#i still enjoy the show and i think (i hope) they’ll be able to find their footing in s2

[thoughts-of-bear]

The birthday gift

A Halsin x reader fanfiction | Explicit, 18+ | 7k words A/N: Okay since the Halsin brainrot has had its hold on me for ages, I started this fic on my birthday in december, not expecting to ever finish it because I have literally never finished anything I've started writing before- until now. I got inspired to write this by this post (for the birthday part, the smut part is my own horny imagination) and well, this is the final product. Since it's my first time publishing any of my writing and writing smut at all, please be kind with me XD Summary: Your companions prepare a surprise birthday party for you, Halsin sees you in your new dress, you two dancing leads to him confessing his feelings for you and a very happy ending... CW: halsin x f!reader, virgin reader, halsin eating pussy, fingering, p in v sex, breeding, rough sex i guess, halsin being the man he is, all that stuff idk what to write here really

I hope you enjoy it, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

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You and your companions had finally reached Baldur’s Gate. It’s still morning when you enter Rivington that day and the streets are busy with all kinds of people, many seemingly refugees from Elturel and farther away, here to find shelter in the city. As you continue down the road to the village in front of the city gates, you are stopped by a little red-headed girl.

“Erm. ‘Scuse me, I can’t find my mum.” She looks worn out and as if she has recently been crying.

“Where did you last see her?” you ask as you bend down to her, smiling to show you want to help.

“She went to go get some herbs - for her spots” she gestures towards her face. “She was sick. And she was supposed to come back the same day.” She pauses before adding, “That was last tenday though.”

“Let’s go find a guard. They’ll be able to help you”, you propose.

The girl shakes her head. “Guards blow like petards. They don’t help us.”

Your heart sinks at these words. It seems all these people were here because the city wouldn’t take them in. And the guards are no help either, apparently. You wonder what happened to your city, where once everyone was welcome.

Halsin sighs and shakes his head in disapproval. “This city is a poor place to be in need of help. Even the guards can’t be trusted to protect the most vulnerable.”

You silently agree and think of how you could help that girl. You decide to spare a few coins, so she can buy herself some food.

“I don’t know where your mum is, but here - take a few coins”, you offer her, not able to tell her that her mother is most likely dead. Halsin smiles at you warmly as you shoot him a quick glance, the sight making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh - erm. Thank you so much! I don’t have anything and you can’t do anything without any coin”, the little girl exclaims, bobbing on her toes and suddenly looking a little less tired. “I’ll pay you back. When I find my mum.” She turns around and bolts. “No need, it’s a gift!” you call after her but she has already vanished in the crowd.

You finally arrive at Wyrm’s Rock Crossing in the evening, after you had snuck past one of the new city guards - the so-called Steel Watch - and promised to investigate the murder of the local Ilmater priest. Another incident that seems to fuel the hate towards the refugees.

And that isn’t even all. The city is closed, even for you as a Baldurian, and to get in you’d need an Admission Pass - or wings. You sigh. You just want to get into the city, rent a room in the Elfsong and think about what to do next, now that the Absolute’s army must soon be upon the city.

It’s all too much and too little time. And you can’t just turn away from the people you met in Rivington either, they need help just as much as you need to find out how to beat the Absolute’s Chosen and get rid of the tadpoles.

When you make your way around camp that evening, checking up on your companions, Halsin notices your exhaustion, the way you slump your shoulders and how your usually impeccable stance falters. He wants to relieve you of at least a bit of the tension, so when you walk over to him, he offers you a massage. The things he wants to say to you can wait until tomorrow.

“Thank you, Halsin”, you accept, his hands turning you around and gently pushing you down to sit on your knees before him. You sigh as his broad hands knead the tension from your back and by the time he is finished, you feel like a sleepy, boneless lump of flesh, muscles completely relaxed. You thank Halsin again before you retire to your bedroll, the hopeful thought that the offer might’ve been more than Halsin’s usual kindness crossing your mind before you drift off to sleep.

The next evening, you were finally inside the city walls. You consider the new information of the day. How you got your hands on an invitation to the celebration at Wyrm’s rock fortress, your disbelief to see that it was Lord Gortash’s coronation as Arch Duke, how he made the tadpoled Duke Ravengard give up his power and how Bane’s Chosen then proposed an alliance against Orin, the shapeshifter that had already approached you in Rivington. You had agreed to kill her, but you definitely wouldn’t leave Gortash his Netherstone. But that is a problem for another day. You had managed to get a room in the Elfsong Tavern and as usual you make your way through it to hear what your companions think of all that had happened today. Most approve of your decision. Halsin is the last person you speak to and as always, he has just the right words to ease your worries. For now, at least.

“Wait-”, he grabs your arm before you can leave. “I didn’t thank you yet.” His large hand is warm and makes your skin tingle where it touches you.

“Thank me? For what?” He chuckles at your puzzled look. “For all that you did in Rivington yesterday. You have so many worries and yet you still go out of your way to help those in need. The way you made that little girl smile, or how you didn’t hesitate to investigate what happened to that Ilmater priest.” A blush creeps up your cheeks as he continues. “I’m afraid Nature’s balance can never be restored in a city like this, but seeing what you do every day without expecting anything in return gives me hope. And for that I thank you.” You smile up at him, lost for words with your heart beating fast.

“I appreciate you saying this. I wish I could to more, to help everyone, but if I can at least do a little good, it’s worth the exhaustion at the end of the day”, you eventually admit with a smile. Halsin grins. “You’re too modest. I wager you don’t even know how extraordinary you truly are.” Your cheeks blush an even deeper red at those words and only when you retire to bed for the evening does your heart resume its normal pace again. But the warm feeling Halsin’s presence gave you remained for the night.

After you had the first proper breakfast since your crash with the Nautiloid, you feel ready to explore the city and find out how to best deal with all your problems. You hadn’t particularly missed the bustle and noise of your old home, but you can’t help feeling safer now that you were in familiar surroundings again.

Gale proposed to go to Sorcerous Sundries, both to find out more about the Elderbrain’s crown and to see what the wizard there wants with your companion Nightsong. Since you don’t have an idea where to find Orin yet, you figure that this is as good as any other thing you could be doing. 

The way from Elfsong to the magic shop isn’t far and you still have some time before it opens, so you decide to stop by the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette to update yourself on any news you had missed in your absence and struggle with the Absolute.

Scanning the title page, you notice the date in the corner and your brows shoot up in surprise. Noticing this, Gale asks if you found anything important in the newspaper.

“No, it’s just that I realised today is my birthday and I've completely forgotten about it. That means we have been on the road for more than two months already”, you wonder aloud before you add, “It doesn’t feel that long.”

“Well, then we have to celebrate of course!” Gale exclaims happily. You smile at his enthusiasm but shake your head. “We have bigger problems for now. Let’s see what this Lorroakan wants with Dame Aylin and then get on with our business. Besides,” you shrug, “we didn’t celebrate birthdays in my monastery anyways so I won’t miss anything.”

“If you say so,” Gale replies and you turn your attention back towards the page you were studying before.

You had already forgotten about the conversation as you come into your chamber in the Elfsong, grateful for the few minutes alone during the bath you had taken and the respite for your tired body.

But the moment you enter the room, Karlach and Shadowheart drag you to a set dinner table, laden with the most delicious food you could imagine. There aren’t your ordinary fish heads and the mouldy bread you usually have to call supper, instead delicious smelling pork roasts, pies, glazed carrots and potatoes, deep red apples and more pile atop the table, all lovingly placed around a huge flower bouquet in the middle of it.

You are so overwhelmed by the amount of work your friends must’ve put into this, that you can only stutter a ‘thank you’ before Karlach announces, “Happy birthday soldier! Halsin, Gale and Shadowheart here told us that today is your birthday and you never had a proper party before, so we decided to prepare you a little something!” With a grin she gestures from the table to one of the unoccupied beds, where a few packages are placed.

“You brought me presents too? You really didn’t have to!” you exclaim in surprise. You are so touched that your friends -among all the trouble- still found time to prepare the presents and this party for you that you feel tears well up in your eyes.

“Darling, no need to cry,” Astarion laughs as he pushes you onto your designated chair. “This is a party and not a funeral! Go ahead and enjoy yourself, it’s your special day after all!”

With a sniff and a small chuckle at Astarion’s words you sit down properly. He is right, of course, and you all clearly enjoy having a small break from the worries you faced at the moment.

Smiling hesitantly, you grab some meat and vegetables and start to eat - it really is delicious. You revel in the laughter and conversations with your friends, your weariness from todays fight forgotten for the moment.

When all of you can’t possibly eat any more, Karlach drags you over to the bed with the presents. You can tell she is excited to see if you like the few things your companions managed to get you in the time they had for preparing, so you start unpacking.

The first present contains a book on the monastery you were raised in, with a handwritten note from Gale:

“I’m sure you already know most information this book has to offer, but I thought it might still bring you comfort and remind you of home.” You thank him with a tight hug and carefully place the book into your bag.

The next package is a bottle of the finest liquor of the Elfsong Tavern, plus a sparkler for every one of your companions which Karlach sets of immediately.

Laughing at her shenanigans, you reach for the last and biggest present. It is wrapped in red paper and decorated with a little white bow. You wonder where your companions had managed to find all those things while you carefully pull the paper open. Soon a dress falls out of the packaging and you gaze at it in awe. Your fingers trace the deep forest green fabric, intricate silver and gold patterns weaved into it.

“This is beautiful, thank you, truly!” you say earnestly. You still can’t quite believe that all this should be for you. “I thought you would like it”, smiles Shadowheart. “And I’m certain it will suit you beautifully. Go now - try it on!” she urges you.

You walk to the bathroom which still smells of the quince-scented soap you had used for your bath a few hours before. While changing, you bask in that warm feeling in your chest these moments among your friends always grant you. Whatever problems you had encountered, in your opinion they have all been worth it just for the people you found and let into your heart along the way. As cheesy as that sounds.

You regard yourself in the mirror. The dress is cut low and close-fitting, capturing your cleavage in a very flattering way. Maybe too flattering, if you think about it too much. This isn’t something you’d usually wear, but you have to admit that you like the way the dress looks on you. A bit insecure you go back into your room, where you are greeted with approving cheers and whistles from your friends.

“You look absolutely stunning”, Shadowheart admires. “I knew it would look good on you! Turn around please”, she commands. You do what you are told, with red cheeks at the compliment.

When you face Shadowheart again, you notice Halsin gazing at you with pure admiration - and something else you can’t quite place. You think you notice a golden shimmer in his eyes, but that could be a trick of the light considering all the candles in the room.

“I must admit, your neck looks very tempting in that dress but I know someone who is a lot hungrier for you than me right now”, Astarion remarks with a wicked grin and a sideward glance. You frown at him, though you can’t help your heart skipping a beat at these words. Could he possibly mean Halsin?

“Now, what would a party be without some music and dance?” Wyll interrupts your thoughts and as if these words have summoned her, the bard the party had met in the druid grove appears in the doorway.

“Alfira!” you exclaim happily and immediately rush over to hug her. “I’m so glad you got to Baldur’s Gate alright!”

Alfira grins at you. “Yes, thanks to you and your friends here. When they reached out to me today and told me it was your birthday, I just had to come! Wyll organised everything.” You nod to him in thanks. “Now, I don’t have anything to give you but just tell me what you want to hear and I will play it for you!”

“Thanks, Alfira, that’s more than enough for me”, you beam and lead her into the room towards your group. “Wyll, now is your chance to show me your dancing!” You say as you take his hand and pull him into the middle of the room, then you grab Karlach and Gale and start to move to the tune Alfira started to play. Karlach swirls you around and Wyll shows you the dance moves from court, which -to be honest- remind you a bit of the mating dances you had seen with a few bird species.

Out of breath from all the dancing and laughing, you request a slower tune from the tiefling bard. You manage to persuade Shadowheart to put away her wine for a moment and start to waltz around the room with her. She is quite the good dancer and you wonder where she had learned it, with her being raised in a Sharran temple and everything.

At the next tune, you approach Halsin. With your head light from the wine, you have finally gathered the courage to ask him for what you have secretly thought about the whole time.

Still, you can feel your heart beating in your throat. “Erm…Halsin, w-would you honour me with a dance?” you eventually manage to mumble out shyly.

“Of course, little flower. Whatever your heart desires.” That particular heart skips a beat at his intimate tone. “Although you might wish you hadn’t asked me that once you’ve seen my dancing”, he adds with a chuckle as he takes your hand.

He leads you into the room and starts to swirl you around to the melody of Alfira’s lute. He definitely isn’t as graceful as Shadowheart but certainly not as bad as he has made it sound. But even if he’d had the dancing skills of a bugbear, you wouldn’t have noticed. His large and warm hand around your waist and the smile with which he regards you sends your pulse through the ceiling. His smell of pine and honey and fresh air intoxicates you and it is hard to keep your feet from getting tangled in your dress.

When he leans down to you, you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. “Before you go and mingle again, I still have a present for you. I wasn’t sure if you would even like it”, he admits, “but I have decided to give it to you anyways.” When the tune ends, he leads you to the space in your room where his bed stands and bends down to search his pack.

You think about how long it took you to realise how attracted you are to the druid as you admire his strong back before you. Of course, you have noticed his kindness and compassion and you have always marvelled at the way he drew strength from nature. But only since you had some kind of break these last days have you begun to understand the depth of your affection for the man before you. It runs deeper than mere friendship and the echo of his hands on your back have awoken a hunger inside you that only grows stronger the more you look at Halsin. How desperately you hope that he feels the same way about you…

When he stands up to turn around, you quickly brush away the thought that has sent the heat into your cheeks again.

“You’re the only one who knows of my secret passion”, he begins jokingly, “so I thought you might accept this as my present for your special day.” He hands you a small whittled duck he has apparently made in the hours you were away from camp. You can’t help but tear up at the thought of how much effort he has put into all the details he has carved. There are even small webbed feet on the underside of the little duck.

“Thank you Halsin, this is an amazing gift!” You smile down at the little duck. “You are amazing”, you add quietly.

“With all that you have done for me, I should be the one thanking you night and day.” As you look into his eyes again you see that his gaze is now very solemn. “There was another reason for wanting to speak to you privately. I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now.” Your heart flutters in recognition of his words, the confession sending sparks across your skin.

“I want more than to fight at your side, or to sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine.” Halsin’s gaze on you is intense, filling your chest with a burning heat that slowly spreads lower into your belly, as if the wine you have been drinking suddenly caught on fire inside of you.

Halsin continues, “I think you feel the same way - but tell me I’m wrong and the matter can rest. I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more.”

You stare at him for a moment before you realise that he waits for your answer.

“Y-you’re not wrong, far from it”, you whisper. “I would like that very much.” You smile up at him and he takes your hand in his.

“May I kiss you?” he breathes out, relieved. You nod and he bends down to gently press his lips on yours.

His hand slides up your arm and to your back while he places his other behind your head, gently pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.

You feel his tongue prodding at your lips, demanding entrance and you happily oblige. The feeling of his soft lips on yours sends you spiralling and you can’t stifle the small moan that escapes you. Halsin sends out a silent prayer to Silvanus - if that is all it takes to make you moan, what sounds do you make when he finally gets to taste you? Groaning, his hand on your back slowly wanders lower, a silent question of permission in his eyes. You press your body against his as an answer, feeling the heat radiating off his chest … and lower.

Halsins hand grips your ass firmly, making you gasp, the other joining in and hoisting you up on his hips, turning you both around and pressing your back to the wall. You cannot stop the surprised squeak that escapes your lips at the sudden movement and Halsin presses his mouth on yours to stifle it.

The feeling of the growing bulge in his pants between your legs and the low moan Halsin utters before kissing you even more vigorously sends a shiver down your spine, pressure starting to build between your thighs.

In a desperate attempt to pull him closer, your hands grip Halsin’s hair, arms, everything you can reach. But before you can lose yourself in him, Halsin releases your lips, panting, and rests his forehead against yours.

“I would very much like to continue”, he whispers, his breathing ragged and voice hoarse with desire, “but the others will expect us back and I think you would probably like a bit more privacy.” He sighs and softly kisses your hair. “I will come to your bed when the party has ended, little flower. But don’t expect much sleep”, he adds with a wicked grin. You can only nod as he gently props you back on your feet.

With your head spinning, you get back to the others, averting your eyes from the knowing smirks of Astarion and Shadowheart noticing your ruffled hair and flushed cheeks. You ignore them, trying to engage in some more conversation and one or two dances while the thought of what awaits you won’t leave your head.

When the last of the party finally bids you goodnight, you hurry to bed, awaiting Halsin. You can’t get away from the echoes of his hands on your body, heart already racing again and warmth blooming in your belly. Even if he hadn’t promised you he’d come tonight, you would’ve been unable to sleep.

A soft rustle next to your ear startles you from your thoughts and as you turn your head, you could make out Halsin’s large figure in the dark, crouching beside your bed.

He cuts you off from what you wanted to say by placing a finger on your mouth, his other hand sliding under your back and pulling you into an upright position. With your heart beating into your throat, you take the hand Halsin offers as he gently beckons you to follow him into the corridor outside of the room the party shares, then further into a small but cosy bedroom on the next floor.

The door closes with a click and before you can say anything, Halsin sweeps you up into his arms, pressing you flat against the door and capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like it burns you from the inside.

Halsin’s fresh, earthy scent floods your senses as your tongues intertwine and your hands find their way into his hair, tugging at his braids. You whine when Halsin lets go of your lips, only to gasp as he starts nibbling and placing searing kisses on your jaw while his hands squeeze your ass firmly, bringing your bodies as close together as possible.

You moan at the growing ache between your thighs but plant your small fists against his shoulders anyway, gently pushing him away a bit. Halsin’s eyes, pupils wide and dark with desire, find yours.

“What is it my heart?” he asks, voice hoarse. “Do you want me to stop?” You see no disappointment in his gaze, only worry and your heart swells at how selfless your lover is. You avert your eyes, suddenly embarrassed to tell what troubles you.

“I- I j-just wanted t-to say that … um … well, I- I have never been with someone before”, you mumble eventually, averting your gaze as you blush furiously.

“Silvanus, preserve me”, Halsin groans out before almost dropping you and stumbling backwards, trying to steady himself on the small desk opposite the bed. With wide eyes you regard what is happening before you. Halsin drops to his knees, a deep animalistic growl coming from his lips as his eyes fill with golden light and he transforms into his huge bear form.

You gasp and nearly trip over your feet in an attempt to make room for the bear before you, but the animal fills almost the entire chamber. After finally regaining his composure, Halsin manages to change back into his elf form, with a snarl and a ragged breath coming from his lips.

“Forgive me. I- lost the run of myself.” He shakes his head in disgust at his outbreak, terrified that he has ruined this precious moment with you before it could properly begin, and slowly gets back to his feet. “Sometimes, when blood runs hot enough, it’s difficult to tame the beast. And the thought of you trusting me enough to share your first time with me … well, you saw what happened”, he smiles tentatively, slowly approaching you again with hesitation in his eyes.

“Don’t apologise”, you assure him with a shy smile. “I like it.” If possible, you blush even harder now. “Maybe for another time…?” you add, fidgeting nervously with the front of your dress.

A relieved grin spreads over Halsin’s face. “You like it..?”, he chuckles. “You are full of surprises, little flower.” As he steps forward, he bends down to gently plant a kiss on your cheek, only to proceed to bite at your earlobe which elicits a delicious moan from you.

“I’m glad you think so, but now you’ve made it even harder for me not to outright devour you”, his low voice whispers in your ear. “Nevertheless, I will be gentle. Or at least I’ll try to be.” You swallow hard, arousal sending shivers down your spine.

Halsin’s arms wrap around your waist again as he kisses your jaw, your forehead and nose, until eventually his lips find yours again, his tongue ravaging you like a man starving. His hands, this time directly shoving under your dress, firmly grip your thighs. He ruts against you, growling, his now rock-hard cock pressing against the confinements of his clothing.

His fingers trail higher up, kneading your ass, then stroking the soft skin of your back before slowly wandering even higher. His touch sends jolts through your body and you can feel the heat between your legs, already nearly too much to bear.

His eyes hold an unspoken question and when you nod, Halsin lifts your dress off and brings his mouth down on one of your breasts, the hand that’s not on your back now gently kneading the other, massaging the hardened nipple between his fingers. You mewl at the sensation, impossibly more pressure building between your thighs. Halsin gently bites down at your breast, only to run his tongue over it afterwards to soothe the mark he made. You moan and arch your back, desperately trying to press closer against Halsin’s still overly clothed erection, wanting to feel everything of him.

He growls and his mouth begins to place kisses down your front, between your breasts, on the soft flesh of your belly until he is on his knees before you, his warm breath fanning over you and flooding you with heat.

“More?” he asks, his pupils blown wide with lust, as his thumbs brush the soft skin between your legs. “Please”, you whine, knees almost too weak to stand and your underwear already embarrassingly soaked.

Halsin wastes no time, pressing kisses on the insides of your thighs, his one hand holding you in place and his other slowly -too slowly- sliding your panties down your legs. The sight of you bare and dripping with need before him almost makes him lose control again, makes him want to take you, devour you, fuck you, mark you and then fill you to the brim with his cum but with a groan he wills himself to calm down and be gentle with you. He won’t hurt you. He won’t.

He exhales deeply, lifting one of your legs up and slowly swiping his tongue through your wet folds, which earns him a choked gasp. His nose nudges your clit as his tongue starts stroking, slowly at first, then faster and with more pressure. You can’t help the way each expert swipe of his tongue makes your hips buck into his mouth as countless moans and sighs fall out of your mouth. Halsin growls in response, the vibrations around your sensitive bud making your legs shake. You can barely keep up and the coil in your belly is tightening ever faster with Halsin’s mouth sucking your clit and his tongue inside you.

“You are sweeter than honey, my heart”, he groans as his tongue presses flat against you. “Let me taste you as you come undone on my tongue.” With your mind clouded with lust, all you can do is moan out Halsin’s name and press yourself further against your lover’s mouth.

He understands anyway, now slowly dragging a thick finger through your dripping folds until he stops, teasingly pressing against your entrance. You whine, begging him to fill you, to do anything to release the overwhelming pressure between your thighs. When he finally thrusts into you, you can’t stifle the cry of pleasure that escapes your mouth. With Halsin’s finger now working your cunt open, his mouth continues its ministrations, licking and sucking your clit, soaking your legs with your slick.

