#how am i meant to be your mother and your father? how am i meant to be the source of stability in your life when im not stable in mine

[kabuki-writes]

Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia

chapter: 6 chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: The wedding ceremony with Emperor Geta gives you a first glimpse of what you are going to face, once the title 'Empress' crowns you. Meanwhile Caracalla has to deal with the thoughts about his twin owning you now.

warning(s): heavy nsfw & sexual violence | angst | alcohol consumption | drug consumption | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: I am wishing you all a 'Merry Christmas'! Sorry that this chapter took so long, i wanted to finish it faster, but i was ill for quite some time and had no head for writing. No worries though, i am feeling better now! A small reminder: Due to the holidays, the next chapter might take a bit of time.

word count: 3.6k

Gods expected rituals and nothing in Rome was more important, more holy and more strict to certain rules than a wedding - especially the wedding of an Emperor. A whole series of necessaries had to be prepared in advance to this special celebration before the bride and the groom were able to stand in front of the altar. From the preparation of the dowry to the sacrifices made to the gods. It all began with the most formal part: engagement ceremony, where the exchange of promises between the groom and the bride's father hold more significance than the words of the soon-to-be-wed woman. In Roman society, being born a female was still strongly bound to ownership. First the ownership of the father and then the ownership of the husband. And even though rich Roman women had more freedom than others, it was still a life in societal chains.

Now that you sat on the floor to your mother‘s feet, you instantly thought about the eyes of that lamb your family had brought to the temple of Juno as a sacrifice. The innocence in its eyes slaughtered by the dagger of the priest. One Life for another Life - yours. Did Juno have her blessing? How could you know right now.

„Mother…?“, you spoke out as you noticed the shaking hands and the tears in your mother‘s eyes.

She was pale as marble, trying her best to keep her face, but you were well aware of how much it destroyed her and your father to let you go - especially when the arms of your soon-to-be-husband were Emperor Geta. As a daughter, you tried your best to comfort your mother, as much as it hurt you too. Your hands took hers, gently squeezing them, while your eyes found hers. "I shouldn't cry, i know...", she whispered and placed her hand on your cheek through the thin fabric of the flame-coloured veil that covered your face. Your body was clothed in a beautiful white tunica dress, embroidered with golden depictions of different flowers. You were shackled by the amount of jewelry - engagement presents of Emperor Geta for his bride -, expensive golden necklaces and bracelets that should depict the status you will have standing by his side. Although you were no Empress yet, you wore a bridal crown on top of your carefully braided hair. One of woven fragrant herbs and flowers, Rosemary, verbena, marjoram, roses, violets, and lilies, to represent fertility.

"My beautiful daughter, even Venus would envy you now. But i had wished that... that you would not have to marry a man like-"

"Don't", you stopped her, knowing fully well, which name she was about to say and you shook her head. It was meaningless to express any form of sorrow or hatred, even if this wedding was a forced one - a trade for your own life and that of your parents. Terrible or not, it would bring honor to your family and in the end, it would make you Empress. A gift as well as a heavy burden, especially given the man that will be your husband - your Emperor. Geta.

A marriage ceremony always followed specific rules, that were meant to please the gods. A scacrifice in the temples of Juno and Jupiter was mandatory, but soon you'll face another significant part of your wedding. As Romans believed the only bride of value was a virgin who had to be stolen from her family, they simulated the bride being abducted from her family as part of the ceremony. You were able to hear the chants and chattering of the big entourage of guests arriving to you parent's home outside - accompanied by a large amount of Praetorian Guards and the Emperor himself. Usually the large wedding feast and celebration would take place at the bride's family home, but given the significance of an Emperor's wedding and the amount of guests, it was agreed that it would take place in the palace after the procession.

Even if you tried to face it with a stoic mask, your heart pumped against your chest - a mixture of excitement and fear. Your eyes closed for a moment, as you heard the footsteps and voices of the Praetorian soldiers and amongst them Geta's, who was the first to enter the room. You were still facing your mother, holding her hands tight, while tears ran down her face. "I am here to claim my bride", the Emperor called out with a triumphant smile on his face, dressed in a golden, heavy decorated armor and a white groom's toga - a depiction like a god. Unusual for a wedding ceremony, but it was a symbol. A symbol of the power and wealth of the twin's reign, a symbol of his triumph over General Acacius, who had no choice anymore than to give him his most precious belonging - his daughter.

Seeing you there on your knees was a sight we might never forget. Even if your back faced him, he could see your curves under the garment you wore and he immediately thought about the wedding night, which was the highlight in his mind for today. But right now he had to calm himself, as he stepped forward and suddenly took you at the waist to pull you from your crying mother's embrace. "Mother!", you screamed as the groom forced you to go with him, tears dripping down your cheeks under the flame-red veil. The tradition dictated that the bride would cry out in pain to fool the gods of the home that she was taken away, 'stolen' before you would have to walk the procession without the protection of any god until you stepped into the home of the groom.

All of Rome had gathered in the streets to witness the procession of the Emperor's wedding. You stood at his side on a richly decorated chariot carried by two pale-white horses. The big amount of wedding guests accompanied your path by singing the Hymenaeus and carrying a whitehorn torch, a spina alba, to honor the goddess Ceres. Normally you would simply walk to the palace, as it was the core of such a parade, but nothing was normal about an Emperor's wedding and especially not Geta's. He wanted to show-off, he wanted eveyone to know how powerful he was and that he was now marrying the daughter of one of Rome's most successful beloved generals. It was all calculated and everything followed a plan, he viewed as perfect. This union was not only a definite way to get you, it formed an even closer bond between his and his brother's reign and your father's role as a military general. Would he ever betray them again, it will also be a betrayal against you. And another calculated side-effect was the use of Acacius' popularity through a marriage with his daughter.

The masses cheered for you and for the Emperor, they wished you "feliciter" - "good luck" for your marriage, some of them even shouted your name. It felt surreal and you were glad that the veil covered your face, while you bit your tongue. The palace, your new home, on the palatin hill looked even more oppressive than the last time you'd faced it. Your heart was heavy and you could practically feel the stare Geta gave you, but also the one of Caracalla, who followed you two alongside your father and mother as part of the wedding procession. There was something lingering in his eyes, something you didn't notice as you were focused on what lied ahead. Geta leaned towards your ear and whispered.

"Isn't it exciting, my dear...? You will soon be the wife of an Emperor, my wife." He accenturated his last words, almost as if he had to point out that your life center will soon be him and him alone.

"How could i forget. Just as i may never forget the true reason, why i am here. A threat is still a threat", you answered in a low tone, provocative.

But the groom simply chuckled and turned his face towards the cheering masses again, waving to the common folk. He didn't really care about them in any way, but he knew well about the power of such events in the eyes of the plebs. And to accompany this wedding, he'd already ordered games in the collosseum and many festivities around Rome in honor of his special day.

"Let me tell you that i rather enjoy those little outbursts of hatred. I will ask you again, once you enjoy all the privileges an Empress has. I can be a generous man, as long as you're not testing my patience. For now, i simply expect you to smile and show those peasants the beauty of their beloved general's daughter. Let them see that the sun is shining upon them in the presence of Venus."

Words like honey and yet they tasted bitter to you, while his hand was locked on your back, not only to stabilize you on the chariot, but also holding you tightly against his own body. You belonged to him now and he wanted everyone to see that.

_______________________________

“Ubi tu Gaia, Ego Gaius.”

“Ubi tu Gaius, Ego Gaia.”

The words still rang in your head, again and again, even as the music and the chattering of the feast surrounded you. And you still felt the kiss of Geta's lips on yours, even if it was only the beginning. You were considered married now.

Fire and Water. The symbol of life. The moment you stood at the main door of the palace, a matron of honor hold a candle and a bowl of water, as both you and Geta traced your hands over it. He was able to lift your veil at that point, kiss you and carry you over the doorstep - it was that simple in the end. And it had sealed your life forever.

It was necessary and yet the kiss was longer than it should've been as it was the first symbolic union of groom and bride in front of the wedding guests, who cheered and honored them with chanter and congratulations. And even though it was just a kiss on the lips, nothing more, you could practically sense the hunger of Geta, the hunger for more. Of course it had to wait until he got you in his bed the first time, but this would soon become a reality and you didn't know if you were ready for it.

The music and the voices of the people were still a numb background sound as your eyes glanced over the room, while you were sitting right next to your now husband on a lectus, receiving one personal congratulation after another. The palace was richly decorated, even more than the last time you were here for the victory celebrations of your father. Hordes of servants ran around to assure that all the guests had enough of the expensive wine and expansive food, luxuriously presented on a long table with tons of fruits, vegetables, fish as well as expensive, rare meat such as ostrich, peacock and wild deer.

Roman generals, politicians, rich merchants, every patrician from Rome’s upper class had gathered here to celebrate the union between Emperor Geta and his new wife. The wedding gifts ranging from gold, jewelry and silk to exotic animals were piling up in another room, as servants had to walk in and out, every time another guest paid his respect. You gave them your smile and your words of thanks and yet none of it really reached your eyes, as you were still trying to cope with the fact that they now adressed you as 'Empress'. Your eyes went to your parents, which were part of the guests, who participated in the feast and celebrations. But you could clearly see the pain in your father's eyes and the pale face of your mother, who could barely eat something even though she tried to hide her sorrows behind her rehearsed mask of charm and politeness. Their eyes find yours in certain moments and it hurt you the most to see them like this as you knew very well, that your father gave himself the blame for your current situation. But you had already moved on, as it made no sense to cry about the past in any way.

But you were pulled from your thoughts, when it was Emperor Caracalla, who stepped forward to pay his respect to the new wed couple. The twin of Geta with the golden laurel wreath crown on his head was dressed in an ornate that depicted his wealth, expensive embroidered silk in dark blue and purple colors, a stark contrast to his gingerblonde, wild hair. Even though he smiled, you could see that it was a forced one, a bitter smile, hiding his true thoughts. "Brother, i congratulate you and your beautiful wife on your wedding. May the gods bless this union," he spoke out, while Geta already stood up and you followed him.

"Your words mean the most to me, Caracalla. Thank you," his twin answered with a happy smile as he took him into his arms and hugged him tight.

Even though Geta came off as a crual human being sometimes, it was undeniable that he hold nothing but a strong brotherly love for his twin, despite them sharing the power. After Geta, Carcalla turned to you and placed his hands on your cheeks.

"I welcome you to the family," he whispered, before he placed one kiss on each side of your cheek.

It was not an uncommon gesture to do so, especially not as a way to welcome someone in a new household - but Geta's eyes were locked on you two as his brother did so. And you were very aware that something was off in this very moment, as you could feel the slightly trembling fingers of Caracalla on your skin, as if he had to hold himself back. He quickly stepped back, staring into your eyes, while a servant rushed to him, giving the Emperor a small wooden box, carved with all sorts of flowers.

"I thought, ... since you'e now the new Empress of Rome, the only present worth your grace would be a crown that truly underlines your beauty," Caracalla explained and opened the box.

In it was a golden half-round Roman-styled tiara with ornamental decorations, well-crafted with every little detail that catched your eyes. It was stunning, even given all the expensive jewelry with which Geta had hung you, it was still breathtaking. A soft smile appeared on your lips, before you spoke your words.

"This is a wonderful and very generous gift, my Emperor. I thank you dearly". Caracalla's lips shuddered, before he forced an almost innocent smile on them too.

"This tiara is made after my personal request. The artist was assigned to model it after the crown that Empress Poppea wore once. The wife of Emperor Nero. I thought you might like the... historical connotation to it".

Your face grew pale, while you tried your best to keep your smile in place. Geta didn't seemed to realize what his brother meant with that - but you did. You instantly remembered the conversation you had with him at the amphitheater, you remembered the way he looked at you, the desire in his eyes, that was still present in this very moment. And even though his brother did not understand the true meaning behind Caracalla's gift, he did sense the tension that lingered in the air.

"Thank you, brother", he instantly cut the air with his voice, his hands softly taking the tiara out of the box before you could do anything.

Geta positioned himself between you and Caracalla, a very clear symbol that even if he tolerated his brother in your presence and might even be willing to allow him much more freedom than a husband would, it was still Geta, who called you his wife now. You were his. So it was him, who placed the tiara onto your head, where it perfectly fit with the half-bridal hairstyle you wore. His eyes lingered on your face for a moment, before his fingers touched your skin as he pushed one of your straints of hair back in place before leaning down to your ear.

"Just a little more time and then I'll have you all to myself", he whispered, before he turned to his seat again.

There was only one step for this marriage to be fully recognized in the eyes of the gods and it was the wedding night - Geta's prize, which he longed for and Caracalla's hell. The reminder he will not be the first to have you, but his twin.

_______________________________

"Say it! SAY THAT YOU LOVE ME!", he hissed over and over again, pounding harder with each word.

His fingers pressed against the neck of a concubine, while his golden rings tightly pinched into the soft flesh. She wore quite a similar attire than you did today, her hair styled like yours, her face at least reminding Caracalla of you. But that concubine was nothing like you, a dull replacement, a vessel the Emperor needed to get the heat and anger off his mind as he fucked her senseless under the eyes of his entourage of male and female slaves. No one said a word, fear was written in their eyes, because they knew it was one of their owners 'outbursts'. They could see how the young woman tried desperately to get a catch of air, while Caracalla strangled her in his psychotic state, tears running down his cheeks as he did so. Instead of his brother it should've been him to marry you, to fuck you, to love you like you deserved. A goddess amongst the common humans, a Venus. He was Nero and you were his Poppea. At least here in his own chambers, he could play out this fantasy, while the wedding celebration still went on and you were probably on your way to the chambers of his damned twin brother Geta. It needed a lot of sex and a cocktail of ancient drugs to numb his thoughts over this injustice.

"I love you-..., my Emperor", the young woman under him moaned with all the strength that she could find in a situation like that, the fear of losing her life all written on her face.

But those words were the ones Caracalla needed to hear. With a couple of heavy thrusts, he came inside of her, spilling his semen into that concubine like he would've done with you - if he just had the chance. His eyes were still shimmering wet with his tears, while he pulled back, catching his breath for himself in this moment. The young woman layed on the mattress in front of him, still alive, but in a state of bliss and shock, her eyes wet in tears as well. She wasn't able to say something, and even if so, she were not allowed to do anyways. Caracalla's ice-blue eyes stared cold at her naked body, freezing in the moment as he tried to still pretend to himself that it was you laying in front of him. But it wasn't you and it hit his mind now. This woman was just another whore he tried so desperately to numb his thoughts with. Yet the voices in his head grew louder and louder. "Get her out of my sight!", the Emperor ordered.

"I don't want to see this girl ever again. She is nothing compared to her - throw her away, i cannot stand this waste any longer!", he screamed with a hoarse voice, still sobbing.

"Where is Dondus!?"

No one dared to speak up in a situation like that, no one even dared to look at Caracalla. Everything that might anger the young Emperor could end in an immediate death right now. Even the slave that always carried his pet monkey around, simply rushed to the Emperor and handed him over Dondus in silence, before retreating as fast as possible.

"Oh Dondus, all of this is so unfair. Every time i desire something, he has to take it from me. Nothing truly belongs to me and me alone... it is alwas us", he mumbled with a shake in his voice, while he carefully took his monkey and placed him on a pillow as if it was his child.

Caracalla never treated anyone as careful and caring as he treated his pet monkey. In fact, he could be quite cruel, depending on his mood that changed rapidly between weird happiness and irrational anger. This little animal had more importance to him than any human life - well, except for yours of course. And everyone here knew this. The Emperor would never hurt Dondus, but it only took one outburst of hate for a slave or even a patrician to lose their head in an instant.

"I want her, my Poppea ... i cannot stand the thought of not having her...i cannot. I love you her you understand this, Dondus, don't you? No one understands me the way you do. She is an incarnation of Venus."

But Dondus just looked at him with his dark button eyes - how could a monkey understand love? And how could he understand, how much it pain it left in Caracalla.

____________________________

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[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 28

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Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: Face The Raven

Notes: /

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  28/47

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You stopped fighting, your body came to an abrupt halt and it made him move his hand away from your mouth. In the darkness you could not see his eyes past the gap in the helmet he wore, but he stood so close that your nostrils vaguely caught his scent. That awful plant’s effect had also been weakening your heightened sense of smell. “Lancelot?”

Those candle holders proved to be an enemy to him when they stood between you and him. The sight of one in your hands made his head hurt at the memory.

He nodded, his hold on you changed drastically, he cupped your cheek and rubbed your arm. “Are you hurt?”

“You’re alive…” Seeing him alive and well had a strong reaction in you, you threw yourself into him, embracing him with all your might. First you felt him tense up, but he quickly relaxed and brought his arms around you to reciprocate.

He knew he should make haste before they found the dead guard down in the dungeons. But this… was hard to deny himself of.

It felt so serene to hold him in the dark, to feel his chest move with each breath he took, if only it had been in a different location.

“I’m so happy to see you.” you murmured against his shoulder.

Slowly he began to loosen his hold. “I feared the worst…”

So many scenarios had run through his head whilst searching for you. He feared Aldith had taken you to the paladins, or worse, Abbot Wicklow.

“Please, Lancelot, don’t let go of me yet.” Your hold on him got tighter, you didn’t care that it would betray how vulnerable you felt in that moment.

His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, what you had said must have meant more to him than you had expected. That light scratching at your scalp of his fingers was ridiculously comforting, it was such a good feeling especially when he included the back of your neck.

You forced your wandering thoughts back together. “They have Percival, they’ve been keeping him locked inside the dungeons. If I didn’t obey Lord Leoric, he said he’d hurt him.”

“He is safe.” he hushed. “Percival has never set foot in this castle.”

You leaned back to look at him, ignoring the urge to rip that helmet from his head. “What-… he was never really here?”

Lancelot shook his head, understanding why they had wanted you to believe this. “He was with me. Currently he is waiting for us outside.”

“They lied to make me obedient.” you scoffed bitterly. “But I am glad that it was a lie. Unfortunately they used that lie to make me drink some of that plant’s sap that they used on me before.”

“What?” he grew gravely concerned, just days ago it had nearly killed you. “Are you ill? What is it doing to you?”

“It’s to make me too tired to use my magic.” you explained. “My father learned about my ability to create fire, but I don’t think they know just what that green fire truly is.”

“He is here?” he asked, “Aldith is here?”

It was a sickening thought that you were in the same building Aldith was in. “Yes. Ravenwick is no longer safe. After your indiscretion towards the Church, the Trinity Guard went to Ravenwick, no doubt to see if we would show up there.”

“My ‘indiscretion’?” He was smiling under that helmet.

Hearing that slightly playful tone was like a salve to your mind. “You know, that time you humiliated the Trinity Guard in front of Abbot Wicklow.”

He nodded a few times, chuckling warmly, then pointed at one of the chairs. “I found your clothes by your scent, they are over there. I believe they will be more comfortable to ride in than that dress.”

You were sure glad to hear that. They had found and taken your clothes away even though you had hid them. And a dress was not very handy if it would come to battle, you didn’t want to trip over the fabric of it. “How did you even find me?”

He sounded like it was such a normal thing to remember a small detail like that after so long. “You told me once that Aldith knew someone here in Morrowstead who was interested in you, I simply sought out the wealthiest person here.”

It left you near speechless. “You remember that?”

He nodded, then steered you by the arm towards where the clothes were. “We should leave. Percival is waiting by the horses in the forest. Go and dress yourself.”

That was a risky thing. “They could find him!”

“He’s not alone.” he said. “Fear not. The boy is safe.”

Who was with him…? “Not alone?”

The sound of footsteps approaching the door made your heart jump into your throat. “Dammit. You need to hide!” You quickly grabbed the stack of clothes, pushing them into his hands, then took him by the arm and rushed him towards the bathing area behind the curtain, whispering, “Don’t come out until he’s gone.”

That curtain was only just closed behind him when the door opened and Lord Leoric walked in, looking a bit surprised to see you there.

“Still awake?” he questioned out loud and placed the candelabra he carried on the table. “That spares me the trouble of waking you. Come here.”

You feared what would happen if Lancelot was found, this place had to house many guards and no one could fight off such a large group of them if they were to attack, not for long at least.

Lord Leoric watched you approach and made you halt when you were halfway there. “Did you bathe tonight?”

That answer came fast. “Yes.”

“Good.” he said, getting closer. “I could not sleep. My study keeps me awake. I came to find answers to some of the questions I have yet to solve.”

Gods… what did he want now? More Fey Fire? Or were you going to have to drink more of that plant’s sap?

He stopped a few steps away. “I see no Fey marks on your face, while the Weeping Monk apparently had ones beneath his eyes. How come you do not have them?”

Your back was facing the direction of the bathing area, and you could only hope that Lancelot was staying hidden. “Mine are different. They are hidden.”

“Hidden where?” he asked.

You dragged a finger from beneath your eye and over your cheek. “Here. Sometimes they show themselves. But I have no control over it.”

You considered it unwise to give him too many details about the Ash Folk. An Ash tree was one of the things that would certainly cause your markings to appear. Why? you did not know. And you certainly didn’t want to be experimented on to find out.

Lord Leoric hummed pensively. “Are there other places where they would show?”

“No.” It made you wary.

“I should not trust you to speak the truth. You would lie to spare yourself.” He crossed his arms. “Take off the dress and then turn slowly. I want to see if what you say is true. You can dress again once you have done that.”

There was absolutely no way that you were going to oblige, and he couldn’t use Percival to blackmail you to do it. “No.”

The reaction was expected, but he was displeased nonetheless. He grew agitated quickly. “Must I call upon my guards to help you?”

Something dropped to the floor with a loud metal sound in the bathing area and caused you to jump a little. Your reaction to the noise may have been what made Lord Leoric not view you with suspicion. The Hidden’s whispers warned you of the storm about to break loose from behind the curtain. And in that moment, you were counting on it. This sadistic bastard asking you to undress was the last straw. Study or not, this was madness.

“Go and sit on the bed.” Lord Leoric commanded as he drew his sword. “Do not move from there!”

You walked to the bed as he approached the bathing area and sat down, with patience and odd curiosity you watched him move the curtain a little and step behind it. Somehow you weren’t worried, not even when more sounds of falling items reached your ears. That Lord was not a good swordsman, he held his sword wrong, you knew because Lancelot had told you many times when you did it yourself. The bathing area grew eerily silent and only then did you feel how your heart went a little faster. The curtain opened and Lancelot stepped out, taking off the helmet and putting it down on the dresser. Even as he stood in the shadows you could see that his hands were unsteady. You rose to your feet, it was all your legs managed at the sight.

He tapped the top of the helmet with his finger once, fixing his eyes on it. “That shard was meant for him, was it not?”

“It was.”

“Good.”

Slowly you approached him, feeling the adrenaline radiate off of him. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” He turned his eyes to you. “Did he behave this way towards you before?”

You knew what he was worried for. “I’m quite certain that he was only interested in studying me. But he went to cruel measures to do so. He even made me bathe constantly, like I was drenched in something vile. Like he wanted me to be just perfect for him.”

“The only one bathing now is him, in his blood.” He deadpanned, not caring if the jest was inappropriate. That bastard had been inappropriate too.

Hearing him speak of the dead in such a way was not what you expected, your mouth was a little agape. “Lancelot.”

He bit his lip for a second, but knew you did not expect for him to feel regret for saying it. “I will not pretend to have respect for a dead man who locked you away in here. I have been here for hours, I have heard the guards speak, I know he was trying to learn all about our clan through you.”

Seeing him so protective, and knowing he went through the trouble of even coming here to help, had made your heart wrap him inside of it warmly again. As he continued to quietly utter his dismay over what he had heard about your treatment there, you reached out and took hold of his hand, cradling it inside your own. He fell silent mid-sentence, his hand was completely still.

“Are you certain you are well?” he asked, worried by the gesture.

“I am now.” Your eyes met his. “I was just thinking how grateful I am to know someone like you. Not many would do all that you have done for me. I am a little overwhelmed by that knowledge.”

He felt his heart increase it’s pace. Drawing air into his lungs felt suddenly quite a task. This was not the time to let himself be distracted and risk making a mistake.

His free hand closed what was the entanglement of your hands together. “Even if you were not my wife, even if you still hated me, I would still do it all for you.”

“I know.” Even to you, it was freeing to admit it.

His voice was somewhat unsteady. “We need to leave. I have found a path we can take. One moment, I will fetch your clothes.”

He went to get the clothes and handed them to you. You would have went to the bathing area behind the curtain to change clothes, but…

“Could you… uhm…” You made a circling motion with your index finger.

He immediately turned around and took some steps further into the room to give you the space and privacy. You changed into your clothes quickly, then grabbed your boots from where they stood at the end of the bed.

After you were done, you approached his side. “Back in my ‘filthy’ clothes.”

He frowned. “They are not filthy.”

You could not resist. “Did you sniff them to be sure?”

He had walked right into that one and rolled his eyes a little, shaking his head at the blatant attempt to get under his skin. “No.”

Why had that sounded like a lie?

“Ready?” he asked.

You nodded and allowed him seize your hand to guide you along. He picked up the satchel from the bed and handed it over, giving you a moment to put it on.

And so began the journey through the castle together, his more advanced sense of smell worked to his benefit. He was so calm and calculated, so certain of what he was doing. You trusted him effortlessly because of it. He only let go of your hand when it was necessary, then blindly fished around for it again until he found it. Just once did you mess with him a little by moving your hand just out of his reach when he was blindly fishing for it with his, near instantly he turned his head to look at you, worried until he saw the little grin on your face. Your hand was caught by him in a demanding way after that and it took everything not to laugh at his response. It was clear to see that he was once responsible for protecting Father Carden, he knew where to stand and how to walk in a way that shielded you the most from the threats of potential danger.

Almost did you come into sight of some guard patrolling, but he was quick to move you into the shadows again. The guard had noticed a shadow moving on the ground and drew his sword, he called out a name that you assumed belonged to one of the other guards. Lancelot moved his arm, maneuvering you to stand back and against the wall behind him. If he drew his sword, the guard would hear. He reacted when the guard came to pass the corner you both were hiding behind. Lancelot immediately tried to disarm the guard, but the man was build much broader than he was and managed to slam him with his back into the wall. Lancelot sank to the floor down to one knee, he was disoriented.

You weren’t going to stay in the shadows and sprung to action. The guard was broad, but that didn’t stop you from coming up behind him and grabbing hold of his helmet to yank him back with it. He angrily stumbled backwards until the helmet came loose and in a spur of the moment you struck him in the face with it. The guard bled from his nose but it was not enough to knock him down. There, on one of those fancy low pillars, stood a candelabra. You grabbed it and used every bit of your strength, that the plant still allowed, to hit the guard over the head with it. The force of the blow had even you stumbling to the side, the guard fell to the ground with a loud thud, he was not getting back up any time soon after that. You hurried over to Lancelot who had tried to stand but sank back down again.

You rubbed his back and realized that the scars must have been hurting after he hit the wall with his back. “Lancelot, are you alright?”

