, the only place that we’ve known since eternity, since the cosmos has birthed us, and if it came to it, we’d rather perish with this place than abandon it and leave those who love it as much as us behind. Artemis did not like our refusal, but her word couldn’t go against our eldest sister’s, and once we’ve put our hearts to something, we rarely changed our minds.

Due to the sun hiding behind the clouds, the Lake failed to stay as warm as usual, but our songs kept it idle for a quick dip. My sisters have disappeared somewhere deep-down underneath, their absence coating the surroundings in a serene silence, perhaps a little bit even eerie. I knew what this meant as I lurked just above the surface, eyes set on the steadily approaching figure. Its outline was harsh and looked to be almost vibrating as his heavy footsteps echoed in the silent forest, the animals just as reluctant as my sisters to be in the vicinity of the God. Pushing my head above water, I took a deep breath and slowly swum towards the shore, the soft water clinging to my skin like a second skin. The sword that was gripped in the God’s hand glinted in the light, despite the sun being hidden, and it left a red path in its wake as he came closer to the Lake. Something salty and nauseating hit my nose as my feet touched the fine soil of the Lake, the water up to my neck as the sword slipped from the God’s hand, clanking loudly against the grey stones that littered the path that led towards Lake Naia. Heath flooded my body, and it wasn’t from the Lake as I walked further out, water below my chest, it was from the God’s body heath as red veins swirled underneath his pristine and tan skin as his arms were left exposed. The miniscule cut on his right bicep was the first thing that caught my eyes as the water of the Lake finally reached my ankles, white dress heavily clinging to my body and failing to hide anything as my black hair looked almost molded to my back as it wetly stuck to it. A soft exhale and the deep furrow of his dark eyebrows was the first sign that my God felt exhausted as we came to stand face to face, his body tense and vibrating with the remnants of adrenaline, meanwhile mine felt lax and tingly as I bowed my head, curtsying.

“San, my possessor.” I didn’t need to speak loudly, there were no sounds around us, just San’s breaths coming out in short puffs, chest rising and falling rapidly underneath his black steel armor. The stench of death would make anyone run away, but as I raised my head up and laid my eyes upon my possessor’s face again, I could only feel pity seeing the regret and exhaustion whirling together in his sharp eyes, clouding his mind and I could almost hear his thoughts.

“Y/N, my nymph.” And the God’s voice that roars and shatters in a battle was now shaky and soft, warm to the point that it made my heart beat faster, “I have missed you dearly.”

I didn’t dare smile as I extended my right hand, eyes stuck to the swipe of dark blood underneath his right eye, trailing down to leave the impression of a bloody tear. I swiped at it with my thumb, and San’s eyes closed as he gulped, sighing loudly.

“Let me take away your burdens.” I whispered as I stepped closer, the heath almost devouring me as the red veins seemed even more alight underneath his tan and soft skin, heart beating out of the God’s chest as his eyes slowly opened, black eyelashes fluttering as they settled on my face.

“Please.” A God never pleaded, never fell to their knees in front of anyone. A God was strong and fearless, ready to devour anyone who dared disobey their command. I offered San a small smile as I leaned forward, lips parting just slightly before they made contact with the cut on San’s bicep, a whimper leaving the man’s lips upon the contact. And his eyes were glazed over as I pulled back, the taste of salt tangible on my tongue as I caressed his now healed bicep. San knew what to do, and with a deep breath he fell to his knees, hanging his head low as my hands caressed his cheeks before his jaw, settling around his neck. His skin was hot, flaming almost, gushing with life underneath all that heavy muscle and flesh, desperate for a gentle and understanding touch. I allowed my hands to travel lower, onto his shoulders, nimble fingers unclasping the harsh steel from around his defined shoulders. A pause, another sigh, and San stood tall once again, a calloused hand settling on my hip as he oh so gently pulled my body closer, my fingers itching the more blood they touched, which was now rusted onto his armor, the same armor that Hephaestus had designed for him upon the request of Zeus so that it would make San, his bellowed son, invincible. San’s sharp, but softening, eyes remained on my face as my hands first went around his middle, leaning my fragile body against his. It was sturdy, unmovable like a mountain, but it was also warm and gentle, a quiet promise that it would keep you safe from any evil. San’s fingers twitched before they dug into my hip, his armor sharp and cold against my own body, but I welcomed its closeness as San seemed to melt into the embrace, his tense muscles finally easing up at last. He could finally be vulnerable, bloody or not, in my eyes he was perfect and benevolent.

“Your battle must have been strenuous.” I spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence, as I gently peeled myself back from the embrace, fingers latching onto the clasps at the God’s middle, undoing them and letting the bloody armor fall to the ground, looking like it’s been broken in two. But it wasn’t, it was unbreakable just like its possessor.

“I have not had the opportunity to close my eyes for six days as of today.” His deep voice lost all the malice it usually carried, and my eyes remained focused on the dents and marks the armor has left on the poor God’s sun-kissed skin. My warm fingertips gently traced against them, the muscles flexing underneath them as the God hummed in content, both hands holding firmly onto my hips. I smiled as he leaned forward and gently rested his chin on top of my head, allowing me to trace the scars left by his ruthless armor, knowing that they’d disappear if I touched them. I closed my eyes as my fingertips reached them hem of his trousers, which weren’t made of steel but were magically enhanced so that there wouldn’t be a repeat of Achilles, and I leaned just a little bit forward to press kisses tracing his collarbones. The sighs the God let out were of pleasure and he hummed in appreciation as I untangled the knots of his trouser and gently pushed them down his hips, caressing his loins firmly as San groaned, nails digging through the thin fabric of my white translucent dress.