With a wicked grin, Halsin inserts a second finger into your quivering hole, pushing inside over and over again, holding you firmly in place as you try to writhe away from the intense pleasure. His fingers coil upwards in response, hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Please Halsin…”, you beg, toes curling and legs shaking, “I’m close- I- Oh!“

Moaning into your cunt, Halsin picks up his pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you as his tongue swipes over your clit again and again, bringing you closer to your end.

One more thrust with his fingers and a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive bud between your legs is all it needs to send you spiralling over the edge. “Ha- Halsin!” you cry out, hips jerking violently and fingers digging into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you with the force of a lightning bolt. He moans at the sensations of your walls contracting around his fingers, the urge to take you and feel you squeeze his cock with your needy cunt almost overwhelming him.

You whine when he pulls his fingers out and stands up, bringing you in for a passionate kiss as you still struggle to regain your breath. Tasting yourself on Halsin’s tongue pulls a small moan from you and an embarrassed heat creeps up your back at the thought of how aroused you already are again.

With a smile, Halsin pulls away. “You are amazing, little flower”, he whispers breathlessly as he picks you up and gently places you on the bed, admiring your flushed body.

If Halsin’s tongue hadn’t just turned your mind to goo, you might have been able to return that compliment, but alas-

“May I go further?” Halsin asks and when you nod he swiftly discards of his clothes, you licking your lips at the sight of the elf naked before you. Your eyes take in his form, from his muscled arms down to the soft curve of his belly and- oh gods. Your eyes widen. You didn’t think he would be that big and the thought of him filling you makes you gulp down a mixture of fear and arousal.

Attentive as always, Halsin notices your insecurity and bends down to press gentle kisses against your ear. “We don’t have to do this, my heart…”, he whispers while he rubs soothing circles into your hips. He looks at you, his expression earnest. You bite your lip, thinking for a moment before answering. “N-no, I want this”, you assure him, your voice still weak but pleading now. The way you look so sweet with your little fangs on your lips makes Halsin feral and he kisses you again, desperate and more passionate this time. He groans into the kiss as he gently spreads your legs for him, lining up his tip with your dripping slit and sliding through your soft folds before stopping just at your entrance. The sensation of his hard length so close to entering you is enough to make your head fall back, eyes squeezed shut. “If it’s getting too much, tell me and I will stop immediately”, he whispers soothingly. “Now relax for me, little flower.”

All thoughts leave your head as Halsin slides in, agonizingly slow. The stretch would be painful if your lover hadn’t prepared you so thoroughly beforehand, but now you only feel pure bliss. Raising your head, you can see that he isn’t even halfway in but gods, you feel so full already that you can’t stifle the choked gasp that escapes your throat.

“You’re doing so well, my heart. Just a little bit more- mngh-!“ Halsin’s growl sends jolts through your spine as he finally bottoms out. You can see just how much effort it takes him to hold back by the way his jaw tenses and his chest is heaving.

“By Silvanus, you’re so tight-!“ A shiver crawls down his back, carrying a wave of soft golden light with it, as Halsin’s eyes light up with his magic for a moment. The thought of how you are able to bring your lover to the precipice of losing control is extremely flattering and you feel yourself clenching around Halsin’s cock, making him grunt in response. Finally somewhat accustoming to his size, you arch your back into the mattress below you. The new angle makes you moan in pleasure as you grip the sheets for support.

“Are you still feeling good, little flower?”, Halsin asks as he slides a hand from your hip under your back to support you. You can only form one thought. “More- please Halsin!” you whine desperately. You don’t have to ask twice, with a low growl he slides out - just to knock the breath out of you with his first, hard thrust. He sets a steady pace, one that leaves you moaning and gasping out his name. Halsin takes your small hands into his, pressing them into the bed beside you to pin you down, pushing into you deep and slow while he places bites and kisses on your throat and chest that will surely leave marks come morning.

Gods, Halsin thought. The sight of your small body sprawled beneath him, split apart by his thick cock while he fucks into you relentlessly is driving him insane. He is growling with every thrust now and each one of them makes you cry out in pleasure. It doesn’t take long until he has you on the precipice of release again, your cunt fluttering around Halsin’s length.

“H- halsin- please! I’m so close!” you can only beg, not sure if you can take much more, your body feeling like it might explode. “Come for me, my heart”, Halsin demands in a gravelly voice before pressing a thumb to your clit, rubbing and massaging until his name leaves your lips in a hoarse cry as your orgasm hits you with full force. Your hips jerk upwards, walls clenching around Halsin as you notice the tears from the overwhelming pleasure streaming down your face. He continues to pound into you, prolonging your release and muttering praises for you under his breath.

Through the fog in your mind you wonder how Halsin still has the energy to keep going, his pace unwavering while you are completely spent, gladly accepting whatever your lover has to give you as long as you’re not required to move.

So, you do not see it coming when Halsin suddenly pulls out of you, the unexpected emptiness making you whine in displeasure, only for him to flip you over and press your chest into the soft bedding while he gently raises your hips.

“I know it’s a lot right now but I need you to cum for me one more time, my heart”, Halsin huffs with a strained voice, pushing inside you once more and grabbing a fistful of your hair to keep you in place. The new position lets him slide even deeper than before and you can’t help the strangled cry that leaves you when Halsin starts pounding into you again, hitting a spot that makes your eyes roll back with blinding pleasure.

“’s too much- please-!” you sob, your poor overstimulated clit still trying to recover from the last orgasm. But Halsin doesn’t relent and you can feel sharp pricks on your hips where his hand grips you, fingers partially wild-shaped into claws and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Seeing just how feral you drive him makes your hole clench around his shaft, the squeeze causing his hips to stutter as a grunt leaves his lips. “Silvanus preserve me”, Halsin pants as he fucks into you even faster, “if you keep squeezing me like that I will not be able to stop myself from claiming you completely, from making you mine and filling you up with my seed.”

You whimper at the image of Halsin pumping his cum into you, fucking it deep into your womb until he is sure that it has taken hold. You cannot pretend you haven’t thought about it before, the idea usually sending an embarrassed heat into your cheeks, but now - gods, now you needed it.

Completely breathless you moan, “Halsin I- ah-! please-! Fill me with your cubs!” These words were the last needed for Halsin to lose himself completely in you, driving himself into you with punishing strokes that cause you to arch yourself into him while moans and whispered curses fall from both your lips. The coil in your stomach is so tight again and when Halsin takes the hand from your hip to softly press on your lower belly you see stars. Your walls clench around Halsin’s cock and you feel him twitch inside you, a sign that he too is close to release. All it takes to send you over the edge is his finger pressed against your clit, your body shaking violently beneath him, toes curling, while waves of ecstasy course through you and you cry out his name.

With a last snap of his hips and a low moan, Halsin comes as well, twitching cock releasing hot spurts of cum inside your still fluttering walls. He continues to pump into you until the aftershocks of your shared orgasm have subsided, before he slowly pulls out. You collapse onto the mattress, exhaustion settling over your overstimulated body.

Halsin gets onto the bed with you, gently gathering you up in his arms and placing your head against his broad chest. “You’ve done so well for me, little flower”, he whispers into your ear, placing soft kisses on your face before he looks your body up and down. One of his hands comes up to stroke a strand of hair away from your damp forehead and to gently lift your chin in order to look you in the eyes. You note worry in his gaze, his brows furrowed in remorse when he plants a feather light kiss on your lips.

“I’ve hurt you”, he states. “I’m so sorry, my heart. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”

You smile up at him and cuddle deeper into his arms before you shake your head. “Don’t apologise. I loved every second of it. There is no birthday present in this world that can ever match this”, you confess with a shy grin. “Although I have to admit I’m a little sore. You sure did your best to make sure I’m unable to walk tomorrow.”

Halsin chuckles. “I can help with that”, he answers with a sly smile, his free hand sliding down your body to stroke through your soft folds, muttering an incantation under his breath. As the familiar glow of the healing spell engulfs his fingers, you feel a rush of warmth where he touches you. A moan escapes your lips before you could stop it, eliciting a mischievous smirk from your lover as you hide your face against his chest in embarrassment.

“I’d be happy to go again, my love, but I think you need some rest first. Besides, we still have an Elderbrain to kill, so we’ll need our strength tomorrow.” You nod at that, the tiredness in your bones leaving you unable to object, even if you had wanted to. But you know he is right, so when Halsin wraps a blanket around you to carry you to the bathroom, you just relax into his chest, the sound of his steady breathing soothing you.

When the bathtub is filled with warm water, you are already half asleep, barely registering that Halsin is gently cleaning you up, rinsing the sweat from your hair and body and rubbing salve over the bite marks and the bruises on your hips once you are dry again.

You can hear the soft snores and deep breathing from your companions when Halsin brings you back into the room you share, all of them already fast asleep. Absentmindedly you wonder how long you and Halsin have been away, but the thought is gone as soon as Halsin places you on your bed.

“Goodnight, my little flower. Sleep well.” He gives you a kiss and turns to leave. You manage to grab his hand before he does, stopping him in his tracks.

“Stay with me tonight?” you mumble sleepily. Halsin smiles, warmth and adoration filling his chest as he carefully climbs next to you, the bedframe creaking slightly with his additional weight, and wraps his arms around your smaller figure. The thought of how your companions might react in the morning seeing you two in one bed briefly crosses your mind, but Halsin’s steady breathing and the soft pulse of his heart against your back soon drown out anything else as you drift to sleep in his warm embrace.

-------------------

Part 2 is here now!

[aurumalatus]

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟏]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 1.5k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, mentions of abuse/alcoholism

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. first meetings and a slight introduction to our characters! i imagine each drabble will have a pretty varying length, so this one is a bit on the shorter side! either way, i hope you enjoy :) interaction is highly appreciated!

↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗘

Kinich meets you in the spring.

The air is warm and balmy that day, with a breeze that brushes by the skin with pleasant coolness. His mother likes to take him to the market with her on days like these, probably for his own good. She tells him he’s a bit unsociable for his age, not that he disagrees��he just doesn’t see any point in changing. He does just fine spending his days at home, exploring the land around his house.

This kind of weather brings everyone outside, which leaves the market bustling—sellers scream their prices and show off their wares, and buyers haggle until their wallets are empty. He walks around with his mother for a bit, one hand gripping her skirt, and she offers him bits of candy and other treats. He rejects them all; really, he doesn’t want for much.

Still, he’s a more independent child, so eventually his mother leaves him to explore the various market stands while she goes around buying the more “boring” items. She probably hopes that he’ll make a friend or two, but he never does—most of the children don’t play in this area. They prefer to play with the Yumkasauri near the outskirts of the tribe.

Either way, he does end up looking around for a bit. Yanta, an elderly woman that sells fruit, gives him some berries to try, and he leaves with his tongue sweetened. He peers at some of the climbing gear, too, with astronomical prices that he would never be able to afford—at least not while his father gambles every Mora away. As the time passes, the crowd starts to get a bit stifling, so Kinich wanders away in search of a quieter place.

He settles for one of the walkways outside of the market, letting his legs dangle over the edge so he can look down at the river. There’s Yumkasauri whelps playing below, bumping each other into the water and screeching with joy. 

Laughter echoes from somewhere nearby—the sound of children, children like him. He tucks his knees to his chest. He has no need for friends, not when there is still so much to learn about the land. He thinks of his mother and the fresh welts on her skin. When he’s older, when he’s more capable, when he knows more, he can help her. Maybe one day they’ll be able to leave this place, or maybe just that man.

A burst of wind slips by—it carries the scent of flora, fuzzy yellow ones that make his eyes water and the purpling blooms that his mother loves. The recognition makes his head turn, just in time to see you run past him, a clump of flowers falling from your grip. You don’t seem to notice, and they fall uselessly to the wooden walkway, inches away from Kinich’s pinky. 

He eyes the flowers curiously—the petals are so bright, yet dainty and thin. Then, he looks toward your rapidly disappearing figure.

And really, he doesn’t know why he cares. He should go find his mom and go home. His father will be there soon anyway, and that’s a whole different beast to contend with; he doesn’t have the time or energy to be concerned with you. 

So he doesn’t really understand himself when he grabs the flowers, pushes himself to his feet, and jogs until your back is within his reach. Another step, and then his fingers wrap around your wrist just as you yelp in surprise. 

The first thought he has when you turn to face him is that you’re quite pretty, and that you look to be his age—he shakes it away just as fast. Instead, he nods toward the bundle of flowers sitting in your arms.

“You dropped some,” he mumbles, opening his palm to you. It reveals a pile of crushed petals and snapped stems, and his face reddens in embarrassment. He hadn’t thought to be so careful in his rush to chase you. When he looks up, your lips are barely parted in surprise, and he awkwardly tugs at his collar.

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

He’s not good at this, he realizes instantly. Years of sticking to his own have left his social skills lacking, and he grasps blindly for something to say. Instead, you’re the first to break the silence—you laugh, a bell-like sound that he finds a bit cute.

“Wow, I must’ve been going pretty fast,” you say, head tilted. “Sorry about that! My momma used to say I run like the wind!”

Kinich tries not to get stuck on the ‘used to’ in your words, but fails—he wonders if you’re alone. It must be difficult, he’s sure, but there are some nights when the stench of alcohol grows too strong and the screams grow too loud where he wonders if it might be preferable. He’s thinking too long, and the silence grows awkward, so he forces himself to speak.

“What are the flowers for?”

It’s your turn to be embarrassed now, an awkward giggle escaping your lips as you shift your weight between your feet. 

“I was thinking about making flower crowns for the other kids in the tribe. They don’t really like playing with me lately, maybe ‘cause I’m alone, so I wanted to do something so we could all be friends again.”

Kinich doesn’t really get it—what would be the point of playing with someone who doesn’t like you? Something about the situation tells him it wouldn’t be the right thing to say, though, so he merely nods. You seem genuine, and while he may be socially inept at times, he’s not mean-spirited. Quietly, however, he notes that the stems of the flowers you have are too long—you’d have trouble making flower crowns with these. 

“Have you ever made crowns before?” he asks, doubtful. 

“Nope,” you answer honestly, “is it that obvious?”

Living at the foot of the mountain meant he had become much more familiar with the nature surrounding the tribe. His mother had been teaching him a few things lately, particularly related to farming and weaving. A flower crown would be simple work, certainly. 

He frowns. He shouldn’t do this, but you’re looking at him so expectantly.

“I could show you how—”

“Kinich!”

His mother appears just then, cheeks reddened and hair sticking wildly to her forehead. Various bags hang from her arms, evidence of her shopping, but she casts them aside in favor of grabbing at his wrist. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I thought you got lost, or even kidnapped! What were you thinking? You’re not usually like this!”

You vaguely think that the two look quite alike; he has her eyes, save for the purpling bruise that sits just underneath her left one. You’ve had similar ones from banging your knees on things, but none in a place so front-facing.

Kinich hangs his head, stepping away from you quickly. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Shame radiates from his form in waves, so potent you can practically feel it yourself. You grab his other wrist out of instinct, and he raises his eyes to you in surprise.

“I’m sorry too, ma��am,” you say. The woman looks shocked, gaze flitting to where your hand joins with his. “I was clumsy and took up too much of his time. It’s my fault if he was late.”

Kinich’s heart flips, and he’s unsure why—maybe because he’s never had anyone defend him like this, maybe because he’s never had anyone defend him at all. His mother looks just as flabbergasted as he does, only returning to her senses when she notices the setting sun. She sighs, addressing her son again.

“Your father will be home soon,” she says, retrieving her bags, and Kinich visibly stiffens. “We should go.”

Gentle, he twists his wrist from your grip, quietly following his mother as she starts to leave. There’s a similar sadness to the hunch of their backs, as if they’re dreading returning home—you wonder if you’re imagining it. Kinich, you remember his mother calling him. You like the sound of it.

“Kinich!” 

He turns at the call of his name, so unfamiliar from your lips. You’re smiling brightly, holding up two of the flowers you’d picked.

“Next time, teach me how to make a flower crown, okay?”

/

His mother doesn’t speak as they make the walk home. He lets the wind fill the silence, whistling through the trees and carrying him with its lulling sound. It’s one of the few pleasures he finds nowadays when he retreats outside, skin purpling with fresh bruises.

They inch the front door open, tentative and wincing, half-expecting his father to burst out in a drunken rage—they’re only met with silence. Relieved, Kinich’s mother sets about putting away the groceries, and Kinich collapses into bed, letting his eyes fall shut as the sun dims outside. He tries to savor the last few minutes he has, distantly praying that his father might come home sober today. 

He thinks of the market, and then he thinks of the flowers. He thinks about the flowers, and then he thinks about them some more—a little longer than is natural for him.

Just as he slips into sleep, Kinich realizes that he never asked for your name.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Fourteen — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is readying herself for the ball. Hot Daddy Fin™️ opens up to her a little and shares some worrying truths (and then some). Azriel and Reader reunite, body and soul.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: Adult content, 18+, NSFW, minors dni.

Tried my best with this part but sorry if it's a bit iffy! This girlie is ill as FUCK. Still hope you enjoy, tho, loves!

“You know, I have to admit, I was dubious at first.”

Mor is knelt at your feet, and you think this might be the closest you ever come to having a goddess on her knees before you. A strange part of you wants her to snap out and sink her teeth into your thigh, leave a bright red mark on the skin — but alas, her attention is fully on the hem of your gown.

“My uncle, love him though I do, is a calculated bastard.” She pushes to her feet, straightening out the fabric. “But I think he actually enjoys your company.”

“He does.” Roza pitches in from her place on the couch. “I know Fin. Y/N has him eating out of the palm of her hand.”

Though she smiles, her tone is laced with clear concern. Not because she cares about Fin, but because she cares about you. Doesn’t want you to forget that this is the High Lord of the Night Court you’re meddling with.

“Males are vapid and predictable, every last one of them.” You shrug your tense shoulders. “Throw them a few pretty smiles and they’ll do anything for you.”

Mor steps back, a low whistle leaving her. “Forget the males. I’ll do anything for you.”

Her eyes rake over your gown. So do Roza’s. And you…you want to crawl out of your skin and hide.

You’ve never owned a beautiful gown like this, never been able to afford one. The couple of dresses you do keep amongst your clothes are plain ones that just about do for special occasions. What hangs off your body now is…a work of art.

Almost feels like sacrilege for the beautiful fabric to touch your marred skin.

It’s sheer, showing off more than you’ve ever before dared to, and yet there’s a modesty, an elegance, to the many whorls and swirls made up entirely of little blue jewels and pearls and beads. It gives the gown a weight that makes it cling to you, and it outlines a body that…that quite frankly, you’d never considered beautiful until this very moment.

A body that commands the garment, and not the other way round. That makes you feel like far more than just another mistreated, unfavoured Illyrian female that will one day be lost to history.

This gown makes you think: I do not need the wings I have spent my life longing for.

It makes you think: There is nothing more beautiful than a good spirit and soul, and I have both.

It makes you think: Never again will anyone — friend or family or foe — make you feel less than worthy. Less than deserving. Less than strong.

You have always had strength. And this dress somehow amplifies it. Will amplify it to a room full of people who will see, through that sheer fabric, your scars, your lack of wings, and they may pity you, or not pity you at all, or may even laugh.

But you will still be beautiful.

Movement has you realising that tears have blurred your eyes. You swipe them away, and Mor is smiling at you, and Roza looks like she’s a little choked up, too.

“You are so godsdamned gorgeous.” Mor says earnestly. “Every last inch of you.”

Indeed, you glance over your shoulder at the mirror behind you, your gaze immediately finding your scars sitting brutal and undeniable beneath the sheer fabric. You don’t hurriedly force your gaze away like you have done your whole life, don’t try to avoid them.

You just…look. Look at what has been a part of you for so long, now.

“…Mor?” Roza says quietly. “Can you…give Y/N and I a moment?”

“Of course.” Mor agrees. “Time for me to find a snack.”

The stunning blonde squeezes your hand as she strolls past, and as she leaves the room, the door is pulled shut behind her.

Roza rises from her seat, making her way over to you. And as she stops before you, her hands move up to cup your face.

“Did you know,” she murmurs, “that I’ve always thought you were one of the prettiest females in all of Windhaven?” A soft scoff leaves you, but before you can glance down, she’s holding your face firmly. “I mean that — even when Azriel brought you to the cottage that very first time, and you were covered in dirt and mud, your hair all knotted, a leaf or two in there — you thanked me for feeding you, and you gave me a smile that was just like…sunshine. Such a rare thing in Windhaven. I remember thinking, this girl deserves to smile like that, always.”

A single tear spills down your cheek, and Roza wipes it away. She definitely looks like she might start bawling, too — a rare thing for her.

“I know you were never given much of a chance to feel worthy.” She whispers. “Your mother abandoning you…your father taking your wings…they were the two people who were supposed to love you more than anyone, and they broke you and left you broken.”

“You put me back together.” A lump in your throat fractures your words. “You and Rhys and Azriel and Cassian. Your love—”

“My little dove, you put yourself back together. We just loved you through it. I just want you to know that…I just want you to remember, the next time you feel worthless, that you are beautiful, and you have always been beautiful. You’re strong, and spirited, and determined. You have a resolve like no other I have ever seen, and you can do anything — which is why I know you will achieve whatever it is you’re planning with Fin.”

Only then does your gaze drop. “I only wish to appeal myself to him enough that he’ll value my opinion — that this Fenlaros business cannot go ahead. But I still feel awful…he’s your mate.”

“Gods, in the loosest definition, Y/N.” Her hands move to yours, then, liking them together. “Believe me when I say that if it weren’t for my children, I’d never see that male again. I think you know that I do not hold him in high regard.”

“I do know. But I respect you and care about you more than anyone in the world. And if you feel even a shred of discomfort about what I’m doing, I’ll stop. I’ll find another way—”

“The only discomfort I feel,” she squeezes your hands gently, “is at the thought of any harm coming to you. But I’ll feel that way through everything you do in life, because I love you. I also feel awe, because you’re brave and brilliant, and you’re doing what’s right. What I will teach this little girl,” she places your hands on her swollen belly, “to do — to stand up against what is wrong, and do so without a lick of shame.”

“I’ll protect her with my life, you know — the babe. I’ll love her unconditionally.”

“And she will love you, my dove, just as I do. So,” she steps back, eyes your dress again. A smile curves her lips. “Do whatever it is you have to do, Y/N, to change Fin’s mind — you have my full support. I only ask three things of you.”