He winced a little, taking a few deep breaths. “Just a moment.”

When he sat upright a little more, stretching his back, you cupped the side of his neck, it instantly made him fix his attention on you.

Worry flooded your eyes. “Do they hurt?”

He knew what you had meant. “It will pass.”

You let your hand slip down to rest on his chest while he took a brief moment to recover.

His eyes fell on the candelabra, then back on you. “Thank you.”

You withdrew your hand. “I wasn’t going to let that bastard murder you.”

His features softened, a gentle smile played on his lips. He rose from the ground and collected your hand in his own, then started to walk with you through the castle again, resuming the path to freedom.

“We are almost there,” he whispered.

And then a bell rang through the castle, followed shortly by more of them. They must have found Lord Leoric and sounded the alarms. Lancelot walked faster, leading you hallway to hallway until you reached a door that was easily overlooked if one did not know it was there.

He had to duck to pass through the doorway and after you did so as well, he made certain that the door was closed. A narrow stairwell led down into the catacombs beneath the castle, it was unnerving to be there but the Ash Man paid no mind to those long dead. A set of very dusty old stone steps led up to a trapdoor, it’s lock had been forced open by him earlier. You followed him closely up the steps at his request because he feared someone might come and steal you away from under his eyes again. The moonlight that met your face held the place under a mystical glow. He supported you by the elbow as you stepped out from the trapdoor and unto the grass.

“We need to make haste.” He looked in the direction from where the bells sounded.

With that, you agreed. Together you hurried towards the forest, it was necessary to get out of the open grass field fast, those keeping watch on the castle’s walls could detect two people rushing towards the woods at any time. The sound of galloping horses was heard just as you reached the trees. Lancelot came to a sudden stop and pulled you with him into the narrow open space of a rock formation that was overgrown by moss and ivy.

“We are close. But I believe the guards saw us heading here.” he whispered in a nervous manner. “We wait here for a moment.”

Just as he had spoken you could hear horses slow down behind the rock formation. Lancelot’s hand went to the pommel of his sword, his other took hold of your lower arm, but his eyes were fixed on where the enemy could appear from. The tension of being caught had you breathing shakily, if they found you here… after that… Aldith…

Lancelot turned his head to face you upon feeling the tremble in your arm, his hold on it changed to a comforting one. He spoke with his eyes in that second, telling you that it was alright, you managed a small smile that lasted only a blink. He listened intently to his surroundings, and then the horses galloped away again. A breath of relief was released by you.

“Come.” He gave a soft tap against your arm with his fingers, urging you to follow.

The small stop in the running had given you some time to catch your breath and now you walked through the forest at just a slightly rushed pace. The walk did not last long anymore and after a few minutes Lancelot came to a halt at another rock formation. He took off the plated piece of armor that had been part of his disguise and discarded it.

“Born in the dawn?” he spoke in a normal tone.

Percival darted out from behind the rocks, saw Lancelot, saw you, and a blink of an eye later the boy was embracing you. “You’re alive!”

You knelt down to his height and reciprocated the warm welcome. “It’s so good to see you. I was so worried about you.”

The view behind Percival caught your attention, a man dressed in armor came from behind the rocks, holding the reins of Goliath and two other horses. Percival stepped back and saw you look at the man.

“Lancelot? Who…” you looked at him to see how he reacted to this man’s presence.

“He’s the Green Knight!” Percival announced with a hint of pride. “He’s my friend.”

Lancelot walked over to the knight. “Lord Leoric is dead. Her father is here and I believe he forms a threat. There are guards scouring the woods for us.”

“Then we should leave before they find us.” the knight said, handing the reins to Lancelot. The man approached you and introduced himself to you formally. “The name is ‘Gawain’. You must be y/n, friend of Percival?”

You watched him give a polite inclination of the head. “I-… yes. I’m y/n. I’m sorry, but I thought the Green Knight was captured and killed by the paladins.”

Gawain could hear the confusion in your voice. “I was.” He looked down. “A dear friend of mine gave me a second chance at life, one I will not waste. But that is a story for another time, because we do not have time right now.”

From the corner of your eyes, you could see how Lancelot seemed to be rather relieved that this man was here, as if he had already formed a strange bond of trust with him. It greatly confused you how this knight, Gawain, did not seem to have ill intent towards Lancelot. You could tell that Gawain was Fey, Sky Folk by the scent of him if you really focused. And somehow you got the feeling that he looked a bit familiar, but you couldn’t recall ever even meeting him before.

“Percival, ride with me now.” Gawain beckoned for the boy.

Percival walked over to him but he did not reach the knight, an arrow flew just passed his head and the next moment Lancelot had grabbed him, shielding him from the threat with his body. There was barely a second to react when another arrow planted itself into a tree just beside you.

“We are under attack!” Gawain shouted.

All began to try and run from the direction the arrows were coming from, moving between the rocks to reach a more densely grown part of the forest. That chance was taken from you when the face of the one who had been a part of those abducting you appeared in front of Lancelot and Percival, bow in hand and aiming right at them. Percival had ran a bit up ahead of Lancelot.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you.” Kazamir mocked them, then looked at you and Gawain. “That goes for you as well. Move and an arrow goes through that boy’s skull.”

Lancelot and Gawain were examining the situation, but their plan to defend themselves evaporated when they saw that others were walking up to Kazamir. Aldith walked into sight, along with some of his men that you recognized from Ravenwick. Lancelot was visibly trying to resist the urge to grab hold of Percival and get him out of harm’s way, but Kazamir was clearly hoping he would do so, it would be the reason to send an arrow through him. All four of you were kept under the threat of an arrow being send through you, bows and arrows where being aimed at all.

Aldith looked towards Kazamir, fury blazing in his eyes. “I thought you said the Weeping Monk was dead, Kazamir!” He noticed how the sellsword was trying not to look at him. “You were going to sell him to Lord Leoric behind my back, were you not?!”

Kazamir gave up on pretending. “I am a sellsword, Aldith. You of all people must understand that coin speaks loud. And Lord Leoric would have given me more coin than you could.”

“And now?” Aldith demanded to know.

Kazamir held no shame. “Lord Leoric is dead. Your offer is highest again.”

You were not surprised in the slightest. Aldith was no saint and neither were the people who he chose to surround himself with.

Aldith gave Kazamir a nod and got closer in your direction, sword in hand, your sword. He commanded one of his men, “Grab her,”

The sellsword grinned at Gawain as he walked past him to reach you. You saw Lancelot take one step when the sellsword roughly grabbed you by your arm and twisted it behind your back, a sword was held to your throat.

“If he moves again. Kill him.” Aldith had seen the Ash Man’s reaction and spoke to him, “I would say you did me a favor by killing Lord Leoric, now I can sell her off a second time. You however, are too much of a risk to be left alive.”

Percival had a murderous glare, much like the ones Gawain and Lancelot had. The sellsword returned with you to Aldith, and you couldn’t bear to look at Lancelot or the others, knowing what they may witness from your father’s behavior.

Aldith moved past his men to reach you. “After all these years, you should know by now that you cannot run or hide from me. Did I not teach you this?”

You forced your eyes away from him and to the grass beside him, a response he did not like and it made him grab you by the chin. He held the point of your own sword against your throat.

“You will choose in what order they die.” Aldith found joy in his sadistic ways. “Name the first.”

You spat in his face, not caring about the retaliation that would surely follow from him. And indeed his favorite retaliation towards you came in the form of a hard slap across your face that send you straight to the cold damp ground. The taste of blood filled your mouth and you spitted it out, your teeth had broken the skin inside your cheek. Aldith reached down to pull you back to your feet, undoubtedly to just send you back to the ground again.

His hand never got close enough.

An intensely bright green fire erupted from all around. Had the plant’s sap worn out? No… no this couldn’t have been your doing. This fire was brighter, stronger and more ruthless than it had ever been. The Hidden let their presence be known and it seemed even those of Manblood heard them now. Chills ran over your spine, your markings rose to the surface of your skin. Chaos erupted, steel collided with steel.

Percival ran over to you, shaking your shoulder, and helped you up from the ground. “Get up!”

The flames were everywhere, two of the sellswords were rolling over the grass in agony to extinguish the flames who only engulfed them more violently. It was hard to see who was where, and even Percival had not let go of your hand as he struggled to see through the bright flames that contrasted against the darkness of the night.

And then you saw Lancelot, fear slammed into your heart at the sight of him in a viscous fight against Aldith. His markings were glowing a deep fiery crimson beneath his eyes. Percival saw it too, then spotted Gawain fighting two of the remaining sellswords. What neither of you saw was Kazamir approaching fast, you barely had enough time to avoid being grabbed. And as if it was instinct, you pushed Percival out of harm’s way. Kazamir lunged at you, aiming to hit you just as Aldith had done but you evaded it. Suddenly he sank to the ground, yelling in agony. Percival stood behind him, the small knife in his hand was bloodied from stabbing Kazamir in the buttocks. You reached for the knife, Percival already anticipated it and handed it over quickly.

You send that knife deep into Kazamir’s eye and swore to remember getting Percival a new one instead. “That’s for murdering Amelia, you scum!”

Kazamir fell face first into the grass and you ignored the sick feeling it caused in your stomach. Percival was looking at you with wide eyes, you on the other hand were looking where Lancelot and Gawain were. Gawain was fighting the last sellsword standing. Lancelot was still in combat with Aldith. Through the Hidden’s whispers you could sense his rage, the uncontrollable fury that was causing him to be reckless and unfocused. They were warning you of the danger that the Ash Man refused to acknowledge.

You picked up Kazamir’s sword and handed it to Percival. “Stay here!”

Percival nodded, then looked rather impressed with the blade he had been handed, it had been quite some time since he had held a sword.

Aldith was taking advantage of the blinding rage Lancelot was in, he even laughed as he parried the attacks. Aldith drew a dagger as he locked crossguards with him, your dagger. You foresaw what he intended to do and grabbed Aldith’s arm, preventing him from sinking the dagger into Lancelot. Lancelot was quick to steal the sword from Aldith’s grasp and discarded it to the side. Aldith tried to grab you, to use you as a shield, but that attempt received a gruesome reaction. A bone cracking sound sounded as Lancelot twisted Aldith’s arm and then dragged him away from you by the limp hanging limb. Lancelot threw Aldith to the ground and took one step back, trying to regain control over the storm raging inside of him. Two seconds passed and he kicked Aldith back to the ground when he tried to get up. He briefly looked at Gawain to see if the knight needed aid, but Gawain was just pulling his sword out of the sellsword’s guts.

“Lancelot.” You stepped to his side, holding up a hand to make him halt. His eyes were so dark and intense that you feared he would not listen.

Instead his eyes fixed on your face right away, before you could say a word to calm him and make him regain control over his anger, he reached out and cupped the side of your neck. His markings returned to their ashen-like state.

He was trying to see the damage that Aldith had done to your face. “I am sorry.”

He swore to protect you against him, that Aldith would never lay a hand on you again, and he had failed.

You were trying to understand what on earth he was apologizing for.

Aldith scoffed, mocking him as he tried to get up from the ground. “Pathetic fool.”

Percival pointed the sword to Aldith’s nose, Gawain proudly stood beside him and kept a watchful eye on it.

“Aim at his eyes, boy.” Gawain encouraged and saw Percival follow the given advice. “Good lad.”

You took Lancelot’s hand from your neck. “I need your sword.”

Lancelot did not react, not knowing why you were making that request. You reached for it and took it from his hand, slightly surprised by how he did not prevent it. Aldith watched you get closer to him, the sword restless in your hand. You hated how your hands were unsteady, it shouldn’t have been so hard to do what had to be done.

Aldith saw the doubt in your eyes. “First you kill Cassian, your own brother, and now me?”

Gawain tugged at Percival’s jacket, moving him out of the way. Lancelot did not take his eyes off of the threat on the ground for even one second now.

“You sold me. You sold me.” you gritted out, tears burning in your eyes. “After everything I did for you and Cassian, after all I suffered through at your hands, you sold me! You hounded me through the lands when you could no longer lay claim on me and you’ll try to do it all again and again.”

“You owe me a debt!” Aldith spat out. “My son is dead because of you!”

You refused to let him put the blame on you again. “He would have been alive if he didn’t treat me like I was cattle to sell!”

“You are nothing more than cattle to sell with that filthy blood inside of you!” he shouted back.

Lancelot took a step forward, you stopped him by holding a hand in his path. This was not his duty or responsibility, this was you taking back the control over your life that had been stolen from you.

Your grip on the sword tightened. “I am Fey. I am Fey! I won’t hide my nature any longer. My mother was of the Ash Folk, her blood runs through my veins, and I’m proud it does!”

Aldith began to get up from the ground, Gawain wanted to stop him but you gestured for him not to do so, he had no weapons in reach anymore. “Your mother was weak, just as you are!”

Inside you had shut down any form of bond there may have been to this monster. All you could see was the threat he posed, to you, to those close to you and to all the Feys unfortunate enough to cross his path. He was the darkness suffocating the light out of you, leaving you in ruins over and over again, haunting your dreams and poisoning your days.

“Enough of this.” you adjusted your hold on the sword. “If you reunite with Cassian in the burning pits of hell, tell him I hope he burns as well as your sellswords just did.”

The cold comment took even Percival by surprise, the boy looked at you impressed and approvingly. Lancelot’s eyes were different now, his gaze swiftly moved over you.

“You!-” Aldith moved fast.

But the steel in your hands was quicker, it was just as you had imagined it happening. With one swift swing of the sword, the edge of the blade cut through Aldith’s throat. Aldith stumbled to the side in shock, his hand flew to his throat, he tried to speak but all words drowned in his blood. He stumbled all the way to a tree and leaned against it for support until his legs gave out under him. His body shocked a few times, then he was completely still. Lancelot was looking at it happening, processing how quick that had just all played out before him, as were Gawain and Percival. You walked over to Aldith, breaking your wrist free from Lancelot’s hand as he tried to prevent it. Aldith laid facing away from you and you walked around him to see his lifeless eyes. You need to see them, to know that it was truly over, that fleeing from him was over.

“It’s over.” you quietly spoke, hearing how monotone your voice was.

Lancelot had picked the sword, that had been stolen from you, up from the ground and walked over to you with it. It was Gawain who found the dagger that had been dropped to the ground in the chaos of the fight, he gave it to Lancelot who brought both weapons over to you.

“It is over.” he agreed, offering you the weapons.

With unexpected steady hands you took them, handed him back his sword, and returned your own sword and dagger to the belt at your waist where they belonged. The flames had almost completely extinguished, another proof that they lived only at their creator’s will. You were quiet when stepping away from Aldith’s corpse and going into the direction of the horses more.

Gawain was the first who dared to ask, “Are you alright?”

“I just killed my father.” you told him.

The knight send a sympathetic look. Percival came to your side, standing a little against you but not fully daring to intrude on the silent air you kept around you now.

Lancelot stepped to your side as well. “You made the right decision.”

“I know.” But learning to live with it would take time.

“We should go.” Gawain looked at Lancelot. “The fire will have drawn attention from afar.”

Lancelot noticed that questioning look the knight send him and knew he would have to explain himself later. The knight tapped Percival on the shoulder and gestured towards the black stallion with a small white pattern on it’s back.

“But we have three horses. I rode the mare here.” Percival scrunched his nose.

Gawain sighed and steered the boy towards his horse. “Y/n will ride the grey mare. We have Gringolet to carry us.”

Percival sighed in defeat, grumbling his inaudible disappointment. Gawain took the sword from the boy and helped him up on his horse making sure that the boy was seated safely. You went to the grey mare, brushing a hand along her neck. Lancelot stopped close at your side, again trying to see if your face had sustained damage from being hit. You didn’t feel very alert or present, it was a quiet state of shock that you hoped to hide. But it seemed that by hiding it, it got more obvious.

“It will just be a bruise.” you did not make eye-contact with him.

He was forward with voicing his concern, “I worry most about the state of your mind right now.”

You shook your head, taking in a deep sharp breath through your mouth that filled your lungs to the brim. “It should not have been so simple for me to make the choice to kill him, and yet it was.”

He spoke quietly, seeing how Gawain and Percival were waiting. “Aldith chose to keep hunting you and you had the right to react to it. You were defending yourself, he was always the one attacking.”

That was true… Aldith wouldn’t have mourned you or felt sorry for your death for even a second.

“You have a conscience.” Lancelot said. “And compassion. There is no shame in feeling it.” He patted the saddle of the grey mare. “Go on.”

As you hoisted yourself into the saddle, he stood near in case you would accidentally misplace your foot in the stirrup. It was a small gesture, but it once again showed his caring nature. Such a small thing and still it was enough to feel a bit better, to allow yourself to feel that all would be well again in time, maybe not now, but it would be. By reaching down just a little, you were able to touch his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. The moonlight touched his face when looking up at you and you couldn’t deny that that sight made the beat of your heart change it’s rhythm. The Ash Man snapped his eyes away, quickly moved to Goliath and hoisted himself into the saddle. Lancelot shared a look with Gawain, who nodded in return. Together you began to ride through the forest, away from Morrowstead and to a destination no one was certain of yet.

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[persona-brainrot-real]

Sae Niijima is such a good character it drives me insane a little. She's not a mother nor a maternal or doting older sister but instead a twenty four year old who was thrown into a position of responsibility that she never asked for. She loves Makoto just as much as she resents her and its so apparent every time they talk up until November. "Are you studying?" (I want you to do well) (I need you to get a job and stop making my life harder) "I'll use any method necessary to get this promotion" (Life will be easier for us) (So stop distracting me with your problems) "Focus on your future" (I know that you're capable) (I can't afford to waste my time on you, so stop wasting time on others)

Makoto is not only the sole reason she pushes as hard as she does for a promotion, for success, and the reason that she loses herself in her animosity over her fathers death, but also someone she can't stand for so long. Makoto was 14-15 when their father died. Sae was 21. As soon as she got the career she wanted and things started to look up, her stability was robbed from her and she was disillusioned with the system that her father had taught her to rely on and completely adhere to. How do you manage, the daughter of a cop, following his footsteps towards law enforcement, when you're suddenly reminded of how unfair it is? You can't quit, your little sister relies on you and she's so young and struggling just as badly with this grief. So you pick yourself up and you get moving again. You push harder, press further. You abandon your morals and your ethics because punishing criminals (guilty or not) is almost like punishing the man who killed your father.

And the whole time she's fighting for promotions, going for drinks with the SIU Director to make herself more favourable for promotions, trying to navigate being a woman in a competitive, suffocating, male-dominated field, falling behind despite doing so much where others are promoted for doing so little - all the while your little sister comes back from school and her biggest issues are so small compared to yours.

Persona 5 revolves so heavily around grief and loss and change and Sae embodies all of that so well, all of the sharp and unpleasant and jagged parts of grief.

[lexalovesbooks]

The ruin of kings is winning for most complicated family tree ever i have a headache

[mononijikayu]

i saw mommy kissing santa claus — fushiguro toji

“Mom, I saw you kissing Santa Claus last night.” You froze, the coffee cup halfway to your lips as your cheeks turned a warm shade of red. Your husband Toji, on the other hand, lowered his mug, his sharp green eyes sparkling with mischief. He looked at you, one brow raised, fighting the grin threatening to spread across his face. “Oh, really, kid?” Toji said, leaning back casually. “Mommy here was kissing Santa Claus, huh?” You stammered, caught off guard. “W-well, Megumi, I think maybe you were dreaming—" “Nope!” Megumi insisted, crossing his little arms over his chest. “I saw it, mom. You were right by the tree!” 

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence!;

WARNING/S: fluff, romance, nsfw, r-18, christmas day, santa, parenthood, pet names (babe, love, etc), love, humor, light-hearted, domestic life, slice of life, being in love, parenthood, married life, healthy relationship, toddler, family, late night sex, kissing, p-i-v sex, profanity, sexual intercourse, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of sexual intercourse, husband! toji, mamaguro! reader;

WORD COUNT: 7k words

NOTE: toji seems to me like the type who would have been so good at teasing mamaguro??? like he would definitely be the person that would also wear a santa claus costume just to put megumi's gifts on the tree and then know that megumi would be watching??? anyway i love their tiny family i am so floored every time i write about them. anyway merry fushiguro christmas!!! i love you all <3

box it up, christmas hun! (santa kayu 2024)

main masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

YOU ALWAYS ADORED CHRISTMAS. Even as a child, the magic of the holiday season was something your mother and father made sure to bring alive for you.

They worked tirelessly to fill each moment with joy, whether it was the way the house glowed with lights or how the scent of fresh-baked cookies lingered in the air. 

Your favorite memories were wrapped in those small, meaningful traditions—sipping hot chocolate while the snow fell softly outside, unwrapping presents by the fire, and gathering together to share stories and laughter. It wasn’t about the gifts or the grandeur, but the warmth of family and the sense of belonging.

Now that you had a family of your own, you were determined to recreate that magic, to pass down those same feelings of joy and love to the people you held closest to your heart. Fushiguro Toji wasn’t raised with those kinds of traditions. 

For him, the holidays were often just another day. Especially when he lived with his family and even after that. There was no desire for a fuss, no fanfare. But when it came to you, he was more than willing to step out of his comfort zone.

Toji might not have admitted it outright, but seeing how much the holidays meant to you made it easy for him to get involved. Whether it was wrestling with tangled strings of lights or holding your hand while you browsed for the perfect tree, he found himself drawn into the excitement. It was a quiet kind of joy for him, watching your face light up with happiness as you brought the season to life.

When your beloved Megumi came along, the holidays became even more special. Toji was quick to embrace his role, even if it meant helping you with putting out the tree or helping to bake cookies that somehow ended up burnt half the time.

He didn’t care if it was messy or chaotic—seeing the laughter, the wide-eyed wonder, and the unfiltered happiness of his family made every effort worth it.

What surprised him most was how much he’s slowly come to love those traditions, too. They weren’t just holidays anymore; they were the foundation of memories he never knew he needed.

He started to look forward to the little things, like staying up late with you to wrap presents or watching Megumi to try to stay awake for Santa, only to fall asleep halfway through their schemes.

Each holiday became another chance to build something new together, a season filled with traditions that were uniquely yours. Toji might have started off doing it for you, but somewhere along the way, he realized he was doing it for himself, too.

After all, your beautiful family meant everything to him, it’s now his safe zone—and these moments were proof that he finally had one worth celebrating.

So on this bright Christmas morning, your comely house was tenderly wrapped in a soft, magical stillness. The gentle hum of the house’s heater and the occasional crackle from the fireplace your husband had set up added to the warmth of the room. 

The Christmas tree glowed with colorful lights, their reflections dancing on the ornaments and the neatly wrapped presents beneath. The faint scent of cinnamon and pine hung in the air, blending with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

Young and bright four year old Fushiguro Megumi shuffled into the living room, his favorite blanket dragging behind him like a cape. His small, sleepy frame was bundled in his fuzzy pajamas, the ones with tiny snowflakes printed all over. 

His dark charcoal hair was a tousled mess, sticking out in every direction as if he’d been wrestling with his dreams. He paused near the doorway, rubbing his blue–green eyes, and blinked at the cozy scene before him.

There you were, curled up on the couch with Toji, both of you cradling steaming mugs of coffee. Toji was dressed in his usual casual sweatpants and a loose T-shirt, one arm draped lazily along the back of the couch, the other holding his mug. He looked relaxed, his sharp green eyes softened with a rare, unguarded warmth. 

You were tucked into his side, your legs curled beneath you, wearing an oversized Christmas special cardigan and your fuzzy faux fur slippers.

The two of you shared a quiet moment, sipping the coffee your husband brewed and exchanging conversation and content smiles as the early morning sunlight peeked through the curtains.

Megumi's sleepy gaze lit up as he took in the sight of the tree, its glowing lights illuminating the pile of presents waiting for him. His little mouth opened in a gasp, and he looked at the two of you with wide, sparkling blue–green orbs.

“It’s Christmas!” he announced, his voice still tinged with the rasp of sleep but filled with excitement. “It’s Christmas morning!”

You smiled, setting your mug on the coffee table and opening your arms to him. “Good morning, sweetheart. Merry Christmas.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He toddled over, crawling onto the couch and nestling between you and Toji. Toji chuckled, ruffling Megumi’s messy hair affectionately. “Morning, kid. Looks like Santa came through for you this time around, huh?”

Megumi nodded eagerly, his blue–green eyes darting back to the presents under the tree. “Can I open them now?” he asked, his voice filled with hopeful anticipation.

“Not even a good morning first?” Toji teased, arching an eyebrow. But the playful tone in his voice made Megumi giggle. “Too excited, you are.”

“Good morning, Dad.” Megumi said, grinning as he leaned against you. “Good morning, Mom.”

Your heart swelled at the sight of him, his excitement so pure and unfiltered. You kissed the top of his little head, wrapping an arm around him as Toji stood and stretched, walking over to grab the digital camera.

“All right.” Toji said with a smirk, motioning to the tree. “Let’s see what Santa left for you, kid.”

With a delighted squeal, Fushiguro Megumi scrambled off the couch and ran toward the presents, his blanket forgotten on the floor in his excitement.

You and Toji shared a tender glance, his usual smirk softening into a genuine, warm smile. You shake your head, looking at him with much contentment.

He walked back to you, settling beside you on the couch and slipping his hand into yours. His touch was steady, grounding, as the two of you watched Megumi dive headfirst into the pile of gifts.

His bright laughter filled the room, bright and melodic, blending perfectly with the soft crackle of the fireplace.

For a moment, everything was perfect—pure joy radiating from your son as he examined each box like it was a priceless treasure. Then, Megumi suddenly paused, his small frame still in the middle of the living room. 

He turned slowly to face you both, his expression shifting into something unusually serious, his little brows furrowing in a way that was far too mature for his age. When he wasn’t smiling, you were sure your son was quite a young old man in that tiny body. 

You blinked, puzzled, as Toji sat up straighter, his grip on your hand loosening. Before either of you could ask what was wrong, Megumi crossed his arms over his chest, his blanket forgotten entirely now, and declared with absolute certainty:

“Mom, I saw you kissing Santa Claus last night.”

You froze, the coffee cup halfway to your lips as your cheeks turned a warm shade of red. Your husband Toji, on the other hand, lowered his mug, his sharp green eyes sparkling with mischief. He looked at you, one brow raised, fighting the grin threatening to spread across his face.

“Oh, really, kid?” Toji said, leaning back casually. “Mommy here was kissing Santa Claus, huh?”

You stammered, caught off guard. “W-well, Megumi, I think maybe you were dreaming—"

“Nope!” Megumi insisted, crossing his little arms over his chest. “I saw it, mom. You were right by the tree!” 

His little pout was so serious it almost made you laugh. You tried to hold your composure, his cute little glare gleaming at you with the most adorable aggression. He looked too much like Toji when he was like this. And that had made you even more adoring of him in this way.

Toji’s chuckle deepened as he leaned back on the couch, completely unbothered. “Cookies and milk are standard, kid.” he said, shrugging casually. “But Santa? He’s a special guest. Sometimes he deserves a little extra appreciation.”