“Then we shall get inside the Lake.” I proposed and San hummed in agreement, grip not faltering as I stepped back to steer us inside the water. When our eyes found each other again, his were ablaze with want and need, but he knew he had to wait until we got inside the water. And so, he reluctantly released me and eagerly took my extended hand as I interlaced our fingers, a small and charming smile appearing on his face for the first time today. I chuckled and lead us back to the water, walking backwards as the smile only seemed to stretch on San’s lips, red veins ablaze and whole being glimmering in the light of the small clearing the Lake resided in, the clouds slowly uncovering the blazing sun as the weather reached my thighs, San’s body convulsing as it was overheated from the battle and the Lake would cool it down. I walked further inside, my body welcoming the familiar feel of the soft water brushing against myself, like a cocoon forming a protecting layer over it, my own armor.

San’s body shook when it was finally submerged, underwater, and I released his hand as I giggled and took a deep breath, to tease him, and dipped my head underwater. I opened my eyes and grinned as his legs kicked out to stay above water, never having been keen of having his head under the clear water of the Lake. His naked body looked almost translucent underwater and I swum around it, playfully nipping at the skin of his back, thighs, abdomen, calves, and chest, my teasing cut short when a strong hand seized me around the neck and yanked me above water, dark brown eyes coated with lust and cheeks flushed as our bodies pressed together, legs wrapping around his middle subconsciously.

“Rest now, my San.” I whispered, eyes fluttering shut as his hot breath fanned my face, heart thundering underneath the hand pressed against his chest.

“I’ll bring you a star on our next rendezvous.” His words were rushed, almost desperate before hot lips pressed against mine, devouring them with fervor, with desperation and a neediness that I fear will never be satiated.

            The forest was loud for once, animals buzzing around, a deer timidly coming down to our Lake to hydrate itself, and Yeri, our youngest naiad, lay giggling on the shore as she teased the deer by leading it around in circles with a string of water, until our eldest sister chastised her for tormenting the innocent creature. As our youngest sibling, she was rather mischievous and loved to play around whether it was with animals or humans. Younger men especially loved her, but she only enjoyed their company as long as they remained on land and her in water. She was the least trusting of anyone other than her naiad friends, thus why she had refused even Artemis’ offer of finding her a lover that would dearly cherish her.

I was laid back on a larger rock by the Lake, resting back on my elbows, my white dress almost completely dry as I swirled my toes around in the water, humming in contentment as my sisters voices meddled with mine as they were gathered towards the middle of the Lake, playing a tagging game. I smiled as I listened to their giggles and cheers, which were mixing with the beautiful songs the birds were singing, echoing our voices almost perfectly. The strong, divine, presence first gained our attention as everyone perked up, sensing it come closer as my body grew jittery. I curiously stood up, not expecting a visit from Artemis so soon, or another deity for the matter. But when my eyes fell on the approaching form in the distance, I instantly knew who it was. My eyebrows furrowed and my heart jumped in joy, but I couldn’t help feel concerned at the same time. San never visited unless he went to war, to a battle, and he had told me truce was laid upon the two settlements after they lost many men. He had no reason to visit, yet he was here. And my sisters shared my unease as they all grew warry, stopping their game as the eldest one called Yeri over, deeper into the water. I scrambled onto my feet and offered them a calm smile, not wanting them to panic and do something rash when it came to San. Understanding my request, they swum further away from the shore, only their eyes and the top of their heads visible as my feet touched the soft grass, San’s face now visible as he came closer.

Expecting complications and even a summoning to Olympus, instead, a bright smile decorated his lips, eyes crinkled and a skip to his confident steps as he hurried down the path having spotted me. Feeling confused but glad to see him nonetheless, I returned his smile and gasped when I was swept off my feet, his arms firm around my waist and twirling me around. I clung to his neck, lips brushing against his ear as I giggled, a similar sound leaving San’s lips. My heart skipped a few beats before it started beating faster altogether, every vertebrate in my being jittery as I realized this was the first time I have seen San so happy and relaxed, his sword nowhere in sight, and his armor polished and clean, glinting and carrying the scent of pine and musk instead of the salty stench of blood.

When he was done twirling me around, he placed me down on my feet, but kept his arms around my waist and leaned down hastily, warm and red lips pushing against mine. My eyes fluttered closed and I allowed myself to melt into him, cupping his cheek as our lips moved together softly, making it feel like it was the first time I was kissed by him. I felt my head whirl around and fingertips grow warm as San smiled into the kiss, apparently refusing to pull back just yet as he kept pressing little pecks against my plush lips. There was something about his demeanor that brought tears to my eyes, a side of San that I was seeing for the first time despite us knowing each other for an eternity now. I had dreamed of what a happy and free San looked like, a San that wasn’t tormented by a battle where he had to slay mortals and swallow their screams, feed off of the pure madness, hatred, and rage. I have prayed to Artemis to see a San that was so happy his whole body glowed from it, and now that I had him in my arms, laughing and kissing me, I couldn’t contain my own emotions.