Your expression softens. Anything — you’d do anything for her. “Of course, Roz.”

“First, don’t get caught with your scheming.” She says. “And second — you may feel like murdering Fin. Gods, believe me, I get it. But please do refrain. He’s my children’s father, after all, and Rhys isn’t ready to be High Lord just yet.”

You breathe a laugh, dipping your chin. “No murder. Got it. And the third thing?”

Roza steps up to you, her fingers finding the beautiful, jewelled material that clings to you like a second skin. She smiles.

“Go to that ball,” her fierce eyes meet yours, “and show everybody there that your father didn’t take one bit of beauty away from you.”

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

You pace the length of your room. Back and forth, back and forth. You’re restless tonight.

Day after day is swept behind you like the snow that blankets the mountains. Time is a racing thing. Starfall is fast approaching, and thus, so is the ball. But you still feel as though you can’t get a good read on Fin’s thoughts.

No matter how many dinners you share with him, how many walks through the city streets you take together, the shows you watch in the Rainbow…he does not offer you the candidness with which he spoke through that very first conversation in his study. Any attempts to talk about Tathaln, about Fenlaros, are promptly diverted. He wants to talk about you — wants to know you.

It feels like the opportunity to stop this shit show in its tracks is slipping through your fingers, and you can’t grab hold of it, pull it back.

So instead of sleeping, you think, and you pace, and you—

Gods, you just want to see Azriel.

How much space, you wonder, is enough space? You have respected his needs, have kept to Velaris, given him time to confront his innermost thoughts and feelings. But you don’t know how long he needs, and right now…right now, all you want is to see him. Look into his eyes. Hear that soft, quiet voice telling you that everything will be okay.

You need to know if he’s made a decision about Fenlaros. You’ve tried not to think about it, not to dwell on the possibility that he could choose to run from his feelings over embracing them. But the longer the silence stretches on…the more you find that hole in your heart gaping, threatening to swallow you whole.

You pace more and more, up and down in time to the ticking of the clock. It’s a wonder you haven’t worn a track through the carpet. You don’t know why you’re suddenly so antsy, but perhaps if you could just talk to Az, some of your worries could be allayed—

Before your thoughts can catch up with your body, you’re tearing through the drawers in the desk, scrambling for paper, a pen. Practically throw yourself into the chair. A letter — a letter will do the trick—

But you don’t know what to write.

You stare at the blank parchment like the words will simply appear by your willing. They don’t.

A love letter? No, no, not a love letter. Just a letter to…to remind him that you are still here. That you are reason to stay in Windhaven, and you think you could be reason enough.

Azriel… you picture him as you crawl his name. His honey-golden eyes and his silken hair. The sharp bone structure that could slice through paper, the full lips. The memory of how those lips feel is fading, and you want — need — it back. Your pen pauses, hovers at the parchment, and those lips are all you can think of, the urgency with which you crave them.

Azriel, you write again, I want to see you. I need you, too—

A soft knock lands on the door, and the pen clatters against the desk where you drop it.

The clock has just timed three in the morning — the knock is an unexpected obtrusion in the dead of night. One that makes you anxious.

But a second knock comes, and you shove the parchment and pen back into the drawer, scrambling to your feet. Perhaps it’s Roza — the more the pregnancy progresses, it’s not unusual for her to wake up in the night with need for something. You hurry over and tug it open.

Fin stands on the other side, looking…unkempt. His hair is mussed, like he’s been dragging his fingers through it. The first few buttons on his shirt have been undone, and a glimpse of a fine, chiselled chest peeks out. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He looks as though he hasn’t been to bed.

He drinks in the sight of you in your nightgown, bathed in the room’s glow. He swallows. “Forgive me, I…I saw your light on. Thought you might be having trouble sleeping again.”

You incline your head. “I was.” You admit. “…And you?”

“Too much in my head to even attempt it.”

You’re not sure what to reply with, how to help. Fin watches you closely like…like he needs to. Like gazing at you brings him comfort.

You are treading a very, very dangerous path. But you shift on your feet and ask him, “Would you like to come in?”

A tiny nudge of a smile pulls one side of his mouth up. “I was actually wondering if you’d allow me to take you somewhere.”

Your eyes widen a little. The surprise isn’t for show, and it seems to please him. “Right now?”

“The City of Starlight doesn’t sleep. Ever.”

A fact you’ve learned all too well during your stay here. There’s always some sort of activity, something going on that sends a constant pulsing through the city streets. For some reason, you hadn’t imagined Fin to be a participant in the night life.

“It’s somewhere I go when I can’t sleep.” He explains, as though you’ve spoken your thoughts loud and clear. “I think you’d like it. And from one insomniac to another, I…I would be honoured to share it with you.”

How can you possibly say no to that? For all Fin is mysterious, for all he keeps his cards tightly pressed against his chest, you truly believe that he finds a strange sort of solidarity in this one affliction that burdens you both. You may have wildly different reasons for pacing your room at night — and you’re not sure he’ll ever tell you his — but when the world is too quiet and thoughts are too loud…there’s comfort in knowing that somebody else is staring down those early hours, also.

It almost makes him seem…normal.

And perhaps that’s why you offer him a dazzling smile that isn’t entirely disingenuous. “From one insomniac to another,” you say, “I’d love to come with you.

The way his eyes light up makes you wonder if you’ve played your role, appealed yourself to him, a little too well. “Then I’ll wait here while you get dressed.”

You incline your head. “I’ll just be a moment.”

He waits patiently as you change from your nightgown into warm clothes that will shield you from the freezing night air. With no indication of where you might be going, a sweater and breeches and boots seems like the safest bet. You sweep your hair out of your face and shrug the weariness from your bones. When you emerge from the room, Fin’s gaze traces you like you’ve donned an evening gown and not the thickest layers you could fine.

“I find you so very intriguing.” He comments unexpectedly, and you’re not sure what he means.

You plaster a smile on your face, all the same. “Where are we going, Lord of the Night?”

Heat stokes his hickory eyes, and he looks as though he’s actually trying to tamp down on a broad smile. “It’s a surprise.”

You hold a hand out. He takes it. “Then surprise me.”

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

 “Tilt your head up.” The instruction comes from close behind you. Near enough that a warm breath tickles the back of your neck. You dutifully obey. “Now, open your eyes.”

Your eyelids flutter open slowly, cautiously. What you’re met with has your next breath catching in your throat.

A dome of starlight arcs high above you. The twinkling jewels in the sky feel almost close enough to reach out and touch, and they shine brilliantly through the glass roof, an occasional transient one cartwheeling its way past in pursuit of another place.

You can only stare. Gape. Your feet move forward a couple of steps, but your face remains tilted upwards.

You were in this building only a couple of evenings before, but it had been so packed, then, so filled with music and chatter and laughter and activity, that you hadn’t noticed what sat above your head. You’d been far too enamoured with the performers, their poetic verses and fluid dances, the tragic climax that had brought you to tears.

Now, the largest theatre in Velaris’s rainbow is empty and bathed in darkness, broken only by silvery moonlight. You and Fin are the only two here. And standing on the gargantuan stage, a mass of empty, folded seats staring back at you, you have the perfect view of the night sky that gives a performance all of its own above you.

There are soft footsteps, and Fin is also stepping forward, stopping at your side. “In over nine centuries, I’ve never tired of that sight,”

You shake your head, a little dazed. You’re lost for words. “I can see why.”

“There is so much unexpected, so much chaos and burden, in being High Lord. But no matter what I may face, what choices I make, and what reactions they receive…there will always be the night sky and its stars.”

Only then do you remove your gaze from the domed glass ceiling — to drink him in and wonder how many layers deep his true heart lies. This male who is as cunning and cruel as he is handsome and charming. How many dimensions does he have that you’ve never stopped to consider?

“I know it doesn’t exactly support the imagine of a calculated High Lord who shouldn’t be crossed.” Fin says, staring had at the surface of the stage whilst a wry smile graces his lips. “Sneaking off to an empty theatre in the dead of night when sleep evades me. But I find…peace here.”

You eye the ginormous building around you, dipped in shimmering moonlight and the shadows of twinkling stars. All those empty seats, the vacant orchestra pit, the stage that has trapped so many beautiful voices and words, guided so many dances and echoed so much beautiful music. There’s a haunting loneliness to the desolation. And you can’t help wondering if…if Fin relates to that, somehow.

When you snap out of your thoughts, you find he’s moved again. Now, he sits on the very edge of the stage, legs hanging down and palms bracing him. He stares out at the rows and rows of red velvet seats, not one of them disturbed by a spectator.

You’re moving before you tell yourself to. Sitting at his side and tucking your legs beneath you. You spend a short time in still silence, but the heaviness of the High Lord’s thoughts seems to spread to every corner of the building.

“When you brought me here the other night,” you angle yourself towards him, “it was my first time in a theatre — ever. I never saw a show before.”

A very slight frown pinches Fin’s features.  He seems to consider that. “One of my flaws, Y/N, I have to admit, is that I often forget that there’s a world outside of my privilege. That people lack where I never will.” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. “Roza was right to take Rhysand to Windhaven. He’s grown with a humility that I very much do not have.”

You snort softly. “I spend a lot of time with your son, My Lord. I assure you he’s just as capable of arrogance. I’ve kicked his ass a good few times because of it.”

A quiet laugh rasps from him. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that.” He pauses, and then his elbow is gently nudging you. “I told you, anyway — it’s Fin. I consider us to be friends. Don’t you?”

In some ways, you really do. Ans what a lying, using, devious little friend you are.

Especially as you scoot closer to him. And you’re softening your features and staring openly at him.

You don’t miss the way his gaze falls to your lips.

“I do.” You say, and he lifts his eyes to yours again. “And as your friend, I’d like to know what weighs so heavily on your mind tonight.”

His mile falters. And you don’t want to lose him, to let the moment slip away from you. You quickly grab his hand before he can tense up.

“I want you to talk to me…” You make your voice soft as butter, sweet as honey. “I like talking to you, Fin.”

There’s a beat. A tense one. And then his body is loosening, relaxing, his eyes becoming infinitely warmer.

His hand wraps around yours, the pad of his thumb tracing your nail. “I like talking to you, too.” He admits, and pauses again. “…War is…a great likelihood, Y/N.”

It’s your turn to go still, then, to tense up. Icy cold surprise bolts through you. That…isn’t what you were expecting.

“War?” You breathe, your mind already conjuring images of your friends on a battlefield. “With whom? When?”

“I do not know when. It could be in a year’s time; it could be in a decade. That all depends on how long it takes for humans to rise up and rally against our kind.”

“Humans?”

“There has been more and more pushback, in recent years, from humans. Humans who are enslaved by our kind and are sick of it. More and more of them are beginning to stand up against it, to protest how they’re forced to live. They’re willing to go to war over it. I don’t know when or where, but they will. In years to come, they will.”

“As they should.” You sit up straight. Perhaps it’s the wrong thing to say, but you don’t care. “They should revolt. I think it’s barbarous, the way our kind treat them. Their purpose is not to serve us. They have just as much right to live freely as we do.”

You mean it, mean it with your whole heart. You know what it’s like to be used for somebody’s personal gain, what it’s like to have freedom always lurking just out of reach. And you’ve heard about the treatment of enslaved humans. Most would rather die that live under the cruelty of their fae masters. That the practice hasn’t been outlawed utterly sickens you.

Fin says nothing for a while. His hand continues to hold yours. His eyes drink you down with a muted intensity. Like this is the first time he’s ever really taken you in.

“I agree.” He murmurs, much to your surprise. “And when war comes — and it will, and I’m preparing for it — when war comes, I will fight alongside the humans. To liberate them.”

You look at him, then — a male who has lived for almost a millennia, but doesn’t look a day over forty. Who is so universally feared, who carries a reputation for things you can’t even bear to consider. You will not fool yourself into believing that the darkness hides an inner light, or that the cruelty is a front. He is not soft and he is not kind.

But perhaps he’s not totally bad, either. That he would put himself in the firing line for the liberation of innocent humans…it has to speak somewhat to his character.

It almost makes you regret your scheming, your manipulating.

Before you can muster a response, the High Lord is leaning closer. Your body tenses as his face stops inches away from yours.

“You need not be afraid of me, Y/N.” He whispers. “I find you…magnificent. I like that you don’t filter yourself in front of me, that you’re not afraid to speak your true thoughts and feelings.  You…you are an asset. Worth so much more than you’ve ever been given credit for.”

Your gaze dips, cheeks burning at the compliment. “I don’t know about that—”

“I mean it.” His finger hooks under your chin, soothing the skin there. “Magnificent.” He repeats, and he’s leaning in closer, closer, until his lips are coasting your flushed cheek. The kiss he presses there is cold in contrast, but you have no chance to react as his mouth brushes its way to the shell of your ear and lingers there. “Absolutely brilliant. And do you know what?”

“…What?”

“After the ball is over,” his breath tickles your ear, “I’m going to bring you back here, to this stage. And those stars above our heads will watch as I strip you bare and fuck you hard enough to shake the building.”

It takes every morsel of your resolve not to start at the words. You release a shaky breath — one that makes you seem eager, responsive. It’s convincing enough that you don’t think you’d be out of place up here on this stage.

Thankfully, you don’t have to drag words from your spinning thoughts. Fin lets go, and he pulls back, rising to his feet.

“But until then,” he holds a hand out for you, “there is much to be done. Starting with you and I getting a good night’s sleep.”

You wear a mild smile as you allow him to pull you up. “A girl can dream.”

“And so can a High Lord.”

You don’t say much else to each other as he tugs you close and spirits you back to his palace. You are both pensive, and you are both tired.

But when he bids you goodnight outside your bedroom and strolls off to his own, sleep seems further away than ever. You’re thinking too much at once. Humans. War. Fin. Azriel.

You still desperately want to see Az, talk to him.

You dig back into the drawer, meaning to retrieve the letter you’d started to write.

But your hand merely knocks against wood, and the letter is gone.

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

You’re tempted — to write another letter, or note, or…whatever. You don’t even know what became of the first, unfinished one, whether it made its way to Azriel or not.

But days pass, and you…you begin to lose your nerve a little. Perhaps it’s better to live in ignorance for as long as possible than know, either way, what Azriel is thinking. Choosing. Can’t help feeling that the more time pedals on without a word…the worse the outcome will be.

Distractions help. But tonight, it would seem, there are none. And it’s strange, because everything around you is bathed in luxury, in excellence, but you find yourself missing the stripped back simplicity of Windhaven. The crumbling cottages, the mead hall, the rough-and-tumble way of life. There’s always something happening in that harrowing place, something to keep you occupied. As you stare down an evening in a huge, mostly empty palace, you’re actually struck by your longing for it. Both Roza and Fin are busy. Mor is away. Only the mountains and the distant sounds of the city are your companions tonight.

And once again, your thoughts take you to Azriel.

You think maybe this need for him is getting out of hand. And maybe it’s just the sugar-sweet things that Fin has been speaking into your ear, the knowledge that deep down, there’s only one person you want to make such promises to you—

No. It’s not just that. Not just a pathetic influence of suggestive words. It’s a need.

You need Azriel.

Your closest friend. Your safety blanket. The male who saved you and brought you into the fold of a loving, supportive unit. You stared down awkward adolescence together, faced such trying times by each other’s sides.

And you need him.

Your heart, your body, your skin, is hot and heavy with it. Restless. Like the craving is pulling you apart from the inside.

You need to do something, anything, to occupy yourself; take a late-night stroll, read a book. Anything to stop you from staring at the ceiling and being eaten alive by the fire that scorches your veins.

You’re so desperate to get moving that you don’t bother to grab a jacket — just shove your feet into your shoes. A spring mildness has blanketed the city, anyway. You’ll be fine. You just need to move—

But you yank your bedroom door open, and Azriel is on the other side.

His beauty punches you straight in the gut.

He’s a vision, stood there in casual clothing, a note — your note — clutched in his hand. He takes in the sight of you just as hurriedly.

“What are you doing here,” you breathe.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. His eyes rove you again, and he swallows. “I got your note.” He answers. “I wanted to see you, too, and…the High Lord summoned Rhys, Cass and I here…to warn us to be on our best behaviour at the ball.”

You can’t say anything. Can’t speak. You just gawk like a godsdamned fool.

A strange concoction of a frown and a laugh comes from Az. “I…snuck away after…to come here—”

Before you even know what you’re doing, your hand is bunching in the front of Azriel’s shirt, and you’re dragging him into the room with all your strength. He looks bewildered as you shove the door shut behind him.

“Az, have you lost your mind?” You round on him. “If Fin knew you’d come to my room—”

“He isn’t here.” He cuts you off. “Cass went straight back to Windhaven, and Rhys knew I wanted to see you, so…he’s currently having quality family time with Roza and his father in the city.”

There’s a lot to unpack. But all your mind wants to zero in on is that one little sentence — Rhys knew I wanted to see you.

Pathetic, how your entire stomach flips.

“…You call him Fin?”

It takes a moment for your mind to catch up enough to understand Azriel’s question.

“We’ve been living under the same roof.” You shrug slowly. “I…guess he got tired of me using his title.”

Az stares at you, assessing. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, but you fidget under the intensity of his gaze.

“What is it?” You ask him.

“I’m worried about you. I know he’s taking you to the ball. I don’t want you playing his games.”

You purse your lips. “…That why you snuck here to my room, Az? To give me a warning—”

“I came here because you said you wanted to see me, and I want to see you, too.”

So open — for him. So straightforward that for a beat, you’re not sure how to react.

But then you’re moving, and so is he, and your bodies slam together in a tight, long-awaited embrace. Feeling his arms wrap around you is…everything. Everything you’ve missed and longed for. Everything you will ever long for. Whatever happens…Azriel is the only thing you’ll need, when all is said and done.

And that’s why you’re suddenly crying, clinging to him.

On instinct, Azriel’s arms tighten around you. He moves a hand up to cradle the back of your head, and he whispers, “Y/N…”

“Please don’t leave Windhaven.” The words choke out of you. “Please, Az, just…don’t go to Fenlaros. Please—”

“Y/N. Look at me.”

Tears and all, you do. You remain as close to him as you possibly can as you lift your head to meet his eyes.

You don’t know how you know, but you do — from that one, heavy stare, you can tell that things have changed. That he has changed. He looks like the same, stunning male that you’ve always admired, but something else sits on his face.

Emotion.

Determination.

Fire.

He opens his mouth. Takes a slow, shuddering breath that you feel through every inch of your body. And then he says, with utter clarity, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You almost break all over again. But he keeps talking, keeps sharing.

“I love you. No — I’m in love with you. I love you more than I can put into words. I want you and only you, and I’m not leaving you. The only reason I would ever walk out of that camp is if you were by my side, and we were leaving together.”

You are…weightless. Boneless. Held up only by Azriel’s arms. A tear rolls down your cheek, and you allow it to fall to the carpet.

“My handling of my feelings,” Az stares down at you, “has been one huge fuck up. I loved you long before you offer to let me practice intimacy on you. Experiencing those things with you…the things you made me feel…only brought those feelings to the surface. And instead of facing them as I should have done, I hid behind Kaeda to avoid them. But it was never about Kaeda. It was always you. It will always be you. And I’m scared, Y/N, I’m fucking terrified. But I’m done running. Done hiding.”

Silence sweeps into the room on swift wings, and you are suddenly incapable of thought, and of somehow turning it into words. Without Azriel’s voice to distract you, you’re aware of the tremors that wrack through his body. As though this is the scariest thing in the world to him, and he’s trying to hold strong against it.

It probably is.

He studies you closely. Croaks out, “Please say something.”

And perhaps it’s giving him the wrong impression entirely, but you’re stepping out of his arms and putting space between you. You just…need to gather your thoughts. To remember how to speak.

“I…” You blink. “I handled it badly, too.”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“I made selfish choices. I…I acted out of jealousy because I wanted you, but you and Kaeda were…”

He shakes his head resolutely. “What I told you before was true. I never touched Kaeda like that. Even before I found out about all that Fenlaros shit, I think I knew that I wouldn’t. That I couldn’t.”

A fact that breaks your heart. Your eyes fill with tears again. “But I still did. Cass and I—”

“Cassian was there for you when I should have been, and I had no right — none — to react the way that I did. If anyone did anything wrong that night, it was me. But what you and Cass did…it does not matter. Not one bit.”

You’re pivoting on the spot, turning your back to him, before you can crumble entirely. He really means it. Really does not hate you for the choice you made, even though it hurt him.

“Y/N,” Az’s voice shakes behind you. “Please…look at me.”

Now you’re confronted with the situation, part of you wants to run — to hide.

But Az is being open. Honest. No matter how hard, how terrifying it is for him…he’s here. He’s trying.

And so you’ll try, too. And you think you might be shaking just as much as he is as you turn back to him.

The two of you stare at each other. Feel the situation out with your gazes alone.

Azriel is the one to break the extended silence.

“You said you need me.” He eyes you. He’s visibly trembling all over, and it has nothing to do with the chill in the room. Trembling like he’s trying to hold himself together against the weight of the situation.

“…Yes.” You swallow. “I do, Az…I think I’ve always needed you.”

“So show me.”

You pause. Blink, your eyes blown wide. “What?”

“Show me how you need me.” He steps closer, and though he’s shaking, he outreaches a hand and find yours. “Show me how to give you what you need.”

Your fingers brush his, and you’re forcing a lump down your throat. Drinking him in. He…he’s exquisite. “You mean…”

“I mean,” the gap is closed between your bodies, and his heat is reaching you, “I don’t want to practice. I want it all…everything…with you. I want you to take me. Only you—”

You’re surging forward with so much pent-up need that when your lips collide with Azriel’s, it almost knocks you both to the floor.

But Azriel’s arms are banding around you, and he’s a pillar against you, kissing you back with just as much heat.

You don’t know which of you makes what move. Your hands are all over him, and his are all over you, and he’s walking you backwards and groaning as the kiss deepens.

You find the hem of his tunic, dip your hands under, fingertips skating warm skin that shudders beneath your touch. “Can I take this off?” You murmur, and he swallows your words greedily.

“All of it — take it all.”

And so you do. There is no method to it. You’re a woman starved and crazed as you tear at his clothing, not caring about where it ends up, so long as it’s no longer on him. More and more tan skin is exposed, more muscles, more scars. And when he kicks out of his boots and breeches and his underwear is the only remaining barrier, you’re reaching for him, for the hardness that’s pushing through the dark grey fabric and taunting you.