Megumi tilted his head, his little face scrunching in thought. “Like a hug?” he asked, glancing back at the presents under the tree, though his curiosity still lingered.

“Sure, sure.” Toji said, smirking as he threw a glance your way. “Or something like that.”

You nudged him with your elbow, your cheeks heating up again. “Toji, that’s not something you should be jumping into.” you whispered under your breath, giving him a look that was equal parts exasperated and amused.

Toji just grinned and leaned in closer to you, his voice low so only you could hear. “What? I didn’t even mention the mistletoe.” His tone was full of playful mischief, and you rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. 

“Mom? Dad?” Megumi’s voice broke through, his tiny hands clutching a brightly wrapped box as he looked up at you both. “Can I open this one first?”

You gave a soft laugh, glad for the distraction. “Of course, sweetheart.” you said, smiling warmly at him.

Toji reached over, ruffling Megumi’s hair again as the boy plopped down in front of the tree. “Go for it, kid. Let’s see what Santa left you.”

“Hmm. Okay.” he finally muttered, turning his attention to the colorful boxes waiting for him.

Megumi’s attention shifted entirely to the gift in his hands, his little fingers working furiously to tear the wrapping paper. You let out a breath, glancing at Toji, who was still watching you with that infuriatingly smug look.  His hands wrapped against your shoulders. 

He leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “Kissing Santa, huh, babe?” he teased, leaning in close. “Got any more Christmas spirit for me?”

Your face burned as you playfully shoved him, your smile betraying you. “Shut up, Toji.” you whispered, though the giggle that escaped ruined the effect.

“Guess Santa’s the lucky one this year, don’t you think?” he murmured.

You bit your lip, shaking your head but unable to hide the smile that crept across your face. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, yeah.” he said, his smirk softening into something warmer as he looked at you. “But you love me anyway.”

“Merry Christmas, babe.” Toji murmured, stealing a quick kiss.

“Merry Christmas, love.” you whispered back, heart full and cheeks still warm.

══════════════════

TOJI SAID HE PLANNED EVERYTHING. And knowing how much you trusted your husband, you do believe him. He hasn’t ever failed you before, after all. Your husband wasn’t going to fail you now either. He said he’s going to make it happen and he will. 

The night before Christmas was serene, the kind of quiet that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. The only sounds were the faint crackle of the fireplace and the occasional rustle of branches as the tree swayed slightly under the weight of its ornaments. 

The vibrant living room glowed softly, bathed in the colorful twinkle of Christmas lights that reflected off the shiny ribbons and bows of some of the presents you had already wrapped and bought for Megumi and each other. All Toji has to do now is add the other ones you bought for Megumi.

You had just finished cleaning up after dinner, your feet padding lightly across the wooden floor as you straighten a few stray decorations. A hum of curiosity pulled you toward the living room, and when you peeked around the corner, you couldn’t hold back a small smile from appearing on your pinkish lips.

There he was— Fushiguro Toji, crouched by the tree, fully dressed in a Santa Claus suit. The red fabric clung to his massively broad frame, the white trim looking comically out of place against his rugged demeanor. 

The bright red hat was askew on his head, barely covering his wild, dark hair, and the sight of him muttering multiple times under his breath while adjusting a precariously balanced present was nothing short of endearing.

“Damn this tree’s too small.” Toji grumbled, carefully shoving a particularly large box further under the branches. “How the hell does Santa Claus even do this without knocking everything over? Like, this is just an insane operation for a break in. Mission impossible even!”

You stifled a laugh, leaning against the doorway as you crossed your arms. “You’re really committing to this Santa Claus thing, huh?”

Toji glanced up sharply, his green eyes narrowing at you in mock irritation before softening into a lopsided smirk. You sighed, smiling as he enjoys taking in the sight of you like this. He has never thought he would ever have something as enjoyable as this life. And he always has you to thank for it.

“Caught me, babe.” he said, straightening up and dusting his hands off. “Santa Claus really had to work harder for this. And I gotta commit like he does, babe. I mean, this is harder than it looks, you know.”

You stepped into the room, your gaze sweeping over the scene. “You’re supposed to look jolly, not grumpy, love. Kids don’t want an angry Santa Claus.”

Toji snorted, tugging at the crooked hat and tossing it onto the couch. “You’re lucky I even agreed to wear this, babe.” he said, gesturing at the suit with a faint grimace. “This thing’s itchy as hell. How the hell did people wear this without having to scratch everywhere? Even my crotch feels itchy.”

You rolled your eyes, walking over to adjust one of the presents he’d just placed. “You’re not exactly selling the magic of Christmas, love.”

He leaned against the arm of the couch, his smirk turning sly. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I’m doing pretty good. The kid’s gonna love it in the morning. He’s going to have fun about Santa bringing in lotsssss of cool presents.”

You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “And what about me? Does Santa Claus have any surprises for me? I mean….I should get gifts too, right?”

Toji’s grin widened as he pushed off the couch and sauntered toward you, his voice dropping to a playful, sensual murmur. “Actually, yeah. Look up, babe.”

Your eyes followed his gaze, landing on the tiny sprig of mistletoe hanging above your heads. You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. You looked at him with so much adoration, you couldn’t help it. He just made you feel giddy every single day. 

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

He took another step closer, his voice low and teasing. “Maybe. But I’m also a hardworking Santa Claus. And Santa likes to get paid for his trouble. I’m sure this pretty lady in front of him will ease his troubles.”

You rolled your eyes playfully once more, your lips twitching as you fought back a smile. “Naughty Santa, aren’t you?” you muttered, leaning up just enough to close the gap between you. “What about Mrs. Claus?”

“Don’t have one.” He smiles down at you, his thumb pressing against your lips. “Would you wanna volunteer to be one, pretty woman?”

You laughed aloud at his words. “Shouldn’t you take me out to dinner first?”

“Well, if you’d let me, then I will.” He grins at you.

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you.”

“Good. Santa’s happy about that.”

“Well, we only want that, don’t we?” You smiled at him.

“Hm, very great for securing your kid a spot on my gift list.”

You giggled at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but I’m your ridiculous, future Mrs. Claus.” 

You laughed at his words again, which made him very happy. Your husband Toji happily pressed hands forward and found your waist as he met you halfway, his sly lips brushing against yours in a passionate kiss that was far too warm for such a chilly night. 

You pushed deeper, kissing him back, pulling him closer to you. When you finally pulled back to take a breath, his grin was smug as it was shameless, his bright  green eyes gleaming with the endless joy that comes with having you as his beloved. 

“Best payment I’ve ever gotten. By far.” he murmured, his voice soft but smug.

You laughed, swatting at his chest as you stepped away. “Go finish your job, Santa Claus. There’s still a tree that needs all the presents to set up for the good kid.”

He chuckled, watching you with a lingering smile as you walked away. “Yes, ma’am. But don’t think this is over.” he called after you, his tone full of promise.

“I look forward to it, Santa!”

══════════════════

OF COURSE YOU’LL NEVER FORGET ABOUT LAST NIGHT. You could still feel your legs sore and your throat full of his pleasurable bites. But that wasn’t important right now, even though, of course it felt really good. Santa was really good with blessings. But that wasn’t the point. 

You could feel your cheeks turn redder and your ears more scarlet. You tried to calm yourself down as you continued to clear out stuff in the kitchen. The cookies were more important. You had guests coming over.

Of course, on the other side of the wall, the living room was alive with Megumi’s excited giggles and the joyful chaos of wrapping paper flying in every direction.  His precious little voice carried as he marveled at each gift, holding up toys and books like treasures. 

You peeked at him from the kitchen, your heart swelling at how happy he was. Your son’s joys were the reason you always worked so hard at the prosecutor’s office. And he was, genuinely, the happiest little boy. And that made everything feel like it paid off.

You were in the middle of arranging cookies on a festive plate when you felt it: a pair of strong arms sliding around your waist, pulling you against a firm chest. The scent of pine and the faintest trace of cologne told you exactly who it was before he even spoke.

“Toji, love.” you started, a hint of exasperation in your voice. “What are you doing?”

“Mmm nothing.” he murmured against your ear, his voice rich and teasing. He grins slowly as he catches a peak of the hickeys from your side, hidden in the cardigan. “Just came to say thank you for, you know... last night.”

Your hands froze, the cookie you were holding slipping onto the counter as heat rushed to your cheeks. You were just trying to forget about it now but the images started to flood your head once more as your husband nibbles against your ear.

“Toji, please.” you hissed, glancing nervously toward the doorway to make sure Megumi was too busy with his presents to overhear. The last thing you need is to traumatize your little son.“Not now.”

But Fushiguro Toji, as always, was undeterred. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his lips grazing just close enough to your ear to make you shiver. He hums against your skin, bright eyes looking at you with wanton affection.

“What? I’m just saying Santa Claus didn’t just get a kiss under the mistletoe. I mean he enjoyed it really well too—”

You spin your head toward him, your bright eyes wide as you whisper with embarrassment. “Will you stop? Love, our son’s on the other side of the wall and—”

Toji only grinned, his hold on you tightening slightly as he leaned in closer. “Come on, sweetheart. Admit it. Santa Claus always deserves a little something extra for working so hard, don’t you think?”

“You sly fox of a husband.” you hissed, swatting at his arm as your cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. “You are impossible. I swear, Toji.”

He let out a low, rumbling laugh, clearly reveling in your flustered state. “You’re cute when you’re all embarrassed like this, babe.” he teased, nuzzling the side of your neck in a way that made your heart skip. “But I wasn’t lying, you know. Best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

Your heart melted at his words, even as you tried to maintain your composure. “You’re lucky it’s Christmas, love.” you muttered, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as a small smile crept onto your face. “Otherwise, it’d be a different story.”

Toji shifted, leaning back just enough to study your beautiful expressions. His bright green eyes were soft, a rare tenderness shining in them that made your breath catch. The air of joy blossoming in his chest ever so fondly when he looks at you more. 

“Lucky, huh?” he said, a hint of sincerity beneath the teasing. “Nah. I’m the luckiest guy every day I wake up to you. Every day, every minute, every second. Every day. For forever. I’m the luckiest guy on earth, babe.”

Your face burned hotter, and you turned back to the cookies to hide your expression from him. You could feel your heart making flips and jumps against the wall of your chest. He’s always so good at making you feel this way. 

You were really going to be overwhelmed for all your life with how much he always makes you feel the universe with his love and tenderness. You were always going to be falling in love with this man over and over again like this. You sighed, admitting defeat to him. 

 “You’re ridiculous, love.” you mumbled, but the warmth blossoming in your chest betrayed your words. “Really….”

He couldn’t help but chuckled again, reaching around you to snag a cookie off the plate. You gasp as you try to stop him, but he lifts it up and you pout at him, knowing you can’t reach it. He snickers at you. You turn back and continue putting away the other cookies.

“That’s why you love me, babe.” Toji said, his voice smooth and teasing as he took another bite of the cookie, his smirk practically glowing with satisfaction. 

Before you could muster a response, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your temple in a kiss so gentle it made your heart flutter. “Don’t work too hard. Megumi and I are waiting for you, okay? Still got some presents left for us to open.”

You watched him stroll back into the living room, his broad frame relaxed, his laughter already mingling with Megumi’s excited chatter. His voice carried back to you, warm and playful, as he greeted your son again, seamlessly joining him in exploring his new toys. 

The sound of Megumi’s giggles and Toji’s deep chuckles filled the house, creating a melody that could warm even the coldest snowy, winter morning. It was what you wanted to wake up to every single day. It was all you could ever want for all of time.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, leaning back against the counter as a soft smile tugged at your lips. It was uncontrollable, this joy, this love that bubbled up in your chest. This was a love that had a place to go and blossom here in this place, in this family. In this life you have.

Ridiculous, you thought with a shake of your head. Toji was ridiculous. But he was also your, the most precious of men who made even the simplest moments unforgettable, who filled your life with laughter, warmth, and love.

And your precious Megumi. Your sweet, bright boy, was the perfect little light who completed the picture. Everything about life made sense when you met Toji and had Megumi together. Life began when you had this. And you knew he would agree with that sentiment.

You looked out at the scene before you, the two of them sprawled on the floor amid wrapping paper and toys, Megumi pointing animatedly at something as Toji nodded with exaggerated seriousness.

It was so small, so ordinary—and yet it was everything. It meant the world to you. No, you shook your head. It meant the universe to you. And you would never trade this for anything in the world.

You felt it all in that moment: gratitude, contentment, and a profound sense of love. How lucky you were, to have this life, this family. This was your everything. And no matter how many lifetimes you could dream of, you knew there would never be anything more beautiful than this.

“Babe, Megumi wants his mommy!” Toji’s voice called from the living room, pulling you from your thoughts.

You chuckled, pushing off the counter and heading toward the sound of your favorite voices. “Coming, love!”

As you stepped into the living room, Megumi beamed up at you, his hands full of his latest toy, while Toji looked over with a smirk that was both mischievous and affectionate. You settled in beside them, feeling their warmth wrap around you like a hug. 

Life wasn’t just great to live—it was perfect. 

And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

══════════════════

TOJI'S TAKING ALL THE OPPORTUNITIES HE CAN GET. But if you were being honest, so were you. Last night wasn't enough for you to get your fill. When your husband is someone like Toji, how could you?

The house was quiet now, save for the faint hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the floorboards as the winter wind pressed against the walls.

Megumi had been tucked into bed after a long, laughter-filled Christmas dinner, his tiny snores signaling that he was sound asleep. The evening had been perfect—filled with warmth, love, and memories you’d cherish forever.

Now, it was just the two of you.

Toji leaned against the doorframe of your bedroom, watching as you pulled off the festive sweater you'd worn all day. His gaze was heavy, but not with exhaustion—it was something else, something that made your skin tingle.

"You finally sitting still for once?" he teased, his voice low, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin that followed. "Maybe I am. Or maybe I was waiting for you to catch up."

That was all the invitation he needed. Toji crossed the room in a few long strides, his arms circling your waist as he pulled you close. His lips found yours almost immediately, hungry, but unhurried. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, and for once, it felt like you did.

Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging lightly as he deepened the kiss. His hands roamed, tracing the curve of your waist, the small of your back, and eventually settling at your hips, holding you firmly against him. The heat between you both grew, sparking like the fire you’d left burning in the living room.

"I’ve been waiting all day for this, babe." he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and filled with need.

"Me too." you admitted, your breath hitching as his lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of soft, teasing kisses that made your knees weak.

The world outside didn’t matter anymore. Not the snow piling up on the windowsill, not the mess of dishes waiting in the kitchen, and certainly not the clock ticking down the last hours of Christmas Day. All that mattered was the way Toji made you feel. You always feel so seen, loved, desired when it comes to your beloved husband.

He guided you toward the bed, his movements slow and deliberate as if savoring every second. The night was yours, a stolen moment of intimacy in the chaos of life.

And as his lips found yours again, you knew this was the best gift you could have asked for—time together, just the two of you, wrapped in the comfort of each other’s arms.

Toji’s arm slid right back around your neck, firm yet careful, pulling you closer as his lips claimed yours once more. The way he touched you sent shivers cascading down your spine, every sensation heightened by the quiet intimacy of the moment.

His grip was confident, possessive, and it made your pulse quicken as pleasure rippled through you like a rising tide. Each kiss, each graze of his hands against your skin, ignited something deep within you, leaving no room for anything else but the heat building between you.

He knew exactly how to unravel you, how to make you melt under his touch, and he didn’t hold back. He never holds back. Not when it was you he has to make love to. Making love to you was his church. It was his patronage. It was his repentance, it was his atonement. It was his salvation. His love for you was his salvation.

“Toji…” Your voice was barely a whisper, a mixture of breathlessness and yearning.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and intense, filled with something raw and unspoken. His thumb brushed gently along your jawline as his other arm stayed firmly around your neck, keeping you grounded in the moment.

“You doin' so good, babe.” he murmured, his voice rough and low, sending a fresh wave of heat through you.

The way he looked at you, the way he held you. Everything about it was overwhelming in the best way. Your body responded instinctively, arching into him as the pleasure coursed through every nerve, building higher with each kiss, each touch, each whispered word.

Time seemed to blur as he continued, his movements unhurried but deliberate, as though savoring every moment with you. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. This was all there was right now, just the two of you, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of each other.

Toji’s lips trailed down to your neck, his hot breath against your skin making you shiver. He knew exactly where to kiss, where to linger, drawing soft gasps from you as his hand caressed your side, sliding over the curves he loved to touch.

The pressure of his arm around your neck wasn’t rough, but good enough to make you feel the tension of his touch against your flesh. Everything about his touch, it was deliberate, possessive, reminding you that he wanted every inch of you, body and soul.

Your hands roamed over his shoulders, pulling him closer, urging him to keep going. The sensations rolled through you like waves, each one stronger than the last, your body responding to his every move. You could feel the heat of him against you, the tension between you building with every touch, every kiss.

“Toji…” you murmured again, your voice trembling with need.

“Hmm?” He didn’t stop, his lips finding that spot just below your ear that made your breath hitch. “Say it again, babe.” he whispered, his tone dark and teasing, sending a fresh jolt of desire through you.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging gently, and the low chuckle that escaped his lips vibrated against your skin, sending shivers cascading down your spine. The sound was rich, deep, and filled with promise, igniting a fire inside you that grew with every passing second.

His lips trailed along your jawline, slow and deliberate, before finding the sensitive curve of your neck. He lingered there, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that made your breath hitch.

Your body press instinctively closer to him. The warmth of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth against your skin, left you trembling, a quiet gasp spilling from your lips.

His hand slid lower, the roughness of his palm contrasting deliciously against your soft skin. His touch was teasing at first, featherlight, exploring, testing your limits.

But then it grew bolder, more certain, as he found the places that made you quiver beneath him. Every brush of his fingertips sent sparks shooting through your body, the intensity of it building with each moment.

You arched into him, desperate for more, the ache between you growing unbearable. A soft moan escaped you, unbidden but unstoppable, and the sound seemed to ignite something in him.

He let out another low, satisfied laugh, his breath hot against your neck as he murmured, “You sound so good, baby. Don’t stop.”

The pleasure rolled through you like a tidal wave, crashing over every part of you until all you could feel was him. It was all his touch, his heat, his weight against you.

The room seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you locked in this intimate dance, your bodies moving together in perfect, unspoken harmony.

Your skin grew slick with sweat, the heat between you almost unbearable but so, so good. Every movement, every touch, every kiss only pulled you deeper into him, the connection between you electric and all-consuming.

“Toji…” you whispered, your voice trembling with need, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

He lifted his head just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes smoldering with desire as he leaned in close.

“I’ve got you, babe. I got you.” he murmured, his voice rough and filled with raw emotion.

And with those words, he claimed your lips again, pouring every ounce of his passion into the kiss. His hand tangled in your hair, his other still exploring, holding you firmly against him as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

Toji’s breath hitched as he stilled, buried deep inside you, his forehead pressed to yours. The heat of your body wrapped tightly around him, the soft, rhythmic flutter of your walls making him groan low in his throat.

It was almost too much for you, how big he was, how whole you feel when he fit you to the hilt. Everything about it the way you felt, the way your body seemed to pulse and cling to him, drawing him deeper into the moment. It all just felt too good.

His hands gripped your hips firmly, anchoring himself, trying to hold onto the frayed edges of his control. A thought flickered in his mind, unbidden and primal: Can I even last long with this?

The idea sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through him, his jaw clenching as he tried to steady his breathing. He didn’t need to move—didn’t need to thrust or grind or do anything but stay right where he was, utterly consumed by the way you felt around him.

The subtle contractions of your body, the way you tightened around him and the way he fluttered tightly against your walls, that was all enough to drive him mad. You were still as you were before, you were paradise in every sense of the word.

“Toji…love....oh—” you whispered, your voice a mix of need and wonder, your nails dragging lightly down his back. The sound of his name on your lips only made it harder for him to hold back.

“Shit, babe.” he murmured, his voice rough and strained. “You’re gonna kill me like this.”

He pressed his forehead harder against yours, his breath coming in uneven gasps as he tried to wrestle with the overwhelming pleasure. Your moans can only grow as he pushed in and out in a more passionate speed.

“I swear… I could come just like this, babe.” he admitted, his voice low and ragged. “The way you’re squeezing me so good, babe… you feel so damn good.”

The confession sent a shiver through you, your body responding instinctively, and he groaned again, his fingers digging into your hips as if to ground himself. He wanted to move, to chase that inevitable high.

But at the same time, he didn’t want to lose the sheer intensity of the moment—didn’t want to lose the way it felt to just be inside you, connected in every way. He still needed to last a little bit more, he wanted this moment to last.

He leaned in, his lips brushing yours as he murmured, “You’re perfect. You know that?” His voice was raw, filled with both reverence and desperation.

And as he stayed there, lost in the heat and intimacy, he wondered if he could ever get enough of this—of you. Every sensation was heightened, every second stretching into eternity, until nothing else existed but him.

The overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. In his arms, you felt completely unraveled, utterly cherished, and entirely his. The world outside faded completely—just the two of you, tangled together in the quiet intimacy of your shared space.

Toji’s movements grew more deliberate, his bruised lips finding your own again as he deepened the kiss, his arm around your neck keeping you anchored to him. His tongue wrestling against yours as he tried to thrust deeper inside your mouth, earning a groan from your throat.

The way he held you, the way he touched you—it wasn’t just desire; it was love, raw and unfiltered, pouring into every moment.

Your body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure he brought you, and you clung to him, lost in the heat of the moment. Toji pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath, his voice low and husky when he finally spoke.

“You’re mine, babe.” he whispered, the words heavy with emotion and promise.

His calloused hand brushing your cheek as his eyes met yours. And in that moment, you knew there was no place you’d rather be than here, with him, wrapped up in the intensity of his love.

"Always." You whispered back to him.

He felt satisfied with that as he pushed deeper into you.

You couldn't speak words anymore by the end of that.

The world was cold from the snowing echoes, but you were warm.

Warm in the pleasure of the husband you loved the most.

══════════════════

epilogue

The room was still bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, your breathing finally steady after what had been a Christmas evening full of all sorts of intimacy and bright warm laughter.

Fushiguro Toji, ever the opportunist, propped himself up on one elbow, the smirk on his face practically devilish as his fingers began tracing patterns on your bare shoulder.

“You know, babe.” he started, his voice low and teasing, “I’m thinking Santa deserves a little overtime bonus for all his hard work tonight.”

You turned your head, arching a brow as you caught the glint in his eye. “Overtime? Didn’t we just finish the main shift? Both last night and tonight?”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of energy left, babe.” he murmured, leaning in to nip playfully at your ear. “The question is… do you?”

You opened your mouth to reply, maybe to tease him back, but the sound of soft footsteps in the hallway made you both freeze. Your eyes darted toward the door, which creaked open just enough to reveal a mop of messy black hair and the outline of a sleepy little boy clutching his favorite stuffed animal.

“Mom? Dad?” Megumi’s voice was tiny, wobbling just enough to tug at your heartstrings. “I had a nightmare…”

Toji let out a low groan, his head dropping onto your shoulder as he muttered, “Of course you did, kid. Of course you did.”

“Shush!” you hissed, elbowing him lightly before sitting up and pulling the blanket around yourself. “Come here, sweetheart.” you said softly, patting the edge of the bed.

Megumi shuffled in, his little feet barely making a sound as he climbed up onto the bed and wriggled his way into the space between you and Toji. He immediately buried his face against your side, his stuffed animal squished between the two of you.

“What happened, bud?” you asked, stroking his charcoal hair gently.

“There was a big, scary monster…” Megumi mumbled, his voice muffled against your side. “It chased me, and it almost got me.”

You looked at your husband who sighed back at you. Toji pushed himself up onto one elbow, running a hand through his disheveled hair, looking towards his little son.

“A monster, huh?” he asked, his tone light but laced with mock seriousness. “Did it look like a giant turkey? ‘Cause I told you eating all that stuffing was a risky move.”

Megumi pulled his face away just long enough to glare at his dad, his little brow furrowed in unimpressed indignation. “No, Dad.” he said with a hint of exasperation. “It wasn’t a turkey. It was scary!”

“Scarier than me?” Toji teased, flexing his arm dramatically as if that would somehow settle the matter.

You shot him a look, biting back a laugh. “Toji, love. Please.” you warned softly, shaking your head.

“Okay, okay.” Toji relented, holding up his hands in mock surrender. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Megumi’s hair. “Listen, kid, no monsters are getting past me. You know that, right? They take one look at your old man and run for the hills.”

Megumi’s little body relaxed against you, his small hand clutching tightly at your shirt. “Promise?” he whispered.

Toji ruffled his hair. “Promise. Now get some sleep. You’ve got another day of playing with all those presents tomorrow, and I don’t want to hear any complaints about being too tired.”

Megumi let out a sleepy little hum of agreement, his breathing evening out as he drifted off within minutes. Toji flopped back onto his pillow with a long sigh, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“So, what do you think? Nightmare slayer and round-two initiator all in one night? I’m a man of many talents.”

You smirked, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “You’re also a man with a very tired wife and a son snoring between us. Maybe tomorrow, Toji.”

Toji groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. “Tomorrow? I’m not getting any younger over here.”

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh as you settled back down, pulling the blanket up over the three of you. “Goodnight, Santa.” you teased, nudging him lightly.

Toji huffed but couldn’t suppress the faint smile tugging at his lips as he turned to wrap an arm protectively over both you and Megumi. He looked at you both warmly.

“Yeah, yeah. Merry Christmas to me." he muttered, his voice soft and warm. And despite his earlier grumbling, you could feel the contentment radiating from him.

For Fushiguro Toji, there was no better gift than this—his family, safe and sound, wrapped in the warmth of a love he’d never stop cherishing. Life was great.

[scorpiosbite]

when drew watched actress!reader’s sex scene for the first time

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── drew’s been binging game of thrones ever since that fateful day madelyn forced him to watch the show, what was meant to be a normal binge session turns into him being the horniest he’s ever been. making the anticipation of meeting you even heavier.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: this takes place during the filming of obx 4, before madelyn informed the obx cast that they were going to meet you when you came to LA.

drew could not tear his eyes away from the screen of the tv in his moroccan hotel room. he thought that after watching game of thrones consistently, now nearing the end of the first season he would become accustomed to see you in costume, but every time you came onto the screen his breath was taken away. seeing you in that the sliver waist length wig that looked like it was your real hair, the sheer fabric floor length dresses with the daring cuts that exposed more and more of your soft skin, and the intricate dornish jewellery with the subtle targaryen detailing made him feel like a teenager once again with how quickly his pants tightened. and it wasn’t only how you looked, it was also your performance. you were an astonishing actress, he would forget that you weren’t actually visenya in real life, that this world didn’t actually exist and that you were just acting. he was so captivated by you.