“Why are you crying, my little nymph?” His voice carried worry as he caressed my cheek and swiftly wiped a stray teardrop from underneath my eye, eyebrows furrowing, “Have I made you sad? Perhaps even mad by showing up so unexpectedly?”

“No!” My voice raised without me meaning to do so, and my arms tightened around him as I pushed up on my tiptoes, ours noses grazing together as I stared inside his dark and soft brown eyes, “No, my San, I am beyond delighted to see you in such light. I have only dared to dream of seeing you one day happy and carefree.”

“My little nymph,” San whispered, expression faltering for a second as pain clouded his eyes, but it was quickly gone as I traced his high cheekbone with my forefinger, eyes taking in his beautiful features only a God was gifted with, “I had not known you harbored such wishes; I should have known seeing me always all roughed up after a battle brings you pain.”

“No, San,” I shook my head, a small smile appearing on my lips, “It brings me peace of mind and solace that I am the one you seek out after such feat, that I am the one you come to, to chase away your pain and fears after a battle.”

“Sometimes I see the stars in your eyes, Y/N.” San’s voice was merely a whisper as his hand gently brushed a strand of hair off my face and behind my ear, “When you look at me so deeply like right now, they sparkle with life and I see the cosmos in them. You are majestic underwater, but it will never come close to how you look when your eyes land on me.”

I gulped, feeling speechless as my cheeks grew hotter and darker in color, fingers tangling into the small hair on San’s nape. It was the first time his black hair wasn’t pushed back to make his eyes look even more piercing, but was rather soft looking and fluffy, hanging into his eyes as a dimple formed in his cheek as a wide grin made it onto his face again, “If my heart stops beating one day, I wish you to be the last thing I see before I must go.”

San shook his head, eyebrows furrowing again as he held onto my face, leaning so close his lips brushed against mine when he spoke, “You shall never leave me first, I promise you’ll be here until my last worshipper perishes, and even then I do not wish to take you with myself into the Underworld.”

“We won’t go to the Underworld, San.” He gulped as our gazes bore into each other and then he nodded, wordlessly and looking a little defeated, releasing my face as he cleared his throat. Sensing that he had something important to say, I released him and stepped back a little bit, watching him curiously as he reached inside his armor, pursing his lips as if he couldn’t find what he was looking for. I took my time to pay close attention to him, to take in his all like this, so that I could replay it when I missed him most. The way the sunlight fell on him made his caramel skin glow even more, face relaxed and a smile almost always present on his red lips, eyebrows unfrowned for once and expression serene as his muscles remained lax, not even a bit tense. When he finally found what he was looking for, he made a sound of triumph and I smiled a little wider, looking at him with big eyes as he pulled a collar out of his armor. I couldn’t determine what it was for, or whether it was a necklace or a collar, but when he opened his palm and raised it up for me to see better, I gasped in shock. There, worked into the steel that looked a lot like the one his armor had, was a little glowing star shining almost blindingly up at me.

“I promised to bring you a star,” San said quietly and then turned me around gently, pulling my black hair from around my shoulders to one side only, “I wish you keep something of mine on yourself, for protection.”

My lips pulled into a small grin as the cold steel touched the base of my neck, “You wish for everyone to know who I belong to upon one glance, don’t you, my greedy little possessor?”

San chuckled behind me as I felt him secure the clasp, his voice just a little bit deeper when he spoke up again, “You know me too well, my little nymph.”

His lips brushed against my ear and I turned my head to look up in his eyes, heart beating out of my chest, “Thank you, San, like the star around my neck, I’ll continue gazing at you as if you were my own personal star.”

A beat of silence passed between us before I felt San’s body press up against mine from behind, hand coming up to cradle my jaw and hold it firm as he leaned down into a searing kiss as reward for my words, as reward for allowing him to claim me in front of all Gods and Goddesses.

            Not long after San’s visit, another deity seemed to be keen of visiting our humble Lake Naia. Albeit, this Goddess has never been too fond of our existence right at the feet of Mountain Olympus as she had claimed we’ve been charming her men away from her. She could have anyone, she had everyone, us mere Naiads could never live up to her beauty and charms, but she failed to see and understand that. My sisters and I had been gathered around the rocks, just by the shore, giggling about the latest gossip we have heard through Hermes’s secret lover, having been accomplice to the kidnapping that he had planned for Iris. We have sworn secrecy to her and Hermes, and swore to keep her safe and hidden from Zeus as long as she sometimes indulged to our gossipy nature and came down to the Lake for a bath where she’d share all her stories as she lived in the closest settlement, Dion. An outcast Goddess had been wreaking havoc lately there and Iris was trying to find ways to warn men without the other deity catching on, but Hermes is too scared Atë would tell Zeus of his once prized seer’s whereabouts and thus had forbidden Iris from meddling with the other Goddesses shenanigans.