But Azriel reaches out an arm to gently stop you. His hand brushes your cheek, and his eyes are pure hunger as he says, “Your turn.”

And it hits you just then that up in until this point, Azriel has never seen you naked — in this capacity, anyway. There have been plenty of non-sexual circumstances over the years in which you’ve gotten a glimpse of each other, but not like this. Even when he began practicing on you, you never took your clothes off.

And you’re fucking nervous. Even more so under the press of his gaze. He looks like he may combust as you slowly move your hands to your shirt and tug the front laces loose. You pull the hem out from where it was tucked into your breeches.

The fabric parts enough that it more or less slides off you and pools on the floor. You do not meet the heavy stare that watches you so closely. You may lose your nerve if you do.

But when the last few items of clothing are off and kicked away from you, and you’re left entirely bare, you hear a sharp intake of breath. Curiosity gets the better of you. You lift your gaze and resist the urge to fold your arms over your chest.

Azriel is staring at you like…like nobody ever has before.

Like you are the rare rays of sunlight that break through the grey landscape of Windhaven. Like the world around you was forged from your own two hands.

Like you’re beautiful, and worthy, and unruined.

“…What is it?” You clear your throat, shifting on the spot.

Azriel shakes out of a daze and takes a single step closer to you. “You are…” His throat bobs, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

You almost laugh. Almost. But something stops you.

The sincerity in his tone, his eyes. The realisation that he truly means that.

Your eyes travel from his face, down his sculpted chest and stomach. The firm, toned legs and what sits beneath him. You’ve seen plenty of his body naked. But…not all at once.

You think the air might be punched from your lungs.

He’s hard as a rock — from looking at you. The tip of his cock is already leaking moisture. His wings flare proudly at his back.

“So beautiful.” He cups your jaw, guiding your eyes back up to his.

There’s nothing else you can say, in that moment, than the words that tumble from your lips.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Emotion crosses his face, and both hands are gripping your cheeks. He kisses you deeply; so deeply that it steals your breath.

And then he pulls away, and he’s repeating his earlier words, his forehead pressed to yours. “Show me — show me what you need. No games, just…you and me.”

No games, indeed. You cannot wait any longer.

You rise on the tips of your toes and claim his mouth with yours, and you’re guiding him back, back, until his legs are hitting the bed and he’s gladly falling onto it. He sprawls out, watching as you climb over him. As your hand caresses his stomach and moves down.

And when your fingertips brush the head of his cock, a deep, delicious noises rumbles in his throat.

You mop the moisture up with your palm, using it to slick the length of him and slide your hand up and down. He hisses between his teeth, hips jerking, hands bunching within the covers on your bed.

“No games,” he repeats through gritted teeth. “This is about both of us.”

And you know that, and you’re not patient enough, anyway, for foreplay right now.

It dawns on you that there will plenty of time for that.

He is not leaving Windhaven — not leaving you.

You will have experiences together beyond this one night.

And with that very fact warming your heart and making it set to burst, you place your legs either side of his body and stare down at him. His cock brushes against your centre, and he can feel how wet you already are for him. His eyes travel down.

You watch, and you ask him, quietly, “You’re sure about this?”

His gaze flicks up immediately. “I’ve never been surer about anything in my life.” He reaches out a trembling hand and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “That doesn’t mean I’m not nervous — gods, I really fucking am. So scared. I just…want to do it right. To be good for you.”

The sentiment almost brings tears to your eyes. “You couldn’t do it wrong if you tried, Az. Do you trust me?”

“With my whole heart.” He sits up a little — angles himself closer to you. “And I love you with my whole heart, too.”

And that’s all either of you need, isn’t it? Love and trust. The need that exits between you. Everything that is just…yours and Azriel’s relationship in its entirety.

Your eyes remain locked with his as you gently reach down and position his cock at your entrance. He breathes shakily. Doesn’t look away from you once.

Not as you slide down onto him just a little. You pause at the first feel of your walls stretching to accommodate him. A pleasured frown furrows his brow. A moment passes, two, and then you slide down further.

More and more. Sinking onto him. Pausing. Adjusting. With every inch of his huge length that disappears inside you, you feel like every one of your nerve endings is struck by lightning. Azriel’s head lolls back, and he makes a soft noise.

“You’re okay?” You check, hovering over him.

“You feel—” He chokes on his words. “Fuck.”

It’s the encouragement you need to sink the rest of the way onto him. The last few inches slide into you quick, thanks to the slickness that soaks your folds, and then he’s pushed into the hilt and hitting a spot so deep inside you that you can’t stifle the noise that breaks from your throat.

“Did I hurt you?” Azriel gasps, and you can only shake your head. He seems to study your face for confirmation, before he’s pushing up to kiss you.

And you kiss him back. For a moment, that’s all either of you do.

But when he’s losing himself in your mouth, his tongue dancing around yours, seemingly distracted by your kiss…only then do you lift your hips and sink down onto him again. And then you’re falling into a slow, steady rhythm.

Azriel is gasping again, his mouth moving from yours to press kisses to your jaw, your neck, your collarbones — your breasts. As you rock slowly against him, the walls of your pussy squeezing him, coaxing him, he buries his face into your chest and explores you, lips and tongue paying attention to your nipples, teeth grazing with a gentleness that’s almost heartbreaking.

“So beautiful.” He whispers, and the hands that are sitting on your hips travel up your back — up to the scars that live in the place of your stolen wings. “Gods, Y/N, you’re everything.”

You moan, rocking harder on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You just…want to hold him to you, to feel him against you. It’s like it all comes crashing down on you that he very easily could have left.

But he didn’t. He won’t. He is here and so are you. He is yours and you are his.

“Talk to me,” you breathe, raking your nails down his arms. “Tell me how you feel.”

“So good — feels so good with you wrapped around me.”

“Yeah?” You lean down, brush a kiss to his lips. “You like being inside me?”

“There is — fuck — there is no one, Y/N, that I want to do this with, besides you.” His mouth slants over yours, and he whispers two words — take me — before he’s giving himself to your kiss.

He’s so big, so deep. And the blood in your veins feels like molten lava as the pace picks up, as his trembling begins to subside, and he grows more confident. His groans are loud, and his hands roam over your body before finally landing on your hips. Fingertips dig into your flesh with a dizzying bite, and he’s rocking you, encouraging you to take him. To fuck him.

This is not practice. This is two bolts of lighting striking in the same place. The friction between your bodies is perfect, like nothing else you’ve ever felt. The pleasure may just finish you yet. It’s electric. Addictive. You want to feel like this forever, with him.

And more pleasure floods you as in one swift move, he flips you over — takes you entirely by surprise. You’re landing on your back, and he’s hovering over you. He stills as he stares down at you.

“This is perfect.” He says, dipping down to kiss you again. It makes him move inside you suddenly, and the different angle has you both gasping into each other’s mouths. “Gods.”

“Fuck me, Az.” You moan. “Just like that.”

What starts out slow quickly builds in pace. The roll of Azriel’s hips become thrusts — and the moans, the cries, the words that leave you, all guide them to be deeper, harder. You think you could stay like this forever, with him buried inside of you, wringing pleasure from every corner of your body. It snakes through your veins and zips up your spine, and when his hand travels down and his fingers find your clit, you fucking explode.

You cry out, bucking up from the bed as your orgasm hits you full force. Azriel fucks you through it, and his groans are growing louder, more desperate, as the walls of your cunt clench around him. He breathes out a fractured, desperate noise, leaning down to brush his lips over yours as he fucks into you harder.

“I can’t last much longer.” He chokes around his pleasure, pressing quick, nipping kisses to your mouth. “I can’t—”

“Come for me.” You gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “Come inside me.”

The noise that your words coax from him is downright sinful. He grabs your hips in his hands, slants his mouth over yours. He slams into you again, again, again, and then he’s roaring his pleasure with enough force to shake the bed, and you feel every rope of come that he spills into you.

You’re trembling. Or maybe that’s him. Or both of you. Both slick with sweat, and both shaking, and both unable to hold yourselves up any longer.

Azriel collapses beside you, his body still tangled with yours. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths heating your skin. You sink a trembling hand into the strands of his hair.

“That was—” His voice hitches, “I can’t…can’t put it into words.”

Neither can you. It’s all you can do to nod as you catch your breath.

“Thank you.” A kiss is pressed against your neck. Another. Az’s arm drapes over your chest, and he moves his mouth to yours. “Thank you.”

Still void of words, you settle on kissing him. Deep. Slow. Unhurried. Your hand cups his cheek, and your tongue strokes into his mouth. Lays out a litany of sentiments that you’re currently incapable of verbalising.

It feels like you kiss each other forever. But then you’re pulling back, pressing your foreheads together. And you stare into Azriel’s eyes as you tell him once again, “I love you.”

Emotion floods his eyes, and he holds you as close to him as he possible can, murmuring onto your mouth, “I love you, too. I think I always have.”

You know you always have. You tuck yourself into his side, content to feel his skin against yours. The rest of the world floats away. There is nothing and no one but you and him. Your Azriel.

Your eyes are growing heavy when he brushes his lips against your forehead, and he whispers the words you’ve needed to hear for so, so long.

“Whatever happens, Y/N,” another kiss joins the first, “you and I will face it together.”

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

[sugarbombs-n-stuff]

Companion’s Hobbies

I hope you all enjoy this one and let me know what you want to see from me in the future!

(No gage or longfellow this time around, ill add them later if yall want but i think longfellows boring and i haven’t really played with gage enough for me to say much about him,)

Ada - She actually really digs birdwatching! She can name basically every bird you see and she gets sad whenever she thinks about pigeons.

Cait - Most people would assume something violent and while she does enjoy sparring she’s also really good at wood carving. She picked it up when she was enslaved but she didn’t really do anything with it until traveling with Sole.

Curie - Besides science things she enjoys swimming and gardening with Codsworth. After Sole taught her how to swim she was basically always in water though she does panic a bit when she dives down too deep. Her and Codsworth started gardening when she started getting interested in plants and now they do it for the ritual of it.

Codsworth - Gardening and telling stories. He likes the monotony of gardening as it gives him peace of “mind”. And if there are kids around he’ll tell them stories about Pre-War America, folk tales, and even original stories. Deacon and Cait have dubbed it as Story Time with Codsworth.

Danse - Danse enjoys reading and working out. He likes the sore feeling after working out on whatever equipment Sole set up. Most people might believe that when it comes to reading, he prefers non fiction, he does not. If you get a look at what he’s reading when he’s enjoying himself you might find him reading Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit or any of the Narnia books. He’s a huge fan of fantasy but there are times where he’ll read I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream or Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep.

Deacon - Fiber arts like knitting, weaving, embroidery, anything like that. It has some to do with making disguises but he also grew up doing it with his mom and grandparents. His family are Big-Horner ranchers so they had plenty of wool that his grandma Harper would spin and him and his mom would knit and weave with it. His other grandma Maeve would dye and weave it mostly. After all these years he kept the skills and still loves fiber crafts. He basically always has a knitting project he’s working on. If you’re close with him(or pay enough caps), he’ll make you something.

Nick Valentine - He’s an old man that listens to audio dramas while he mends either his clothes or Ellie’s. Like Deacon, if he’s close with you he’ll mend your things too. It became his hobby accidentally after he kept ripping his clothes and by the time Ellie came to stay with him it had already weaseled its way into Nick’s heart. He’s also fond of checkers and he and Ellie play it a lot.

Piper - She writes. Its her hobby that she made a business out of. It started a little after her dad died and she does it now to grant her self some peace of mind. She’ll write stories for Nat and they’ll act them out together in their living room through laughs.

Preston - Hunting, Fishing, and repairing , though he isn’t as good as Sturges. He grew up on the island near far harbor so its pure muscle memory when he does it now. His brother taught him how to fish when he was younger and his auntie taught them both how to hunt. He can really clear his mind when he’s doing it and its one of the rare times his mind gives him peace instead of problems.

Hancock - Hancock doodles a lot. It was always getting him in trouble when he was in school but now its what he does when he’s first watch when traveling the wasteland. Even on important documents for Goodneighbor you’ll be able to see tiny almost chibi-esk drawings of whatever’s on his mind.

MacCready - Mac also draws! When writing notes to Duncan he’ll draw pictures of whatever creatures he encountered when traveling with the sole survivor’s merry band of misfits. He works hard on every drawing that he makes and it shows cause even though its just a hobby he could make good money off of it.

Strong - Even though he will never admit it, he enjoys hunting with Preston. He also likes reading shakespeare and he’s slowly but surely branching out to other authors. He can read on his own but if him and Sole are close enough, he’ll ask sole to read to him while he’s cutting up what ever fresh kill he got from hunting.

X6-88 - Insect Taxidermy and Gun Cleaning/Modding. If you walk into his house he has butterflies, bloatflies, blood bugs, etc on the walls. He hunches over a desk and pins their wings and bodies and it’s genuinely one of his favorite things to do. Gun care empties his mind as he lets muscle memory take over. While it is calming , he does it more so when he gets an itchy trigger finger. He’ll take it apart, inspect it, clean it, then reassemble it over and over. He’ll tire of it quickly though

[fernkeey]

I have a small suggestion!! Well headcannon I thought you'd like.

Likely since saitama and genos have been living together a while now, even when they moved to the hero association, they still find little ways to keep their old routine, like how saitama probably buys things that genos likes, egs being sardines and hair conditioner brands.

And genos probably still cooks aswell, I find that the fandom poses that he enjoys cooking, I feel it's good for him since before he met saitama he was living on packet noodles and oil.

Yesss!!!!! Not being roommates probably won’t stop Genos making his Saitama-faced bentos and enjoy the company of each other whilst sharing a hotpot, or that’s at least what I think.. if Genos isn’t feeling too down, it can be hard to assume with the differences between webcomic and manga. I think Genos may be used to cooking for two, so Genos would take his second portion to Saitama’s apartment and eventually Saitama will just stay for Genos’s cooking instead of the hassle of trading tupperware / plates and bowls everyday. It would also be easier for Saitama to take advantage of the sales more with Genos still shopping with him, I wouldn’t be surprised if Saitama always gave Genos the task of planning for sales with him being to able to easily track them with just his HUD or just buying each other little gifts because why not giving them more incentive to see each other. I think it would be easy for them to fall back into a routine together if it weren’t for all the people trying to get saitama’s attention and the short amount of time between disasters but Genos assuming he would be moving in with Saitama shows how their lives are now intertwined.

With Genos immediately making ‘peeping holes’ I think it would be accurate for Genos to make a dog door for rover between the two apartments which Saitama and Genos would pass stuff to each other through eventually and talk through the peep hole so eventually they’ll just make a window through the wall, to hang out, but then Saitama might want to come over to Genos’s but can’t be bothered leaving and locking his own apartment just to go next door! So they would just install a door between the rooms, eventually turning them into one big apartment eventually. Alternatively Saitama, Genos or rover will accidentally break the wall between them and they just don’t put the wall back.

Seeing how they react not living together will be really interesting (as much as I’m hoping for them to live together again), specifically I am interested to see how Genos would decorate his own apartment if he does at all or if Saitama will notice how big of a part Genos has in his life. With Genos’s apartment he might not have anything in there since Forte could have potentially took everything from it and he might just end up having a similar arrangement he had whilst he was in the tent whilst stalking researching Saitama with just a sleeping bag and some bare essentials, either being confident he will eventually be living back with Saitama soon or just not feeling like he needs anything else anymore. He could also turn his place into a storage room for all his Saitama merchandise and notebooks or just a room specifically to do his repairs and rest. I am also taking into account that Genos went from bringing a huge backpack to saitamas first apartment to him saying he can fit all his belongings into one corner trying to move into his second.

[kasdan]

𝐸𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝐹𝑢𝑟𝑦 {𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 14}

join the taglist | series masterlist | marvel masterlist | ko-fi

a/n: i would like to apologize that this chapter has taken so long i have been working mainly on fics on my side blog atm and am trying to juggle this story and the other fics i'm writing so please bear with me 🙏🏼 i hope people still enjoy reading the story and that you enjoy the chapter<3

summary: you have to cut off your power usage and a visitor shows up on the bunker's doorstep

pairing: frank castle x reader

warnings: frank is upsetti spaghetti, mention of blood and dead bodies, reader and frank have another moment ‼️(they were cock blocked again smh), mild language, smidge cliffhanger ending (sorry)

word count: 1.2k

“How the hell did they know where we were?” I hear Frank’s booming voice from the bathroom where I’m washing off all the blood. He doesn’t give me much of a choice when we get back to the bunker, immediately ushering me into the bathroom to get cleaned up, even though he looks to be in worse condition than I am.

He tries to inspect my injuries, but I push the first aid kit into his arms so he can tend to his own wounds and not worry about mine. I’ve been washing off in the sink, watching the red-colored water swirl down the drain. Most of the blood on me isn’t mine; it’s from others that I need to scrub off.

I quickly rinse off the blood and change into the clothes Frank left outside the door before leaving the bathroom. It’s easy to find where the two men are in the bunker, given its size, and also where the loud talking continues.

As soon as Frank sees me walk into the room, he’s in front of me, tilting my chin up to inspect the cut. “Frank, I’m fine.” I try to tilt my head away, but his grip is firm, not letting me move as he examines my chin.

He doesn’t let go until he’s sure I’m not badly hurt, then walks back to where David is sitting at his desk. Wrappers and bandages from the first aid kit are scattered over the desk where Frank hastily patched up his injuries.

“The bracelet she has only prevents large amounts of waves from being sent into the air at one time, making it almost impossible to track—emphasis on almost. They’re apparently very persistent,” David explains, sighing.

“So my best chance is to just not use them?” I ask, uncertain about the situation since many of the men who came are either still bleeding out at the house or dead.

“Right now, I think it’s best if they’re only used when absolutely necessary.” I understand his point, but it makes me uneasy not being able to fully control them or work on them. How can I ensure they’ll work when I really need them?

“You can still practice with them, just not so much at one time,” David says, as if reading my thoughts. I nod slowly, slightly disappointed that I won’t have any more full-on training sessions with Frank anytime soon.

“C’mere,” Frank says, grabbing a couple of papers from the desk and motioning for me to follow him to the back of the bunker.

“Yeah, just leave me with the mess,” David calls out as Frank walks away, not receiving a response.

Frank sits down on the ground, knowing I’m more comfortable there than on the benches or chairs. I’ve told him many times that he doesn’t have to sit on the ground with me if he’d prefer the chairs, but he brushes me off every time.

He places the papers in front of him as I sit down next to him, wondering what this is about. He gives me a reassuring smile and slides the paper closer so I can see it.

There’s a list of words on it, each color-coded. “This is the list of the powers that were put into the system. They were all a different color for some reason, so we wrote them down as listed,” Frank explains. I reach out to pick up the sheet and survey it.

I skim over the list, focusing more on the colors than trying to make sense of it. However, I can't help but notice the word “time” a couple of times. My eyebrows crease as I attempt to figure out what it means. “What is it?” Frank gently asks from next to me.

I show him the two items I’m looking at. “What do these mean?” He leans in to see where I’m pointing.

“Freeze time and reverse time,” he reads from the paper. “Freezin' time is makin' everythin' around you stop and freeze in place. Reversin' it is going back a few seconds or minutes to an earlier event.” I recall the time in the house when Frank repeated the same thing but didn’t seem to realize it. Was I the reason for that? I glance back at the paper. ‘Freeze time’ has an icy blue color next to it, while ‘reverse time’ has a lighter green color.

“You don’t know what the colors mean?” I look up from the paper, surprised to find that we’ve grown closer, our knees touching as I look at him. He meets my gaze and visibly swallows before clearing his throat.

“Uh, no. They were never really explained in the files…” His voice trails off, and I look at him in confusion.

“Are you okay?” I ask, noticing his distraction.“Frank?” I say again when he doesn't say anything, and he lifts his head to look at me.

“I shouldn’t…” he mutters, sounding conflicted.

“Shouldn’t what?” I respond, but there’s no time to think before he tilts my chin up and presses his lips to mine.

It catches me off guard, and a small gasp escapes me as he moves his lips gently against mine. I feel sparks ignite within me once again, and I slowly start to move my mouth along with his.

A groan escapes his lips when he feels me respond, and he grips my hips, pulling me closer. I find myself resting my hands on his shoulders to steady myself as our mouths continue to move together.

My body tingles as sparks shoot through my arms and into my hands, causing Frank to pull back and look at me. I’m breathing heavily and notice my hands glowing dark red again, and I don’t understand what triggered it.

Instead of pulling fully away, Frank ignores the shocks and leans in to press his lips back against mine. I try to pull my hands away to stop hurting him, but his strong hold keeps me in place.

A noise escapes me as he presses his mouth more firmly against mine, forcing me to push back with equal force. He pulls me into his lap, our bodies pressed close, and I can’t help but wrap my arms around his neck and melt into him.

My body feels like it’s in overdrive, new emotions swirling inside me, making me want to stay close forever. However, the universe has other plans when a knock is heard from the front bunker door.

We break apart, panting for air. I stare at him, confused about what’s happening. His grip loosens, allowing me to slide off his lap.

David’s urgent voice comes from the other side of the bunker, calling us over. I glance at Frank one last time before picking myself up and slowly making my way to David. Frank follows, but I catch him glancing down at the paper left on the ground before he does.

“Do either of you know who this is?” David points to the screen of the camera outside the door. A woman stands there in a long dark coat. There’s something familiar about her, but I can’t quite place it.

buy me a coffee ♡

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

taglist:

@sleeperthelazy @lunaticgurly @casa-boiardi @mattmurdocksstarlight @cherry-berry-ollie @givemylovetoall @maddiewinchester

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

join the story taglist

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Shinsuke Kita General Profile

Yandere! Shinsuke Kita x fem! reader

Tw: stalking, kidnapping, mild infantilization, one very brief mention of Shinsuke commenting on what you eat, spanking, mentions of non-con, mentions of assault, Stockholm Syndrome, forced motherhood, mentions of breeding, misogyny/traditional gender roles, Shinsuke wants to have a family with you and it's kind of sweet but it's mostly disturbing, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy! 

Because I've been kind of neglecting other fandoms besides hxh, have this peace offering <3

WC: 12K

DARLING PROFILE:

Responsible

Shinsuke is quite picky with those that he develops romantic attraction towards.