“the last dragon, that’s who you are visenya, the last targaryen left in the world, perhaps if you favoured your mother in looks, you would escape the pressures of the targaryen name, but you do not, you look just like rhaegar only with the tanned skin of elia.” you rolled your eyes and drew felt his heart jump. surrounded by the hanging gardens of sunspear in dorne, you paced with aggression, your sliver hair swishing behind you, your dress billowing as you stared down your costar. “have you come to lecture me of my responsibilities as the last targaryen, jaime? all while your bastard son sits my throne? and your sister puppets him from behind.”

“we are only married because your father knew that once i take back my throne i will come after the lannisters for your family’s hand in my mother and brother’s murders. he thought that if we were married that i would not harm you and your name would live on through my womb. but i am no fool, targaryen women have been known to kill their husbands, who is to say my coin wasn’t flipped on the side of madness. that is the saying is it not? when a targaryen is born the gods flip a coin, greatness or madness.” you now stood face to face with the man, staring him down with a smug expression and drew was once again struck with your talent as an actress, your body displayed the anger and frustration that your character felt despite the facade of arrogance on your face. then suddenly your lips connected with his, the actor who played jaime slid his hand around your waist, the cuts of your dress allowing him to touch your bare skin, your hands went to his hair and drew had never felt so jealous of another man.

jaime picked you up with ease, walking backwards to a chair sitting down with you spread on his lap, and drew thought that he would do anything to have you like that. the camera filmed you from the back, jaime’s hand caressing your exposed back down to your ass, and drew squeezed the covers of his bed in response. the camera cut to a mid shot of both of you from the side, you broke the kiss your face still so close to his, lips brushing together as you spoke in a hushed tone. “i want you to fuck me, jaime.” drew groaned at the lust in your voice, and wondered if that was what you sounded like in real life. jaime’s actor groaned in response to your statement and drew felt sympathy for the man, because he knew that if he was in that position instead of him he would be unable to stop himself from cumming in his pants, professionalism be fucked.

jaime’s hands trailed to the back of your neck and the camera cut to back to the shot of your back, closing up on his hands as his hands pulled at the strings holding your flimsy dress together the camera seemed like it was handheld making the shot feel all the more intimate, the material fell and jaime tugged the dress off of you leaving you completely bare but drew could only see your back and up, but then, the camera cut to a wide shot, and drew gasped as your entire body from the back was exposed. jaime’s hand coming down to squeeze the supple flesh of your ass and drew felt his cock harden at the sight. the camera cut to an over the shoulder shot from jaime and your bare chest came into view, this time drew couldn’t stop the moan that escaped him, your hands tugged at the strings of jaime’s pants although the camera kept on you, your hands out of the shot.

you sank down on jaime’s cock and a whine-like moan escaped you, drew felt like he was going insane, he couldn’t stop himself as he tugged his boxers down, his hard cock springing up to slap against his stomach. his hand wrapping around the thick length, squeezing, pearly beads of pre cum leaking out. drew flicked his eyes back up to the screen and you had your head thrown back as you bounced on jaime’s cock, drew knew that the pleasure on your scrunched up face was fake, that the melodious moans that were escaping your pretty lips that were hung open were fake, but the way your tits were bouncing was real and drew couldn’t stop himself from tugging his cock in time with the movements of your hips, your head tilted back down to gaze down at jaime your eyes so fucked out and drew wished that it was him you were looking at. that it was him that could run his hands all over you.

you spoke breathlessly “targaryens used to feed their enemies to their dragons, i don’t have a dragon yet, perhaps i shall just eat you myself, husband.” jaime groaned in response, connecting your lips back together and drew sped up his movements his hand stroking with fervour, the squelching sounds echoing through the room, his other hand coming down to squeeze at his balls, his eyes still glued to you on the tv. drew was close he could feel it and as your body shuddered and you collapsed into jaime’s lap, drew came with a deep groan. cumming all over his chest and stomach. drew threw his head back against his headboard, he felt just a little bit pathetic, that he didn’t have the courage to message you but he could jack off to you doing your job, but god what he would give to have you like that.

TAGLIST: @sunnybunnyy2 @percysley @wearemadeofstardust0 @idgasb @pinkpantheris @emmaaas-posts @grace-sully @chimmysoftpaws

you guys are not believe the fucking writers block i suffered while writing this for it just to turn out so shit but nevertheless I hope you enjoyed!

[sukunas-wife]

Being Sukuna’s Pregnant Wife and being worshipped as a diety because you were able to conceive the four armed hulking cursed child, you must have the blessing of fertility

Having a shrine erected in your name because barren women believed you’d bless them with fertility despite your legacy starting with the child of the curse that torments them all

Telling your hand maids “Don’t bring me my clothes, bring me one of the kings robes.” The hand maids flinching and wanting to protest out of fear of taking the King of Curses robes

The poor naive young hand maid that had grown a crush on the king excitedly rushing if it meant she could enter the private bed chambers,

Scoffing with a malicious smile to your loyal maids when they shook their heads with Sympathy, they learned long before at such a request it would be foolish to go alone, at least 2 or 3 of them would need to go in your name, preferably the ones your husband recognized to be by your side the longest. But you didn’t like this new girl, she was too enthusiastic to work at the palace only to have a complete change in character when she learned she was assigned to work for you

“It’ll serve that poor girl right” you looked away from the door when your loyal hand maids brought out a wooden box with one of Sukuna’s folded Kimono’s they helped you dress your swollen belly accentuated by the belt the kimono tailored to fit your husband left you with extra space and length, it was far more comfortable then the Kimono’s and robes you were, the lingering smell of your husband with comforting as your rubbed your belly hands barely peeking from the massive sleeves

“Let’s go see my husband.” Was all you said as you started your walk, the maids followed close as you made it to the bed chambers, the door was open, you looked in, Sukuna sneering down at the girl laying in a pool of blood, Uraume was making quick work of the mess

Sukuna’s snapped to you and his arm’s opening in an unusual display of affection, you walked around the mess to reach him, he pulled you into his left side, one hand on your waist the other making you face him, bring his right hand up he rested his hand on your stomach “Some of your maids need a lesson on how to speak to their king,” he looked away from your face to your stomach as he started to move his hands in circles “So swollen with my child, it’s no wonder you send your maids to steal my robes.”

You smack his shoulder with a playful smile and he chuckled “Don’t say it like that you make me feel bigger than i am.”

“Now,” he looked up at your face again, “why are you here.”

You tilted your head to the side, “I started contractions this morning, I’ve been in pain all day and I’m barely standing, my new maid wouldn’t stop speaking so highly of my husband accomplishing having a child when I was at my worst pain level getting ready to push out YOUR child that I HAD to carry. Anyhow I came to get you because he is ready to come.”

Sukuna stared down at you confused “How do you know it’s a boy?”

“I’m his mother,” he watched as you placed your hand over his stilling his rubbing of your stomach, “I knew he was a boy from the day your seed took.”

Sukuna smirked “Is that so? Then let’s see this boy.”

🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤❤️❤️❤️🖤

After an hour of fighting the doctor tending to your birth you gave birth to your lively son, born screaming without needing stimulation to cry form the doctor. Your husband couldn’t help but laugh when he saw his child in his full glory, he was a boy indeed.

The help immediately gave you your son and you cooed at him when he took to your breast, your husband taking blankets from the maids and covered your son also covering you in the process as you struggled a bit to pass what came next. Your son a spitting image of his father, your breathy laugh caught Sukuna’s attention as he came back to your bed side stroking your hair and rubbing your stomach the way the help had been doing.

“What amuses you?” He watched his son slowly close his eyes as you coddled him closer.

“I’m the one who had to carry him for so long, and the ingrate took nothing from me.” You smiled and shook your head before looking up at Sukuna.

Soon the doctor left after clearing you of any possible issues and checking your son. “His name?” You looked at Sukuna and he sighed “Yuji”

The look of adoration in your eyes was something Sukuna would’ve wanted to capture forever if he could express the sentiment. However for now he’d settle for memorizing every detail of today. His wife birthing his first heir, the name she had chosen he permitted.

Maybe just maybe this world wasn’t so bad

[tokkiwrites]

𝚄𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗.

mom's fiancé/bf! joel miller x f! reader • part two • part three

Summary: Your mom's new fiancé, Joel Miller, is the kind of man you could never shake out of your mind—rugged, rough, and embodiment of your long-buried fantasies. He's been your next-door neighbor for years, and the crush you harbored through your teenage years never really faded. Now, he's with your mom, and they're planning to get married. You should want her to be happy, but you can't ignore the tension growing between you and Joel. It's something that was never meant to happen. But as you uncover Joel's true motives for being with your mom, you realize maybe your feelings weren't one-sided after all. And maybe, despite everything, you’re the one he really wants.

tags: stepcest kind of, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 40s), forbidden romance, emotional conflict, slow burn, sexual tension, complicated family dynamics, heartbreak, Joel being an emotionally complicated bastard, ANGST, cheating, infidelity, nsfw, p in v unprotected, breeding kink.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ me writing angst?? wow could never imagine it. i hope you guys like this i dunno what came over me. almost 7k (oops) words of hurt confusion and a filthy finish to dry your tears. not proofread!!

The house smelled like home, like it always had. Fresh cut grass from the lawn, the faint scent of laundry detergent, and the crisp autumn air breezing in through the windows. But the warmth that had once filled it felt absent now, replaced by the coolness of change. A change you hadn’t been able to brace for. Your mother had finally met someone after years of being alone, and that someone was Joel Miller.

You sat at the kitchen table, your fingers trailing the edge of your mug, staring at the steam rising from your coffee. The engagement ring on her finger glinted as she poured a second cup of coffee, smiling to herself. You couldn’t take your eyes off it—the gold band, the small, delicate stone. Joel had chosen it.

"Can you believe it?" she said, laughing lightly. "I didn’t think I’d find someone after your father. But Joel... he’s good to me."

You swallowed hard. "Yeah, Mom. I can tell."

You knew he was good to her. You saw it every time they were together. The way he would brush his hand over her back when he passed her, the way he’d laugh at her jokes. The way she looked at him, like he was everything she had wanted but had never thought to ask for.

But that wasn’t what twisted the knife in your chest.

Joel had always been more than just a neighbor. You’d been only nineteen when you started noticing him, the way a girl starts to notice a man—how his shoulders would flex when he lifted something heavy, the rasp in his voice when he spoke to you, low and careful. He was rough around the edges, with that Southern drawl and hands scarred from years of work. A part of you had always wondered what those hands would feel like on you, against your skin, but you never let the thoughts go far. He was older, after all, and back then, it had been nothing more than an innocent crush. But now he was here, in your life in a way you hadn’t imagined, not as some distant neighbor or a fleeting thought, but your mother’s fiancé. The reality of it made your stomach churn, and you hated yourself for the way your heart still skipped a beat whenever he came around.

"I’m glad you like him," your mom continued, her voice pulling you out of your thoughts. She took a seat across from you, her eyes soft with affection. "I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about this, but... it means a lot to me that you’re okay with it." You forced a smile, the tightness in your chest growing. "Of course. I just want you to be happy." She reached out and touched your hand. "I am."

You wished you could say the same.

The days stretched into weeks, each one bringing you closer to the wedding. The house buzzed with preparations, your mother caught up in a whirlwind of joy and excitement. You tried to blend into the background, to stay out of the way, but it was impossible. Every time you turned around, Joel was there, a steady, looming presence.

One afternoon, you found yourself out in the yard, helping your mom plant some new flowers along the fence. The sun was high in the sky, the heat beating down on your skin. You wiped the sweat from your forehead, focusing on digging the next hole. "Need some help?" Joel’s voice came from behind you, making you jump. You turned, finding him standing there with a shovel in hand, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. He was wearing a faded flannel, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the sinewy muscles of his forearms. His hair was streaked with gray at the temples, his face lined with years of hard work and sun exposure, but he was still undeniably handsome. Too handsome.

"No, we’re good here," you replied, keeping your voice steady as you turned back to the soil. Your mom looked up from her spot, grinning. "Actually, Joel, I think we could use a little extra muscle." He chuckled and came over, kneeling beside you, close enough that you could smell the scent of earth and sweat on him. His presence was overpowering, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep your mind from drifting.

"So," he said casually, his voice low as he worked beside you, "you’ve been quiet lately. Everything alright?" You felt his gaze on you, but you didn’t look up. "Yeah, 'm just busy."

"Busy, huh?" He tossed a clump of dirt aside, his tone teasing but not unkind. "You don’t strike me as the busy type." You shrugged. "Things change." Joel paused, his fingers still in the dirt. "That they do." There was a weight to his words, the way he said it, something that settled deep in your bones, like he knew what was deep beneath your facade. You risked a glance at him, and when your eyes met, the air around you seemed to thicken. His gaze was too intense, too knowing, and it made your heart pound in your chest. "Joel, could you help me with these pots in the back?" your mother called, oblivious to the tension that had been steadily growing between you and him.

Joel blinked, breaking the moment. He stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. "Yeah, sure thing." As he walked away, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You couldn’t keep going like this.

Temptation lurks.

The engagement party was held at your house, the backyard filled with neighbors, friends, and family. You had helped set everything up, stringing lights across the trees, setting up tables with white linen. Your mother had been glowing all day, her happiness contagious to everyone but you.

You were standing near the bar, sipping on a drink when you saw him. Joel was talking to your uncle by the grill, his hand resting casually on the back of your mother’s chair. You watched as he laughed at something your uncle said, the sound of it rumbling low in his chest. He looked so at ease, so comfortable in this life he had built with your mom. But there was a crack in the facade, something that only you could see. The way his eyes flickered to you, even when he was mid-conversation. The way his smile faltered just for a moment when your gaze met his.

he feels it.

"You look lost in thought." You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice. Joel was beside you now, his presence like a shadow that followed you everywhere. You forced a smile. "Just thinking." He leaned in a little closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Care to share?" You shook your head, setting your glass down on the bar. "It’s nothing."

Joel’s hand brushed yours as he reached for his own drink, the touch so brief and fleeting, but it sent a jolt of electricity up your arm. He must have felt it too because he hesitated for a moment, his fingers lingering a second too long before he pulled away. "You seem different, sweetheart." he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to figure you out. sweetheart. it sounded so natural, meant just for you. "Not like yourself." He continues. You swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze. "Maybe I’ve changed. Or maybe you don't know me that well."

"Maybe," he said, his voice quieter now, more serious. "But I think I know you better than that." Before you could respond, your mother appeared, smiling brightly as she slipped her arm around Joel’s waist. "There you are!" she said, looking between the two of you. "I was wondering where you disappeared to."

Joel’s eyes never left yours. "Just catching up."

You excused yourself quickly, retreating inside the house, your chest tight with frustration and confusion. You needed air, space, anything to clear your head. But no matter how far you ran, you couldn’t escape the way Joel made you feel. The way you wanted to feel, despite everything.

everything beneath the surface.

The weeks leading up to the wedding were a blur. You kept your distance from Joel as much as you could, but it was impossible to avoid him completely. Every time you saw him, the tension between you grew stronger, pulling you in even when you wanted to push it all away. One evening, after a particularly long day of wedding planning, you found yourself alone on the back porch. The sky was dark, the stars hidden behind thick clouds. You sipped your drink slowly, trying to let the cool night air calm your nerves.

"You okay?"

You turned to find Joel standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. You hadn’t even heard him come out. You straightened up, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’m fine. Just needed some air." Joel stepped onto the porch, the floorboards creaking under his weight. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, his hands in his pockets as he looked out into the yard. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. "You’ve been avoidin’ me," he said quietly, his voice low and rough in the quiet night. Your stomach twisted, but you didn’t deny it. "It’s not like that."

"Then what’s it like?" You sighed, setting your drink down and standing up, needing to put some space between you. "Joel, this... it’s complicated. I can’t—"

"Complicated," he repeated, his tone tinged with frustration. He stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours. "It wasn’t complicated before, was it?"

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. His words hit you like a punch to the gut because they were true. It hadn’t always been complicated. Before your mother, before the engagement, there had been something between you and Joel that had lingered, unspoken, for years. Maybe it had been innocent at first, just a crush you’d had on the older man next door. But it had evolved into something else—something dangerous.

"Joel," you whispered, shaking your head, trying to regain control of the conversation, but he was already too close. His presence overwhelmed you, drowning out the rational part of your brain that screamed for you to walk away.

"You feel it too, don’t you?" His voice was almost a whisper now, and the way his eyes bore into yours made it impossible to look away. "I’ve seen the way you look at me, baby." You swallowed hard, your pulse pounding in your ears. "This isn’t fair," you managed, your voice breaking. "You’re marrying my mom, Joel." He winced, as if the words had physically hurt him, but he didn’t back away. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "I know I shouldn’t feel this way. Goddamn it, I tried not to. But I can’t help it, baby, Iㅡ" You took a step back, trying to create some distance, but Joel followed, his gaze never leaving yours. His hand reached out, brushing your arm, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "Don’t—"

"I’m sorry," he murmured, his hand dropping, but his eyes were still fixed on you. "I didn’t mean for this to happen. Should've been ya."

"Then why did it happen?" you asked, your voice breaking with the weight of the question. "Why are you doing this, Joel? Why are you marrying her?" He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "It’s not what you think."

"Then tell me," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. "Tell me why you’re with her when—"

"When I want you," Joel finished for you, the rawness in his voice making your heart ache. The admission hung between you, heavy and undeniable. You wanted to pretend you hadn’t heard it, that it didn’t mean anything, but it did. It meant everything.

Your breath hitched as you stared up at him, the world tilting on its axis. You felt the pull between you, that magnetic force that had always been there, but now it was more dangerous than ever. It wasn’t just some unspoken tension anymore. It was real, out in the open, threatening to tear everything apart. "Joel, this isn’t right," you said, your voice trembling, even though your heart screamed at you to move closer to him. "It can’t happen. Not like this."

"I know," he said, stepping closer, his voice barely a rasp. His hand reached for yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "But that doesn’t change how I feel." You pulled your hand away, the loss of contact almost painful. "You have to stop," you whispered, your throat tight. "You have to marry her. You can’t do this to her." The agony in his eyes was unbearable. "You think I don’t know that?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your pulse racing. "Then why are you doing this?"

Joel’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked away, like he couldn’t bear to face the truth. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost broken. "I thought I could love her the way she deserves. I thought... if I just tried hard enough, I could make it work." Your heart ached for him, for your mother, for yourself. "But you don’t, do you?"

His silence was answer enough.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay strong. "You need to go through with the wedding, Joel. My mom... she loves you. She’s happy."

"I know," he murmured, the weight of his guilt evident in his voice. "But what about you? What do you want?" The question hung in the air, suffocating you. What did you want? You wanted him, but not like this. Not in a way that would destroy everything around you. Not in a way that would hurt your mother, who had already been through enough pain. "I want my mom to be happy," you said finally, even though the words felt like they were tearing you apart. "That’s all." even if it was a lie.

Joel stared at you, his expression unreadable, before he finally nodded. "Yeah," he said softly. "Me too." He stepped back then, creating the distance you desperately needed. "I’ll do the right thing," he said, his voice low and resolute. "For her." he wouldn't believe himself either.

You nodded, unable to trust your voice to say anything else. The weight of the moment settled over you both, heavy and oppressive. Without another word, Joel turned and walked back into the house, leaving you standing alone on the porch, your heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

It was all ready to collapse.

The wedding day approached faster than you had anticipated, each moment feeling like a countdown to an inevitable disaster. You tried to bury your feelings, to focus on helping your mom with the final touches, but the weight of what had been left unspoken between you and Joel hung over everything. You hadn’t spoken to him since that night on the porch, and the tension gnawed at you.

The morning of the wedding was bright and warm, the sun filtering through the lace curtains in your bedroom. You stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the soft fabric of your bridesmaid’s dress, trying to shake the growing sense of dread that settled in your chest.

You wanted to be happy for your mom—she looked radiant, glowing in her wedding dress, and she deserved this moment. She deserved love, peace, after the years of struggle she’d endured. But underneath your forced smiles and quiet congratulations, you couldn’t stop thinking about Joel. About his eyes when he looked at you, about the unspoken words still hanging between you.

Downstairs, the house sung with excitement, guests gathering for the ceremony. You could hear the faint sounds of laughter and music, the clinking of glasses as the day unfolded. But it all felt so distant, like you were watching it from the outside, detached from the joy that filled the air.

Just as you were about to head downstairs, there was a soft knock at your door.

You froze, your heart leaping into your throat. You already knew who it was before you even opened the door. Joel stood there, looking as conflicted as you felt. He was dressed in a suit, but the usually rugged man looked uncomfortable in the formal attire. His hair was neatly combed, but there was still that familiar edge to him—rough, worn, and undeniably Joel.

He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you, his dark eyes clouded with something you couldn’t quite name. "You look beautiful."

"You shouldn’t be here," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I know," he said, his voice low. "But I had to see you. Before—"

"Before what?" you interrupted, your hands trembling. "Before you marry my mom?" Joel’s jaw tightened, and he took a step closer. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice barely audible. "For all of this. For... for everything I’ve put you through." Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. "You have to go through with it, Joel. You promised her."

"I know," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor. "But I can’t stop thinking about you." The rawness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, but you forced yourself to stay strong. "You don’t get to do this now," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Not today." Joel’s hand reached for yours, but you pulled away, stepping back. "Don’t," you warned. "Please don’t make this harder than it already is." He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes filled with regret, before he finally nodded. "I’m sorry," he said again, his voice breaking. "I’ll... I’ll go."

You watched as he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall, each one like a nail in the coffin of what could have been.

Unbeneath.

The wedding was beautiful. The flowers were perfect, the music soft and sweet, and your mother’s face glowed with happiness as she walked down the aisle. Joel stood at the altar, looking handsome and calm, the picture of a man ready to commit to a life with her.

But you saw the cracks beneath the surface. You saw the tension in Joel’s shoulders, the way his jaw clenched as your mother approached him with a radiant smile. You knew he was trying to hold it together, trying to play the part of the perfect groom. But deep down, you could see it—he wasn’t entirely there.

Standing as a bridesmaid near the altar, you forced yourself to smile, to focus on your mother’s joy. But it was like watching a car crash in slow motion. The weight of what Joel had said to you that morning still clung to you, heavy and suffocating. As the officiant began to speak, your heart pounded in your chest. The words felt hollow, echoing in your mind. The vows of eternal love, of commitment, of being faithful—it all felt like a lie. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to stay focused, trying to hold on for your mother’s sake.

But then Joel glanced at you.

It was brief—just a flicker of his eyes in your direction, but it was enough to make your breath catch. His gaze was filled with conflict, guilt, and something else you couldn’t name. And in that moment, you knew—he was thinking about you. Even here, even now, when he was supposed to be pledging his life to your mother.

Time seemed to slow as the officiant asked Joel to recite his vows. He hesitated for just a second too long, the pause so subtle that no one else seemed to notice. But you did. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between doing what was right and doing what he wanted.

"I, Joel, take you—" His voice caught, barely noticeable, but you saw it. He cleared his throat, trying again. "I take you, to be my wife."

Each word felt like a stone dropping into a bottomless well.

Your mother smiled at him, tears of joy in her eyes. She was completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface. She believed in this moment, believed in the future they were about to share. And you hated that you couldn’t give her that same belief, that you couldn’t share in her happiness.

When the ceremony ended and the guests erupted in applause, you clapped along with them, your hands numb and mechanical. The celebration carried on around you—people laughing, clinking glasses, congratulating the happy couple—but you felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath you.

At the reception, you stayed at the far end of the garden, away from the crowd. The string lights twinkled above, casting a soft glow on the scene, but the beauty of it all felt distant, unreachable. You sipped your champagne, staring blankly at the dance floor where Joel and your mother swayed together. They looked perfect, like a picture from a magazine. But you knew better.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Joel came up beside you, his presence like a storm cloud looming on the horizon. His tie was loosened, the top button of his shirt undone, and there was a weariness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

"You disappeared on me," he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the music and chatter. You didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes on the dance floor. "Just needed a moment." He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I didn’t mean for things to get this way. Please believe me, I didn’t knowㅡ didn't know she'd fall." You finally turned to face him, the rawness of his words cutting into you. "Well, they are and she did so.."

Joel looked at you with an intensity that made your heart ache, the same look he’d had earlier that morning. "I can’t stop thinking about you, baby." he repeated softly, his voice rough with emotion. "Even now. Especially now."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. "You need to stop," you whispered, your voice trembling. "You made your choice. You married her. I don't even know what your plan was."

"I know," he said, his voice tight with frustration. "I know what I did, but that doesn’t change what I feel. It doesn’t change this." He gestured between the two of you, his eyes pleading. "I never wanted to hurt you, or your mom. But... I can’t pretend anymore. Not with you." Your chest tightened, the pain almost unbearable. "You have to pretend, Joel. You have to. For her." He stared at you, his expression torn between guilt and desire. "And what about you? What about us?"

"There is no us, Joel. Never was." You said the words like poison in your mouth. "There can’t be." Joel’s hand reached out, his fingers brushing your arm, and the familiar spark shot through you, the one you’d tried so hard to ignore. His touch lingered for a moment before he pulled away, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"You’re right," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "There can’t be." But the words felt like a lie the moment they left his lips because despite everything, despite the weight of his new vows, you saw him lean in closer. His breath mingled with yours, and his eyes-filled with guilt, longing, and desperation bore into you. His lips inched toward yours, the world around you fading into a blur of muted colors and distant laughter. People were far enough to not see you, but that didn't make it any easier. Your heart pounded, your breath shaky as you felt the warmth of his body close to yours. You knew this was wrong, that you should push him away, but your body betrayed you. The yearning, the suppressed need that had lingered between you for years, finally pushed through the cracks.

With one last glance into your glassy eyes, as if seeking permission-or maybe forgivenessㅡ Joel closed the distance.

His lips intertwined with yours, soft and rough at the same time, filled with everything that had been left unsaid. You froze for a moment, the shock of it crashing through you like a tidal wave. But then something snapped inside you, and you kissed him back. All of the restraint, the pain, the buried feelings surged to the surface, spilling into that one kiss.

His hands cupped your face gently, his touch tender despite the intensity of the moment. The world around you ceased to exist. It was just you and Joel, a stolen moment in a sea of impossibilities. His lips moved against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own, as if both of you knew this would be the only time you'd have. As if the kiss had to say everything words couldn't

But then, just as quickly as it had begun, reality crashed back in. You broke away, gasping for air, your chest heaving. The warmth of his touch still lingered on your skin. Neither of you moved, neither of you spoke, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. Finally, Joel stepped back, his face hardening as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I’m sorry," he muttered, though you knew the apology wouldn’t fix anything.

You watched as he walked away, back to the party, back to your mother—the woman he had chosen. The woman he was supposed to love. Your heart broke all over again as you realized that no matter what you felt for him, no matter what he felt for you, it would never be enough to change the reality of the situation.

And so, you stood there, the cold night air brushing against your skin, watching as Joel rejoined the celebration. The sounds of laughter and music filled the garden, but all you could hear was the silence between you and the man you could never have.