The birds songs grew louder and the foxes ran out of the bushes as a light breeze entered the clearing the Lake resided in, and the strong scent of roses and pomegranate invaded our senses as my sisters and I became alert to the presence of a deity other than the two we would welcome here so often. The lower half of my dress was soaked as I had dangled it in the water prior, and due to Yeri, my long black hair was now tangled into intricate twists with flowers secured in it. The cold steel necklace sat snuggly against my neck, the star softly buzzing at all times and sometimes humming along to my songs. The giggles and laughter died down as the approaching presence took its time apparently, taking in everything our humble abode had to offer her. My eyes stayed on her, closely watching her every move, and I felt the strength leave my legs upon realizing who it was. I felt my cheeks heat up all of a sudden, the steel necklace too heavy around my neck as my lungs seized up, almost suffocating me. Yeri, always quick to catch the change in someone’s mood, intertwined her fingers with mine and squeezed them gently, offering comfort in the subtlest of ways.

“Ah, Lake Naia,” The Goddess’ voice was melodic and soft, yet it carried over the space between her and us, “I have heard so many stories about this place, but never truly had the itch to come and see it for myself. You have bewitched quite a few men, my little nymphs, both mortal and immortal, do you know?”

Her piercing eyes fell on me as she finally reaches us by the rocks, making me gulp as I averted my eyes, looking at our eldest naiad as she stood gracefully, a pleasant smile on her lips as she approached the Goddess.

“Aphrodite, my Goddess, what brings you to our humble home?” The naiad curtsied and Aphrodite chuckled, looking around. A dove flew overhead and I felt goosebumps erupt on my skin underneath the white dress as the star became a little bit too hot against my skin.

“I have come to bathe in the Lake that chases away all your fears and terrors.” The Goddess said, suddenly unlacing the top of her yellow tunic, leaving her bare to our eyes, “At least that is what everyone claims this place accomplishes.”

“My Goddess, we would love to have you bathe in our lake.” The eldest naiad smiled, stepping aside to let the Goddess walk towards the lake, “We’ll take away all your worries, just as you wish.”

“I want her to bathe me.” A perfect milky finger was pointed towards me and my lungs seized up again, a lump suddenly forming in my throat as I opened my mouth to speak up, but my vocal chords felt like they were being crushed. Yeri grew tense next to me, her grip on me tightening as she stood in front of me protectively, glaring at the Goddess. She was fearless, she looked the lions in the eyes and challenged them without any fear for the repercussions.

“Aphrodite, my Goddess, I am afraid she will not be able to bathe you.” The eldest naiad tried to save the situation, the air growing tense as my vocal chords started to burn and I gasped, grasping at my neck helplessly.  

“She has been claimed by Ares!” It was Yeri’s shrill voice that tore through the clearing, making our sisters gasp around us as finally the pressure from my vocal cords was gone and my lungs also eased up, forcing me to intake large gulps of air, “She cannot touch any other deity than San himself, my Goddess, but you knew that already, did you not?”

“A Naiad with a sharp tongue, how refreshing.” Aphrodite chuckled as I yanked on Yeri’s hand and gave her a harsh stare for being inconsiderate and rude to a Goddess that could turn her into foam within a blink of an eye.

“I apologize, my Goddess, for her rudeness, she is still young and has to learn much.” I bowed my head deeply as I went to stand next to our eldest naiad sister, “I promise to teach her some manners myself, do not punish her just yet, I beg of you—”

“Like you have begged my husband to bed you?” A malicious smile grazed her lips, “Well…bed you, figuratively speaking as you seem to lack of beds in this place, pity, he fucks hardest when he has a headboard to hold onto.”

My jaw clenched as her comment felt like a punch to my ego, tears threatening to prick my eyes as Yeri came to stand next to me, standing just slightly more forward, but when she opened her mouth to speak up, the Goddess beat her to it, “You thought you could fuck my husband and I wouldn’t know? I know everything that happens inside and outside of Olympus, you little minx.”

“Then why does it bother you just now?” I gulped down the fear that bubbled through my system, and looked the Goddess in the eyes as I continued with my question, “Why just now when you’ve known all along what your husband was up to?”

For a second, Aphrodite seemed to freeze, but then slowly, her eyes fell onto the necklace that sat securely around my neck. He’d claimed me, San he had claimed me, meanwhile Aphrodite never quite loved any of his secret lovers to the point that she’d claim them. It hurt her, because it showed San was devoted to me, that he had given me a piece of himself, that he promised of a little particle of his heart that didn’t belong to Aphrodite anymore. Her ego was bruised and she couldn’t deal with the thought of a nymph stealing something that was once hers. She didn’t need to answer the question, her silence spoke volumes like her answer could never.

“Stray clear of my path if you do not wish to turn into foam, little nymph, or perhaps pray to Artemis to keep you safe from Zeus.” My sisters gasped as my lips quivered, dread filling my body at the thought of getting touched by Zeus. Even if a God claims you, Zeus can still do whatever he wants to you. His word and power were grater than any other Gods. I did not wish to come across Zeus, ever, terrified that he’d break me.

And just as quickly as Aphrodite had appeared, the foxes ran through the bushes one more time, a white dove flying over Lake Naia, and then she was gone, her sweet scent carried away by the wind that seemed to bring rain clouds with itself.

            The days and nights passed by sluggishly, almost as if to taunt me, fear rooting deeply into my bones as I preferred to stay underwater most these days, not keen of coming across any deity. Artemis managed to coax me outside and blessed me, promised protection once again, having heard of Aphrodite’s visit, whispering that San has been at war for a month now. Nobody knew anything about him as he just disappeared one night, but they knew he was alive, he’d send scrolls to his father, Zeus, and updated him about the advancement of the war. When the evenings started feeling lonely, despite the presence of my sisters, I felt my little star humming just a little louder for me to hear and burning warmer, warming my chest from the inside out. I found it my only solace as I yearned for my God, but was scared of what would happen if I allowed him close again.