He has standards that are quite specific, and he’s unwilling to compromise on these requirements, even if his darling is perfect for him in every other possible way. He holds himself to a high standard, so it’s only fair to hold his beloved – an extension of him – to similar standards, right?

And one of these requirements is that his darling must have some level of responsibility, their personal sense of commitment and drive able to mirror his at least partially.

He’s not interested in dating a child at heart – he wants a partner, someone he can trust and love, and while he limits any hope of his darling ever having autonomy or free will, he likes to idea of them being able to take care of themselves.

He’ll always be there to protect and love them of course, and he doesn’t allow them to be in any position where they’d need to take care of themselves, but it’s still attractive to him.

He likes to know that they know right from wrong and know the consequences of their actions, particularly because he feels this is a necessity for a good mother. (And he’s sure his darling will be a good mother – they’re caring, warm, and they have the perfect body to carry his children, with a stomach he can’t wait to see grow and breasts he can’t wait to see fill and leak.)

And really, that’s the main reason behind this requirement of his - Shinsuke expects his beloved to mother a good number of his children; he’s hoping for a family of at least six, and he’s more than willing to give his darling more if they wanted.

It’s a massive relief for him to know that they’ll be able to care for their children, and themselves, in the event of an emergency. (He’ll never not be there, of course, but if – heaven forbid – something were to happen and he couldn’t protect those he loves most? Well, it would destroy him, but at least he’d know his darling is capable enough to keep them alive until Shinsuke can return to them.)

And so, while Shinsuke will always, always treat them with the level of care and patronizing patience that will make his darling feel inadequate and incapable, just know that he doesn’t feel that way – he loves his darling, and he thinks that their responsibility is extremely attractive.

It’s part of what makes them catch his eye initially, and Shinsuke is nothing is not a fan of consistency.

Sweet

Perhaps it’s a product of having grown up around the community that he did, but regardless, Shinsuke finds someone appealing about those who are genuinely kind and sweet.

It’s something he’s always liked, and although he isn’t exactly nice, Shinsuke likes to think of himself as a good person, as having good intentions and always giving others the benefit of the doubt.

And this mentality is extended towards his darling – he likes the idea of someone who is nice and friendly to those around them, just genuinely happy and kind, and who isn’t afraid to show off that kindness to the people they surround themselves with.

His favorite sound is his darling’s voice, and when they’re giving compliments or pairing a smile with some comment of how lovely the weather is or thanking Shinsuke for doing them a favor, not only is his heart racing – and his cock hardening – but his obsession is only solidifying, growing deeper and stronger, his desperation to have his darling all to himself becoming harder and harder to ignore.

He doesn’t necessarily believe in traditional gender roles, but he does like the idea of his darling being soft and sweet, someone warm and welcoming, and a sweeter darling would be the ultimate for him.

And he’ll return any kind words thrown his way with vigor – his darling compliments him on how nice his hair looks today? Immediately he’s smiling at them, telling them that they’re beautiful, my love, your hair looks lovely today as well.

His darling being sweet only plays into the fantasy he’s created of them – that they’re perfect but weak, someone that can be easily manipulated and exploited, and therefore it’s his job to step in and keep that from happening.

It’s his job to keep them safe and happy and protected, yes?

Smart

Shinsuke doesn’t handle stupidity well.

He’s blunt and it shows, because while he’s a patient man, he has very little tolerance for foolishness, or for purposefully stupid choices being made.

He holds nothing against those who aren’t as academically gifted as himself and others, but his preference leans more towards those who work hard, those who happen to have a certain area that comes very naturally to them.

To him, it shows integrity and a strong threshold for understanding; two things that make his partner seem absolutely irresistible, and if he could, he’d have conversations lasting for hours as his darling simply speaks to him, telling him all about this or that and absolutely gushing to him about whatever their particular knowledge and interests are.

He just likes to hear his darling’s ideas, finding each one important and worthy of giving his full attention, listening intently and asking questions, his eyes stuck staring at their face because god, they’re so beautiful when they’re speaking and visibly enjoying what they’re saying.

He wants to know that he can hold a conversation with his darling, that he doesn’t have to dumb himself down in order for them to understand him (this of course, does not stop him – he’s still patronizing to his darling regardless of their IQ, acting as if they’re incompetent and unable to perform even simple tasks, but still).

Shinsuke doesn’t need a genius of a darling, but someone who can hold their own immediately peaks his attention, if only because the idea of a smart, caring, kind woman is his ideal – perfect to keep by his side forever.

Push Over  

While all the other traits Shinsuke finds ideal in a darling are clear to him and things he takes no shame in, this one is something he isn’t really willing to fully admit to himself.

He’s got a strong, steady personality himself, and he’s headfast in his beliefs and values – he’s very difficult to sway, really, when the topic at hand directly contradicts something he considers as an immovable fact.

But while Shinsuke doesn’t let himself be swayed by others, having a darling that does would probably be likely – perhaps not by choice, but still something he’d find himself drawn to anyway.

He doesn’t necessarily understand why his partner allows others to treat them that way, to let others walk all over them and totally disregard what they want, but it angers him. It makes him livid.

It makes him so upset that while he’s mildly angry at his own darling for allowing this to happen, he makes it his sworn duty to put a stop to this, to stop allowing others to walk all over his beloved and taking advantage of them and using them.

 Of course, it’s a bit hypocritical of him, considering the fact that once his obsession with his darling forms, he’ll be telling them what they can and can’t do and deciding everything for them. He’s the one in the driver’s seat when it comes to his beloved, making all the decisions from what they’ll be eating for breakfast to which panties they’ll be wearing today, but that’s not the point.

So yes, he’ll teach his darling how to stand up for themselves, how to put their own health and self above the needs of others, before he’ll absolutely crush any opportunity to let them practice their new skills - after all, Shinsuke’s word is final, no matter how hard they argue or beg. 

It’s just attractive, subconsciously, to have someone so weak willed and meallable – his darling needs someone like him, don’t they? They need someone to guide them, to make their decisions, to be a stabilizing force in their life that tells them exactly what they should do and how they should do it – and really, isn’t that love?

Isn’t that what a partnership, a relationship, is all about? Control, dominance, submission?

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Lucid

Shinsuke has impeccable self-control, and while this is still somewhat true when it comes to you, he lets himself be just a tad bit more lenient, giving himself just a bit more wiggle room where you’re concerned because denying himself of every little thing he wants from you would be torture. He’s aware that there’s something wrong with the way he feels for you. It’s not normal to be so dependent on another person, to be so simply aware of them.

He’s had crushes in the past, sure, but he’s never idly wondered what they’re doing at any particular moment, what they’re thinking, what they’re wearing, if they’re talking to another man. He’s not normally worrying if they’ve fallen or injured themselves because he knows they tend to be clumsy, especially if they’re looking at their phone.

He’s never felt this head over heels in love with someone before, and in many ways it scares Shinsuke. There’s something alarming about how he feels for you, and it terrifies him that he’s just always thinking of you, his every thought revolving around you you you, even if you aren’t in the room or he hasn’t seen your for days.

It’s painfully obvious to him; he’s always been good at digesting and analyzing his emotions, and everything he feels towards you is… questionable at best.

And yet, because Shinsuke has such good self control and self restraint, he’s actually able to hold himself back quite a bit in regards to many of the urges and desires he feels towards you. His heart demands him to run to you at any given moment, to simply wrap his arms around you no matter what you’re doing and trap you in a hug you’re much too weak to get out of.

But he stops himself, taking a deep breath and rationalizing that no, it’s not a good idea to sprint to your apartment and break in to simply hug you.

His heart is yearning for him to kiss you, to suck hickies into your neck until you’re a trembling mess under him, your face embarrassed and bashful as you stare at him, your chest heaving with your labored breaths.

He wants to, but he tells himself he can’t – not yet, not until you’ve kissed each other before, not until he’s given you sweet, sensual kisses that make your heart flutter – ones that are less imbued with passion and sexual tension, because it would be bad to scare you away.

(No matter how desperately he wants to rip off that pretty sundress of yours and bend you over and fuck you until you’re crying and screaming his name over and over -)

He wants nothing more than to keep you by his side at all times, to trail your every move and follow you like your shadow, just so he can protect you – but he decides against it, as it’s too likely you’ll notice and feel unsettled by the fact that he’s essentially stalking you. Shinsuke isn’t completely blinded by his love for you; it’s strong, incredibly difficult to ignore, but there’s still a sense of a moral compass that he feels despite his infatuation.

He doesn’t want to scare you, and he doesn’t want you to think of him in an ill light because of his rather bold desires – you’d think he’s crazy if he did even half of the things that he thinks about when he lays in bed at night, staring at his ceiling and wishing you were beside him, wrapped up in his arms and snuggled into his bare chest. Shinsuke knows this, and so he holds himself back from all of the creepy, disturbing things he knows he’s thinking – he won’t steal your clothing like he wants to, nor will he set up a security camera outside your bedroom door that he’ll use for much more than security surveillance purposes. He won’t; no, instead he channels all of the pent up jitters and anger from restraining himself into much more normal things.

You’ll discover very quickly with Shinsuke that while it’s not necessarily a bad thing, he’s much, much quicker to progress your relationship with him forward. He’s not waiting between steps – he’s pushing the pace at which the two of you move scarily fast, to the point that every major milestone that takes other couples years to achieve is done within the span of six months.

From the second you agree to go out to dinner with him, it will take less than a month for him to say he loves you. It’s romantic, at least; a candlelight dinner he made himself, his smoldering eyes staring at you so intensely you feel your whole soul is bared to him, his hands squeezing yours as he tells you matter of factly that he’s in love with you, and I have been for quite some time. I love you, my angel.

He’s proposing the two of you move in together much before you’re ready – you’ve only been dating for about three months. Though, with how often he invites you over to his place, you’re practically living in his house already, the rice fields surrounding it familiar and calming.

He’s quick to package up your belongings himself, labeling the cardboard boxes with an uncharacteristically bright smile across his face as he imagines exactly where each item of yours can go, his eyes scanning and memorizing every little thing he packs away because oh, he didn’t know you had this many bras – and this pink one he’s never seen before. Perhaps you were waiting to surprise him with it?

He’ll relent and let you have your own room in his house at first, though expect that to only last for a week or so – soon, you’ll be sleeping in the same bed every night, his hands firmly on your hips as he spoons you, his soft breath brushing the back of your neck with every exhale.

He’s dropping to one knee much too soon, that important question slipping from his lips as the pretty, silver ring is bared to your eyes – it’s got his initials on it, and he’s quick to tell you his own matching ring has yours.

(He’s already wearing his own ring, and you notice with a start that he has been for quite some time – maybe not on the right finger, but still.)

He’s giving a speech that’s surprisingly sentimental for him, tears even welling up in his eyes as he tells you how much you mean to him, how he couldn’t imagine his life without you, how he’d be a shell of the man he is now without you – all about five months after that first initial date.

And of course, Shinsuke doesn’t even feel like he needs to have the conversation about a family with you – it’s assumed you’ll bear his children, expected even.

He’s sure you’ll be a wonderful mother, and he’s always wanted to be a father, so don’t be too surprised when only a year after you agreed to go out with him he’s whisepering in your ear and caressing your growing stomach, murmuring about how he’s so lucky to have such a wonderful wife, and what I’m sure will be a wonderful baby boy.

So really, while Shinsuke isn’t especially impulsive in most ways regarding you (despite desperately, desperately wanting to be), all of that repressed drive to keep you his and only his is channeled in that your semblance of a normal relationship will be strained by his need for more. He needs to have a domestic life with you, to wake up to the smell of pancakes and bacon as you serve him breakfast in bed, kissing his cheek while you sit down beside him and watch him eat.

He needs to see you humming and doing the laundry in the basement, your fingers working deftly over the fabric as he hugs you from behind, smelling your hair deeply and sighing into your neck. He needs to stand beside you in the bathroom, looking at you in the mirror as he brushes his teeth, maybe even as he brushes your teeth.

So while Shinsuke is mostly a respectful yandere, he’s by no means simply rolling over to you – you will be his partner, wife, companion, and the sooner you accept that, the easier things will be for both yourself and Shinsuke.

After all, it’s so terrible when you fight, and aren’t things better when he’s caring for you, loving you and providing for you like a good husband should?

Protective

Shinsuke’s always naturally found himself falling into the role of a protector. He enjoys watching over others, making sure they’re staying healthy and safe, and this particular personality trait is present in every single relationship he has, whether it’s with family or friends.  

He’s stern, but his heart is pure gold when it comes to those he loves. Because of this, he’s developed a bit of a paranoia for those close to him getting hurt, just because he doesn’t like the idea of anyone he loves being injured or in pain.

And where you’re concerned is no different - in fact, it’s only worse, much more intense, if only because in Shinsuke’s mind you’re so fucking delicate, so fragile and doll-like with your beauty and personality that it makes him honestly fear for the worst whenever you’re alone and without his constant protection.

He’s with you, always – it’s harder to do this before he’s kidnapped you, but he’ll find a way to always just be idly near you, whether that’s inviting you over for the day, or ‘happening’ to run into you in town.  

It gets to the point where he won’t let you do anything on your own, no matter how trivial or important the task may be.

He’s by your side when you’re typing on the computer, making sure your hand doesn’t cramp up, and at the slightest grimace or flex of your fingers, he’s immediately taking your hand in his, gently massaging your fingers and staring into your eyes, telling you that you should be more careful, that Carpal Tunnel Syndrome is no joke.

He’s with you when you’re running errands - he has to make sure that no creeps follow you or take advantage of you, and it’s only right that he, as your future husband, takes on that responsibility of keeping you safe, right?

(Besides, he’ll push the cart for you, or reach to the highest shelf for you – even if you’re taller than him – or gently but firmly tell you that you don’t really need two sleeves of cookies, do you?)

He’s not letting you drive anymore, keeping you firmly away from your car and instead in his, the seatbelt suffocatingly tight around your body and his hand on your thigh so that you don’t feel scared when he’s on the freeway.

He’s only letting you wear clothing that covers your body to his standards – not because he thinks you should be covering up (he thinks your body is perfect, almost too perfect, if the way his cock springs to life at just one flash of it is anything to go by), but simply because he doesn’t want anyone to be staring at you or making crude comments.

And once you’re in the sanctity of his home, his overprotectiveness only increases. If you felt like he was controlling, suffocating in his endless stream of ‘let me do that for you - it looks sharp, and you and I both know how dangerous book corners can be’ before, it’s nothing compared to the way he acts once you’re forced to be with him at all times, stuck in the unmatched safety of his abode that he’s so graciously decided to share with you.

He’s with you while you’re sleeping, staring down at your unconscious figure while he caresses your cheeks and presses soft kisses to your forehead, to make sure you don’t get cold or choke in the middle of the night.

He’s there while you’re showering, standing outside the glass door with his eyes trained on your figure, the tent in his trousers not so subtle, to make sure that you don’t slip and fall or get shampoo into your eyes.

 Shinsuke has no shame in keeping an eye on you 24/7, and if you try to bring up how uncomfortable it makes you, how weird you think it is that he’s always there, he’ll just pat your head with a soft smile and say that it’s his job. He’s your protector, your provider, and he’ll always take care of you, whether you want it or not.

Besides, isn’t it romantic that he cares so much? His grandmother has always told him that women swoon at men who are masculine, but not terribly so – just enough to show that they’re capable of providing for their partner, but are still sweet and in touch with their emotions.

And surely, his grandmother must be right; after all, he managed to become friends with you, and Shinsuke’s relatively certain that you possess romantic feelings for him as well, if the way you get shy and flustered when he compliments you in that way too blunt tone of his means anything.

He likes the idea that he can be your protector, the one that makes sure you stay safe, healthy, and happy, and frankly Shinsuke is adopting this role even way before his feelings for you form. He likes the way you look at him with a soft smile after he helps you carry something heavy, your pretty eyes sparkling at him while you murmur a small thank you, Shin.

He likes the way you say his name when you’re on the phone with him, your voice sounding like chimes through the receiver as he sighs and closes his eyes, stopping whatever task he was in the middle of when the ringer went off. He’ll focus on the way your tone sounds, if you seem happy or sad, if you sound out of breath or like you’re struggling, and if he gets even the slightest hint that you may be doing something strenuous or challenging (or, heaven forbid, dangerous), Shinsuke is practically sprinting out the door, wanting to get to you as fast as possible as images of you falling, hurting yourself, breaking a bone, anything and everything flash through his mind.

He’ll show up at your door with his hair mussed up, his chest heaving, his brown eyes wide and staring at you impossibly, raking over every inch of you while fervent questions slip past his lips of are you alright? What have you been doing the last few minutes? Why did you not ask me to do it for you?

wants you safe and healthy and pristine, and that’s what he tells you when he’s tucking you into bed, pulling the sheet high around your shoulders (made of the softest cotton designed for newborn babies, of course, as he knows just how sensitive your perfect, warm skin is) while he pulls you tightly against his bare chest, not leaving any room for air between you as he leans down to deeply inhale the scent of your hair.

He’s constantly telling you how much you need him, how he’s the only one who can assure your safety and really truly care for you how you deserve. And in Shinsuke’s mind, you deserve the world - you’re his precious, perfect little darling, and he’s your strong, capable husband - it’s his duty to protect you, to shield you from the terrors of the world and to take care of you.

And really, when you see the muscles rippling along his back, the definition of his biceps as a result of years of volleyball and work on the farm, there isn’t a whole lot you can do to go against him. His protectiveness really does come from a good place – he wants to care for you and make sure you never have to lift a finger, and isn’t it romantic in its own way?

Isn’t it sweet how he’s always wanting to take care of you, how he’s going out of his way to check in on you (frequent, frequent calls and text messages asking you how you’re feeling, randomly showing up to your apartment with takeout in hand and a soft smile on his face, asking without really waiting for an answer whether you’d like to share dinner together)?

Shinsuke thinks this is both the quickest way to your heart, and the quickest way to placate the constant anxiety in his own heart about whether you’re okay, if you’re taking care of yourself. He just wants to be your lover and protector, so won’t you just let him?

Sure, you may feel incapable, his blunt tone and words making you feel useless, but he doesn’t mean it like that – can’t you tell? He sure hopes so, but at the end of the day it hardly matters; he’s sure you’ll fall in love with him eventually, because every woman wants a strong, caring, protective husband.

He’s sure of it.

Obsessive

Routine is an integral part of Shinsuke’s daily life, and despite the massive change of having you – his lover, partner, obsession, object of fascination – this still stands true.

He’s still a man of consistency, and while his rigid scheduling changes in the face of having you in his life, he’s still abiding by the principle of repetition. He’s extremely consistent in the way that he interacts with you; he’s always polite and chivalrous, being nothing short of a gentleman.

Consistent compliments will be coming your way no matter how often you dissuade them or ask Shinsuke to not embaress you so much. He’s telling you that your eyes are gorgeous, I always get so lost in them as he stares at you from across the table, his own food untouched in his bout of simply observing you.

He’s brushing his fingers over a strand of your hair and softly smiling at you, those cold gray eyes warming slightly as he murmurs out your hair is lovely, never cut it.

He’s rigid with the way he interacts with you, but this all lies from the desire to get to know you better, to learn every detail he possibly can. It’s like a puzzle to him; the more he learns, the more he’s able to treat you like you deserve, the greater his resivoir of knowledge about you grows.

 He needs to know everything he possibly can in order to make you happy, to be the best possible partner, and is that really such a crime? Is it such a bad thing that he wants to make you happy, to make sure you never worry again, that your pretty head can stay happy, carefree, so very in love?  

His obsessiveness comes from a good place, truly, which is why he wants to know everything possible. What position do you fall asleep in, and do you move around in your sleep?

 (This knowledge will help him practice cuddling his own pillow, getting familiar with falling asleep in the position that would perfectly aid the way you naturally fall asleep, so that once you’re sharing the same bed every night the both of you can be as comfortable as possible, and therefore receive the best sleep possible.)

What are your dreams for the future?

(It brings a small blush to his pale cheeks to imagine you wanting him in your ideal future, wishing you’d say something along the lines of wanting a modest family and a quiet, calm life, one full of love and quiet stability. It makes Shinsuke excited, because that’s exactly what he can give you – that, and so much more – though, he’ll have too work on that ‘modest family’ a bit; you’ll be having at least four of his children.)

 How heavy and how long are your periods?

(He’s stocking up on appropriate supplies, reading up on strategies to help alleviate cramps, the best foods to eat while menstruating, what kind of music and programming is best to relax you, what kind of sweets to indulge you with when you’re particularly clingy and depenent on him – something he’s much too stoic to admit he’s very much looking forward to.)

 What keeps you up at night?

(Learning your greatest fears will give him not only a better understanding of you, but also set Shinsuke up for success in calming you down when you wake from nightmares, giving you comforting, lulling words and letting you cry into his chest while he runs his hands along your back, whispering praises and soft nothings as you try to calm down, his own heart hammering in his chest because god, he can feel every inch of you pressed against him like this.)

Shinsuke can and will learn it all, and he’ll remember every last detail to the tee, ingraining it into his brain because all he can think about half the time is you, and he needs material to work with.

He’ll pull random facts out of his back pocket, especially early into his obsession with you; things like your favorite foods and colors, little stories you’ve told him in passing that you don’t expect anyone to remember, small things that make you blink and stare at him in slight shock, flattered because why did he remember something so small and trivial?

It’ll shock you, but it’ll make you feel good, because you’ve never had someone pay as close attention to you as he does, and isn’t it flattering to know that Shinsuke Kita, a man with muscle, smarts, and integrity, cares about little old you?

Even if you aren’t initially romantically interested in him, this particular habit will have that slowly changing, until you reach the point that you’re willing to give him a chance, because it’s the least you could do, right?

But while this habit starts off sweet and romantic, as his relationship and infatuation with you progress, he’ll slowly start mentioning more and more of the things you’ve told him – except, you’re pretty sure you’ve never told him where you keep that extra stash of cash in your bedroom for emergencies.

You don’t think you’ve ever mentioned to him about the order with which you get dressed, or how long it normally takes you. He’ll start casually mentioning things you know you haven’t shared with him, and you’ll slowly begin questioning how he knows everything.

You’ll more likely than be wondering how the hell he knows how many pillows you sleep with at night, but while this may initially concern you, there’s something so calming about Shinsuke, something that’ll just have you shaking it off as something you must have mentioned off handedly, and that Shinsuke just has a really good memory.