Was one night really that important?

You stood there, alone in the shadows, the air growing colder around you. The question gnawed at you, refusing to let go. What harm could it do? One night. One moment where none of thisㅡ none of the guilt, the secrecy, or the heartbreak mattered. No one would know. No one had to.

Would it really hurt?

The thought was reckless, dangerous even, but it lingered, growing more persistent with each passing second. Your mind kept replaying the way Joel had kissed you, the heat and desperation in his touch, the wayyou had kissed him back without hesitation, as if your bodies knew what your hearts refused to admit. You hadn't wanted to stop. And he hadn't either.

Your breath quickened as you thought of him, standing there, so close you could still feel the faint echo of his warmth, his scent, the way he had made you feel as though the world had disappeared, as if nothing else mattered but the f you, in that moment.

No. You couldn't. You couldn't do this to your mother. You couldn't betray her like that, not even for one night, no matter how desperately you wanted him. But the longing was still there, a dark ache deep in your chest, making it harder and harder to ignore. You let out a quiet, shuddering breath and looked back toward the reception toward Joel, who was now standing by the bar, talking with a few guests. The smile he gave them was easy, practiced, but you could still see the shadows under his eyes. You could still see the guilt that gnawed at him from the inside.

What if nobody knew? What if this one mistake, this one selfish moment, stayed just between the two of you? What if you could find a way to make it work-just for one night, just to feel what it was like to truly have him without the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders?

You swallowed hard. you could still taste his kiss on your lips. You could still feel the burn of his fingertips against your skin.

But then, you remembered your mother's face. Her warmth. Her trust. She was so happy, so completely in love. The thought of betraying her, even just for a moment, tore you apart. Could you really live with that kind of guilt?

No.

Butㅡ

You closed your eyes and exhaled, trying to quiet the storm inside you, trying to remind yourself of what was right. This wasn't a fleeting desireㅡ it was a devastating disaster waiting to happen

And yet, your body ached with the need to be close to Joel again. The yearning, the intensity of that single kiss and one pathetic touch, it was too much to ignore. You had given in once, but you couldn't go down that path again.

You took a step away from the garden, retreating into the shadows. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe one night wasn't worth it. But then you heard his voice, low and familiar, cutting through the noise. He was closer than you expected.

"Hey."

You froze, your heart stuttering in your chest. You didn't need to turn around to know it was Joel. His voice was all too familiar now. He stepped into the shadows with you, the dim light casting sharp lines across his face, making him appear even more worn, more conflicted. "Iㅡ" He hesitated, his voice thick with emotion. "I shouldn't have kissed you earlier. I know I shouldn't have."

You didn't say anything. You couldn't. You didn’t regret it. You wish it never ended.

Joel's gaze softened, and he stepped closer, but you kept your distance. He seemed to notice the space between you, the invisible barrier that neither of you wanted to cross but couldn't help but feel. "I don't know what to do anymore," he said. "I just know I don't want to lose you." His words shattered what little resolve you had left.

And in that moment, everything that had been building between you, the unspoken, the impossibleㅡ became undeniable. It was wrong. It was selfish. But here he was, standing before you, asking you for something you both knew you could never truly have. And for a moment, it didn't matter that it was wrong

You let out a shaky breath, your voice barely a whisper. "One night," you murmured. "Just... one night."

Joel froze. His eyes searched yours, and for a second, it seemed as if he might say no. But then his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him, his lips catching yours in a kiss that was deeper this time, hungry, urgent. There were no more words between you, just the frantic need to close the distance between your hearts, to feel something real, even if it was only for one night.

As his hands wrapped around you, pulling you closer, there was a fleeting moment of clarity,a brief flash of the consequences. But it was swallowed up by the heat of the kiss, the intoxicating feeling of finally giving in to the desire that had been burning between you for years,

It was wrong. It was a mistake

But as Joel's lips moved against yours again, you forgot about everything else. Joel’s hand slid to your wrist before you could pull away, a firm, steady grip that tugged you gently toward him, toward the quiet behind the chaos. The party’s laughter and chatter were left in the distance, fading as you followed him, the night air thick with tension.

"We should go to a room," he whispered, his voice hoarse and urgent, almost pleading. "The party still has a few more hours before it ends. Don't worry, baby. It'll all be okay. She won’t even notice we're gone." You looked at him, heart racing, mind reeling, torn between the gravity of his words and the electric heat still burning in your chest from the kiss. He was leading you, his hand wrapped around your wrist, guiding you through the garden, toward the back of the house where the guest rooms lay hidden behind thick foliage and shadows.

You followed, not because you were sure, but because the pull between you was undeniable. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, and maybe you didn’t want to. His pace quickened as he sensed your hesitation, his breath hitching, more desperate now, as though he needed you to understand. "We can’t keep doing this," he said, his tone a mix of anger and longing. "We can’t keep pretending like we don’t feel it. This—" he glanced back at you, "this is what we've been needing for so long."

You could barely catch your breath as you stepped into the hallway of the house, away from the party. The muffled noise of music and chatter was barely a memory now. The quiet was heavier, more intimate. And when you finally stopped, your back pressed against the closed door of a guest room, you both stood there in the dim room, hearts pounding like they were about to burst.

His hands were still on you, strong but gentle, but this time, they didn’t move to pull you in. Instead, he lingered, his fingers barely grazing the skin of your arms as though he was afraid of breaking something fragile—something that might never be repaired.

"Joel..." Your voice was soft, porcelain, and it trembled in the stillness of the room. "Please.." you can hear him mumble a soft 'fuck' before his lips crash onto the exposed skin on your neck, his hands roaming your body like he's been waiting to do this for a thousand years. he quickly manages to discard the jacket of his tuxedo and unzip the back of your dress, your hair that was neatly pulled up now down on your shoulders. "You're so beautiful, baby. Always have beenㅡ god, I was so stupid not doin' this earlier." Your mind reeled, cunt pulsimg. You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breath, trying to steady your pulse. the fire between you crackled and burned hotter, and for tonight, you gave into it.

"Joel, please, justㅡ touch me, please.." he nods his head. "fuck, yeah, okay. You sound so pretty when you're desperate." you shudder at his words, a soft moan slipping from your lips. " 'm gonna fuck you tonight 'n make up for all of the nights i didn't." that was a promise.

you were now almost fully naked, the only thing covering your body was a soft, laced, white set you had on. "Pretty girl." he begins to discard those items from you too, but removes only the bra, leaving the white panties on. you look up at him, his presence swallowing you whole. without words you reach our hands out, promptly placing them on the hem of his pants and starting to unbuckle the belt he had on. you fingers fumble from the tension, but you finally do it. you trail you fingers onto his abdomen, drawing small hearts before you hear him growl. he picks you up swiftly and throws you on the bed settled in the middle of the room. his pants come undone so he pulls them off fully. "Spread your legs, baby." you do, your pussy spilling over the lace that barely covered anything. his rough fingertips trace your clothed folds, making you look away. "Look at me. Look at me, tell me what you want."

"Want you, Joel.." he hums. he pulls the panties to the side, eyes fixed on the way your cunt glistened under the dim light. its not long before he gets on his knees between your legs. "sweet girl. been dyin' to know what's inside that pretty head of yours when you look at me like that." His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. "you know how much i had to hold back? wanted to ravage you, toㅡ" he trails "to destroy you. make you beg for me to stop..." joel leans down, his rough beard tickling your neck, drawing a soft moan from between your lips.

"Sure you want this, darlin?" Nipping at your bottom lip, he waits for your signal. "So sure." This is it, the moment you had only dreamed of. that's when his lips crashed against yours again, his mustache pricking your skin. you kissed back, hungry, so hungry like you've never felt before.

"want that pretty pussy wrapped around my cock." you whimper pathetically at his dirty words. dirty. dirty like his touch that left your skin tainted, dirty like how you know you'll feel after all of this is over.

but you like dirty. you love dirty.

joel pressed himself against you, his briefs now fully off. fuck, he was huge. his leaking tip was pressing against your folds. "so wet, baby. all this for me? c'mon, let me hear you say it."

" 's all for y-ou, Joel ㅡ" you choked back a moan, pushing yourself back onto his bulge. he laughs, tilting his head to the side slightly. be drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down again and again, as if he didn't make you wait long enough for it. after he thinks its sufficient, he starts to push inside, causing you to bite onto your forearm and shut your eyes as tears welled up in them. "atta girlㅡ you can take it. you're a big girl, ain't ya?" he teased. "My little girl, takin' my cock so well."

by the time he was fully inside, you were a mess, tears stained your cheeks, drool at the corners of your mouth covered in smudged lipstick ㅡ you were in a dream for sure. joel moves, at first, slowly as to let you adjust. he's patient. praises trail onto you as he kisses little pecks on the small of your back. "That's it, darlin'. take it all." your body trembles from every breath and touch of his.

his pace picks up, skin hitting yours roughly, fingers tangled in your hair and his other palm flush against your belly. "feel me there, sweet girl?"

"I- yes, yes, please, p-please ㅡ " You were hanging on the mattress for dear life, your brain foggy. nothing made sense but this. Joel buried deep inside of you. he fucked you hard, and deep, your stomach churning at every hit. his calloused hands gripped tightly at you hips, his moves now more ragged.

"shitㅡ whish I married you, baby.." he says through grunts, palms still gripping your hips. "Wish it were you there in that dress. 'm sorryㅡ" you cry a little louder as you feel his dick twitch inside of you. "let me put a baby in you, sweet girl, we can run away andㅡ fuck, run away and be happy. have our own little family." your eyes roll to the back of your head. "Joel, Iㅡ"

"You'd want that? imma make you a mommaㅡ my pretty wife, god."

" 'm s-so close, Joel, please "

"I know, baby, I know. Y-You go ahead." With a few more snaps of his hips, you're both coming, bodies writhing, as his head falls upon your chest. For a long, heavy moment, the world outside the room seemed to vanish. All that was left was the two of you, in that silent little room.

Joel pulls out, making you moan. He watches intently as his seed drips out of you, licking his lips as a palm rubs your lower belly. He hopes it'll stick.

[princessbellecerise]

Rotten Soil, Rotten Fruit

Summary ✩ You are Alicent Hightower’s pride and joy. Sweet and innocent, you’re the apple of the Queen’s eye more than her own children are. But how will she react when you slip into the hands of her enemies?

Warnings ✩ Mentions of pregnancy, birth, reader is a very distant relative of Alicent, mentions of religion and sa (but it doesn’t happen), Alicent being bastardphobic

You were not from her womb, but the Queen loved you like a daughter anyways.

You were good, sweet and kind with a gentle heart. Mayhaps the fact that you did not come from her body was the reason you possessed such traits, for you seemed to be everything her children were not, even though she often prayed for them to be.

Maybe it was the fact that you came from her mother’s side, a distant relative but blood no matter how thin it might’ve been. The one that survived the fire wiping out your family, though you had been too young to remember such a thing.

You were a connection and a reminder to a side that Alicent hadn’t known for years. A connection to Lady Alicent—now lost to her—who was sweet and pure once, and now everyday you reminded her of what she had been. You were everything that Alicent wanted and more, and yet, you did not belong to her.

Not forever, anyways.

You were at the age where it was considered necessary for a young lady to wed, but Alicent would be lying if she said that she was ready to give you away. She already had to suffer once in marrying her other sweet daughter to Aegon, and now that the time had come both Viserys and Otto were pushing to do the same for you.

“It is time the girl begins a life of her own, Alicent,” Viserys had said. “She cannot stay under you forever.”

“She must wed now, or risk remaining a spinster. Helaena was wed at three and ten, Y/N is five years past that. It is time, Alicent.” Her father had reminded her. And then he added, “Though I am sure if it were up to you, daughter, keeping Y/N a spinster would most please you.”

And it would’ve. Alicent wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not again. To watch another person she loved be ripped away and forced to endure a fate like her. It almost as painful watching it happen than it was to experience it herself. Painful to see her girls become nothing more than a womb to spill retched seed into.

Please, not her. Not yet is what she prayed to the Mother every night.

Prayed that you’d be spared if not now, then at least a little longer. Alicent needed time to cope. She needed time to grieve your absence from her as well, but the goddess did not listen.

In fact, it seemed that the Mother loved you more than Alicent herself did, because she was intent on taking you away. Intent on seeing Alicent suffer, as if she hadn’t enough already.

She would’ve forgive the Mother for all of her pain and suffering had it been anyone but him. Had it been anyone except Jacaerys Velaryon that ended up leading you to the fate of motherhood, then Alicent would have rejoiced, truly. Because it would’ve meant that the gods may have been cruel, but at least they didn’t outright hate Alicent.

Be as it may though, all of her fears came to fruitation in the early days of 132 AC.

The Prince Jacaerys and his mother had flown to court on account of defending his younger brother’s claim to Driftmark, a usurpation that Alicent herself had put into motion.

She’d heard the complaints of Vaemond Velaryon and she along with her father agreed that Driftmark needed to go towards someone of his blood. Someone with true Velaryon roots, and not that brood of bastards Rhaenyra had cooked up.

The Princess had decorated them like cakes, putting on the ultimate farce as they pranced around in Velaryon clothes and colors.

Alicnet herself hadn’t been there to greet them upon their arrival to the Red Keep, her own pettiness forbidding her to step foot into that courtyard. But from what she had heard from you, someone she had sent in her place, Rhaenyra had truly outdone herself.

“They all arrived on their dragons and in such nice fashion, too! The patterns on Princess Rhaenyra’s dresses were just beautiful, your grace. And oh, the dragons! They were magnificent, e-especially Prince Jacaerys’ mount,” You had gushed.

Alicent should’ve known then that was something was wrong. The way you looked, the way you smiled when you mentioned Rhaenyra’s spawn didn’t sit right with her even then. She thought it odd how much you stuttered when speaking of Jacaerys but Alicent had just chalked it up to your girlish excitement for new visitors.

Oh how she wished that she hadn’t.

How she wished that she hadn’t been so blind, blinder than her dear husband and son not to notice what was going on in front of her.

Alicent hadn’t even noticed until all of it smacked her in the face. She hadn’t noticed all of the stares, all of the lingering touches and the things that were being done in the shadows.

She was still recovering from the loss and the humiliation of losing Vaemond and Driftmark, all because her husband had decided to crawl out of bed and put himself through immerse pain just to defend Lucerys’ claim.

Alicent had been so distracted by the failure of her plan that she didn’t even know you were seeing the Prince Jacaerys, sneaking behind her back and meeting up with him in secret.

Had she been in her usual state of mind, she would’ve heard the whispers from the maids. Heard about how he’d walk with you in the gardens, show you obvious favor by gifting you flowers and jewels. Alicent had noticed those, but she had assumed that they were from other suitors, not Rhaenyra’s bastard Prince.

You never said otherwise either, and you had many suitors vying for you hand—and for the favor of the Queen. It could’ve come from any one of them but never once did you mention it was him until it was too late. Until one day, you had no choice.

It had been only two moons since the petition when the maids came running to her and told Alicent that you hadn’t bled. Of course, still nursing the fall out from Rhaenyra, Alicent was taken off guard by this new information. This new revelation that included you possibly being in a scandal. After all, everyone knew that missing one’s moon blood was a clear sign of pregnancy, but Alicent hadn’t wanted to believe that at first.

“What are you saying?” She had asked slowly, as though she were a fool that needed it spelled out. “Speak it, and say it plainly Talia. Now.”

Briefly, Alicent was reminded of the time Viserys had uttered the same words, demanding that her Lord father explain what he meant by Rhaenyra being in a pleasure house. Alicent hadn’t understood his willful ignorance then. After all, it did not take a scholar to figure out what her father was trying to say. But now, as she stared at the nervous maid in front of her, she understood Viserys more than she ever had.

What was Talia trying to say, exactly?

“Your Grace, Lady Y/N has not received her moon blood for two months now,” She explained after taking a deep breath. “And furthermore, she has shown signs of…sickness in the mornings. Sore breasts, and her clothes do not not fit her anymore either. Some say…well they say that Lady Y/N has been seen visiting a man late at night. They say…they say that she has been having an affair with the Prince Jacaerys.”

Alicent blinked, and suddenly the Queen found herself standing in your room, staring at the evidence of what Talia had said, or rather, the lack of.

True to her word, there was no blood on your sheets even though the usual date of when you bled had long passed. The sheets were as white as snow, and Alicent could tell by the way they were crumpled they hadn’t been changed, either.

Rage, white hot and blinding, creeped it way into her bones.

“What has happened? Were you raped?” Was Alicent’s immediate thought. She was furious, thinking that he must have taken you in a way that you did not want to warrant something like this.

Alicent would never, ever believe that you would willingly lie with that bastard, so that must’ve been the only explanation. Her sweet girl…Talia had been wrong. It wasn’t an affair at all.

“No! No! I wanted to, I swear it, your grace!”

Alicent didn’t believe you. Even as you blubbered and tried to explain the details of what transpired to this, she didn’t believe that something like this could happen without you being forced. Ignoring your protests that you absolutely weren’t, she felt the heat of a thousand suns coat her voice as she exclaimed, “That bastard! I will have him exiled for this!”

Never before had she spoken a threat with such hatred. Never before had the Queen dared to say such treasons out loud. In all her years, Alicent had never spoken of the Velaryon boy’s parentage in anything but riddles. And even then, it was hushed whispers and jests coated in honey that left her mouth.

Never before had the plain accusation left her lips, wording clear as daylight as she seethed. “I will…I have him hanged! I will feed his body to the dogs myself for what he has done!”

For once, Alicent wanted revenge. She would punish that bastard to the most extreme that she could; make him pay for what he had done to you. Her heart ached as she stared at you.

How could she have been so stupid? How could you have been harmed in a such a way and how had she not even noticed? This was her fault, Alicent thought with horror. With a heavy feeling growing in her chest, she realized that she was too caught up in her own feelings, too caught up in politicking to take care of her domestic affairs.

And now because of her ignorance, because of her greed she had been punished. You had been raped, defiled and disgraced by a monster.

And where was she when you needed her? Where was she when you were taken no doubt against your will, probably terrified as the bastard spawn nipped at your tender flesh.

Alicent felt so sick she could hardly breathe. Had her senses not already been dialed to eleven, she would have missed the way you began to cry harder, shaking your head as you protested,

“Please, your Grace, don’t! You…you can’t! Jacaerys loves me, and he would never. You can’t send him away! You can’t hurt him!” The sound of your wailing was almost enough to make Alicent begin to crumple. In fact, she felt her knees shake as she covered her mouth, pity flooding her veins as she shook her head.

“He told you that? He told you that he loved you after dishonoring you?” She asked in disbelief. Just when she thought that it couldn’t get any worse, her poor girl now defended her defiler and had been told lies about how he truly felt. Words meant to keep you quiet, she had no doubt. Telling you that he loved you so that you wouldn’t see his acts for what they really were.

“Y/N, any man who does such a thing could never love you. To take a maiden by force, and to disgrace you by impregnating you with a bastard is not love. Look at me!”

Alicent wasn’t expecting to see the way you immediately changed. Instead of crying, you became panicked as you shook your head.

“No, no, my babe isn’t a bastard,” You insisted tearfully. “We are married your grace, I swear it upon the Gods themselves! In the Sept of Seven Prince Jacaerys married me and Princess Rhaenyra was our witness. You have to believe me, Queen Alicent! We did everything the right way! He never forced me and he loves me, I swear it!”

Now it felt someone had slapped Alicent across the face. She stared, dumbfounded as you revealed this information and it was like the entire world stopped spinning.

The Queen regent trembled as her knees gave out. She had to take a seat on the edge of your bed to stop herself from collapsing as she became hysterical.

“She knew? Rhaenyra knew about this?” Was all that she could manage to get out. Of course. Of course she should’ve known that Rhaenyra was behind something like this. And not only that, she had sanctioned it, a feat that made Alicent want to throw up.

The entire time that she had hosted Rhaenyra in her home, the entire time that she played nice and allowed her bastards to eat her food, sleep in her beds, Rhaenyra had thrown her hospitality in her face and allowed her son to defile the one good thing Alicent had left.

You, so sweet and kind, who probably did not even understand the things he had done to you, had been ruined. Right under her nose, her only salvation in this world had been stolen away and breeded like some common whore. Married with no ceremony which Alicent wanted to attend. That she had dreamed of having for you ever since you had ended up in her care.

And worse that than, you now carried a child. The trueborn heir to Jacaerys Velaryon. An heir to the Iron Throne.

“You…”

Alicent would’ve rather it had been a bastard. Gods, she could have handled a bastard. She could’ve gotten rid of it, or given it away to save you some shame. But this…harming your trueborn child would be an act of treason.

For all of Alicent misdoings, this was the one where truly, Viserys would have her hanged if she harmed the babe in your belly. There would be no mercy for her. Not this time. And for first time time since she had become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Alicent felt really and truly helpless.

All the power in the world couldn’t help her overcome this. It couldn’t save you from being taken from her in quite literally the worst way imaginable. She knew that one day it would happen, but this…for it happen to like this…For you to be stolen by Rhaenyra of all people…

“Oh, my sweet girl.”

She collapsed as you sank to her feet sobbing, allowing you to rest your head on her lap as you cried. Alicent shakily brought a hand up to stroke your head, trying to soothe you even though she herself felt numb.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Rhaenyra had betrayed her, once again lying straight to her face. But this time her step daughter had done something that could never be undone. Sanctioned a marriage between you and her bastard, witnessed it before all of the Gods and defiled you and the holy temple with such an act.

The sept, the very place where Alicent used to spend time with you, used to take you to pray when all her other children had no taste for it, was tainted by her sins.

We are Targaryen’s, we do not worship the Gods of Westeros Viserys had once told her.

But you did. She did. And it made sense. It made sense why the two of you were the only decent people left in this dishonorable world, and it was because you worshiped the only Gods that taught true honor and decency.

Yes, yes, Alicent had thought for so long that that was the reason her other children were so wicked, as was their father, their sister, and their nephews. They did not answer to the same Gods as you did, did not have the same respect for honor and sacrifice as you both did.

And because of that, because of her unwavering faith, it that meant that as much as she wanted to, as much as she wished that this was all a fairytale and she’d be able to annul this farce of a marriage and free you from the bloody shackles that still had her chained, Alicent couldn’t.

You were now bound to House Targaryen as she was, first by oath and now by order of blood and seed. Just like she was, you were forever a prisoner of this miserable keep, never to leave those who were served but never served themselves.

She wanted to talk to the idiot Septon who had done this. Who had officiated this…this vile farce. When Alicent found out who it was, she’d have their head for it.

But for now, all she could do was take your crying figure into her arms, stroking the cheeks that were drowned with tears. Come morning, she would make sure that they were gone but for now, she let them flow, watching as they ruined her green dress.

“Does he know?” She managed to ask quietly, waiting until you were at least done sobbing to question if Jacaerys, the father of your babe, was even informed. “Does he know what your sins have resulted in? That he has saddled you with a child?”

Alicent wasn’t even when shocked when you nodded your head.

“Yes. He and Princess Rhaenyra both know,” You hiccuped. Once again, the Queen saw red.

Of course. She’d wager that everyone knew expect for her. Every one of them…they had played Alicent for a fool. Pulled the ultimate stunt and now they were no doubt laughing behind her back. That was probably exactly what Rhaenyra wanted. At the moment, the Princess was probably laughing at Alicent, smug that she had once again managed to blindside her.

“Always the fool, aren’t you?” She imagined Rhaenyra saying. And she was right.

“My last living flower. My last sweet tasting fruit. You are now rotted as well,” Alicent grieved. You did not quite understand what she meant, but Alicent did. She understood that she was indeed a fool.

She was a fool to think that anything good could ever grow from her womb, and she was even more foolish to think that you, who was planted in the soil and grown by her love would be any different.

No matter what she did, the outcome was the same. One way or another, her flowers wilted, her sweet fruits decayed. From her womb or from her love, nothing good ever came of a child from Alicent Hightower, and this was only further proof.

Alicent wasn’t sure if she was more angry at Jacaerys or at herself. She wasn’t sure if the guilt she felt was for not protecting you, or because one way or another she knew that this was her fault.

Even if she hadn’t sent you that day out of her own pettiness and all but planted the seeds for this to happen, then it would still be fate that you would end up corrupted.

Alicent had been plagued with the curse of her children turning out that way since Aegon was born. She had passed it from child to child, all the way down to her youngest Daeron and she was a fool to think you, who she loved as her own, could escape it.

For a while, she had truly believed that you had. From the moment you were brought to her, barely a babe of two, and up until now, Alicent thought you escaped the curse.

After all, you were good and you were kind and she had raised you, so that had to mean something, right?

But now Alicent realized that all good things came to an end. Just because it hadn’t happened didn’t mean that it wouldn’t. The Gods had time above all else. They would see to it that every prophecy would become fulfilled; no matter how long it took. And now, everything Alicent had ever feared came to light in that moment.

You were indeed still rotten fruit because you were grown from her rotten soil. How could she expect you to be any different, how could she be so foolish?

She should’ve expected this. She should’ve known since that first conversation that it would happen.

But she had turned an eye and let her hopes blind her. And because of that, you now paid the price of being loved by her.

You too, were now corrupted.

—

Your pregnancy was a miserable thing. You were constantly sick from the day that you told Alicent, always hunched over one bucket or another and miserablly hot.

Alicent remembered that feeling. Remembered how she never felt comfortable, how she always felt like she was burning alive as the fires of her dragon babes licked at her womb. She knew it was the same for you, and she pitied you above all else.

The blood of the dragon ran hot, and it wasn’t easy carrying it. Often times, Alicent would find you indoors, being fanned by the largest that they had or on the days where your body temperature climbed really high, soaking in a bath with cold ice and water.

It was heartbreaking, really, to see how you almost identically suffered as she did, but unlike her you didn’t seem to mind. You were always so happy, so optimistic even when your husband’s devil spawn was burning you alive.

You were never without a smile as you flaunted about the Red Keep, giggling happily with the other young ladies. There was always a hand on the swollen bump that had grown larger than you, another reminder to Alicent that it shouldn’t be there.

It was far too soon for a girl your age to be carrying but of course, no one cared. They were all too occupied and fascinated with the future heir and Queen of Westeros to notice how this pregnancy was slowly killing you—even your so called husband.

He never missed a chance to show how much he loved you and adored the babe growing your swollen belly. But Alicent figured that if it were true, he would’ve slipped you moon tea and saved you from this miserable fate.

Be as it may though, Jacaerys always seemed just as excited as you were, never too far away from his lady wife and his heir. He lingered like a shadow that was meant to consume you, casting you in a shade of darkness that took away from your light.

It always made Alicent sick to see the way he pretended to care about you, as if anyone could ever love you better than she had tried.

Yes, yes, Alicent firmly believed that she was the only one who truly had your best interests at heart, the only one who was there for you, and not the babe. She was the only one that believed that Y/N mattered more, which why when the day came and the spawn in your stomach decided to finally claw its way out of you, Alicent insisted on being in the room.