The stars had been long up on the night sky, high up and shining down brightly, almost as if calling out to its kin that now shimmered in the dark around my neck. I continued to gaze up at them, floating on the dark surface of the Lake, crickets creating a serene cacophony as my sisters’ hums have long subsided as they have gone to sleep. I have found myself grow more restless than usual tonight, the stars calling out and coaxing me to stay awake as if to look over our home, protect it from unwelcomed guests. And when the clearing grew eerily quiet and the stench of death invaded my senses, I gasped and submerged, watching as a dark figure approached the water with almost sluggish moves. My body yearned to feel his warm touch and my heart started racing in my chest, but I did not move. I watched, not too far from the shore, as he came to an abrupt stop just before the water could reach his feet, and he gently placed his sword onto the ground.

“My little nymph.” His voice was quiet, tired, and rough sounding. Tears pricked at my eyes but I forced myself to go just a little bit deeper underneath, the star around my neck pulsing ferociously. My body felt on fire from it, but I refused to act upon my desperate wishes, “Y/N, my little star, where are you?”

My lips quivered and I turned, clutching the star desperately as it started calling out faintly, whether for its kin or for the God that had gifted it to me, I couldn’t tell. The swift clinking of steel and its clasp being undone echoed loudly in the silent clearing and the water was suddenly disturbed as I whirled around, eyes growing wide as I watched my God rush inside the water. It colored the water red around himself, more so than usually, and my heart clenched upon noticing the countless bruises decorating his legs and the gash close to his groin. Who dared wound up my San like that?

I felt helpless as my body acted before I could consider my next actions, and I quickly swum closer, lips touching the large gash underwater, eager to heal his perfectly sculpted body. San’s gasp was loud above water, and before I could swim away, large and calloused hands gripped at my shoulders and yanked me above, making me gasp out loudly as water dripped from my hair onto my face. San’s eyes were wide and streaks of tears made his cheeks shine under the starlight, and I gulped, eyebrows furrowed as I helplessly traced his forehead, wiping the excess blood from there and from his temples.

“My little nymph, why would you hide from me?” San sounded breathless as his eyes desperately searched my face, grip growing stronger as it slipped to my arms, “Do you not love me anymore?”

My eyebrows furrowed and my heart squeezed as I pushed at his hard chest, fury licking at my insides all of a sudden, “How dare you doubt my love for you, San?!”

“You refused to show yourself to me,” His voice grew hard, but his dark eyes remained soft, “You weren’t waiting by the Lake for me, you didn’t undress me, you refused to bathe me. You must not love me anymore—”

“I allowed you to claim me!” I hissed, gripping his jaw tightly, his eyes finally hardening as I got closer to him, “I allowed you to claim me with something of yours, and you doubt my love for you after you disappeared without notice?!”

“I must hear your reasoning before I forgive you.” My eyebrows furrowed and I bit my lower lip, Aphrodite’s words echoing in my head. I’d be turned into foam, and then, all the love I harbor for my God will be lost, felt in vain, unfulfilled.

“She will turn me into foam, you have angered her, my possessor.” My voice was merely a whisper, but loud enough in the silent clearing, in the serene Lake. I didn’t have to name her; San knew who I was referring to.

“Once a God claims something as theirs, nobody is allowed to touch it, not even a Goddess out of spite, my little nymph,” San’s tone was strong and confident, carried no room for an argument, “And I, Y/N, I love you with my whole soul and promise to protect you until my last worshipper dies and I perish with them.”

“Then you shall never perish,” I cupped his cheeks, my legs securing around his hips as San’s hand slipped to my back, holding me flushed against himself, “Because I am immortal like yourself, I shall never die and you shall never perish with me.”

A strong emotion that could be only described as adoration crossed San’s features before his eyes closed and his lips pressed against mine, making me cling onto him as our lips moved in a dance that made my heart thunder in my chest, rhythm syncing up with his heartbeat, beating together and for one another. The stars shined perhaps brighter that night as San carried us out onto the rocks, laying me down gently and reassuring me that I would be alright, that as long as he was by my side nothing and no one would hurt me. And his lips sealed the promise as his warm body covered mine, sinking slowly inside me, our souls uniting as my back arched and the star around my neck hummed louder than ever before. San’s each and every single kiss carried a whispered promise as it traveled from my jaw to my neck, nibbling at my collarbones as his thrusts stayed sharp and deep, my fingernails digging deeply into his shoulders, marking him up for everyone to see, for Aphrodite to find tomorrow and rage in her pretty bedroom as she isn’t able to do anything about it.

San’s name left my lips almost in a mantra, almost as if I was praying to a God that answered all my prayers and fulfilled all of my wishes, head thrown back and tears trailing down by cheeks as I saw the stars behind my eyes. San feared no God and he had no fear of breaking me as his thrusts became ruthless, pelvis slamming against mine, making me cry out his name repeatedly, finding anchor in his black messy hair and on the rock I was laid onto, the sounds he made growing louder within seconds as he grew closer to his own release. His hands found purchase on my hips as he threw his head back, losing himself in the feeling of pure bliss and euphoria, glazing up at the stars that never shined brighter than my own eyes.