And for a while, it works - you start forgetting about how strange it is that the gray haired boy knows so much about you; but once you wake up in his basement, laying atop a soft mattress with nice, wrinkle free sheets waiting underneath your body (that’s been changed into a clean, white pair of pajamas you’re sure aren’t your own) and Shinsuke himself holding you against his chest, telling you to rest and take it easy because the drug is still in your system, you can’t keep brushing it off.

Because once he’s mentioning facts you’ve never disclosed to anyone (like the number of various moles on your body or that you always think of a certain fantasy when you masturbate), you’ll have to recognize the fact that you should’ve known.

You should’ve seen the signs, not laughed off his more questionable behavior, because now that he’s got you stuck with him forever, there’s absolutely nothing you can do.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Because of Shinsuke’s views on life and how he perceives his belongings and others, jealousy is something he is not accustomed to.

Before you, he didn’t really understand the concept - you should be grateful for what you have, not envious of those around you for their own belongings. Frankly, he thought extreme jealousy was a sign of a lesser man – ungrateful, selfish, and overall an unpleasant person.

He strived to never feel jealous in any capacity, and for the most part he managed - however, once you enter the picture, his maturity and principled thoughts of gratitude fly out the window.

There’s this ugly feeling that grows in his chest when he thinks about you interacting with another man who intends to court you. It’s suffocating, the way the feeling spreads from his stomach up into his throat, making his mouth feel puffy and swollen, his fingers flexing and clenching, his every muscle tightening as he clenches his jaw so hard his teeth hurt. It’s overwhelming, the way his head begins to ache, his toes feeling numb while his palms grow sweaty and clammy. It makes him physically shake, the feeling so, so very unpleasant, to the point that it makes him feel physically sick and simultaneously enraged.

Once he recognizes what this feeling is, shame crawls through him, along with confusion. Is this jealousy? Why is it so strong?

Frankly, his mounting jealousy towards other men you spend time with is one of the first signs that alerts Shinsuke that there’s something wrong about he’s feeling for you. Sure, jealousy is normal for romantic relationships, but this?

This isn’t like what he’s heard described – this is strong, raw, overwhelming. It’s hard to think of anything except his anger, like it’s drowning him – and Shinsuke doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like that he can’t stop feeling it, that the sinking feeling only gets worse and worse the longer he watches another man interact with you, the longer he doesn’t step in and do something, anything.

He’s immediately getting pissed the moment he sees another man even coming close to you – he knows what kinds of thoughts they have when they see someone as pretty and innocent looking as you, what kind of sick, depraved, monstrous thoughts are running through their minds when they see a gorgeous woman like you – a woman who’s walking all alone, with no one there to ward off any unwelcome attention.

He knows they’re thinking about hot your body is, how soft and good it would feel to fondle you – and how you look weak enough to not be able to fight them.

They’re thinking about your pretty chest, likely imagining the way your tits would bounce as they fuck into your with careless abandon.

They’re probably staring at your ass, seeing the way it sways as you walk, imagining how you’d look on your hands and knees, pretty hole presented so perfectly to lick and finger.

They’re probably licking their lips at the sight of your legs, perfect to throw over their shoulders and grasp as they pound into you hard enough to get you seeing stars.

He knows they’re thinking about getting you to go out with them, romancing you and getting you drunk so you’re your guard is let down, so that you’re agreeing to everything and spreading your legs for them like some common whore –

(Shinsuke knows all of this because they’re all thoughts he’s had, too – except the difference between him and them is that he loves you, so it’s different. It’s different when he fantasizes about fucking your throat, or when he imagines the way the soft globes of your ass would feel against his palms. It’s different when he’s the one imagining taking you out on a nice date, the wine tasting good but the anticipation of getting you naked and writhing underneath him later tasting even sweeter. It’s different, because Shinsuke needs you – not only sexually, but just you.)

Honestly, at first he isn’t even sure why he’s feeling jealous - you spend time with the farmer himself and give him your attention, so why is he feeling this way?

Why does he feel so horribly inadequate when he sees another man around you that’s a bit more handsome than him, more social or funnier?

He’s not sure, and that itself angers him too, combining with the jealousy to form an enraged, insecure mess.

 But once he sees the man gently place a hand on your shoulder while laughing with you, it all makes sense. He’s angry because that piece of shit is touching what’s his, tainting someone as perfect and wonderful as yourself.

He’s mad that this man has the audacity to simply touch you, to invade your personal space and claim your attention as his own, to put those filthy hands on your body and make you scared and confused and in need of Shinsuke to swoop in and save you.

He’s infuriated that this stranger seems to think of you so familiarly, and if he’s willing to laugh with you, what else is he wanting to do with you? And to you?

And really, how can Shinsuke just stand by and allow you to be taken advantage of by this son of a bitch?

He tends to jump to the worst possible conclusion, automatically suspicious of anyone who approaches you, and while it’s out of character, he’s not really willing to give anyone benefit of the doubt.

He knows he needs to do something, that he’d be a poor excuse of a man to call himself your protector if he’s simply watching you walk into a situation in which you’ll end up bruised, hurt, crying, or any number of horrible outcomes that he can stop.

So, he’ll clench his jaw, stare at the offending man, and roll up his sleeves. He’s not letting you be stolen from him. 

Because Shinsuke doesn’t have much experience being jealous of other men in a romantic context, he’s at first at a bit of a loss on how to terminate the situation he’s presented with; there’s a man you’re talking to, his blue eyes staring at you just a bit too intensely. Shinsuke is sure he has bad intentions; there’s no way he’s not imagining ripping your clothes off and fucking you until you’re sobbing.

There’s no way he’s not planning moves to get you totally at his mercy, wanting to make you emotionally dependent on him so that he can string you along and leave you a sobbing, broken mess, your heart in tatters and likely your bank account, too.

He’s absolutely sure that’s where this man’s intentions are, and yet you’re just laughing with him, entertaining his horrible jokes. Why don’t you laugh with Shinsuke like that?

Why don’t you smile at him so widely, your laugh ringing in his ears until he thinks he’s in heaven?

It’s not fair, and this feeling of inadequacy combined with his rage at the man trying to take advantage of you has his feet moving before his mind can catch up.

His usual method of dealing with rivals for your love and attention is to simply play off of his natural strengths - although he isn’t the tallest man in the world, his aura and muscles are enough to give anyone a small shiver up their spine, and those cold brown eyes of his are capable of staring right through the soul. Years of working the farm has made every muscle in his body stand out, his biceps defined enough to have visible lines.

(Besides, as he marches towards you, he thanks himself for having asked Osamu and Aran for advice on how to deal with jealousy - they’d both separately looked at him a bit puzzled, before telling him to just be yourself, when you’re mad there’s nothing scarier. Shinsuke had cocked a brow and wanted them to elaborate, but neither man was willing to and instead changed the topic of conversation towards something more light hearted – something that wouldn’t get them lectured.)

He’ll nearly running up the two of you, standing next to you and just completely staring the man down - his gaze will hold such judgement, such discontent that the stranger will likely falter, unsure of why he’s being so silently aggressive.

In Shinsuke’s defense, the man had been staring at your body for far too long – and subtly, too, in ways he’s sure you must not have noticed.

He was licking his lips and stealing glances at your chest, your top being just slightly revealing today, and Shinsuke will be damned before he let some digusting pervert ogle your body, to objectify you so unabashedly.

Shinsuke’s arm will wrap around your waist, pulling you into his side as he continues to stare, not letting the stranger have a moment of reprieve while you watch in confusion, unsure of what’s happening or why Shinsuke is being so touchy.

When the man stops speaking to you and instead just simply stares, Shinsuke will turn to you and politely ask about your day, acting like the same traditional, courteous man you know.

He’s completely ignoring the other man, pretending as if he doesn’t exist, and in many ways Shinsuke wishes he could just forget about the stranger.

You’re so pretty like this, looking at him and only him, but once you answer with a ‘good, how about yourself’ in an unsure voice, a strange glint will cross his eyes as he glances at the man standing awkwardly in front of you.

He’ll respond with how his day was going wonderfully, until he stumbled upon this man wasting your time, wasting your energy and patience.

It’s rude, shockingly blunt even for Shinsuke, and before you have a chance to be offended and protest the horrible treatment, the man in question just gapes, before apologizing and scampering off.

And before you can get your tongue working to ask him what the hell that was all about, Shinsuke will smile softly, telling you to follow me, there’s a lovely café down the street; you like crepes, yes? I’ve heard they have the best in town; my treat.

Because when Shinsuke wants to be intimidating, he’s very successful - who would want to cross someone who’s stare is so intense?

Who would want to argue with such confident words, his tone of voice belittling and so honest?

And even if you scold him for being so blunt and rude, he’ll take it all in stride - he can always fall back on the social awkwardness card, claiming that it’s simply how he is, and why are you trying to change him?

He’s not trying to guilt you as he blankly looks at you and explains that it’s just how he is; he’s being honest, really, and in a lot of ways Shinsuke can’t understand why you don’t seem to see the issue with another man trying to steal you away.

Can’t you tell that Shinsuke loves you?

He puts his all into making sure it’s plain as day, because it’s all worth it to have your attention back on him, your eyes looking up at his own and your body facing his. It’s all worth it to keep you away from the prying eyes and fingers of other men who would just hurt you and ruin you, things that Shinsuke would never do.

Because really, to Shinsuke anything is worth it so that you stay focused on him, just as you should be.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Because Shinsuke airs on the more lucid side of things, he knows rationally that kidnapping you is wrong. It goes against everything he wants your relationship to be – natural, passionate, loving and consensual.

Of course, the idea is tempting - very, very much so. It’s so tempting, in fact, that he’d be a liar to say he hasn’t imagined it in vivid detail.

He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t love the concept of you living under the same roof, the lock on the door always set so that you stay in the house, pretty and accounted for while you cook, clean, draw, anything your little heart desires.

He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t vividly imagined the way seeing all of your belongings mixed together makes his heart swell – your toothbrushes laying side by side (perhaps you’d even share one – just the thought gets his cheeks flushing pink), or your clothes hanging up in the same closet (ideally you’d be wearing his clothes, but he understands that your physiques are different – and you’d look pretty in a few dresses with pretty flower patterns, wouldn’t you?)

He’d be wrong to say he hasn’t daydreamed about falling asleep with you in his arms, content with the knowledge that you can’t leave the house, and therefore you’ll be there when he wakes up – perhaps you’ll be in the kitchen making breakfast (doubtful, considering Shinsuke always wakes up before you), or maybe you’ll be in the bathroom, washing your face and wiping away the sleepiness from your eyes (he wishes you’d let him do that for you – you’re so cute when you’re all glossy eyed and sleepy, the remnants of the night still visible in the way you smile so softly at him, the imprints of the pillow and sheets against your cheeks).

He’d be a liar to say he hasn’t imagined the way you’d look so pretty perched on the armchair in the living room, a pair of knitting needles in your hands as you make him a brand new scarf for the upcoming winter, made of your favorite color (now his favorite, as well).

All the while, he’d be outside working the farm, perhaps in town selling his wares, only to come home to you, who’d of course be so overjoyed to greet him because he’s the only other person you ever see anymore, excitedly showing off your nearly finished scarf, telling him you’re knitting your love into it as well, so that he’ll never be cold in his heart because you’ll always be with him.

After a long day of working in the fields and then running errands, you’ll welcome him home with a smile and kiss to his cheek, asking how his day went at work. You’ll help him shrug his jacket off, laughing lightly when he mentions something about a group of rowdy kids in town nearly knocking him over while he was hauling his bags down the street.

Dinner is already in the oven, waiting and staying warm until he’s ready to eat. The food is delicious when you both sit down, the tofu hamburger (his favorite) sitting oh so perfectly on his plate as he places his hands together, praying to the Gods and thanking them for this meal, and more importantly thanking them for you. Shinsuke’s appreciative hums and small compliments are enough to have you beaming, pride swelling in your chest because he likes your food, and you strive to make him happy.

The night will culminate in perhaps reading together on the sofa, then making your way to bed where he’ll either snuggle you up tightly in his arms under the thickest wool blankets, or he’ll kiss you and caress your sides, his kisses going lower and lower until you’re grasping onto the sheets while he tells you in that low, raspy voice he gets when he’s aroused that perhaps it’s time you had a rowdy kid of your own.

It’s a fantasy, but despite how appealing it all sounds – having you permanently in his home, that is – Shinsuke knows he shouldn’t.

You’d hate him if he were to do that. Every fiber of your being would resent him, the man that stole you away from your life and trapped you by his side.

No, he could never set himself up to be in a position where you’ll so easily dislike him, even though it makes his chest ache every moment that you’re not together.

And so, Shinsuke won’t not kidnap you – frankly, you’re most likely already living with him at this point, and he’s all but forcing you to stay home – he’ll convince you to quit your job, to instead let him provide for you, to stop worrying about things like independence and being a ‘burden’ to him. He has to be careful and tread lightly, though, because if you were to realize what he’s trying to do – limiting your time in the outside world, that is – you’d be upset, and then Shinsuke would have to resort to some unsavory methods to get you permanently by his side, just where you belong.

And so, he won’t explicitly kidnap you - with the one, very large caveat of you getting into a life-threatening situation. If your life were at risk, then the farmer would throw all caution to the wind, rationalizing that even though you may hate him for the rest of your life, it’s better than having your pretty body lifeless, your blood smeared on the sidewalk, your eyes empty and your fingers cold.

And so, when the car swerves and manages to hit you, your scream of pain before you black out has Shinsuke’s heart dropping, his own scream echoing past his lips as he holds you in his arms, the nearest hospital not nearly close enough.

He’ll let you recover at the local hospital, coming to visit you everyday until you’re safe enough to return home – except, that home you’re imagining?

Well, even as much as it pains Shinsuke to mention, you won’t be seeing those familiar walls ever again – your new home is him, and he’ll make sure you grow to love it.

You have to love it.

As a captor, Shinsuke isn’t too terrible - if you can get over the fact that he’ll never leave you alone and that he’ll be doing absolutely everything for you in fear that you’ll hurt yourself, then life under his rule will be good.

He hovers over you constantly, letting you know that he’s there and ready to protect you should the need arise, and while it’s absolutely suffocating, at some point down the road you’ll almost find it endearing how much he cares.

Because really, even when he’s got you trapped in the separate apartment shed out in the corner of the farm (where he compromises on letting you reside if he’s taken you because of unforeseen circumstances, and you’re not quite at the stage he needs you to be in order to force you into sharing his bed or letting him hold you at night), he’s so very attentive to your every need.

He’s constantly checking in that you’re warm enough, that you’ve eaten enough, that you’re happy. (That last one always makes you angry when he asks, yelling at him and crying because of course you’re not happy, but he’ll only watch in silence, disappointment in your behavoir and guilt sitting heavy in his stomach – maybe tomorrow when he asks you’ll give a better answer, one that he can stomach and one he likes. Eventually you will – eventually you’ll grow to love him, the Stockholm Syndrome kicking in because he’s all you have left.)

Shinsuke just wants you to feel safe and protected, and if you can get past how many locks are on the door, how there’s nothing in the entire space that could cut through skin, and that his chocolate eyes are always on you, you may even find yourself falling for him.

After all, with every blunt compliment he sends your way (‘your hair needs to be cut - there are many split ends, although it is still quite beautiful’) and every caring coo he sends your way while you sob in his arms, your walls of defense and hate towards him will slowly crumble. Because if you’re stuck here, living out the rest of your life with a man who is absolutely obsessed with you and your future together, there isn’t much you can do besides just let it happen.

And Shinsuke couldn’t be happier. And in the meantime, as you slowly become defenseless against his consistent, oddly undeniable charms, Shinsuke will be trying everything he can possibly think of to win you over.

He’s getting advice from his grandmother (disguising the kidnapping as helping you recover from a car wreck, which gets her tutting and pulling him into a hug, telling him he’s so sweet, she’ll surely love you after you take care of her).

He’s buying you flowers regularly, all in shades that remind him of you. There’s roses, tulips, dahlias, baby’s breath, anything he thinks looks pretty – you’ll find them in a vase on your nightstand, a crisp, white card tucked beside the clear glass of the vase with your name scribbled across it. It’s predictably not long considering it’s from Shinsuke, though the words are precise, meaningful, telling you that he saw these today and they reminded me of you. Perhaps when you’re feeling better we can go and see the flowers together – I’d like very much to take some photographs of you surrounded by the wildlife.

A shiver will run down your spine at the prospect of him photographing you – you’ve seen peeks of the collection of photographs he has, all candids in which you’re unaware of the lens pointed at you, taken with the mental justification that since you’re not naked or doing something extremely personal, it’s not wrong for him to take them.

(At least, that’s what he tells himself – you’d argue that brushing your teeth is personal, that sleeping is very intimate, but Shinsuke begs to differ – besides, you were just too fucking cute to not photograph all drooly and softly snoring.)

He’s bringing home your favorite candies, because while he still feeds you a steady stream of healthy, balanced meals, he likes the way your face lights up when you see the chocolates, how you look at him with a small smile when he tells you that he thought you might enjoy them, and you’ve been very good lately; you deserve a reward.

Shinsuke just wants to woo you, and while he may still be rigid, a bit unapproachable, frankly a bit scary with the way he simply stares, eventually you’ll become used to it, his doting actions becoming familiar.

You’ll accept the way he’s tucking you into bed, laying and arm around your waist as you pulls you into his chest, his soft voice telling you to sleep well my love, I’ll see you in the morning.

You’ll grow used to the way there’s a piping hot breakfast laid out on the table when you wake up, steam still coming off the eggs even after Shinsuke has left for work, the fields taking him away from you.

(His thoughts are still revolving entirely around you as he works, however – thinking of your pretty smile, your voice on a loop in his head, the way you say his name, imagining what it would sound like to hear you say I love you…)

Shinsuke is a determined man, and while he may be a bit guarded and set in his ways, you’ll eventually grow used to being treated as if you were incapable – it’s coming from a place of love after all, and isn’t that just so sweet?

 Isn’t it kind that he wants to spoil you, make sure you never have to worry about a thing, make sure you can never hurt yourself again?

PUNISHMENTS:

Because Shinsuke is more lucid than anything, punishments are not something that occur frequently.

He doesn’t like the idea of disciplining you in a negative way; sure, when you act out, something must be done in consequence, but there’s something about the prospect of purposefully hurting you that makes Shinsuke feel sick, his stomach twisting in knots.

He doesn’t want to punish you – he doesn’t like the idea of harming you in any way, but he can be swayed to, begrudgingly, reprimand you for your poor behavior.

It’s got to be something large that drives him to these measures, however; the strongest trigger for him is any attempt by you to escape.

It’s not even that he’s angry with you -  he is, of course. Furious, even. But really, what drives him to overcome his own mental blocks against harming you is the prospect of you running off into the big, wide world, without any money, orientation of where you are, who you are, what you need.

He’s scared you’ll be taken advantage of; maybe some strange, nefarious man will pick you up as a hitchhiker, taking one look at your shivering, unarmed form and decide you’d be the perfect target.

Maybe some truck will drive by you, speeding so fast they don’t even see your figure until it's too late and there’s a horrible thud and suddenly there’s only blood –

Just the prospect is enough to get Shinsuke’s eyes wide and watery, a hand clutching at his shirt above his heart, his knees shaking because he absolutely cannot have that happen.

He has to protect you, and if you just run off like that, how can he?

He doesn’t want you to hate him – he’s sure you already do, what with him kidnapping you, but he doesn’t want to make your opinion of him worse. Just the mere thought keeps him up at night, his eyes fixed on you as he holds you in his arms, his thumb tracing your cheekbone as he tries to devise ways to make you understand the gravity of your actions without you being harmed.

He considers all kinds of possibilities – isolating you, locking you up in the basement with a bit of food and water so you can reflect on what you’ve done. He ultimately decides against this, though, because he worries you won’t actually eat or drink anything without him there to watch you and force you to.

He considers restricting your access to your hobbies or things to keep you from growing bored while he’s working. It would leave you to, once again, reflect on your poor behavior, and would force you to wait anxiously for his return, because at least then you’ll have something to entertain you, even if it’s your captor. He decides against it, though, because he doesn’t like the idea of you withering away all day, growing bored to the point of insanity, even if it means you’ll willingly hug him and beg him to talk about his day.

He even considers threatening someone you love – it leaves a bad taste in his mouth, both because he doesn’t approve of violence, and because he wants your family to approve of him. (You won’t get to see them much, anyways, but maybe after you’ve accepted your role, accepted him, he’ll let you attend some family functions, introducing him as your husband and gushing to your mother about how perfect he is.)

It’s a fine line to walk, and eventually Shinsuke will sigh and give up, deciding that there really is no way for him to get the point across and still look like the good guy.

He has to be firm about any sort of discipline regarding your negative actions; he’ll look weak if he doesn’t, and having a weak resolve on punishing you will allow you to act up more, will make you more willing to defy him, to try and escape, to hurt yourself, to do all manners of things that make Shinsuke’s heart race in a horrible way.

He has to present himself as the man in charge – he calls the shots, and while he appreciates your input in telling him what you want and how you’re feeling, ultimately Shinsuke knows best. Because while he very much feels that women are equal to men, there’s something about you that makes him pause for a moment, the old stereotypes of men taking care of women seeming oddly appealing.

Because really, isn’t this how nature intended things to be? For him to be in charge, to love you and care for you and know what’s best for you?

Eventually he’ll begin to think that way, and while some small part of him knows it’s wrong to be in such control of your life, Shinsuke can’t find it in himself to care – how can he, when he’s got you by his side, so sweet and pretty as you eat the food he cooked you, sleep in his arms, in his sheets, in his bed?

So really, while Shinsuke is lenient in most every way regarding punishments, if you cross him he will meet your actions with consequences – consequences that leave you sore and unable to sit for a few days, just to remind you of what you’ve done.

He’s had a long day – the rice fields were scalding today, leaving his skin burnt and his agitation levels high.

He’d slipped and gotten mud all over his clothing, leaving him feeling sticky and sweaty and wanting nothing more than to shower and settle down beside you on the couch, a book shared between the two of you as you read and he plays with your fingers. He smiles at the thought – you always smell like vanilla and honey, curtesy of the shampoo he’d gotten you, and he can almost smell it now as he unlocks the front door, swinging it open with a new spring in his step.

And then he’s immediately freezing, his brown eyes narrowing as he takes in the sight before him.