Nevermind that it was improper for the Queen to do such a thing, or that Rhaenyra was also there.

Alicent would suffer the whispers and the presence of her step daughter if it meant that she could be there, that she could hold your hand as you screamed and cried and labored for a babe that should never have been conceived.

She was there for you as your body stretched, making sure that you were well looked after and comfortable. More than once, she had wiped the sweat from your brow with her own handkerchief, had placed your hair in braids so you wouldn’t tear it out from the pain you were suffering. It hurt Alicent, it really did, as you cried and held onto her like her little girl.

“It’s too much. I can’t…I can’t…” Is what you constantly told the Maesters, and despite their encouragement, only Alicent knew that it was the truth.

Your body was not yet equipped to handle such things, too young and too weak to be bringing a babe into this world. Try as she might have, even Rhaenyra, your good mother as Alicent saltily recalled, could do nothing to soothe your pains. She held your hand and whispered stories of how she’d gone through something similar with Jacaerys, but it didn’t seem to help.

“The pain was the worst thing I’ve ever been through, but I did make it though. As will you sweetling. I promise,” Rhaenyra cooed and Alicent hated her presence even more when she found that she herself could not speak.

She could not offer you the same condolences or reassurance as Rhaenyra did, because with Aegon everything went quickly and without a fuss. Her other children were the same so Alicent herself had nothing to offer you beyond sweet empty words.

She hated Rhaenyra even more for being able to relate to you in such in a way, as it wasn’t her place. I am her mother, Alicent mentally snapped at her. You cannot take that from me as well.

When all was said in done though, she found herself putting away these jealous thoughts when it was time for you to push. Somehow, you had gathered the last of your strength and was able to sit up, squeezing both Rhaenyra and Alicent as the baby crowned.

“My sweet girl. My brave girl. You are doing so well, only a few more,” Alicent encouraged you, and the Queen fully believed that it was her words, not Rhaenyra’s, that gave you the courage finally squeeze the babe out.

“There! It’s a boy, Princess!”

Eveyone in the birthing room laughed and sighed of relief as the babe slipped out. Round faced and squalling, even Alicent was slightly overjoyed when she saw him; a beautiful babe with white hair and all of your features.

Alicent couldn’t even see the babes’ eyes yet, and everything was too fast, too emotional to check. But one thing that she knew for sure was that it was your babe, not his, and that made Alicent’s heart grow fonder than it ever had since she found out that you were with child.

Laughing slightly, the Queen stroked your hair as you sobbed and reached for you babe, getting the pleasure to witness the unbreakable bond of mother and child for the first time.

The two of you, so young and innocent, pressed against one another, bare skin to bare skin as you smiled down at your baby. The squeaking little thing immediately came to hush as his mother’s eyes laid upon him, innocent little creatures observing each other while Rhaenyra stood.

“I will go and bring Jacaerys,” The Princess said, unable to stop smiling as she glanced at her new heir.

Surely, the Princess was more than pleased with herself that the babe had inherited her coloring, but Alicent tried not to think about that. Whatever Rhaenyra felt, whatever the realm saw when they looked at this baby, only Alicent knew that he was yours through and through.

There was no amount of white hair or violet eyes that could take away from the fact that he was yours first. He was your blood, your pain.

As she finally realized this, Alicent decided that she could love this babe after all. He would be hers to spoil, her to protect as much as you used to be but he would not suffer the same fate as you had.

After all, your womb was not hers. It wasn’t stained with the sins of greed and hatred, and your children wouldn’t be born or grown from such things.

Alicent had made a mistake thinking that she would distance herself from the babe, afraid of bringing the same curse upon him by loving him and unwilling to accept anything that resembled that bastard.

But now that she saw how much he looked like you, how much he was you, she saw the truth.

Maybe her womb was rotten. Maybe it was too late for her. But the womb that this babe had come out was not cursed, and a flicker of hope rose in Alicent as she realized there was still a chance for him, and her.

Yes, yes. Perhaps the Gods had not been so cruel after all. Perhaps this too was a test, the final one for Alicent to prove that fate wasn’t inevitable. To prove that her destiny wasn’t to corrupt all innocent creatures in her care, and that she too could help nurture something into being great.

With you, with Healena, with Aemond, Aegon and Daeron she had failed; but not again. Alicent wouldn’t allow this babe to end up like all her children had. She would love him, she would protect him, and in time Alicent Hightower would prove that her love was not rotten.

She would prove that it did not poison everything she touched, but rather, it could be a beacon that one day guided this babe into being someone great.

If she failed, well then maybe her destiny was to never learn from her mistakes.

But as she looked at you, her sweet girl nursing her sweet little babe, Alicent became filled with hope.

She felt the strength that had left her years ago replenish itself. Her head cleared, her mind sharper than it had ever been. With everything in her, she was ready to fight again. To bare her teeth and claw her way to a new destiny.

Because now, she had another innocent to protect. This time for herself. Alicent had gotten it wrong not once, but five times, but this time around would be her redemption. This time around, it would be different. She would be different, and Alicent swore that upon the old Gods and the new.

[eevees-hobbies]

How the Hashira sleep with you and your 9-month-old between you

Author's Note: I was up at 2 AM last night writing in my notes app because this idea struck me. This is my first time writing headcanons, but as always, I’m inspired by some of the fantastic ideas of other content creators!

Content Warning: You have a child with your partner, and they sleep in bed with you. There is also a brief mention of breastfeeding. This will not be for you if you’re sensitive to those things. This is pure fluff.

How the Hashira sleep with you and your 9-month-old between you

Contains: Rengoku, Uzui, Iguro, Shinazugawa & Tomioka 

Kyojuro Rengoku 

Kyo was meant for this. There’s no reality in which Kyojuro doesn’t want to be a father to as many kids as you’re willing to give him. His arm is always wrapped around you both—having you and the baby in the same room as you all sleep, being able to provide comfort, body heat, and a sense of protection, brings him so much joy. 

Kyojuro wakes up periodically during the night to look at you both as you sleep. He will also pay extra attention to checking on your child, placing a large hand on their small frame and feeling the rise and fall of their chest; he’ll smile to himself—his child is happy, healthy, and safe. 

Rengoku is also great at soothing the baby when they wake up: “Shhh, little one. Let’s let mommy sleep.” 

Nine times out of ten, he’ll be able to put your baby back down to sleep. The one time he can’t, the child will need to be fed, and Rengoku swells with pride as he watches you nurse them.

Once you’re done nursing, he’ll quickly run to get you some water and a small snack because he knows it takes a lot of energy to breastfeed. 

“You’re a good mother,” he says as he strokes your hair, looking over your shoulder at your milk-drunk child. “I can’t wait to do this again and again.”

Tengen Uzui

Tengen is annoyed when you place the child next to you—you didn’t even ask him! You explain that it’s easier for night feedings, and the baby sleeps better between you both. He admits it’s true, and the change drastically improved his own sleep. 

But Tengen HATES giving up the level of intimacy he had with you and many times ponders if kicking the baby out would be the obvious solution. With venom in your tone, you assure him there’s no need to bother his pretty little head with such ridiculous thoughts. He is aghast, but admittedly, he likes that you’re protective of their child, even against him.

Eventually, the child moves to their room, and Tengen has you all back to himself during the night! And, oh, has he missed it.

Obanai Iguro

Obanai really wishes he could get his bed back and is grumpy at first as despite his small stature, he takes up a LOT of space when sleeping. 

But his heart melts as your child always curls up against him, seeking his father’s warmth and comfort. He’ll stare down at them, still unable to believe he contributed to something so beautiful and perfect. 

He’ll plant a kiss on his child’s small tuft of black hair and then on the crown of your head, his arm snaking around his child, and holding your hand while you sleep quietly. So yeah, he’ll start off annoyed, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

When you suggest moving the child out of your shared room, Obanai is taken aback.

“Let’s not be too hasty! They sleep so well with us.”

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi grew up sleeping in the same room as his family, so he isn’t surprised or put out that the baby sleeps between you both. 

He’d never admit it, but he feels a lot less anxiety at the thought of something happening to you and your child when you’re all sleeping together. 

Sure, sometimes he’ll wake up with a baby foot in his mouth or get woken up by a sleepy yet firm baby smack to his face, but he’ll grumble lovingly and drift back off to sleep, finding comfort in the fact that his family is safe and sound. 

Sometimes, Sanemi has to pull the baby off you at night when it spreads its limbs over your face. 

“Hey, get back here!”

Giyu Tomioka

Giyu is not a fan of a baby sleeping in his bed and will likely never be. He misses cuddling with you, holding your hand as you sleep, and waking up as the little or big spoon to your duo.

It’s hard to be a spoon in a trio—he feels more like a fork.

He’s an amazing father, though, and leads the nighttime routine of bath time, bedtime stories, and gently rocking the small baby in his arms. 

Eventually, he’ll rearrange the futons so that you’re between the baby and himself, which is his way of getting to spoon you again. Clever!

[roanofarcc]

A MISJUDGMENT

pairing. tyler owens x fem!reader

summary. when kate drags you back to the home for a one-week stint to help out one of her old friends, you meet tyler owens. the uncouth cowboy and his reckless actions when dealing with something as dangerous as tornados almost instantly prick your nerves until you realize maybe there's more to the cowboy than meets the eye.

warnings. description of tornados, a curse word or two, slightly inaccurate meteorological info, reader is from the midwest.

word count. 2k || masterlist

a.n. did not expect my other fic to get so much love!! sending kisses to everyone who sent me such nice words <3 and I am having a ball with all of the wonderful requests I'm getting!!

The difference between the Oklahoma and New York was more jarring than you remembered. The wide-open skies and fields that stretched for miles were a distantly familiar sight as you stepped out of the truck. You had grown up in the Midwest, smack dab in the middle of tornado alley, which meant your youth was spent listening to your cautious mother warn you every tornado season of the dangers the storms posed so you’d always be prepared when worst came to worst. You’d hunkered down more time than you could count in your storm cellar, listening to doors rattling and the radio speak. Your father was less cautious; he enjoyed watching the storms roll in on the front porch as he listened to the distant hum of sirens. 

You’d never been a fan of storms, not like your father. They made you nervous; the unpredictably and devastating destruction wasn’t something you found fascinating enough to chase.

Moving to New York was a culture shock but you were lucky enough to score to a job working in tandem with someone who also grew up in tornado alley. You and Kate quickly became friends, bonding over your upbringing and knowledge of the weather. She had opened up to you about her storm-chasing days, all ending with the tragedy that took the lives of three people she loved. Her story only cemented your opinion of storm chasing; it was too risky. But she had suckered you in with your love for the science behind weather, and the next thing you know you were in Oklahoma with Kate and a friend of hers on a one-week mission.

You stuck back with the team in charge of reading the data the chasers collected. Your apprehension wasn’t thwarted by Kate’s reassurance, but you’d always known her to be smart and she knew those storms better than anyone. Your distaste for storm chasers was not because of those there for the science of it all, but rather those who did it for the thrill. 

Tyler Owens was exactly the kind of person you expected to drive into tornados with no regard for the danger. What he was doing, from what you gathered from Javi’s brief explanation, was for entertainment and the excitement of facing down peril, laughing in the face of it. 

You stretched in the nighttime air as Kate closed the truck door behind her and turned to you with the same unsure smile she’d been carrying around since you arrived in Oklahoma. You could tell her feelings were mixed about being back there, but you also saw the spark of enjoyment she was slowly relighting. 

“I’ll go check us in,” Kate said, gesturing to the front office of the motel before she took off. You leaned against the side of Javi’s truck, yawning and taking in the scene of more storm chasers lounging around the motel’s lot, enjoying each other’s company as you all waited for another storm to pop up amidst the outbreak. 

The sound of boots under gravel approached you, belonging to none other than Tyler Owens himself. “How ‘ya holding up, city girl?” he said. 

He introduced himself to you and Kate when you first arrived with Javi, meeting his team and the other groups of chasers who were all gunning after the same storm. She had told him the two of you were in from New York for the week, and he assumed that meant you both were born and raised there. Maybe you had lost your Midwest twang during your stay, but no matter how far you moved away, a piece of you would always remain there. 

“Just fine, thank you,” you replied. His team had set up not far from where you two stood; they all seemed busy working on their equipment, but their work was often cut by howls of laughter. They seemed to be enjoying themselves more than Javi’s team was. They’d all split up into separate rooms for the night, so they’d be ready to leave first thing in the morning. 

He rested his arm against the bed of the truck, making himself comfortable as he too looked out across the lot at the people. “I’ve always wanted to visit New York City,” he said, surprising you. That seemed like the last place someone like him wanted to go. “What’s it like?” 

You shrugged. “A lot different than this.” You looked upwards at the sky, seeing stars blinking back at you. The skies were never that dark in New York City, but the towering buildings made for a cool scene too. “I haven’t lived there too long, though. I’m still figuring it out.” You were still trying to gauge if you liked it more than home. You liked the hustle and bustle most of the time, but being back under starry skies and open plains, you had to admit you missed it a little. 

“Really?” he furrowed his brows. “Where’d you move from?” 

“Kansas.” 

He smiled in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be damned. City girl’s not actually a city girl after all.” 

“I’m full of surprises.” 

“I’m seein’ that.” Tyler was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Do you miss it?” 

You weren’t sure why he asked or why he seemed to care, but you answered regardless. “Sometimes. Not so much the storms though.” 

He laughed. “Yet, you’re out here storm chasing anyway?” 

“I’m just here to help my friend; their business is to help people. That kind of storm chasing I can get behind, I guess. Yours on the other hand…” You trailed off, and he scoffed in mock offense. 

“My kind of business is to face my fears.” 

It was your turn to scoff. “By putting yourself and your friends in danger for…what, exactly? Your internet audience? I know plenty of people like you from back home. You’re reckless and irresponsible.” You saw Kate waving you down by the stairs of the motel, flashing a set of room keys in the air. You said nothing more to Tyler, didn’t even give him a chance to defend himself, before you walked off and into your room for the night

You’d seen devastation before following a tornado, but it was still a harrowing sight. Homes flattened, family belongings flung miles away, and people left hurt in the ruins of their town. You, Kate, and all of Javi’s team arrived just as the storm subsided and the damage was fresh as wounds many of the townspeople bared. You wasted no time going around to help people; Kate did the same. 

An old woman sat in her front yard, carefully cradling windchimes in her arms. “Are you all right?” you asked, kneeling down in the wet grass in front of her. She looked up slightly startled but smiled kindly as she shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m just fine, dear, thank you.” 

“Here you go, Ms. Riley,” a familiar voice sounded from behind you. You turned your head just as Tyler appeared, holding a small box in one hand and a little kitten in the other. The woman, Ms. Riley, gasped and sat her windchimes back on the grass. She took the kitten, teary-eyed, as it purred. “There’s food there too. Make sure you eat, and if you need more my team’s got a table set up just down the road, all right?” 

“Thank you,” she said. 

Tyler said nothing to you as he began to walk away, but you followed him, not catching up with him until he was at a little table surrounded by his team. They had a stack of brown boxes they were handing out, filled with sandwiches one of the members was making quickly. They also handed out bottles of water to the line of people who had just been affected by the storm. 

One of his team members smiled at you, holding out a box of food. “You hungry?” they asked, but you shook your head. 

“No. These people need it, but thanks.” 

You weren’t sure for a moment that Tyler was going to say a word to you. You hadn’t left your last conversation on the nicest note, only to find him and his team working hard to help the ravaged neighborhood. 

But he turned toward you for a moment, looking a little conflicted. “At least take a water,” he said before looking at another member of his team. “Lily, can you take some boxes up the road? There’re  some people who can make it all the way down here.” She nodded, filling her arms with the boxes before she took off.

You were quiet for a moment, staring at Tyler as he and his team came up with a plan to help and feed as many people as they could before night fell. You felt a complicated set of feelings topple over you. And as Tyler started to walk away, you surged forward and grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn around. 

“What can I do to help?” 

Together, you and Tyler spent the rest of the afternoon helping members of the neighborhood find their lost belongings and connected anyone with injuries to the EMTs working overtime. It wasn’t until the sun started to set that you took a break, finding a blown-away lawn chair that was still usable to sit on. All day you had eaten your judgment and first impression of Tyler and his team. Maybe they all were reckless and a little irresponsible in their storm-chasing, but they were doing just as Kate was, helping people, just differently. He and his team apparently did that often and were some of the first responders to the damage the tornados they chased caused. You had overheard Lily tell Kate they used the money from their t-shirt sales to buy food for victims of the storm. 

“Hey,” Tyler greeted, approaching you with two boxes of food. “Here.” He handed onto to you before he found a seat and pulled it up beside you. 

You thanked him before the two of you ate in silence for a little while. Some of the debris had been picked up, but the wrecked houses haunted the street. You’d been lucky enough to never lose your home turning a storm, but you knew too many people who had. It was terrible. That was why you had gotten a metrology degree. You had witnessed the devastation storms brought and even though you were trapped behind a computer most days, your goal was to help improve warning systems for all kinds of disasters and ensure that people knew the best way to prepare for them, but it wasn’t foolproof. Sometimes all there was to do was help pick up the pieces in the wake. 

“I think I misjudged you,” you said, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah?” He smiled slightly, his face warmly illuminated by the ironically beautiful sunset. “Are you taking back the reckless and irresponsible comment?” 

“No.” You smiled too. “But maybe that’s not such a bad thing. You guys did a good thing here, helping these people.” 

Maybe there was more to him than you had originally believed. 

“It’s all a part of the job,” he said, a bit too casually for all of the work they actually did to help; one could say he was humble about it, which confused you even more. From the second he climbed out of his truck the first time you saw him, you were so sure you knew exactly the kind of guy he was. 

“You aren’t exactly how I expected you to do,” you said, honestly. 

He seemed to take that in stride, smirking at you bright enough to bring heat to your face. “Well, if you stick around, you might even get to like me.” 

You laughed. “Don’t push your luck, cowboy.” But you had a feeling he right be right. The week wasn’t over yet; you still had time to figure out exactly who Tyler Owens was. 

[acid-ixx]

You know what would be a good add for you yan bat fam fic? We refer to our father as Bruce! We don’t call him dad or wtv we call him by his name sense we don’t see him as a dad!

I can just imagine the heartbreak look on Wayne’s face!! Ooo even better if we call him by his last name!

a/n: this !! it's already hinted at during chapter one that you literally despise writing bruce wayne as your father in legal documents and even hated him to the point of changing your last name back to your mother's after your eighteenth birthday. the angst potential was stated in this drabble so it's something i had already expanded on but i love talking about my plans for the story so yk. this is basically the reader disowning their own father LMAO. p.s. one of the paragraphs here would be used for the next chapter !!

bruce knows that you have every right to not even refer to him as your father— he is way beyond unworthy to be called "dad" or "father" or any parental name you had in mind. but he wishes you have a sliver of love to even refer to him as "bruce" like your other siblings would call him.

but no, the world always has something else in mind.

"sorry, mr. wayne. but i am not your child, and will never see myself as one. and you? you will never be my dad."

your heartless tone, the way you look at him like he wasn't your father, but a mere stranger. maybe in your mind, he was just a sperm donor for your mother, and he knows he would only amount to that, seeing as how he wasn't even there for when you were born; not acknowledging your existence for five years and simply taking you in when your mother had left you, then forgetting about you again—

it's now that it isn't batman who has gone too far but bruce wayne. your supposed father, the man who should've been there for you, to nourish your growth, watching you as you accomplish all the great things in the world.

he was supposed to be the man who should've kissed your wounds away whenever you go out to the park with him to play. he should've been the man who would sit on the crowded bleachers to watch you perform on a talent show. he was supposed to be the father who would hold you close to your chest as you cry about your first heartbreak, about your overdue projects, about the bullies in the school.

but he wasn't that father for you. and now, you seek love and attention from people who weren't even family. because they had failed you, he had failed you.

it reminds him of all the times he was left brooding alone, in the manor as he forces himself to remember the scene of his parents dying all over and over again.

yet it was you, his precious baby, that he had lost. not physically, but emotionally and spiritually.

he doesn't want to lose hope at any instance for redemption but fuck, he doesn't want to delude himself into thinking you would easily forgive and forget.

but damn it all, because he would have nothing to lose to show you just how much he loves you. and he will, he will spoil you rotten to the core, he'll give you the entire world if that meant he would hear you would call him your "dad" just for once.

[divinesolas]

the shortest marriage tour | finale

summary: you go through a whirlwind of events; struggles with wedding preparations, feasts in your honor, wedding ceremonies and the fun that comes with being married.

w.c: 6.6k

c.w: fluff, also a good amount of smut, father daemon, idk how weddings work, not proofread

a.n: i had so much fun with this series thank you all for the love !! sorry this took a little longer than expected i did not think this part would be so long 😭😭 MORE BEN TO COME TRUST !

benjicot series taglist: @poppyflower-22 @earth4angels @godofstory @melissaliciousx @jessie123878 @callsignwidow @kezibear @knight-of-flowerss @kitkat1sstuff @valdezthg @multyfangirl @duck-duck-goose2 @charvsz @bxdbxtxh15

part one - part two

As you had expected your parents were not happy with your wish to get married under the weirwood tree. Your father had been especially furious and the two of you got into a screaming match. You two have always had a playfully hateful relationship but you have never hated in the man and he you yet in these moments it was almost as if you two were enemies. Even your mother seemed more willing to give into the idea but your father was firm in denial which led you to now where the two of you would not even speak to one another.

You spent the majority of time with your mother though it was tense, she sort of danced around you as you mostly took reins on your wedding, picking out the food, contacting the seamstress for your dress it shocked your that your mother did not seem to be as involved until she dropped the bomb on you. “Your grandsire wishes for there to be a feast in your honor at the red keep. He,, wants to see you wedded in the sept.” you smash a glass on the ground as you glare at her. “And you tell me this now?!” “He is my father and your king, your grandsire he wishes to see you married,” she sighs as she watches you begin to pace around the room.

“So i am just meant to throw all the planning i have made out of the fucking window?!” Her face hardens, “I am your mother-” “then you should have told me! i would have been angry and furious but i would have compromised because he is the king but most of all you are my mother, and i shall always listen to my mother first.” Her face drops at your words, she walks over to you and grips your shoulders pressing her forehead against yours. “I am sorry. I should have told you sooner but you just seemed to happy and i dont know i did not want to ruin that for you. Maybe just wait a while longer to inform you.”

You sigh and take a step back before nodding. “I understand, well what am i to do with all ive done?” “We could hold a smaller event there?” You run you hands down along your face as you try not to curse. “So i am bound forever to have a boring wedding in front of the sept with every stuck up lord in all the kingdoms who wish to kiss my ass.” She laughs, “You sound so much like your father.”

You frown at the mention of your father and she grips your hand. “Speak to him.” You try to turn away at her words but she keeps you firmly in front of her. “He will never admit it but he misses you he has been mopping about since you two fought.”

You sigh. You hate to admit it but you miss him too and it pained you to see your mother upset that you too were not in a good place. So that night you walk out onto the beach to see him sitting on the dock staring out into the ocean. He does not turn to you when you sit down next to him but there is enough space between you two you are able to place the bottle of wine you had brought down with you.

“its seems we both lose father, i am to be married by a sept in kings landing.” He turns to you as you take a long sip from the bottle. “by whos decree?” “your brother, the king.” He takes the bottle as soon as you place it down and take a long chug from it. He sighs, “i will fight this, my daughter will not be married in a fucking sept.” “why? because its not the wedding you wished for me?” “because its not the wedding you want.”

You let out a stiff laugh with no joy in it as you admire the ocean. “im sorry.” You two sit in silence before he places a hand on your shoulder. No more words are exchanged but they dont need to be the two of you understand one another, actions speak louder than words.

The next day he argues against you getting married in the sept, much to everyone’s disbelief he flies out the next morning to kings landing to argue against it. It would be wrong for both of your beliefs, neither of you believe in the new gods and it would be out right disrespectful to both of you. After days of arguing with them, that you now know were the hightowers not so much your grandsire, daemon returned successful telling you a feast would be held in your honor but nothing more.

You are overjoyed and immediately run to write to benjicot about the news. True to his word the two of you had been exchanging letters back and forth since you left, the letters have been sweet, he tells you what he’s been up to, updates about the construction of the walk which is pretty much done and he even lets oscar and kermit write little notes to you asking you to come back because its boring with you around.

You had thought marriage would be miserable and leaving dragonstone would be much worse but this just proved to you your life would be full of a lot more joy then you had thought, you miss them, you miss being in raventree hall in the riverlands you miss the bright colored grass and waking up to the sound of ravens crowing and cattle moo’ing outside. You missed him.

The letters were nice but they could not fill the gap being without him made. You tended to tell him about your family and about the wedding preparations. The letters were always very sweet and normal until one day about one week away from your wedding a particular long letters is sent by ben to you and you were particularly curious about since he took much longer to write this one.

My love,

I hope all is still well since you last wrote to me. I apologize for the long wait i had been unsure of how to word my feelings properly as of late. I have been feeling particularly, off, as of late. Nothing bad of course but you have always run through my mind rampantly but as of recently i have begun to dream of you. See you when i close my eyes and when i think of you i begin to lose control of myself. My body my mind shivers and shakes at the thought of you. I should not say these things but it has been the only thing i have managed to think of. I imagine your lips, the way they had felt on mine but i imagine them going lower down my jaw to my neck down my chest.

Yet i would never allow you to go lower it would be rude you are a princess, i must worship you. find myself on my knees and defiling you. I imagine the way you would sound as i slipped my fingers inside you. would you scream in delight? or are you the type to sink your teeth into the side of my neck to silence yourself? would you be able to contain yourself as i lick at your most sacred area? would you pull on my hair has i wrap my lips around you bud? and when i stand to slide my way into you would your nails run marks down my back i am sure to be teased about?

i would wear your marks with honor. take me however you wish i would allow it i would let you do anything to me. I have imagined this all too well, so well in fact i have carved it into my memory that every night i must have to act upon my urges with my hand.

It is sinful and this letter is scandalous but i cannot stop myself. I dream of your perfume and the way it fills my lungs i could never get enough of you. Do you picture me? as i picture you?

with all my love, ben.

A knock on your door has you screaming and you slam a book on the letter as the maid walks into the room. One of your hands cover your mouth as you rush to take deep breaths. The maid looks startled at you as she almost drops the tray she had been holding in her hands. “tea?” you gesture her to place it on your table and she rushes to do so before she quickly leaves and you cannot manage to get your breath back to normal as you peer down at the letter once more. that monster! he had rejected all your teasing touches and scandalous words during your month there only to send such a letter to you now? right before the feast and your wedding? You stand up to pace as you think about what to do.

You first thought is to burn the letter and act like this never happened. But you did not want that. You liked the letter, a lot. Much more then you would like to admit with the way your soaked. You hate him. Why would he do this to you? An idea suddenly pops into your head and a grin appears on your face. You can play his game too, and win.