And with my name undyingly on his lips, I knew if I were cursed to become a star one day, I would do so gladly knowing that he saw stars in my eyes, loved me enough to bring down one for me, cherished me enough to promise a death where we’d flicker away at once.

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[ecoterrorist-katara]

The tragedy of Katara’s parentification

Sokka and Katara were both parentified, and it’s a profoundly life-changing thing for both of them. One of the saddest things in ATLA, though, is how Sokka sort of got to outgrow parentification, but Katara never did.

Sokka’s told to be the man. The provider, the protector. He’s not so good at the former (his hunting failures are a consistent source of comic relief), and he takes failures of the latter very, very hard. He doesn’t manage to save Yue, and that wrecks him. After Yue, he becomes extremely protective of Suki in a way that’s borderline offensive to her. He’s willing to do anything to protect his friends and his family, including something as irresponsible as breaking into the Boiling Rock. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Sokka is the only one of the Gaang who unambiguously kills. The rest of them may technically have clean hands because of cartoon logic, but Combustion Man is very dead, and Sokka is the one who killed him. We don’t know how he feels about it, because the show never goes there, but I have a pet theory that Sokka is so uncharacteristically (remember he was team “leave Zuko to freeze to death”) against Katara confronting Yon Rha in The Southern Raiders because he’s the only who knows what killing feels like and wants to protect Katara from it.

But by the end of the show, Sokka’s in a place where he can start to let go of his need to protect. Objectively, all his friends are unbelievably powerful and can take care of themselves, including his sister and his girlfriend. Suki is the one who saves him in the final battle, representing not only a reversal of his initial cartoonish misogyny, but also demonstrating that he is worthy of protection. And of course, he and his friends saved the world, so there isn’t really an enemy that he has to protect them from anymore. Sokka’s loved ones create the conditions under which his parentified behaviour is no longer necessary. Sokka would still have to take the first step to stop seeing himself as the one who has to lay his life on the line, but at least it’s possible for him.

But not Katara.

Katara had to take on the mom role after their mother was murdered, which meant she was responsible for domestic labour and emotional support. Sokka says in The Runaway that her role was to keep the family together. Unlike protection, that’s always a full time job regardless of the war. We see Katara spending more screen time than anybody cooking, getting food, mending, and generally doing women’s work. We see Katara giving everyone emotional support, including strangers and her enemy. We see Katara putting aside her own discomfort and her own hurt in The Desert because if she falls apart, they all die. Nobody ever showed her that she doesn’t need to be the only one who cooks, or that somebody else can be responsible for the emotional wellbeing of her friends, or that — god forbid — someone else can actually be responsible for her emotional wellbeing.

That’s why I never cared for the Ka/taang argument of “he teaches her to be a kid again!” Putting aside the fact that Katara ends up taking care of Aang a lot more as the series goes on, the whole tragedy of parentification is that you can never again be a child. That part of your childhood, your god-given right, is robbed from you. It is extremely precious and important to still be able to be a kid, but breaking free of parentification is not about seeing yourself as a kid. It’s about breaking free of being responsible for everyone’s feelings and behaviours.

For Katara, that responsibility is not problem of perception, but of reality. Unlike Sokka, who was told and shown that his loved ones are capable of protecting themselves, Katara has zero reason to believe that her loved ones are able to feed and clothe themselves and not fall apart emotionally. Between Toph and Sokka who emphatically don’t want to do this work, it all falls on Katara. Telling a parentified child that they just need to loosen up is akin to telling an overworked mother that she needs to just relax (“happy Mother’s Day! You get a break from chores, which you will catch up on tomorrow because nobody else is doing them”). It doesn’t accomplish anything if nobody creates the circumstances under which it’s possible to let go of responsibilities. A lot of Zutara fans, spanning all the way back to the early days of the fandom, like the “Momtara and Dadko” trope where Zuko also does chores. Why? Because even without the concept and language of parentification, many fans recognized that Katara’s performance of domestic and emotional labour is inequitable and probably very taxing.

Growing out of parentification is about more than just letting go of old expectations: it’s also about finding a new way to value yourself beyond the role you grew up with. I’ve said this before, but it’s very important to acknowledge that just because a kid is parentified doesn’t mean they’re actually good at being a parent. In fact, it’s probably a given that they’re not, because they’re kids performing roles that are developmentally inappropriate! Sokka remains a shit hunter; he becomes a decent fighter but he’s still miles behind his friends. A big part of healing from his parentification is finding another area — strategy, engineering, project management (what else do you call that schedule) — where he actually excels, to which he can dedicate his time and from which he can derive satisfaction and a sense of identity. For Katara, fighting for the oppressed and combat waterbending give her that. Crucially, however, Katara does not stop being a girl when she becomes a warrior. She’s still responsible for domestic and emotional labour. Unlike Sokka, whose protector duties were more or less relieved as the series went on and he found new ways to contribute to the group, Katara continued to perform her old role in addition to her new one (which is depressingly realistic btw, look up feminist theory around the concept of the second shift). Still, it’s important that she found these new ways to value herself and her contributions…

…which disappear in her adult life. Where’s adult Katara fighting for the oppressed? Where’s adult Katara enjoying her status as a master waterbender? Where’s Mighty Katara? Where’s the Painted Lady? Where’s the person who vanquished a whole Fire Lord?