You’re standing there, gaping at him with wide eyes and trembling hands, a paperclip grasped between your fingers. It’s been bent as straight as you could manage, the very tip of it dented and split, as if you’ve been shoving it in something, turning and twisting and forcing–

 It all becomes very clear suddenly; you’re trying to escape. You were taking advantage of the fact that he was working today, that he’d be back in the fields, busy and unable to notice you sneaking away, leaving him, and you were going to run.

Everything is silent and still for a moment, his eyes boring into yours as his lips parting slightly, this kicked, hurt look in his eye that makes you cower ever so slightly, this weird, unplaced sort of shame settling in your gut.

But then he’s suddenly springing forward, arms wrapping around your waist before you can even yelp, the paperclip slipping from your fingertips as he drags you further into the house.

You’re kicking, flailing and feeling tears already slipping down your cheeks, the door getting further and further away, and along with it, your chance at freedom. Shinsuke grits his teeth, the sound of you crying making his heart ache, but the overwhelming sense of anger and betrayal is too strong to ignore. You were trying to leave him.

You were to trying to run away, to get away from him, to never have to see him again and leave him alone, cold, lonely, missing you so desperately it would kill him. His muscles are firm, hard, and even as you push against him, trying to drag your feet or pry his arms off of you, you don’t make so much as a budge.

The mud caked into his working cloths gets onto you, the pretty loungewear set he’d bought you (in your favorite color, of course) now stained a dirty, sludgy brown. Soon he pushes you down onto the couch in the living room, with a force you’ve never felt from him before.

You land with a soft cry, bouncing a bit on the couch, before scrambling away from him, trying to put distance between the two of you. The action only furthers the sense of hurt he’s nursing, and his lips quirk down as he stares at you.

You were attempting to escape. His words aren’t a question, so you don’t answer.

He stares at you for a beat more, before swallowing harshly and sitting down on the end of the couch. You watch with baited breath and confusion, anxiety prickling in your stomach because you’ve never seen him this angry before, and it scares you.

But then he’s reaching out and wrapping his fingers around your ankle, yanking and sending you falling towards him, your lands reaching out to press against his thighs to catch yourself. Behave, he warns you as he shuffles you further up, so that your pelvis is pressed against his thighs, laying across his lap.

His words have you frozen in place, and although you’ve never really considered the possibility of him physically harming you, there’s something about the way he’s breathing uneven and the harsh way he handles you that has you wondering if that’s a real concern.

He’s always treated you like you’re made of glass – gentle and breakable, but with the way his fingers dig into the waistband of your shorts and pull, ripping the material right down the middle, Shinsuke’s a totally different person. He’s a stranger as he repeats the action with the pretty purple underwear stretched across your ass, and for a moment you wonder if perhaps physical harm isn’t the worst of your concerns – you’d be helpless if he decided he wants what’s in between your legs, thoroughly unable to do a thing to stop him.

But luckily, Shinsuke isn’t that much of a monster, and instead he’s resting a hand on your ass. His hand is dirty, and you feel the film of dirt and plant debris and mud sitting against your skin.

You were attempting to escape, he repeats, and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. What was your plan? Do you know where you are? Who would you have contacted, and how? You have no money, and all your relatives and friends think you’ve shunned them. Who would help you?

You freeze at his words, an uncomfortable feeling settling in the back of your throat because he’s right.

It’s reckless and stupid to rush into a situation that you haven’t planned for. You’re being careless; this is why I can’t trust you to be alone yet. You make poor decisions, and now you’ll be punished for them.

Suddenly, his hand is coming down, a harsh, loud smack ringing through the living room as his palm makes contact with your bare ass cheek. It makes you cry out – it hurts, his strength surely leaving your ass sore, and distantly you think back to all those videos you’d seen of his high school years playing volleyball. You can’t get too lost in thought, though, because his hand comes down again, not giving you a second to think.

This is why you need me. You aren’t capable of making good decisions on your own; you need someone to watch over you.

Smack.

I protect you.

Smack.

I provide you with a warm house, food, and love.

Smack.

You are ungrateful; I’ve taught you to be better.

Smack.

I’m disappointed in you; eventually you will be happy with me. You’ll eventually love me, and you’ll be happy here. With me.

Smack.

Stop trying to fight fate; you’ll never win.

Smack.

The spanking is quick, only taking roughly a minute from start to finish, but it feels like a lifetime to you. Your ass is sore, bruises already forming, and as Shinsuke rests his hand on your upper thigh, you can’t help the tears slipping down your cheeks.

The sight of your shoulders shaking and your sniffles makes Shinsuke bite his lip, eyebrows drawing inward because god, seeing you cry is so fucking painful, but he steels himself. This was necessary, inevitable – you don’t understand just what he can provide you, yet.

You don’t understand just what he can give you, yet.

You don’t understand just how much he can love you, yet.

But you will, he’s sure of it – and so as he steps into the shower, having settled you onto the bed, laying on your stomach with an icepack resting on your ass and a blanket thrown over you, he’s nodding his head at himself in the mirror.

You don’t understand that this is for the best yet – but as you avoid escaping in the future, too scared of this new side of Shinsuke, he’ll be pleased.

The longer you stay with him, the more you’ll come to realize that he treats you well – or at least, as well as he can, given the unhealthy nature of his feelings.

You’ll realize how much he does for you – he could’ve done much, much worse than simply spank you, and eventually you will recognize that.

You’ll come to understand that while he’s forcing you to stay with him, to be his housewife and start a family with him, he does genuinely love you. It’s twisted, sick, too much, but Shinsuke is consistent, steady.

You will bend to him, he's sure it. You will love him, even if you don’t believe it yet.

OVERALL DANGER:

6/10

At his core, Shinsuke does love you in some strange, perverse way – he’s enamored with you, obsessed in every possible way, and although he tries to control himself and fight the way his heart pounds and hammers and nearly bursts when you look at him, smile at him, touch him, he’s a lost cause.

He’s not particularly dangerous, despite the depth of his feelings for you – he mostly just wants you to be safe and sound at all times, completely removed form the possibility of hurting yourself, wanting to make sure that you’re taken care of and properly attended to so that you never, ever want for anything. He wants to spoil you, to keep you as his little housewife that he can come home to and kiss and hold, his sweet little thing that enjoys living a quiet, peaceful life with him.

He wants to live out the perfect domestic fantasy with you – he’ll be your hardworking husband, working long hours in the rice fields to provide food and money for you, while you stay inside and cook and clean, your belly swollen and a baby nursing at your breast, your smile wide and pretty and all for him.

 He just thinks you’re perfect in every possible way, and although he wants your relationship to be as normal as possible, his overprotective tendencies will bar that from ever happening.

It’s not normal to not allow you near anything sharp; you’re a fully grown woman, capable of handling a razor or a knife.

(Once he trusts you enough to actually chop things, you’ll be getting a dull chopping knife under the strict stipulation that if you get injured in any way, you will not be given another opportunity to chop things for yourself for quite some time – the next few months will see Shinsuke on chopping duty, while you watch him and see the way his forearms flex and compliment him because you’re a very good cook, dear.)

It’s not normal for him to always be staring at you, those brown eyes fixed on your form like a moth to a flame, always always always watching and observing, making you feel like you’re under a microscope with how his gaze breaks you apart.

Shinsuke is scary, sure, but eventually you’ll come around to him – he’s steady and consistent, and although he’s uprooted you from your life and keeps you trapped in his home, he’s oddly sweet. His blunt compliments take a while to get used to, but his touch is soft and firm, the way he holds you is comforting, and sometimes, when the lighting is just right, he even looks handsome.

Eventually, you’ll become a victim of Stockholm Syndrome, and you may even find yourself slowly returning his feelings – after all, he really does take care of you, doesn’t he?

Doesn’t he pay more attention to you than any man has before, and doesn’t he know you better than even you know yourself? Maybe he’s right; maybe you are meant to be his wife, the mother of his children, and maybe you really will be happy like he keeps promising – life can’t be that bad with him, right?

After all, you’ll never have to worry about anything you did before he came along – money, a job, strangers, anything of the sort. He’ll take care of all of it, so just smile at him and let him kiss you – it’s the least you can do, after all he’s done for you.

[silver-tooth-the-panther]

Time For Twins AU

Headcanons

(Just remember to treat Pastra like a  person, okay?)

This is just a list of headcanons that I have for the series! You may do with them as you wish!

Basic Stuff:

Alex - non-binary, asexual, they/them, Autistic

Spector - He/They, asexual, incredibly oblivious to sexual stuff, ADHD, they look cartoonish

Clyde - He/They, AroAce, they have an incredibly hard time establishing relationships, subtle ADHD

The Hijacker - They/It, AroAce, does NOT understand the appeal of being in a committed relationship

Winfrey - They/Them, bisexual, has a hard time finding mates because of their size

Mortimer - They/Them, pansexual, both ADHD and Autism

Simon - He/Him, straight, severe social anxiety, OCD

Jack - He/It, gay, hyperactive ADHD

Klaus - He/Him, they are child

The Flock - It/It’s, they are a big bird

Pre-Raid:

The Hijacker would read Spec’s stories from within the computer. They’ll never admit it, but they love Spec’s work.

Even though Clyde acted like they didn’t care about their interests, they listened intently to Spec whenever they babbled about a hyperfixation.

Clyde and Spector were very close before the war. They played together as children and Spec looked up to Clyde.

The same goes for Lankmann and The Hijacker, but as we know, insecurity got to Herbert.

Alex was a social butterfly when they went out of the house, but they secretly felt very lonely

They also can’t flirt for shit. It’s their sweetness that pulls people in.

The same goes for Spec, but they are just more oblivious

Spec loves to make food for the ones they love. They cook almost everyday.

Alex shows their affection by giving gifts and physical touch. (They are so warm!!!)

Winfrey would take in little Veldigun children until they found their parents.

The Hijacker and Spec were the only Veldiguns that used technology

Klaus is actually the son of Patient 66 (oh boy, the angst…)

Post-Raid:

Spec often braids Alex’s hair to try to calm them down. They even do this to their tails! If anyone draws this, I will go feral

Those two cuddle all the time. One of their favorite things to do is to wrap a blanket around them and watch movies.

Many of Alex’s art pieces are in Spector’s novels

Spec often finds Alex sleeping in the strangest places. Sometimes on the table. Sometimes on the floor.

This is because their tails will force them to sleep, no matter what Alex does. This constantly annoys them

Speaking of which, Alex is a caffeine addict. They will chug four energy drinks at once

Mortimer ended up adopting Klaus due to not being able to find his mother.

I feel like they would be like Bandit when it comes to parenting. Especially when it comes to Klaus’s creativity

Winfrey is like a parent to everyone. Especially Clyde and Alex…

Clyde and Alex still fight on a regular basic. Clyde causes the vast majority of them.

One of Clyde’s favorite ways to torment Alex is to hold them up by one of their tail.

This was…until Alex swung themselves back at Clyde and fought them. I’ll let you guess who won.

Alex has some sensory issues. For example, they hate slimy textures. Especially, things like eggs, boiled noodles, and thawed meat.

Clyde uses this to torment Alex as well

It has gotten so bad that Jack and Simon have a “Days without Clyde and Alex brawling” board.

Jack knows every bit of drama and tea in the group. Don’t ask how he knows. He may be listening to you right now.

Simon takes care of The Flock. It reminds him of his old pet crows

Spec calls Alex “Little Critter”. Don’t ask why. They just think it’s cute.

Alex’s wings glow during the northern lights

The Hijacker spends most of their time in Spec’s computer. They get anxious around a large group of people.

That’s it so far! I hope you genuinely enjoy this strange little post!

[sterekbros]

the wolf and the renaissance fair (1596 words) by Winchesterek Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Original Children of Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski, Eli Hale (Teen Wolf) Additional Tags: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski are Eli Hale's Parents, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omegaverse Omega Stiles Stilinski, True Alpha Derek Hale, Pack Alpha Derek Hale, Good Pack Alpha Derek Hale, Omegaverse Alpha Derek Hale, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is a Softie, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, POV Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing, Slice of Life, Kid Fic, Fluff, Family Fluff, Parents Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Family Feels, Renaissance Faires, Carnival, Games For @sterekweekly hilarious, @sterekfests road trip, @warmandfluffybingocards won you a carnival prize, @sterekbingo country fair.

Stiles turned around to look into the back seat where Eli was reading a book and Ava was, thankfully, sleeping. He smiled at his little family, his heart filled with overwhelming love. Sometimes it hit him during quiet moments like this, which rarely happened when they were driving. But it was nice, especially since they’d been on the road for a little while and that was like an eternity for his kids.

He reached out to take Derek’s hand, threading their fingers together. “I love you,” he told him quietly and Derek cast him one of those smiles reserved only for Stiles. 

“I love you too,” Derek replied softly and gave Stiles’ hand a squeeze. “We should be there soon. I hope the kids enjoy it. It was always fun when my parents used to take us as kids.”

“I don't think I’ve ever been to a Renaissance fair.” Stiles had checked out the place online and it looked like people really went all out for it. It was seasonal and they had shows and games with prizes and a market that Stiles really wanted to check out if they had enough time. Not only did they have themed shops but the farmers market looked great in the photograph he’d seen on Instagram.

“Maybe if we come next season we can dress up? Elijah will be a little older and Ava would probably be able to fit into a small costume.”

“Only if you dress up too,” Stiles teased. “Tights and all.” Derek laughed. “I’m not going to wear tights. I’ll be a knight and wear britches and armor.” 

“Well hopefully it’s not during the summertime then because you might just boil up in all that armor,” Stiles teased and laughed, imagining Derek dressed up. He couldn’t say that he wouldn’t think Derek was all hot dressed like a knight. It had Stiles thinking about Derek sweeping him off his feet and straight into their bed.

“Yeah, let’s not do that. Hopefully they’ll have one in the fall or closer to the winter time. Wouldn’t want to have a heat stroke dressed up as a knight. I don't know how some of them do it.” Derek laughed and squeezed Sties’ hand. “Thank you for coming and bringing the kids. I know it’s something new.”

“Well, I like doing new things with you. We’ve been together so long, it’s good that we can still find things to do that we’ve never done before. Life’s an adventure.” Stiles’ head rested back against the headrest, rolled in Derek’s direction as he watched his mate, a warmth filling his chest. 

Sometimes it was hard to believe that they were together after everything they’d been through, but Stiles loved Derek more than anything. Well, except their kids. No matter how much they got on his nerves sometimes. It was just part of being a parent.

“I know Ava is only a few months old… but whenever my heat comes again, I want to try for another baby.” He knew it was a sudden change of topic, but he needed Derek to know.

Derek took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay… you know I won't say no to another baby. We waited years between Elijah and Ava, but if you are ready now, then we can try again.”

“It might not even happen right away… You know sometimes it can take a while after I give birth, but I just wanted to talk to you about it before it happened.” Stiles didn't think Derek would tell him no, so he wasn't sure why he was suddenly nervous over the whole thing.

As if sensing his feelings, Derek gave Stiles’ hand another squeeze. “Stiles. I love you. I love our family. Another child, it would only fill our house with more love…”

That calmed Stiles’ nerves and he smiled at Derek before glancing into the backseat. Ava was still asleep (and still human, thankfully) and Elijah was still engrossed in his book, oblivious to their conversation.

“Thank you,” Stiles said as his gaze returned to Derek’s. 

“I should be thanking you for everything you’ve given me.”

“We’ve given each other a lot of things… there’s no keeping score,” Stiles assured him and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

They fell into a comfortable silence as Derek drove them the rest of the way to the Renaissance fair.

Once they were there, Stiles took care of Ava, changed her, and had her ready for the fair in no time while Derek got Elijah situated. They carted the kids off to buy tickets and get them through the gates as they thankfully beat the crowds.

The atmosphere changed the second they were inside, where there were tents, tables, stables, and signs that stated they had wares. They walked by a shop that said they made handmade books and Stiles was intrigued. They’d have to stop by on their way out to see what they had inside. 

He rubbed Ava’s back as he carried her in her wrap against his chest, Derek walking next to him with Elijah on his shoulders. Elijah’s eyes were big and he was excited about everything babbling and pointing and giggling. Thankfully Derek had a strong grip on him, so Stiles wasn't afraid that Elijah would topple off of Derek’s shoulders the second he saw something else he was excited about.

They watched a jousting tournament and the knights as they fought during the sword fights. The knights were given their prizes and they were off to check the market. Stiles was especially excited to see what they had at the farmers market, despite all the cool things they also had for sale there.

After buying a basket full of strawberries, they headed in the direction that stated they had more traditional fair games on the map.

“So which one do you want to play?” Derek asked Elijah as he jiggled him on his shoulders. Elijah looked thoughtful at all of the games. 

“Hmmm,” Elijah said, putting his finger up to his face and studying each game more thoroughly as if he knew what each one was.

Stiles knew that he was really checking out the prizes.

“That one!” Elijah shouted and pointed. “It has a big wolf!”

Stiles laughed. He knew their son. It was all about the prizes for him. Stiles couldn’t deny that he liked the prizes too. He remembered the first time Derek took him to a fair, early in their courting. They’d gone home with several prizes that night, but the best prize was Derek. He knew it was cheesy, but Stiles loved him so damn much.

“Whoa! That’s a huge wolf!” Stiles exaggerated and smiled when Derek looked over at him.

“That one looks good, bud. Did you want me to play all the rounds or did you want to try?” Derek asked as he tapped Elijah on the thigh.

Elijah looked thoughtful again like this was serious business. Finally, he said excitedly, “I want you to do it! So you can get me the big wolf!”

Stiles laughed, smoothing his hand along Ava’s back as she stirred in her baby wrap. “Well, then let’s go win us a giant stuffed wolf. I’m not sure where we’re going to put it at home, but we’ll figure it out.”

“It will go in my room!” Elijah countered like it was law.

“Of course it will,” Derek chuckled, glancing over at Stiles and then motioning with his head as they started over to the game tent.

When they got there, they paid the attendant and they gave Derek three balls to throw at a stack of bottles. Derek missed the first two with greatly exaggerated terrible accuracy, which had Elijah laughing next to him as he waited. Stiles thought it was adorable and yes, he made sure he was recording it on his phone so he could tease Derek about it later. 

He was such a great dad. An amazing mate.

When Derek threw the last ball, he knocked all of the jars down and Elijah screamed in excitement. Stiles chuckled and watched as Derek picked Elijah up and put him on his shoulders. They talked to the attendant and Elijah pointed eagerly at the giant stuffed wolf. When it was handed over, Elijah had a hard time holding onto it so it smacked Derek in the face, but he didn't complain. Stiles managed not to laugh despite how hilarious the whole situation was, with the stuffed wolf dwarfing them.

Derek helped Elijah hold onto the wolf off to the side of his shoulder instead of in front. “Hold on tight, Elijah! You don't want to drop him.”

“I won't!” Elijah promised, but Stiles wasn't so sure about that as the stuffed wolf swung as Derek walked with Elijah still on his shoulders.

“Ready to go home?” Derek asked, stopping in front of Stiles.

The stuffed wolf bumped into Stiles as Elijah moved on Derek’s shoulder and he laughed softly. “I love you,” he said softly, leaning in to give Derek a kiss. “Yeah, let’s go home. We have to find somewhere for that stuffed wolf to live anyway.”

Derek chuckled and kissed Stiles’ temple, one arm wrapping around him as they walked, his other holding Elijah steady on his shoulders. 

Stiles couldn't wait for the next time they came to the fair as he leaned against Derek while they walked back to the car. They’d had a perfect family day and Stiles was warm with happiness and the promise of more in their future.

[roseandgold137]

Hi hi hi

I would love to know about SuperStar if you would like a reason to say literally anything about her. She’s so pretty i wanna know who she is

okay this has been so long waiting but I’ll be totally honest I had no backstory for her when I got this ask but now. I finally have a story for her that will hopefully make sense 💛

Lori Ko-Roz or Laura Rose (her American/stage name) lived the classic American life in Arizona, where she was very involved in the local theatre group with her friends, Sydney, Cali and Madison. Lori and the others are all very excited abt one event in particular, bc there’s going to be an opportunity to get an appearance on a show (haven’t invented that one yet ngl. Would be funny to make it and Wendy the Werewolf Stalker reboot though). Lori and Madison both make it to the final auditions, but Lori beats her out by an incredibly narrow margin.

all seems well for a while but, while Lori is enjoying her newfound fame (mostly due to her unique appearance thanks to her kryptonian genes), Madison is stewing in resentment, and this makes her an easy target for people that want to get to Lori.

so Lori gets a couple of weeks of luxury before things start to seem… off. Something is wrong. Madison is acting weirdly - maybe just because she’s a notoriously sore loser, or maybe, there’s something more going on. Lori tries to talk to her, but Madison reveals her hand and attacks - but she attacks too early, and she’s not prepared to fight a Kryptonian, whether Lori really knows how to use her powers in a fight or not.

Madison runs off - and Lori lets her. The betrayal refuses to really sink in. Lori tries to return to her new life, but it feels hollow. She can’t stop thinking of Madison - where did she go? What happened?

thus, Superstar is born. Lori wouldn’t deny she’s got a bit of an ego, after all. Her search for Madison does little but turn up small clues here and there, but along the way, she starts helping people out. Madison still hangs heavy on her mind, but as she searches, her kryptonian powers quickly and her Superstar moniker quickly lead to her being tied to Superman & co in the media.

Thus continues lori’s obstacles to Madison increasing as Clark tries to find her for a conversation, as her frustration around being mixed up as a supergirl rises, and it all boils over in an outburst that makes Lori fly off again to cool off for a few weeks. There, she makes a decision. She knows Madison doesn’t want to be found. Looking for her has led to nothing. But she can’t lose hope - she could just leave it on her back burner.

Lori returns as Superstar. She eventually finds other heroes her age - Veda, Kelsie, Sinam’n and Nebiri - and together they form the newest Teen Titans. And, maybe, they’ll be able to help her find Madison as well.

Also - the new design for Lori, bc I changed quite a bit lol

[filthy-mudeoki]

Little gift

It's the most magnificent news they've ever received; this little star of theirs. Sang Zhi and Duan Jiaxu decide it's time to share the excitement with their family ... but first they're going to have a little fun with it.

Tagging: @kairadiamond .... it's been a while bestie! Hope you enjoy this one!