You rummage around in your drawers before finding what you wanted before running back to your desk and getting a paper in ink out before writing to him.

my beloved,

well hello to you too. you are certainly posses the best penmanship out of all the men ive ever written to. This was certainly a surprise to open up imagine i had been around my family! how awful. though before i begin i would like to tell you i have been well, and my dress has finally been completed though by your words that certainly does not matter much to you. Have a pictured you? you certainly already know the answer i have told you as much? do you remember the night you had rejected me out in the woods?

i had gone back to my room and touched myself in ways i had hoped you would. did you not hear me? when i cried your name on my lips as i peaked? i tried to be loud enough i guess i will need to try harder. You should know i am never one to be quiet. as for your predictions and thoughts i shall leave you guessing until our fateful wedding night but let me leave you with this. if you shiver at the mere thoughts of me you will certainly love what i plan to do to you.

if you forbid me from going on my knees then i can certainly find other ways to play with you. my hands would slide down your chest as i wrap my hands around your cock and stroke you until you are shaking and then i would push you back onto the bed and ride you until you are seeing stars. i would grab your hand and have your rub my bud as your hips thrusted up to meet mine in a fury and as you grow closer i will tell you to wait. and you’ll wait and wait and wait until you are begging me to let you release and when you do i will not stop. Maybe you’ll flip me over and take me again? who knows im just throwing out ideas.

i hope you’re taking notes as this is what how im expecting our long waited first night to go. since you missed my scent so much i hope this letter brings you some relief. and maybe even my other gift will too, they’re freshly washed maybe you’re disappointed by that you dirty man.

my heart,

you sign your name and grab your lipstick to apply it and press a kiss to the bottom on the page before soaking the letter in way too many sprays of your perfume before you roll it up and slip it into the small pouch you had put one of your pairs of underwear in before tying the small bag to your bird. “Go take this to benjicot.” Your bird flies off down the familiar path its probably done a hundred times by now and you try to shake off your nerves. Maybe you shouldnt have done that. what if someone else gets to it? you won’t know until you see him in the keep as he certainly wont have enough time to get one out to you now.

You ring the bell and ask the maids to run you a cold bath. as cold as they can make it. You begin to feel sticky and you could not stop lightly shaking as your hands itched to bring you some sort of comfort but you forbid yourself until you got into the bath and dismissed the maids knowing nobody would bother you for the rest of the night.

You anxiously await seeing him. you had ridden with your parents and viserys joffrey and aegon in a carriage having left your dragon in raventree not too long ago with some maesters until you return soon. You arrived a day earlier than your siblings and benjicot and rush to see your siblings the second they arrive. You have a quick greeting with them until you urge them to follow you.

“Why the rush dear sister?” “Maybe because she is eager to see her soon to be husband jace.” baela laces her arm through yours and grins at you. “I am excited to meet this mystery man, father even talks highly of him.” “and father talks highly of no one.” rhaena cut in but you merely laugh and shake your head. “Or maybe it is because i am eager to get this feast over with who wants to spend the evening with the fucking hightowers?”

They were completely right. you were more than excited to see ben and looked around the compound for him as soon as you arrived. You force down the pout that grows on your face as you cant seem to see him anywhere and turn to your siblings who all stare with a knowing look. “What? don’t look at me like that?” Jace places a hand on your shoulder but the mischievous grin he has on his face offers you no comfort. “Don’t cry dear sister im sure he will show up soon.” You slap his arm off your shoulder as they begin to laugh and you roll your eyes. “You are an insufferable little shit.”

“she does not deny she is about to cry oh dont cry dear sister.” you knock lucerys on the head and he winces, “once you can hold a fucking sword in your hand then you can speak to me like that.” “You’re so mean sister.” you open your mouth to argue but a whistle behind you and when you turn around a big grin forms on your face. You rush away from your siblings and when you get close enough he wraps you in his arms and spins you around once before setting you back down on the ground and pressing his forehead against yours.

As much as you wish to kiss him you know that would cause too much of a scandal so you simple press a kiss against his cheek as he grins. “I have missed you.” “I missed you a lot more.” You press your head into his neck where you lips are right next to his ear. “Did you like my letter?” He hums as his arms tighten around you, his head dips into the crook of your neck and he takes a long deep breath in. “did i like it?,” you feel him pinch at your side, “You know the answer.” you pull away slightly and look him in the eye. “And what of my gift?” He rubs his nose against yours as he lets out a shaky breath. “the things i have done with your gift are, unspeakable.” you feel the heat build up in your face as you slap him his shoulder and push him away.

“no hugs for us?” You turn to oscar and kermit and you throw your arms around their shoulders. Your siblings had walked over at some point and had begun introducing themselves so when you turn back around it looks like they are full on interrogating him. When you slip your arm though bens he shoots you a smile that screams ‘please save me’. Jace in particular has his arms crossed as he glares at ben, “oh relax jace he is a nice man.” your brother huffs and benjicot wipes a bead of sweat that drops down his forehead.

“You’re scaring him, trust me if he wanted to defile me i gave him many the opportunity yet my purity is in tact.” This has your brother tensing as baela covers her mouth with a laugh, “Whatever are you talking about?” “when i had waited for him in the library in nothing but my silk night gown he merely took off his cloak and told me i must be cold imagine my disappointment.” he deadpans as he looks between the two of you and turns back to you alarmed when ben merely turns away with his ears bright red “tell me you are jesting.” “if it will make you feel better.” “it would.” “then of course i was kidding! do you really think i am so deprave?”

he glares at you as a guard walks over and tells you your parents wished to see you and you turn to ben who squeezes your hand. “i shall see you later.” he lifts up your hand to press a kiss on the back before he walks off with a small wave. “he seems sweet, you pick well dear sister” You smile at baela and thank her as you watch ben walk off with oscar and kermit in his tail. it really hits you that you’re going to be married in a few days time and you cant help but grow more and more excited. “you really like him.” “i do.”

Your afternoon is a blur, you watch as your siblings greet your parents and dreadfully greet alicent and her children who look less than happy to see any of you but you all suck it up for the sake of the day knowing you’ll be gone before the sun even rises tomorrow. You are suddenly rushed to your room to get dressed in some fancy dress and some ridiculous hair that has you itching. its just for one night, you repeat to yourself over and over agin in the hopes you will not tear off your clothes or scratch at your hair so the pins would fall out.

The only thing that brings you relief is seeing benjicot sitting with the rest of your family at the end table with a spot empty right next to you. “well you clean up nicely.” He certainly did. His hair slicked back away from his forehead while outfit is completely black with red accents, if you look closely you could see little ravens stitched into the fabric. a light blush covers his face as he looks you up and down as he smiles, “you are the prettiest woman ive ever seen.” you slap his shoulder lightly as your grin, “and you are the most handsome man ive ever seen” his chest puffs up at your complimentary words and he helps you into your seat.

Your grandsire and your parents give speeches you don’t bother to listen to simply playing with bens fingers under the table until people start coming up to you to give you there congratulations. this was the part you hated the most, where every lord and lady comes up and tells you how happy they are for you and sneakily try to tell you they brought a very nice gift that you will probably never look at and you have to sit there with a painful smile as benjicot took over as you barely even wanted to look at these people. He was a much better communicator than you were and everyone who spoke to him seemed please you were happy at least one of you would be good at dealing with the stuck up lord and ladies.

Except when he walked up and you could tell he was growing angry. you place a hand on his chest and scoot up further in your chair in a silent motion telling him you’ll handle this. “lord braken,” he bows his head and aeron practically hides behind his father, “what a pleasure.” benjicot laces his fingers with yours and squeezed them tightly as he tried not to speak. “congratulations are in order princess what a wonderful occasion.” you grind your jaw as you smile and nod, “thank you lord braken.” He does allow his eyes to look at benjicot for a moment before he looks back at you. This was not going to be good.

“though it is quite a shame you are marrying a man of, his nature.” benjicots knees hits the table and everyones eyes turn to look at him but he remains silent. You grip his hand tightly but keep your eyes on the lord braken. you can see aeron tug on the his fathers back trying to get him to step back and walk away but lord braken does not falter. so you lean across the table and grin at him, “if you do not get the fuck out of my sight in the next five seconds you and your family will be nothing but food for my fucking dragon so i suggest you walk away. Now.”

He laughs awkwardly and takes a couple steps back as you settle back into your seat, “good day.” he quickly runs away and you begin to laugh. You turn to benjicot pleased and see him admiring you, “what?” he just shakes his head, “i really like you.” you blow raspberries as you try to ignore pounding of your heart and the heat in your stomach, “i would hope so.”

He suddenly stands and you look at him confused until he holds his hand out to you, “would my lady like to dance with me?” You grab his hand and let him pull you up, “you sure you want to i am an awful dancer?” he leads you to the floor anyway, “im sure you’re better than you say.” you laugh, “if you say so, if your feet begin to bruise its not my fault.”

You are a fine dancer, maybe a little sloppy and out of practice but he is more than happy to dance with you. You felt so happy like it could never get better than this, just you and benjicot. The rest of the night went just as well, no more annoying lord as you spent the rest of night on the dance floor until the two of you called it a night.

you would head back to dragonstone for some final prep while benjicot head to raventree hall for the wedding. You did not want to leave him once again but he assured you these last couple days would fly by and your wedding would be here before you knew it. “once this is all over we’ll get to spend the rest of our lives together.” You would be flying back alone and the rest of your family would be traveling together in carriage to raventree hall and you would meet them there as after the wedding they would come back to king's landing.

It was odd packing up all your stuff, your room now barren and empty. all the things you’ve ever known packed up in boxes. It did not bother you much to leave kings landing it never felt like home despite never knowing anywhere else but here? in dragonstone where you grew up with your siblings? where you learned how to use a sword? you find yourself staring at the castle before forcing yourself into the carriage and letting it take you and all your stuff to raventree hall. You did not think you would cry but you do and you’re thankful nobody else is there to see it.

Its snowing. all the land that the eye could see was covered in snow. Raventree hall is packed by the time you arrive and people rush to you the second you jump out of the carriage, “please theres enough of me to go around.” oscar rolls his eyes and grabs you, “come on you need to see this.” he drags you off with kermit not too far behind and you have no clue what he could be showing you until you are standing in front of it. “wow.” “i know right, its amazing.”

The boarder between the lands stood tall, the dark oak wood towers over you, its much taller than you had thought it would be. oscar smacks you on the shoulder, “this wouldn’t be possible without you my benevolent princess.” he dips into a low bow and you cant help but laugh, “yes i am rather charitable dont you think? it is my duty to help the needy.” You hope it makes him happy, the stones gone and you can no longer even see the braken castle. “does he like it?” kermit laughs at your question, “like it? i swear he’s never looked happier.”

The three of you are soon dragged back to the castle walls and you are forced into the main hall. Benjicot is not there much to your disappointment but two very unfamiliar faces are. You quickly find out they are lord cregan stark and his wife alysanne stark aka benjicots aunt. “it is so nice to finally meet you princess. Benji writes so much about you.” ”no need to be so formal alysanne we are to be family.”

with your que alysanne, who begged you call her aly, asks you many questions about your relationship with benjicot and you ask her about the north where cregan buts in and the three of you engage in a very long conversation. The two of them are very nice people and they make you promise to come to the north sometime to spend some time there and you assure them you will.

as the night grows later you find it odd benjicot has not come out to greet you until you find out the two of you are not to see each other until you walk down the aisle. Its just one more night, one more night until you spend the rest of your lives together. You toss and turn that night despite the fact everyone told you to get as much rest as possible. you stare up at the ceiling and wonder if benjicot is in the same state, if he cant sleep because he’s thinking about you.

You certainly have no time to be exhausted when you are immediately woken up and tossed into a whirlwind of events. a piece of bread is shoved into your mouth as maids urge you into the bath, scrubbing you down head to toe. You barely have any idea whats going on until your mother walks into the room and she gasps at you. “you look beautiful.” they had been working on your hair for only the gods know how long but you had been tied tightly into your dress. your mother stands before you with tears in her eyes, “oh look at you.”

“oh don’t cry mother ill ruin my makeup.” you cannot handle seeing her cry, already overwhelmed with emotions. she wipes the tears off her face but they dont seem to stop leading your eyes to well up so badly one of the maids had to walk over and put a cloth near your eyes to catch the tears. “i am so happy for you.” “thank you mother.”

she nods and composes herself, sitting on the bed and you narrow your eyes at her serious look. “what?” she sighs and runs her hands along her skirt. “there are things that happen on your wedding night,” “oh my gods.” you turn around and the maids rush around you to continue working on your hair. “i have to tell you this, unless you already know.” you look at her through the mirror and you can tell what she means immediately by her words. “do you all think so low of me everyone assumes i have been defiled? i am as a girl my age is.” she lets out a sigh of relief but she ends up tilting your head at your wording. “what does that mean?” “it means i have touched myself.” the maids freeze at your words and so does your mother but you shrug. “what? i am a growing women.” “how do you even know about that?” “father gave me a book.” “daemon?”

The man in question walks into the room and every pair of eyes turns to look at him. “what?” “father remember that book you gave me?” daemon looks up and he looks thoroughly confused until a flash comes across his face and he brightens up with a laugh. “yes yes i remember.” rhaenyra glares at him but he just shrugs, “she was complaining to me about feeling, pains, and i simply provided her the resources to make it go away.” she glares at him and mumbles something about them talking about it later.

Your father eyes you, “face me.” you turn around again as the maids finally finish and they all stepped away from you. rhaenyra stands next to daemon the two look at you. you see the tears in rhaenyras eyes again and she wipes them away. “oh my beautiful girl.” daemon says nothing but he has an unreadable face as he stares at you. you punch him lightly in the stomach, “not even going to tell me i look pretty?” he lightly chuckles, “you already know that.” you pout at him, “it would be nice to hear.” he grabs yours shoulders and you are shocked by the sudden contact, “you are the prettiest princess in the whole realm.” you would normally think hes kidding, his word choice as comedic as always but you can tell he’s being serious. “thank you father.”

Before you know it you are being looked over once more before being taken outside for the ceremony. You had not taken into account when designing your dress that it would be snowing but luckily alys had brought her wedding cloak for you to wear. She had worn it when she got married in the cold snowy winter in winterfell and assured you it would keep you as warm as a freshly baked bread. You almost tear up again at the gesture but you try your best to compose yourself. your father stands at your side and you loop your arm through his.

“can you believe that when you crushed my toe with your heel we would end up like this?” you laugh and shove him with your elbow and he laughs with you. “see are you now thankful i insisted we leave that night.” he hums but says nothing and you look at him. He looks, sad? you turn to him and grab his hands. “i shall visit you father i promise, you will not grow older and bitter without me.” he rolls his eyes but he looks more than pleased at your words, “then i shall bother you for the rest of my life.” you groan as the two of you stand back into proper place. “oh please i take it all back i did not mean it.”

with one final laugh he ques for the doors to be open and the first thing you notice is the cold rush that hits your face. you close your eyes at the rush but make sure to maintain your pace, the covering you have on your face doing nothing to protect you. yet when you finally open your eyes you see the face of everyone you love yet your eyes cant seem to tear away from him. Standing tall infront of the weirwood tree you almost burst into tears. dawned with furs and his hair slicked back once again, his hair is covered in white snow flakes with a bright smile on his face. he wipes his eyes quickly as you begin to get closer. you turn to your father who lifts up your veil and presses a small kiss on your forehead before walking off and you stand in front of benjicot.

His eyes swell up as he looks at you and you cant help but do the same. “you are so beautiful.” he whispers to you as the maester begins to speak. the ceremony is everything you could have dreamed of and more. Your hands tied together and words spoken in sync, sealing you together forever with a perfect kiss. it was the most magical moment of your life. the crowd cheers as you look up at the ravens who stare you down and you can hear morningstar roar in the background this day could not get any better.

the feast afterwards was much better than the one in the red keep. nobody bothering, no need to pretend for a single second you were overjoyed and ben could not keep his hands off you, calling you his wife any chance he could get. though you could barely eat, too excited for the events that will occur after you call it a night and it seemed ben could not wait either as his hands massaged any skin he could get and he pressed his head into your neck to smell you.

after way too long you two finally call it a night, ignoring the whistles of your friends you sprinted down the halls with bens hand in yours as the two of you laugh. You finally reach his room and the two of you simply stare at one another with stupid smiles. “have i told you that you are gorgeous?” you take a step towards him and he does the same, “only a couple hundred times.” his lips dance over yours and his next words come out as a hushed whisper, “i feel as though i have not done it enough.”

he kisses you slowly as his hands find its way to your back and begin to untie the dress much slower than you would like. his lips trail down your neck and you throw your head back. as he continues to unlace every tie, “ben.” you hear him rumble in annoyance, “why does this thing have so many ties?” you laugh and reach behind you to help him and your dress suddenly drops to the floor, leaving you bare in front of him. He steps back and his eyes dart all over your body.

You smirk and spin around for him, “you pleased?” he jumps you like a dog you fall back onto the bed with a squeal as he grips your tits in his hands, “i am more than fucking pleased.” you moan as his hands continue to knead at your skin and his lips dance around your collarbone. “you are wearing too much.” you manage to get out as you would much rather feel his skin against yours. he laughs and pulls away from you, “as my lady commands.” you sit up on your elbows as you watch him strip down into nothing licking your lips at him. he crawls back onto of you and you run your hands down his chest, “you were hiding all this under your stupid tunics.” he pinches your slide as his hands find your core and rub the folds of your slit, “does my lady wish for me to wear no shirt?” “your lady wishes for you to stick your fingers inside her.”

he does exactly as you say and grip his shoulder, his fingers were longer than yours, thicker and more coarse, which just two fingers he can reach places you had only ever dreamed about. “please ben.” “please what?” “another one.” he adds another finger and his lips wrap around one of your nipples as his free hand places with your other one. His fingers suddenly press just right against your walls and you cry out, “right there oh fuck.” he continues to hit that point over and over as his thumb circled around your clit. the stimulation of his fingers and his mouth are too much for you to bare and your legs shake as you release all over his fingers.

when he pulls his fingers out he wraps them around his cock. you whine at his actions and wiggle your hips towards him, “please fuck me ben.” he laughs and moans as his hand quickens, “i thought you had so many wonderful ideas of what were were going to do?” “lets save it for another night, ben please.”

“anything my lady says.” with a couple more tugs of his hand he lines himself up before he pushes into you slowly. it aches. stretches you out you begin to hiss, he presses his lips against yours as he slides in fully. the two of you stay like that for awhile. he doesn’t dare move an inch without your okay. he pulls away from your lips and grips your face with his hands, “are you good?” you nod and test the waters by moving your hips a little. It did not ache as much and the sound he lets out is more than enough to please you. “fuck me.” he looks at you for assurance and you nod right before he begins to move his hips. your legs wrap around his hips and you shove your head into his neck as he pounds into you.

your hands scratch down his back and he hisses, “fuck you feel so good.” you can do nothing but mumble nonsense as you such into the skin of his neck. the room full of the sounds of skin slapping and the wet sounds of him pushing in and out of you. You bite into his neck once his hand slips between you too and plays with your clit once again. “ben,” you could not stop the bubble feeling in your stomach, the hot rushes all over your body. your skins burned against one another you could start a fire. “im gonna,” you words have him somehow moving fast and you feel him nod against you, “please do please.” you realize he has been waiting for you to release, most likely already way beyond his peak. once he feels you spur around him he also release, painting the inside of your walls.

the two of you lay still. he does not dare slip out of you. the two of you are sweaty and sticky but you have never been happier when he pulls back to look at you. “we should have been doing thats sooner.” you laugh and slap his chest, “i was trying you fool but you would not give in.” you feel him grow harder inside of you but he slips out suddenly, before you can whine about feeling empty he flips you back over and quickly slips back into you. “lets make up for lost time then.”

[allurilove]

Yandere Mob Boss x you

*This is inspired by the show called My Sweet Mobster! And this is just a short little drabble! I just quickly wrote this, so if there’s any mistakes, I am probably going to fix it.*

Synopsis: You’re a mommy blogger who shares your life on the internet, and unbeknownst to you, a terrifying and dangerous mob boss starts to watch all of your videos.

He just wanted to wind down for the day. There was nothing more tiring than coercing information out of stubborn little fuckers—people who were a huge threat to his empire—and ending up with nothing when they succumbed to their wounds from hours of torture. He sat in his huge California king bed with the softest sheets known to man, the air conditioning blasting at the perfect temperature for the room, and he scrolled through his YouTube recommendations.

He used the remote to flip through all the channels he had previously watched and liked. But one really caught his interest. He first rolled his eyes when he realized it was one of those mommy “bloggers” who just boasted about how their lives were better than everyone else’s, and how they conveniently got a pass to post the craziest and most intrusive things about their children. Kids getting exploited wasn’t something he wanted to watch, and he was surprised to even see your channel show up on his flat TV screen.

The yandere mob boss mostly watched primitive cooking videos or those men who went out into the wilderness and built houses from the ground up. Although, he was too lazy to click on a button to skip your video, so he decided to give you a shot instead.

You were perfect. Too perfect. It was hard for him not to get sucked in and binge-watch every post you had made. He was absolutely enamored at the sight of you and your adorable children. He barely blinked whenever you came on the screen, and his eyes tried to get a good look and memorize your face completely.

You were just talking about how you liked to make things from scratch, how you kept a little garden in your backyard, and how you got the kids to help you out as a fun activity. He learned that the father of your children was a deadbeat who never wanted to do anything with the kids and left the moment he could. Judging by your frustrated tone in your ‘Get to Know Me’ video, you were upset that he had left you so soon and suddenly. It certainly wasn’t easy for you at first, and you talked about how you wished you had a mentor to help you. Thus, this channel came to be. You wanted to help other women and help all the families that were going through the same thing as you. You were an amazing person, mother, and you gave helpful advice to all the new parents out there.

You were the total opposite of him. You were better.

You wouldn't kill people, you wouldn't threaten and torture them to the brink of death, and you were sickly kind and sweet to everyone. It was nauseating for the man to even think about dealing with hate comments (he got them daily from the news outlet), to edit and figure out what to do for each video, and you started to open his eyes and made him realize that you were practically superwoman.

The yandere mob boss was so grateful that you had posted about a hundred videos on your mommy blog. A hundred videos for him to see a glimpse into your life. There was nothing safe about how you were so open and honest, and certainly, you should have kept your mouth shut about the new place you were about to move into.

For someone who was a YouTuber, you knew nothing about internet safety. He took a mental note of how the interior of your new house looked, and you even showed a bit of the exterior and the neighborhood. He wrote down in his notes to remind himself to look for the exact house on Redfin or Zillow.

The yandere mob boss knew your two children’s names: Lila and Finn. Lila was the youngest of the two; she didn’t look anything like you, which meant she looked like the baby daddy. It was a shame, really, that the cute small girl had to end up with genes from the horrible parent. The eldest stuck to you like glue. He clearly held a candle for his father still, and was having a hard time adjusting to the new lifestyle. Despite that, you continue to push on.

And so did he.

Yandere mob boss binge-watched all of your videos to the point where he knew everything there was to know about you. He knew all the schools you went to, all the partners (you were willing to share) you had previously dated, and he could feel his cold exterior start to crack when he let out a genuine laugh at your witty jokes. He spent hours, weeks, and now months watching your channel flourish and grow.

He smiled when you did. He too let out a sigh of relief after you saved your kid from tripping. He laughed, cried, blushed, and got angry when you did. The expressions and emotions he was feeling were all controlled by your content, and by you personally. You truly had him in the palm of your hand.

[tender-rosiey]

hii! I hope youre doing well ^^ n I have a request!

Fatherhood Gojo, Yuta and Suguru (separate) seeing their daughter have a love interest

let’s say the daughter is like 4-5, just started school with a strong start, one day when they come to pick up their kid— they see a boy that’s also 4-5, giving their daughter flowers or something, how would they react?

(I can imagine mother!reader being delighted at the sight, gojo being dramatic, Yuta being stressed out, and Suguru having a polite smile but yet clenching his fist LMFAO)

“I WILL THROW HANDS AT ANYONE EVEN A KID"

— gojo, sukuna, and suguru seeing their five year old daughter with a love interest (f!reader)

a/n: here you go go <33 i am so sorry bae that I couldn't include yuuta 😭

GOJO SATORU:

your daughter is naturally charismatic.

satoru wholeheartedly believes that it is something she has inherited from him.

you disagree because you can’t remember anybody who remained friends with satoru after actually talking to him, aside from those forced to, of course.

now another thing that satoru believes is that said charisma is a double-edged sword. from one side, his daughter is able to make friends quickly which gives him a piece of mind.

on the other side, the thing that makes his vein pop is the fact that filthy dirt-covered boys approach her.

he thought he had solved that problem when he scared away that last kid during her ballet class , but it seems there are always people who are competing for her heart.

he didn’t expect to run into one today though, especially not one blatantly gifting her a bouquet in front of the school gates.

the kid is a blushing mess as he gives the bouquet to her, and your daughter is nothing less than ecstatic. she jumps around, really happy with her bouquet and squealing about how pretty it is.

the little boy smiles timidly as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt, mumbling something that satoru can’t be bothered to care about.

the only things occupying his mind are two: the kid who dares to even speak to his daughter and you with your cute smile because you’re happy for her.

so, he arranges things as he prioritizes him.

he presses one big smooch to your cheek and squishes you in an ever so love-filled hug.

then he proceeds to make his way to deal with the kid who is making moves on his little baby.

he towers behind the boy, and before his little girl greets him, satoru carries the kid from his scruff and throws him in the ball pit conveniently placed beside him.

the kid screams as he falls into the ball-filled abyss.

hurriedly, he gathers his daughter in his arms and showers her with kisses. he nuzzles his nose into her cheek, “how was your day, honey?”

“it was so nice, papa!” she says happily them gets out the bouquet she was given, “and I even got this bouquet!”

“oh, really?” he hums as he takes the bouquet from her hands into his. he inspects it, distaste filling his expression.

you walk to him with a little pep in your step and place your hand around his shoulder, while you kiss your daughter’s cheek.

she squeals a delightful, “mama!” and throws herself into your arms.

you guys quickly get caught in your own conversations, not noticing satoru quickly releasing his technique blue at the poor bouquet making it effectively disappear from existence.

another day saved.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

being the daughter of ryomen sukuna had its perks.

people strayed away and kept their distance. however, your daughter was a natural sweetheart—ironic considering her father but anyway.

that meant that little boys around estate had a tiny little crush on her which they would never act upon since they do want to continue living.

of course, there is an exception to the norm.

and that exception came in the form of a little servant boy presenting your daughter with a bunch of flowers that he had plucked himself.

your daughter was taken back, and she got flustered but accepted the flowers, nonetheless. on the other hand, you were watching from the side lines and were cheering both her and the boy on.

it was an innocent little gesture between kids. no harm done, so there was no need for—

“what the hell is this?”

you feel your husband’s menacing aura, before you hear his words. you turn to him and rest your hands on his chest and say, “d/n got flowers! isn’t that cute?”