What do we know about adult Katara? She’s no longer a rabblerouser or an ecoterrorist. She did not translate her desire to help the downtrodden into a political role, like being Chief or on the United Republic Council. She’s not known as the best waterbender in the world, only the best healer, even though her combat abilities are what she took the most pride in. Even as a healer, she established no hospitals, trained no widespread acolytes (except Korra, I guess?), and made no known contributions to the field.

What Katara is known for…is being a wife and a mother. The same role she was forced to take on at age 8. One which she performed for the next 80+ years.

[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.

[chosopie]

y/n will slowly grow to love Conqueror Sukana. Just as long as Yuji keeps his title and is happy and safe

PART 3, CONQUERER - RYOMEN SUKUNA

SUMMARY: It has been weeks since the day of your grand wedding. Sukuna agreed to give your brother Yuji his share of power. Ever since then, you have been spending more time with him, soon growing to enjoy his company.

cw: fluff, you and Sukuna becoming softies

: ̗̀➛ part 2

"You will make sure Yuji gets his title. He's my brother, my blood. I will see to it that he will have access to privileges and resources of this kingdom," You sternly ordered, your eyes intensely staring at your husband Sukuna.

"Damn, do you talk a lot, woman. It's only been a couple weeks and you're starting to nag like an old wife," Sukuna groaned.

"My wishes must be fulfilled," you narrowed your eyes at him.

"And what will you do if they aren't, princess?" He arrogantly smiled at you, amusement glinting from his eyes.

"I’m not a princess. I am the queen and I could send you into exile."

Sukuna laughed at you. "How bold of you. You can't do that."

"You forget that my people are loyal to me, the true blood of this kingdom."

"You forget that I single-handedly killed your pathetic man and his army," He looms over you, his chest right in front of your face.

"Only, because I allowed it. I needed someone more capable like you," You admitted, trying to hold together what remained of your pride while commending your husband. When he smirked in response, you instantly regretted letting those words leave your mouth. To your dismay, that surely fed Sukuna's large ego, keeping it full and satisfied.

"That's all you had to say, brat,” He beamed. “You have my word. The little rascal gets what he needs and I'll protect him." Sukuna reaches over your head, ruffling the hair you had just tidied up.

“Hey!” You groaned, your hands patting and combing your hair in an attempt to return it to its previous state. Sukuna and his ego was a handful, but you knew deep down there had to be a soft spot beneath all that pride and cockiness. You were determined to crack that shell and see what’s really in his heart.

When the sun had set, the dinner table had been set up by your handmaidens. There was a large variety of food all over the table. Yuji sat beside you with a big smile on his face and his eyes lovingly staring at the food.

“Yuji, keep staring like that and you might just marry the food,” you snickered.

Yuji gave you an unamused look, “Come on! I’m just hungry. It’s been a while since we’ve had steak.”

“A while?” You quirked an eyebrow up. “We have steak every week.”

“Just let me be hungry!” He whined. “Where’s your husband? I’m gonna starve to death.”

“Your king is here,” Sukuna loudly said from the other side of the room. He wore a big fur coat over his wide figure.

Hearing his loud and obnoxious voice, you roll your eyes, but you were going to test and prod at him tonight. Beneath all those muscles and ego, there has to be something else in there, right? We can’t pretend forever.

“Pass me the salt, hun,” you point towards the small shaker across the table. Sukuna raised his eyebrow, questioning your behavior; nevertheless, he complied with your request.

Yuji stared at the two of you with confusion. What was with the nicknames all of a sudden? Have you been taking something weird? This was not the big sister he knew. Perhaps you’ve gone soft. “As long as she’s happy,” Yuji thought. After having Sukuna around the house for a couple of week, he didn’t seem so bad after all, just a little obnoxious and boastful. He never raised a hand at you nor did he yell at you just because he wasn’t in a good mood. He seemed to care.

When all of you had finished eating, Yuji returned to his quarters while you and Sukuna headed to yours. Sukuna immediately threw himself onto the bed and made himself comfortable under the thick duvet.

“I’m gonna shower,” you told Sukuna. He simply nodded in response.

You stepped into the shower and twisted the small knob, allowing the warm water to rain on your skin. Closing your eyes, you thought about how Sukuna had been ever since he came around. Most of the time, you two would clash over your different ideologies or even the simplest things like food or how you ate the cake he had been waiting all day to eat. Despite all that, he respected you and treated you well. He would buy you dresses and jewelry, making sure you were clad in the prettiest things out there. You let out a sigh in relief as the warm water began to relax your body. You grabbed your most fragrant soap and made sure to scrub yourself clean. Once you were finished, you wiped yourself dry with a towel, then slipped into a pink nightgown that sort of matched his hair.

You walked into the room, Sukuna’s eyes immediately landing on you. “What’re you doing?” You ask while you made your way to the bed to sit beside him.

“Reading,” he mumbled, his eyes now fixed on the small book in hand.

“Is that a history book?” Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Aw, do you care about me and my country that much?”

“Fuck off. I’m reading this so I know how to take advantage of the shit you guys have,” Sukuna huffed in annoyance.

“I love you too, Sukuna,” you tested those words. Those three damn words. They felt foreign in your mouth.