“I can see that,” he grumbles, pinching your cheek in annoyance then directing his gaze to the kids, “but why the hell is a little good-for-nothing servant approaching my daughter? in fact, these servants should not be allowed to talk to her so casually.”

“sukuna, it’s not that big of a deal. just let them be,” you huff, “it’s not like she will fall in love with him, and he will convince her to overthrow you when they’re older.”

your husband stays quiet for a few moments. the man looks like he is actually considering the scenario that you just suggested.

and judging by him slowly approaching the kids, sukuna is going to go with the “better safe than sorry” approach.

you quickly run after him and jump on his back, “love, love, I was joking! please don’t kill him!”

sukuna groans, “and why should I listen to you?”

“cause you love me, and I love you? and we’re husband and wife, y’know?” you smile nervously, and he sets you down, so he can look you in the eye.

“I don’t love you,” he states.

“so I don’t love you?” you inquire.

he smirks, “no, that’s different. you’re obviously infatuated by me.”

“no, loving you is an effect of you loving me, so according to you,” you turn your back to him, “I don’t love you.”

he is about to retort when he feels something holding onto his leg. he looks down, and he sees his daughter beaming up at him.

she raises the flowers as high as she could and chirps, “dad, I got these flowers!”

sukuna’s eyes snap to where the kid was and finds no one. he fled, and he didn’t get to memorize his face. he slowly turns his face to you, and you stand there smirking at him.

he quirks an eyebrow at you, “oh? well, I will deal with you later tonight.”

GETO SUGURU:

you were busy watching over your daughter playing with her playdate. the little boy was your neighbour’s son, and, in general, he was good company.

the boy was polite and knew how to treat your little girl right. similarly, your little girl cherishes him very much and always rambles about him at dinner.

now, initially, suguru was okay with it.

he thought that maybe she was excited about her playdate and that it would eventually wear off, but then she started talking about him every single day since she met him.

suguru prides himself on being rational and collected. he wouldn’t stoop down to a level that gojo would. gojo was a manchild, but suguru? suguru is a grown man, a husband, and a father.

so, no, he won’t do anything to the boy.

and he certainly isn’t rushing to the playdate location, so he can stop the boy from making his daughter talk about him more.

one of his curses was watching the kids, and said curse picked up on the boy sneaking a flower behind his back. suguru concluded that he was definitely going to give it to her.

your husband finally arrives, handing you your ice cream and kissing the top of your head, “your ice cream, just how you like it, love.”

“aww, thank you, suguru,” you say as you hug him and pepper his face with kisses. suguru gets lost in your affection, forgetting about his supposed mission.

it’s not until that he notices the boy’s parents standing with the two kids that he remembers it.

“how about we go and see what the kids are up to?” he asks you, a bit urgently, and you nod, knowing what your husband is thinking.

it’s lowkey funny.

the boy’s mother takes notice of you two approaching, “oh hello mr and mrs geto!”

“hello miss c/n! are the kids getting along well?” you smile while patting your daughter’s head.

the mother giggles, “more than well, in fact. our little boy has given little d/n a flower today!”

from the corner of your eye, you can see your husband’s smile tighten and his face get stiffer and stiffer by the second.

you take his hand into your own and slowly rub it with your thumb. it does little to calm him down.

he claps his hand lightly and steps in front of the parents and says kindly, “please take your little shi—”

he feels you kick his foot from the back and quickly corrects his wording, “please distance your ki—”

you discreetly stomp on his foot, and he tries his hardest to keep his smile. he sighs defeated and hangs his head low, defeated as he mumbles, “have a nice day.”

you nod in satisfaction, and your daughter giggles.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin @babyqueen17 @chaosguy352 @murakami-kotone @sukun4ryomen @yumieis @hearts4itoshi @sleepyxxhead @dunixxd @sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08 @spacebaby1 @arabellatreaty @viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[nadvs]

home before dark (part three)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

Rafe is sitting in a chair in the front room of your home, his chin resting on his hand, hardly paying any attention to the sitcom playing on the tv screen.

He’s pissed off. Why did it have to storm tonight of all nights, when he doesn’t have anything to numb the pain, nothing to drown out the sound of the rain drumming on the windows?

In his haste, he didn’t pack any coke before coming here. He didn’t think he’d need it this bad.

And that photo he saw upstairs. It’s making everything so much fucking worse.

This is how the world repays him for helping someone. Figures. He’s used to having shit luck. Trying to make his own father love him has been a losing game, and he’s been at that for years, so why would anything else go his way?

“Hey.” Rafe straightens when he hears you. You look into the room. “Did the thunder wake you up, too?”

He hasn’t slept at all. But he nods.

There’s a blankness in his stare, the tv casting dull colors over his face. He didn’t bother to turn the light on.

You cross the room, hazy from your interrupted sleep, and settle on the couch. You’re far away from him, acting like you’ve never touched, even though you were just pressed against each other on his motorcycle.

You wonder if it felt nice to him, too. Or if you were just extra weight on his bike, an irritating responsibility he was cornered into taking on.

“Do you have any booze around here?” Rafe mutters. You catch the desolation in his tone.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

You instantly feel ridiculous for expecting you won’t be met with the cold shoulder. You doubt he’ll answer. But then, because the world must be off its axis, he does.

“Fucking hate this weather,” he says.

His words make a chill sink into your bones. You remember your father telling you the news years ago after he got the phone call. A torrential downpour. The freeway. Zero visibility.

Anne lost control of her car.

By the look on your dad’s face, you knew what that meant. Rafe’s mother didn’t survive the wreck.

He doesn’t have to say it. You know that’s why he hates storms.

“I can distract you,” you offer, “if you want?”

It was something you did as kids. Rafe would be angry or sad or hurt or anything and you’d talk his ear off about whatever you could think of until the dark cloud hanging over him drifted away.

His feelings always felt too big for him. You were the best at making them small enough to manage.

Rafe is used to wanting to be left alone. But not right now. Not if he can be with you. Admitting it feels impossible. The wall he spent years building around himself is solid from both sides.

“It’s your house,” he finally says. “Do what you want.”

You take it an invitation to stay. You turn your attention to the tv, as if holding eye contact with him will make him take it back.

It gives him a chance to look at you. How the fuck have you not lost patience with him yet? Why do you still care?

“I keep wanting to ask why you’re helping me,” you say, just loud enough to be heard over the tv.

Rafe exhales sharply, rubbing his forehead.

“This is you distracting me,” he scoffs. “Aren’t you supposed to do the talking?”

The fact that he’s expecting you to replicate the days of your youth gives you a sliver of hope that maybe he misses them, too.

“There has to be a reason you’re doing it,” you murmur.

“Can’t you just be happy that I am?” he responds. A white flash of lighting pools into the room for a split second.

“No,” you say. Finally, he gives in.

“Because I…” he begins.

The noise from the show is adding to the frustrating confusion engulfing him. He angrily picks up the remote and turns the tv off, plunging both of you in darkness.

You turn your head towards him again, only able to make out the hard outline of his jaw.

“I always had to look out for you,” he says. “I guess I still do.”

You look down at your lap, taken aback that Rafe holds any sense of loyalty for you.

You almost want to remind him of what he said earlier, that you’re not kids anymore, but you don’t want to challenge him.

“And I don’t know why,” he adds, voice thin, “but you’re not a dick to me like everyone else is, so I kind of owe you.”

All you can hear is your own breathing and the ticking of the clock in the foyer and the tap of faltering raindrops. The storm is passing.

“It’s because you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say into the silence. “It’s not like you did something to make me hate you. You shut me out, but I get why.”

Your words reverberate through him. He wonders if you think that he hates you.

Still, you could have gone to any other guy and asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend.

“Why’d you come to me?” he asks.

“Because he’s scared of you.” You don’t have to nor do you want to say your ex’s name.

“And you’re not?”

“No.” You tilt your head. “We used to be best friends.”

You say it like he wouldn’t remember. He couldn’t erase it from his brain if he tried. And he has.

The heaviness of all this is suffocating to him. The past is done. There’s no point in digging up things that’ll just hurt him all over again.

He stands up, chasing out the familiarity that was slowly growing between you. But before he leaves the room, he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose with trembling fingers.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, either, alright?” Rafe says into the dark, irritated, answering the question you asked him on the shoreline hours ago. “Not on purpose.”

As his shadow retreats, the words he left you with ring in your head. He doesn’t blame you. But you did do something wrong.

Rafe had his head buried into his pillow, throat burning from crying through his grief, every night for months.

As he lies in an unfamiliar bed all for a girl whose very existence makes him feel a multitude of good and bad all at once, he’s thrown back into those days, as if he’s a boy again.

His mother used to tell him it was a strength to be so sensitive, but her voice faded and his father’s voice got so much louder. What he tells him every time Rafe can’t swallow down the tears echoes in his mind. Toughen up. You’re fine.

But he’s not fine. He can’t stop crying and he knows he has to tell you he can’t do this anymore. Being with you brings back too much.

But the next morning, when Rafe finds you sitting at the kitchen island, wearing your pajamas and a smile, the prospect of ending this is tossed away.

You have access to him that nobody else does. You and that damn smile are a weakness that he didn’t know he had. And while he can act happy and careless around everyone else, he can’t put on an act for you. Ever.

“How’d you sleep?” you ask. Your hands are cupping a mug, your phone sitting beside it.

“Like shit,” Rafe replies, pacing to the fridge. “Took hours to fall asleep.”

You feel guilty that he didn’t have a good rest, considering he’s only here because you were too frightened to be alone.

“You?” he says after a beat. The ice must be melting if he’s actually asking about you for once.

“My sleep was good,” you reply. “It helped having you here.”

Rafe’s cheeks get warm. Someone actually wanting him around is a foreign feeling.

By the time your conversation was over last night, the rain and thunder had dwindled. It couldn’t have been the storm keeping him awake. Curiosity pushes you to figure it out.

“Was the bed uncomfortable?” you ask.

“No,” he answers. He finds a glass and fills it with water. His throat still hurts from crying last night.

You watch him, his presence commanding as he leans back against the counter opposite you. The dark, shallow bags beneath his eyes are illuminated in the bright lights above you. He looks exhausted.

“Was the room too warm? Or too cold?” you say.

“Can you relax?” Rafe huffs, his tone almost playful.

He isn’t about to admit that he can’t remember the last time he fell asleep sober. And he’s definitely not going to tell you that the last thing he thought about before finally passing out was that his cheeks burned from how hard he was wiping his tears away.

“The least I can do is make sure you’re comfortable since I made you stay the night,” you say.

His brows furrow as he takes a long gulp, tipping his head back.

“Nobody can make me do anything,” he replies once he downs the water. You know it’s the truth. It makes the fact that he’s doing this for you all the more meaningful.

Before you can respond, your phone buzzes loudly on the countertop. Rafe sees your face fall when your eyes drop to the screen. You read the notification for a moment, then sigh and shake your head.

“He emailed me,” you say incredulously. “I blocked him on everything and he emailed me.”

Rafe leans over to see if you’ll let him look for himself. You slide your phone towards him and he picks it up to read Ty’s message.

What you have with him isn’t real. We both know it. Let me prove that I can treat you how you deserve. Please. I’m sorry for everything. I love you.

A part of Rafe is concerned you’ll fall for it.

“What’re you gonna do?” he asks.

“Block him there, too,” you mutter. “He does this. He’s mean, then he pretends like he changed, then he’s mean again… It’s the same bullshit over and over.”

Rafe blocks him for you and places your phone on the counter. You bite the inside of your cheek as the dread you always feel when Ty contacts you floods your every sense.

The despair on your face makes Rafe’s stomach sink. The next time he sees Ty, he’s beating the shit out of him.

“He’ll stop, okay? I’ll make him,” he says.

You’re still skeptical. Rafe definitely scares him, but Ty called him a bullshit rebound last night. He wrote that what you have with Rafe isn’t real. You’re not fooling him. And you’re afraid he won’t leave you alone until he believes you’re actually in a new relationship now.

“Yeah.” You exhale slowly. “Doesn’t sound like he’s falling for this, though.” You motion between you and him.

Rafe has to take a moment to catch your meaning. Falling for this. Your pretend relationship. Right.

“I didn’t tell anyone it’s fake,” you say, afraid it somehow got out. “Did you?”

Rafe shakes his head no and puts his empty glass in the sink. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you again.

“Do you want me to keep crashing here until your mom and dad get back?” he asks.

You hate that your mind goes there, but you wonder when the last time he said mom out loud was. You shake away the thought.

“Not if you can���t get any actual sleep,” you respond.

Rafe typically gets irritated when someone can’t make up their mind. He wants everything done quickly, so he doesn’t have to stop and think.

But this is you and even though you’re scared of sleeping on your own, you’re considering how staying here affects Rafe and it gives him a heavy feeling of shame. He spent years avoiding the only person who never abandoned him. The only person who still gives a shit.

“I’ll just leave my stuff here,” he says, making the decision for you.

“Thank you.” You mean it. The thought of someone being here with you is comforting.

As usual, Rafe ends the conversation quickly and abruptly, leaving the room. You soon hear the engine of his motorcycle rattling loudly from outside, the roar fading as he drives away.

You hoped that he’d at least want to hang out with you now. You don’t understand why you keep expecting more from him. It just hurts you every time.

You don’t hear from Ty for the rest of the day. You manage to run some errands without worrying you’ll see him because even when Rafe isn’t with you, you don’t feel as scared knowing he’s in your corner.

The days of the week mean practically nothing on the north side of the island over the summer. There’s a party almost every night, this time at a house just down the street from you.

You invite your friends to your place, drinking as you get ready, deciding to walk over to the party. You turn up already tipsy, finding yourself looking for Rafe even though you know you should only really be doing that if Ty is bothering you.

When you walk into the loud, crowded house, seeing you reminds Rafe of why he isn’t smoking or drinking or snorting anything tonight.

He’s had countless fights while wasted, but he wants to have a clear mind when he sees Ty. He needs to make the fucker pay and not give him a chance to get even one punch in.

You meet Rafe’s blue eyes every so often throughout the night, glad you’re finally able to have fun again because you know he’s keeping you safe.

The second Ty walks in, even though he hasn’t come close to approaching you, you make your way to Rafe.

You stand close to him, placing your hand in his, acting like a girlfriend to someone who is only doing this because he feels an overdue sense of loyalty to you.

Rafe stills for a moment before he laces his fingers with yours. His skin is hot, making your heart flutter in a way you know it shouldn’t.

“Hey,” you say over the music. His ring presses against your thumb.

“Hey,” he says tensely. He’s not used to affection, especially in front of people.

But this is what he signed up for. He needs to act like a boyfriend and he’s not going to fuck this up. It’s the first real responsibility he’s had that he actually gives a shit about.

His eyes land on Ty and his plan to confront him takes a backseat when he realizes he doesn’t want to let go of you. Right now, he’d rather have his hand in yours instead of using it to throw a punch. It’s like every touch you give him leaves a heavier impact than the last.

You immediately notice how tense Rafe is.

“Can you relax?” you joke, imitating the way he said it this morning. Your heart warms when his dimples appear, framing a smile he can’t stifle.

“I don’t sound like that,” he says.

“You sound exactly like that,” you reply with a laugh, picturing how tired he looked in your kitchen. “Please tell me you got some sleep today.”

Again, the concern you seem to have never lost for him appears.

“I did,” he says. He crashed in his bed the second he got home.

“How come it took you so long to fall asleep last night?”

Rafe’s knee-jerk reaction is to avoid the question. Especially if it’s you asking. But he can’t forget how shitty it felt when you brushed him off last night at the beach, so he pushes himself to answer.

“Just, uh…” He looks away. “Couldn’t turn off my brain.”

You gaze up at him. It almost aches, how badly you’d love to know what goes through his mind.

“When did this start?” one of his friends amusedly asks, pointing between you two. You notice Ty close by, his gaze sharp as he eavesdrops. Rafe notices him, too.

You squeeze Rafe’s hand tighter, clinging to him. He notices that his entire body buzzes when you do that.

“What, was I supposed to call you?” Rafe responds.

“I’m just saying,” his friend replies with a laugh, “it’s like all of a sudden, you got a girl out of nowhere.”

Alarm stings every inch of your skin when you notice Ty’s posture straighten in your peripheral.

“Don’t sound so surprised, asshole,” Rafe replies lightheartedly, gently pulling his hand out of your grasp to drape his heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him.

You follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his torso. The relief from how well he played it off and the comfort you get from how he’s holding you is overwhelming.

Rafe dips his head to speak into your ear, his cheek brushing against yours, his cologne fresh.

“Think he’s falling for it now?” he mumbles, voice lowering an octave. With the way he’s holding you, you might fall for it yourself.

“Yeah,” you breathe. You squeeze him tighter, not for show, but because you want to. You’ve wanted to hug him since the funeral, when he was a boy with bloodshot eyes in a crumpled black suit, but he never let you get this close.

He brings his other hand up to your face, cradling your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your cheek. His touch is so tender that you have to remind yourself it’s Rafe doing this.

You’re suspended, bodies curved together, cheeks brushing, like you’re playing a game to see who’ll let go first.

“And he’s staying away from you, right?” His breath is warm against the shell of your ear.

You nod, at a loss for words.

“Is he watching?” he asks. You can see from the corner of your eye that your ex is staring right at you.

“Mhm,” you hum with a nod.

At this point, Rafe is being selfish. This is close enough. You wanted him to act like you’re a couple and he’s done it. He can pull away now. Maybe he should keep his arm around you for a little longer, but he doesn’t need to be this close.

Instead, he lowers to press his lips against your cheek and you hug him tighter, and fuck, it feels so good that he misses it before it’s even over.

He can’t believe that his body yearns to be this close to you. You opened up the floodgates the second you put your hand on him the first time a couple of nights ago. How good would it feel if you were doing it for real?

You lean into his kiss. His lips are so soft. You wish you could feel them against yours. It’s all to make everyone think you’re actually together. You keep telling yourself that.

When your arms around him weaken just a little, you feel something at his back, protruding against your forearm.

Your eyebrows draw together as you pull back only a few inches to meet Rafe’s eyes, your mind going to the worst possible scenario. Your breath catches. It’s a weapon.

“What is that?” you ask quietly, nudging against the hard item tucked into the band of his jeans.

“What do you think?”

“Rafe,” you say. His jaw tightens. The moment is gone. The wall is back up. Your tone teeters on a thin edge, like you’re judging him.

“You’re surprised the psycho owns a gun?” he scoffs.

He didn’t brush off what Ty said like you thought he did. It makes your stomach turn that your ex’s lie actually stuck with Rafe.

You glance over to see Ty’s back as he storms out of the room. Part of you is relieved, but right now, you mostly feel anxious that Rafe believes a lie.

“I never called you that,” you reiterate to him quietly. “I’ve never said anything bad about you. You think you can trust what he says?”

“I’m not planning on using it on him, okay?” Rafe snaps. “Unless he asks for it.”

He wishes you didn’t notice it. If you didn’t think he was fucked up before, you do now. He’s pissed off and embarrassed and disappointed all at once.

You’ve been trying to reconnect with him for so long. If he gives in, you’ll see that he’s not even close to who he was when you knew him. He’ll just let you down.

He realizes he hasn’t kept his distance only because you’re a painful reminder of a time he wants to forget. It’s also because he’s sure you wouldn’t like who he’s become. And he can’t take the rejection.

You’re still, unable to believe that he actually has a gun. That he would use it. That these are the lengths he’s going to to keep you safe.

You haven’t lost contact with him, but Rafe checks out of the moment and pulls his arm away.

“He’s gone now,” he mutters. You get the message. He’s done pretending. You drop your arms and find your friends again.

Hours later, the party is dwindling, but far from over. Rafe has been sober the entire time, making him all the more antsy and irritable.

He thought he’d beat the shit out of Ty tonight, but he’s exhausted and he can’t stop shaking. Why the hell is he shaking?

Rafe loses his patience and approaches you while you’re dancing with your friends.

“Let’s go,” he says, holding your hand. The contact makes your head spin all over again. Even though you’d like to stay, you comply.

You notice Ty’s eyes on you when you leave. He’s pretending to be a good guy again, keeping his distance, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he cracks.

Once you reach Rafe’s motorcycle in the cool night air, he hands you his helmet and you take it without hesitation.

After the short drive, you walk up the steps to your front door together. But you soon stop in your tracks, eyes wide as you stare at the ground.

Rafe follows your eye line. Mud’s been tracked onto the porch in fragmented footprints.

“I can’t… I can’t remember if that was there before,” you stammer. “Did you see it this morning?”

“I don’t know,” he responds. He rushed out of here too quickly to have noticed something like that.

You look around, as if you can find an answer in the darkness surrounding your home. You would have noticed it after you ran your errands earlier today. Probably. Maybe.

It could have been you. Or Rafe. Or one of your friends.

Or Ty. He didn’t arrive at the party until late into the night. Could he have been creeping around your house? Why would he?

Rafe glances up to confirm that there aren’t any cameras aiming at the door. It pisses him off when he notices there aren’t any cameras at all. He quickly catches on that your breathing has grown faster.

“Come on,” he says, gently pulling you by the crook of your elbow. “Let’s go inside. It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t believe his own words, but there’s no reason to scare you any further.

“What if he was here?” you say, letting Rafe pull you to the door. He takes the key out of your hand and pushes it into the lock.

“Then I’ll shoot him,” he mutters.

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

The door swings open, prompting the security system to start beeping.

You flip on the light and enter the code as he shuts the door behind you. You’re so frightened and unnerved that you jam one of the buttons with the wrong finger, prompting a harsh error noise from the system.

“Can you do this?” you huff. You tell Rafe the five-digit code and he quickly enters it, arming the system again. You notice his hand is trembling.

“Are you okay?” you ask. You know it’s not from fear. Rafe isn’t afraid of anything. He must be high on something. “What’d you take?”

“Nothing,” he says with a humorless laugh. It dawns on him that his body is reacting to the lack of coke in his system. “That’s the problem.”

“What?” you ask.

Rafe sighs, double-checking that the front door is locked for your peace of mind.

“I can’t be wasted if that asshole tries me. I haven’t taken anything since last night,” he says. “But it just made shit worse.”

He realizes how messed up it sounds. How messed up it is that being sober for one night makes him shake like this. He has a problem. But he never really had a reason to get clean before now.

You watch Rafe checking the lock and like a riptide, everything crashes down on you at once.

The torment from Ty harassing you. The guilt from asking Rafe to take on this responsibility. The sadness from knowing that he’s only doing it because he feels a sense of obligation for you and wants nothing more.

“Bet you’re glad I have a gun now,” Rafe mutters. He turns to look at you, your expression grim. “What?”

“I don’t want to keep bothering you with this,” you admit, your heart racing with panic. “I don’t want you to have to sleep here and I don’t want you to have to drive me home all the time and… I hate that this is happening and that I had to drag you into it.”

His eyes travel over the anguish etched on your face.

“What, like it’s your fault he’s a piece of shit?” he says.

You chew on the inside of your cheek and look up to the ceiling, trying to keep your tears at bay. It’s still odd being alone with him, having him in your home.

Rafe hasn’t tried to make someone feel better in a long time. He hasn’t cared enough to. He takes a deep breath.

“I don’t mind doing this, alright?” he says.

“You don’t?” You take in the softness in his eyes that you don’t often see.

“Think I’d be here if I did?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “You used to do things you didn’t want to all the time for me.”

The Rafe that was your best friend always went along with whatever you wanted to play, wherever you wanted to go.

He grits his teeth, tearing his eyes off of you, trying not to think about how when he was a kid, if someone asked him who his favorite person was, he’d tell them that it was a tie between you and his mom.

“Don’t talk about how shit used to be,” he says quietly. And because he doesn’t want to see that hurt look on your face again, he adds, “Please.”

The mere prospect of talking about the past seems to actually give him pain. It dawns on you that you’re looking at a man who may have never processed what happened to him.

“Do you want something to eat?” you offer, changing the subject swiftly.

Rafe realizes he’s starving.

“Yeah,” he says.

A memory washes over you as Rafe sits at your kitchen counter, eating leftovers you heated up for him.

It was a humid summer day and you two were scarfing down the lunch his mother made for you after a morning of swimming behind his house.

Rafe always liked picking the wildflowers that grew in the grass that lined the beach for his mom. The ones he found that day were purple, sitting in a small vase she put in the center of the dining room table.

Every time he gave her a small bundle of uneven flowers, she had the same joyful reaction. Rafe always looked so proud of himself when she enthusiastically thanked her son.

It was just another happy day.

Until Ward came into the kitchen and like always, Rafe’s smile disappeared. Your best friend tended to shrink when his dad was around. Ward almost always found something to chide his son about. He never spoke like that to his daughters.

“Could you eat any faster?” Ward muttered. “Where are your manners?”

“Leave him alone, Ward,” Anne said with a sigh. His mother’s tone was only ever sharp when she was defending her little boy.

You remember watching her lean to kiss Rafe’s head, earning a small smile from him. Then she winked at you, trying to dismiss the tension from the room.

You wonder what Ward has said to Rafe ever since he lost the only person who stuck up for him.

You face the sink as you wash your hands, your back to Rafe, trying to stifle the tears that build as you imagine what the world would be like if the wreck never happened. Who would Rafe be if he never lost her? If a part of him didn’t die with her?

Is it crazy to think that you’d still be best friends, instead of two strangers pushed together in such an arduous situation? You miss her so much that it hurts and all this is yet another thing adding to the weight sitting on your shoulders.

Rafe hears you sniffle and when you finally turn around, you stare at the floor as you try to rush away.

“What is it?” he asks. Is he already failing at making you feel safe?

You freeze. You can’t tell him what’s really bothering you. Especially since he asked you not to talk about your memories.

“I’m just freaked out.” It’s not exactly what you’re thinking of now, but it’s true. This mess with Ty is a nightmare. “If he was really creeping around here… Ugh, I don’t know what he’s going to do next.”

Rafe chews slower as he observes you through narrow eyes. He’s no stranger to the pain of crying to sleep. He doesn’t want that for you.

You notice his hands are still trembling. You have no idea how often he does coke, but it must be an addiction if one night without it makes his body react like this.

“What else do you need?” he asks. It comes out sharper than he intended, like he’s asking what else you could possibly want from him after he’s given you so much.

Your lips thin as you stare at him from across the counter. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look so miserable.

“Nothing,” you mutter. “Good night.”

You start to walk away but Rafe says your name to stop you and it sounds so good coming out of his mouth that your stomach numbs. When was the last time he said it?

You turn to look at him. His eyes dart down to his food.

“What if…” he begins, his fork loudly clattering against the dish. “Would it help if I slept in your room?”

You’re surprised. And soothed by the thought of him sleeping close by in case your ex does something as unhinged as break in.

Everyone else paints Rafe as rude and aggressive, but you knew it. You knew he still had some kindness in him.

“Yeah,” you say. “It would help.”

(part four)

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