Sukuna tensed up, his face looking stiff as ever. He hesitantly turned to look at you and got up. Now, you were scared. He inched closer and closer to you, his body towering over you as usual. You couldn’t read his expression and it made your nerves jitter. He reached his hand out to hold your head, and you thought he was going to ruffle your hair like he always did, but no. It was something different which shocked you. He pulled your head in and gently kissed you on the forehead.

“I love you,” he softly said.

You looked at him with wide eyes, your cheeks red from the intimate gesture. Was he serious? Your heart was beating so hard you could feel it in your ears. The room suddenly felt hotter than usual. There was a strange warm feeling that swelled in your beating chest. A bold idea crossed your mind, and you let your body move on its own, your arms reaching out to him for an embrace. You slowly snaked your arms around his torso and rested your head in the crook of his neck.

This isn’t so bad. You’ve fallen for him.

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear before pecking his cheek.

[minswriting]

hey hey I saw you're open for requests!

Anything for Hotch getting caught with non-BAU reader who he shouldn't be associated with? Maybe there's an age gap or she's the babysitter or someone's daughter/sister or even an unsub/witness.

Ik its a really broad request but I love your writing so I totally trust you - I just love a semi forbidden ship (without an angsty or sad ending!).

Thanks!!

nsfw | mdni

warnings: talks of murder, stalking, rape (nothing detailed because it’s literally just a summarization thing lol), nsfw content, getting caught, inappropriate relationships, etc.

it all began when you were a victim of a case. you had been getting stalked by an unsub in new york, a man who was killing women that reminded him of the woman that left him. he would stalk his victims before raping and killing them. you had been approached by the fbi, taking you into protective custody to ensure that the same thing didn’t happen to you. and that’s when you met aaron hotchner.

to say the two of you had immediately taken a liking to one another was an understatement. the two of you flirted with each other right off the bat which wasn’t really the best thing to do due to his position. you were a victim, not someone he met randomly at the bar. even so, he just couldn’t get you off of his mind.

so before he left to go back to virginia, aaron had given you his number. and now? well, it’s been a few months and the two of you have been seeing one another regularly like this weekend. you had flown to virginia to visit aaron and stay with him.

the house was quiet as jack had gone to jessica’s to sleepover for the weekend, leaving you and aaron to be alone. the only sounds in the house were the sounds of your moans mixing with the sound of skin slapping together.

“god, you’re so beautiful,” aaron exclaimed as he thrusted his cock inside of you. his brown eyes were looking down directly at your face. your head rested on the pillow, hair sprawled out, cheeks red, and face contorted in pleasure. “you love my cock, don’t you?” he asked as he watched your eyes roll back with each thrust of his cock.

“mhm,” you nodded your head, licking your lips. “i love your cock so much, aaron,” you replied, moaning loudly. “always feels so good.”

aaron rocked his hips, thrusting into you at a pace that felt best for the both of you. his cock hit your sweet spot repeatedly, making you see stars. aaron looked down at your pussy, watching his cock disappear inside of you. your cunt was glistening with arousal. “you’re absolutely soaked,” aaron groaned, bringing a hand to start rubbing your clit.

you simply whined in response, gripping the sheets below you as you felt yourself get near the edge. “i’m so close, aaron,” you moaned, opening your eyes to look at the man in front of you.

“fuck, me too, baby,” he replied.

and just as you felt your peak nearing, there was a “oh no! oh god!” at the door, followed by a small thud, signaling the person had dropped something. “i’m so incredibly sorry, sir, i-uh,” you and aaron both looked at the person at the same time, scrambling to cover yourself up with the blanket.

at the door was a blonde, someone you’ve never met before. “garcia,” aaron’s face hardened as he tried to compose himself, fully covered by the blanket. “what brings you here?”

“i-well, sir,” garcia began, glancing at you and then at aaron. “you hadn’t answered your phone at all in the past three hours and we have a new case so i told the team i’d come here and look for you and well- is that y/n from the new york case?” penelope asked finally as she rambled, looking at you fully.

you looked down at the blanket, being unable to come up with the proper words to speak.

“not that it matters but yes,” aaron exclaimed. “now please, leave. i need to get changed and then i’ll be right there.” and without a second glance, penelope picked up her phone from the ground and left slamming the door closed, leaving you and aaron alone. “i’m so sorry about that,” aaron apologized, looking at you. he grabbed your hand. “i didn’t expect to be needed at all tonight.”

“it’s okay,” you said with a small smile. “duty calls.”

“are you okay?” he asked, checking in on you.

you let out a breathless laugh. “other than being absolutely mortified that your co-worker just walked in on us nailing one another? i’m perfect.” you grinned at your partner.

aaron laughed as well, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it. “yes well, i agree.” he exclaimed. “i should get ready. i’m sorry we won’t be able to spend the weekend together.” he said, looking at you with a look of guilt.

“don’t sweat it, aaron,” you said with a reassuring look. “i can come down next weekend. maybe even spend a week?”

“i’d love that,” he said, pulling you into his arms.

“sounds like a date.”

and with that, aaron kissed your forehead and lips before getting up off the bed and getting himself ready. let’s just say that when next weekend rolled around, you guys definitely made up for lost time.

however, the secret that aaron was seeing you had most certainly had been told to the rest of the team.