No jokes though it has been some time since I last posted a story. I hope you all enjoy this one. Thank you all for the wonderful response to all these stories!

You can read the others stories that fall part of the series on AO3 called Slowly, then all at once

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

The tiny little sound fills the room and for a moment neither Jiaxu or Sang Zhi can breathe. He looks at his wife, her eyes wide in surprise with a hand over her mouth as she muffles her gasp. 

“Is that ...” he’s scared to ask. Worried that the beautiful little sound will go away. 

The doctor smiles kindly. “Yes. That’s your baby’s heartbeat. And this,” she says swivelling the screen around and points to something he cannot make out, “is your baby.” 

Both Jiaxu and Sang Zhi lean forward. It takes a while before he sees it. But when he does, his heart stops for a moment. There it is, a tiny blip of a thing. Their baby.

They sit pressed together for the longest time. The doctor kindly leaves them for a bit. Jiaxu has Sang Zhi engulfed in his embrace as they stare at the tiny blob on the screen. 

“Can you believe?” Sang Zhi asks. Her voice is a soft whisper in the room, but it carries all the awe and wonder they both feel. 

“No.” He presses a kiss to her hair and smiles. It still very much feels like a dream. 

She chuckles. “I think we can tell our family now.” 

“Are you ready for that?” 

“Hm… yes. I want them to know. Are you okay with that?” 

“Of course.” He can’t wait to share this utterly wonderful news and he knows their family will be beyond happy. 

They leave the doctor’s room with three copies of the ultrasound picture. Their baby is only a little blob on the picture and more than once Sang Zhi has lost it as she stares at it. Jiaxu only chuckles softly and kindly points it out to her again. When they get home, Sang Zhi takes their copy of the scan and draws a heart around their baby. She sticks it to the mirror at their vanity, so that they can see it every morning as they get ready. 

They decide to tell Sang Yan first. There is no true reason beyond they fact that they don’t think they’ll be able to keep it a secret from him much longer. He’s almost always at their house, Sang Zhi is surprised they haven’t let it spill yet. 

Sang Zhi and Jiaxu decide to tease him a little over it too. Sang Zhi places the ultrasound photo with two other objects she’s gotten in a big box and wraps it up, adding a bow too. She leaves it out, knowing Sang Yan in all his curiosity will find it sooner or later. Atop the box she fixes a tag that simply says: 

To Sang Yan 

From X 

It’s enough to drive him crazy she knows. The message inside the box contains a little more information and Sang Zhi can’t wait to see her brother’s face when he reads it. 

But first they have fun with it. 

Sang Yan comes around for dinner every other day and it does not take him long to find the prettily wrapped box. 

“Ya, little demon! Why are you hiding this?” he frowns holding up the box for closer inspection. 

Sang Zhi rushes to him and tries to reach for it. “It’s not for you!” 

Sang Yan immediately objects. “What do you mean? It’s got my name right there.” He points to it on the envelope. “Who is X? When did you get this?” 

Sang Zhi makes a show of rolling her eyes and sounding exasperated. “It’s not for you! Not yet at least.” 

“What do you mean?” 

She sneakily steals back the box with his attention diverted. “It’s not ready yet. You have to wait before you can receive this gift.” 

“That’s nonsense! I want to see it now! Give it back little demon,” he demands, trying to take the box back. 

Sang Zhi squeals and jumps away. Jiaxu has to resist the urge to tell her to be more careful. He’s been extra attentive on everything that his wife does. But he knows if he says something, it will give away their little game. So, he pouts and turns his back on the siblings so he does not see all the new ways his wife will cause him to have a little heart attack. He can still hear them arguing and laughs. 

“Sang Zhi, my name is on the box. It belongs to me!” 

“Not yet! You have to wait gēge!” She huffs and puts the box back on the shelf. “It’s not time yet. You’ll just have to be patient!” 

Sang Yan scowls. “Fine! But at least tell me who it is from.” 

Sang Zhi gives her brother a sweet smile. “No.” 

“Little demon!” 

“Silly dog!” 

Jiaxu laughs as he comes back into the room, carrying the last of the food. “Come on you two. Let’s eat.” 

“Ya! Jiaxu! You know who it’s from. Tell me,” Sang Yan whines. “What is it?” 

Jiaxu shakes his head. “I don’t know anything.” 

Sang Yan narrows his eyes at his best friend. “Liar.” 

Jiaxu only laughs as they start eating. Throughout dinner, Sang Yan looks longingly at the box. It takes everything Jiaxu and Sang Zhi have not to burst out laughing. 

“Zhizhi, tell me,” Sang Yan tries to coax over dessert. “Please … just a little clue. You don’t have to tell me what’s in it. Just who it’s from.” 

Sang Zhi only smiles and shakes her head. Sang Yan leaves their home that night with a mighty pout and Jiaxu knows Sang Zhi has won the first round. 

It does not take long for Sang Yan to start round two. He takes to hounding her, now that he can’t find the box. (She’s hidden it away knowing Sang Yan’s curiosity will likely cause him to rip the box open.) 

“Where is it?” he frowns one night as they settle for a movie and drinks. 

Sang Zhi smiles innocently and Jiaxu hides his smirk behind his drink. “Where is what?” 

Sang Yan does not buy it, pursing his lips at his sister. “Is this supposed to be some kind of treasure hunt? Am I supposed to go looking for it?” 

“Don’t you dare go trifling through my drawers you silly dog!” 

Sang Yan smirks. “Maybe I will. Scared I’ll find it?” 

Not one to be beaten so easily, Jiaxu watches as his Zhizhi tosses her hair over her shoulders, fixing her brother with a smirk. 

“You really want to go through my things, Sang Yan? Aren’t you afraid of what you might find?” 

Jiaxu chokes on his drink as a slight pink tinge over takes his cheeks. The subtle implication of her words not lost on any of them. Sang Yan squirms in his seat, his face settling into another aggrieved scowl. 

Point Zhizhi.

They settle in for the movie and Sang Yan does not mention the box until he leaves. 

“Just tell me who X is.” 

Sang Zhi shakes her head and tries to playfully push him out the door. Sang Yan pushes back and Jiaxu has to close his eyes again as he watches the siblings. Sang Yan does not know it yet, but Jiaxu has been extra careful around Sang Zhi. He knows it’s going to drive his wife crazy sooner or later but he can’t quite help it yet. 

“Bye gēge! Maybe if you’re kind to me next time I’ll tell you!” She laughs as she closes the door. 

Jiaxu comes around, laughing as he hugs his wife close. “How much longer are you going to torture him?” 

She wrinkles her nose and he places a kiss on it because it’s utterly adorable when she does that. He wonders for a moment if their child will do the same. He’s been having a lot of those kind of thoughts lately. 

Jiaxu wonders all kinds of things. At the moment its mostly what will their baby look like. He’s not overly particular about it being a girl or a boy, so long as it is healthy. At least that is what he had thought first. Now that they’ve had more time to think about it, he hopes that maybe it will be a girl. He won’t mind it either way, but there is something about having a mini version of Sang Zhi that sets his heart high. He can just picture the two of them in his mind. He’s lost himself to that daydream on more than one occasion so far. 

It makes him giddy with excitement that he almost always forgets how nervous he actually is about having a baby. 

“Maybe I’ll take pity on him and tell him next time.” She laughs and Jiaxu kisses her. 

“Speaking of which, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Jumping around like that Zhizhi,” Jiaxu says softly. 

“Ah, sorry.” She winces. “But I’m okay.” 

“I now… it’s just …” he sighs not knowing how to explain just how nervous he is about all this. 

He doesn’t have to. She cups his cheek, pulling his closer. “I know. I’ll be more careful, Jiaxu.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

He smiles down at her, kissing her cheeks, then her nose and then at last pulls her even closer as his lips finds hers. 

They don’t have to wait long for Sang Yan to come around again. He comes bearing a delicious chocolate cake that is a favourite of Sang Zhi’s. He’s hoping to bribe his way to the truth. It’s a bribe that is not really needed as this time she purposely does a poor job of hiding the wrapped box near the couch. Sang Yan finds it not long after he arrives and begins to pester Sang Zhi. 

“Come on! Just tell me!” 

“No!” 

“But it’s got my name on it!” 

“So? It’s not ready yet. You have to wait a little longer.” 

“What does that even mean? Are you making it? Is it something I can eat? Or … Is it is a new game?” 

Sang Zhi looks thoughtful. “I suppose in time it could be something you could play with. But you’d have to be very careful with it.” 

“Is it delicate?” 

“Very,” Jiaxu immediately answers. 

Sang Yan’s eyes grow wide and he leaps over the couch, marching over to his friend. “You do know! Tell me! Tell me now!” 

“No!” Jiaxu laughs, backing up. But there isn’t much room left for him to run. “You have to wait. But trust me, dàjiùzi it’s worth the wait.” 

Sang Yan does not look appeased. He huffs before turning back to his sister. “Ya, little demon, just tell me or I’ll open the box now.” 

“You will not!” she immediately scolds. 

Sang Yan smirks and lunges for the box that has been sitting on the table. Sang Zhi copies his action and Jiaxu winces and them both. His heart in his stomach and before he knows it, he’s reaching for his wife. One hand grabs the box while the other wraps around her waist, pulling her close to him. She stalls her movements as he looks at her with an amused look and a raised brow. 

She’s somewhat sheepish as she suddenly remembers. 

Huffing, she looks at her brother then over to her husband. They share a knowing smile and it’s enough to drive Sang Yan crazy. 

Jiaxu takes pity on his friend. “Shall we tell him?” 

“Hhm…” Sang Zhi looks at her brother, and he’s trying to glare at them but it loses all its real power as he stares at the box in Jiaxu’s hand. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait, gēge?” 

“Sang Zhi!” her brother whines. 

She laughs, taking the box from Jiaxu. “Fine! But I still think you’d appreciate this … little gift if you waited a little longer.” 

He shakes his head in disagreement but argues no further when Sang Zhi holds the box out to him. He raises a brow, sceptical for a moment, but quickly takes it from her before she can change her mind. 

The bow is quickly cast aside as is the wrapping. Sang Zhi is giggling and Jiaxu presses a kiss to her head, the nervousness in his stomach rising once more. He’s excited about this. Hasn’t stop thinking about it since Sang Zhi told him and he hopes with all his heart that Sang Yan will be just as happy. 

“What …?” Sang Yan asks confused as he looks inside the box. 

He pulls out two similar pair of whacky sunglasses. Reminiscent of the ones Sang Zhi had once bought for him. Except these are a little more … extra. 

“Is this supposed to be for me?” he asks holding up one pair. 

Sang Zhi nods, a brilliant beaming smile on her face. 

He laughs, and wastes no time placing the glasses on his face. “And this one?” he holds out the other pair. They match his except they’re much smaller in size. A kiddie size if Sang Yan were to guess. 

“Look again gēge,” Sag Zhi prompts. 

Sang Yan does and finally notices the ultrasound photo at the bottom of the box. He lifts it’s, a confused frown on his face. He looks between the photo and them. 

“Turn it over, dàjiùzi,” Jiaxu offers. 

Sang Yan turns it over, and his eyes go wide as he reads the message Sang Zhi has left for him on the back. 

For my favourite jiù jiu. I can’t wait to meet you. From Baby Duan.

“Jiù jiu …b-baby Duan…?” he stumbles over the words looking at them in disbelief. Sang Yan looks at his two-favourite people in the world with shock and awe. “Zhizhi… are you really pregnant?” 

She smiles so wide; she does have the mind for words. Nodding only as she looks at her brother. He stumbles back, holding the note tightly in his hand. 

“Really? I’m going to be an uncle?” 

“Yes. You’re going to be a jiù jiu.” 

Sang Yan takes in a shaky breath before he grins at them both. “Ya! Little demon! I’m going to be a jiù jiu!” 

Sang Zhi laughs and Jiaxu lets go as Sang Yan comes over to hug her. Her brother hugs her tightly and they don’t need words between them for her to know how excited and thrilled Sang Yan is for them. 

“I can’t believe you two are going to be parents.” Sang Yan says. He’s the most sincere Jiaxu has seen in a while when he pulls Jiaxu in for a hug. “Congrats brother,” he whispers to Jiaxu. 

Sang Zhi wipes the tears from her face and rushes to get something to celebrate the moment with. She returns with sparkling cider and Sang Yan is so happy he doesn’t even blink an eye when Jiaxu pours him a glass too. 

They toast to the new addition and Sang Yan can’t help but look at his sister and brother-in-law with new awe. He’s also unbelievably happy. He can’t think of anybody that deserves it more. He’s already more than confident that they will make the best parents to this little baby. This little gift that he can’t wait to meet. 

“The baby won’t be here for another seven or so months,” Sang Zhi tells him. 

They’re all sitting in the living room now. Jiaxu’s put on music and Sang Yan insisted on being the one to organise their snacks. Sang Zhi had rolled her eyes, suddenly realising it was not just an overprotective Jiaxu she would have to deal with now. 

“Have you told māma and bàba yet?” 

“No. I will tell them soon,” Sang Zhi says. “Will you be there when we do?” 

“Of course. If that is what you want. But you know, they’re going to be so happy.” Sang Yan looks at his sister and brother-in-law, “I am happy for you both. You’re going to make great parents.” 

“Thank you,” Jiaxu replies. 

Sang Yan sniffles back his tears and raises his glass. He looks at his sister as she sits with Jiaxu, both their hands placed gently over her stomach. “To our little gift. I can’t wait to meet you.” 

Sang Zhi and Jiaxu chuckle, raising their glasses as they echo his sentiments. Seven months suddenly seems far too long a wait for them. 

jiù jiu – uncle 

gēge – brother 

māma – mum 

bàba - dad

[risukadarlin]

[piofiore no banshou] vol. 4: henri - track one

1; midi

masterpost

                                                                                                                       ✿

[00:05] Oh, I’ll carry that.

You can leave the heavy lifting to me.

You can open that package instead.

I think we’ve finished unpacking now.

We only brought the essentials, so it wasn’t too bad at all, thankfully.

This is our new home.

The table.

The sofa.

The curtains.

And the bed.

I prepared the basics for us, but we can replace them if you find something you like.

It’s a bit smaller than your old room but I didn’t think a huge room would be any better.

You still seem worried whenever I’m not by your side.

That’s not it?

So… You just like being spoiled?

Don’t hide your face.

Look at me.

[01:18] You look good with your hair tied up too.

Of course, it looks just as good down.

You must be tired after such a long journey.

Even if we did stop at a hotel halfway, it doesn’t change the fact we took a longer route.

I’m sorry for pushing you so hard.

But… I’m glad we could leave some flowers for the children…

We haven’t seen them since I left everything with that person, after all.

Back then, my priority was protecting you.

I knew we couldn’t stay in that place for too long, so I even left the burial to someone else.

I know better than anyone that graves mean nothing to the dead, but…

I hoped it might bring them some salvation.

I pray they rest in peace.

Let’s go back one day.

We can’t go regularly.

But we should go again soon.

Oh, that’s right.

What should we do this afternoon?

There are still a few things we need to sort out but you can stay here and rest if you’re too tired…

Really?

Then let’s go out together.

We need things for the kitchen first.

We have a fridge but it’s empty right now.

Shopping is important but we’ve just arrived.

Shall we take a look around Bordeaux?

What do you think?

I’m glad you’re finally able to be open about how you feel.

You’re so cute.

Let’s have lunch first. We can find a cafe nearby.

Then we can look around the town for a bit.

We can buy the basics just before we come home.

Let’s buy the rest tomorrow and explore a bit more if we still have time after that.

Let’s go then!

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[03:56] How was the food?

I’m glad it was to your taste.

The food here is quite different from where we just came from.

Lyon is famous for dishes made with tripe.

Its development was driven by the production of silk, so there are a lot of labourers living there.

So, they devised a way of making cheap ingredients taste delicious.

Bordeaux, on the other hand, flourished due to trade.

It’s also especially famous for its wine.

They use bordelaise sauce with meat and fish alike. It’s made with red wine.

It’s a lot more simple than other places we’ve lived.

Though, there is the famous Lamprey à la Bordelaise. 

I don’t think I’d like it very much.

I’ll try to find a restaurant that you’ll like.

When our affairs are a bit more in order, I want us to go on a long, relaxed date.

You always make cafe au lait at home. I’ve even started drinking it when we leave the house now.

You’re looking out for me, aren’t you? I know I don’t eat very much.

You think it’s better than me just drinking espresso, don’t you?

I know hot milk is better for the stomach but I just can’t bring myself to like it.

I’m sure you know that already, though.

Anyway, we’re in an entirely new city. Is there anything you’d like to know?

I’ll tell you anything I know.

Oh, that building you can see over there is the Grand Théâtre.

Bordeaux has been a seat of the government twice in the past.

During that time, it was used as the National Assembly for the French Parliament.

Let’s go to the Opera again soon.

I’m sure they’ll show one you enjoy soon.

Is there anything else?

[06:20] You want to know why I chose to move here?

Do you remember last year, we went to Bled in Slovenia during Christmas?

When I asked you where else you wanted to go, you gave a few options.

Bavaria in Germany.

The capital of music, Vienna.

And then, Bordeaux.

You said you wanted to see the Port of the Moon at night.

Obviously, I wanted to grant one of your wishes.

But this place is very convenient for me, too.

The population is large enough and the transportation system is rather varied.

There’s a railway and boats. 

We have options if something happens.

It’s also on the West coast of France, which is ideal.

I wanted to put some distance between us and Germany, considering the state of things there.

The church is still looking for you, even now.

I don’t think they’ll be able to find us easily, but apparently he put some rather troublesome traps in place before he died.

You don’t need to worry, we’re well hidden.

All this moving from city to city is just an extra precaution.

Until a while ago, I planned to allow karma to hit me with open arms.

I believed I deserved to be punished for my crimes.

If I really thought I’d one day be forgiven for what I did, I never would have plotted revenge.

But… I never planned to involve you. Any of you.

I thought I could protect you by locking you in that small house.

But it wasn’t enough.

That’s why I won’t ever let them be one step ahead of us again.

I don’t plan to hold back against anyone who tries to interrupt our life.

Obviously, it would be best if they never found us at all.

Don’t you think?

[09:01] Are you ready to go?

What do you want to see first?

Bordeaux Cathedral? It’s around 10 minutes from here.

We can see a few sights as we walk over.

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[09:24] Bordeaux Cathedral, or the Primatial Cathedral of St Andrew, was built in the 11th century.

Well, the foundations were. They’ve been adding to it ever since.

You can see the spire from anywhere in the city.

You could even say it’s the building that best represents Bordeaux.

It was once used for the wedding of the King of France.

It’s also famous for the sculptures of the Biblical Day of Judgement.

There really are a lot of people.

Come here.

It’s a famous sightseeing spot. It can’t be helped.

Stay close to me.

I don’t want you to leave my side.

Okay?

Good. Let’s go inside, then.

I’m sure you’ll love the inside just as much as the outside.

[10:41] Isn’t it bright?

Most big, historical churches end up being quite gloomy inside.

But here… It looks like the entire inside is shining white.

I don’t believe in God, but I think you look beautiful in this Cathedral.

It reminds me of Burlone.

I remember once, you looked after me in the church, right after I’d been hit.

I was shocked; you said exactly the kind of thing my sister would have said.

Oh. I never really told you about what kind of a person my sister was, did I?

Let me think… 

Chloe was bright and sociable. She didn’t get shy around anyone.

When we were with the Falzone, she spent more time surrounded by adults than with me.

It was hard, at times.

But I never blamed her for it.

She was desperate to make a place for us in that mansion.

And now I know that love makes us do crazy things.

Where do you want to go after we finish exploring here?

Maybe we should go somewhere where we can see the entire city?

Ah, before that, you should pray while we’re here.

I’ll wait for you.

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[12:54] I knew you’d like The Grosse Cloche.

Can you see the Garonne River from here? It’s shaped like a crescent moon.

It’s almost blinding in the evening sun.

I can see why they call it the Port of the Moon.

So, how is it? Do you think you’ll like it here?

I’m glad.

There is just one thing weighing on my mind.

Bordeaux is a university city.

I saw a lot of men today who are the same age as you.

I know it might sound childish but a lot of them were looking at you.

If I wasn’t here, they’d most definitely try to talk to you.

I’m a bit worried.

Your shoulder?

Oh, yes… I was holding you close to me all day.

Especially in front of the cathedral and when we were in crowds.

I barely even thought about it myself.

I mean… I can certainly think of a reason why.

You said it before yourself, didn’t you?

I need to practise touching you.

It was probably because of that.

Now, I can’t relax if I’m not touching you.

It’s that time already?

I did plan on eating out tonight but maybe we should relax at home instead.

We should buy a bottle of wine and toast to our new lives.

[ciaossu-imagines]

sangaku manami + 👼 - babysitting, 2nd prompt

Oh, I like this question! This one really made me stop and think, consider out everything and weigh out what was in my head. It’s always exciting when requests do that – challenge me to consider characters in ways I’ve never done before. I hope these end up being fun to read and that they feel true to the incredible character Sangaku is!

How good is the character at babysitting?

My first initial, knee-jerk reaction to this question was to think that of course he’d be a great babysitter. There’s a lot about Manami that can be quite childish and child-like in nature, so he’d be able to click well with the children. As someone who hates to be still, idle, and bored, he’d keep the kids active, tucker them out for the parents, and keep the children entertained.

On top of all that, I really do see Sangaku as someone who really does enjoy children. They’re fun to him. Instead of viewing kids as having too much energy, being too needy, or too emotional, Sangaku sees all those things about children and loves them because of it. Kids keep things fun and interesting for him and he finds their honesty about everything they see, think, or feel refreshing.

Seems a natural choice for a babysitter, someone who would be loved by the parents and the children.

But when I really got into thinking about it, the more I picked it apart, the more convinced I was that my answer had to change and that no, he would actually be rather a horrible babysitter in a lot of ways. There’s quite a few children who would absolutely be terrified upon hearing he was going to be their sitter and I think a lot of parents would find fault with him in that position as well.

For one thing, outside of cycling, Sangaku doesn’t have a strong sense of personal responsibility. I mean, how many times has the boy been late to school or gotten so caught up in doing something that he completely forget that he’d needed to be somewhere or that he’d needed to be doing something else. Hell, sometimes he’s purposefully gotten caught up in something as an excuse to not do the needed thing. I can definitely see this being where the parents would hate him at times comes in. I can see him spacing out, being too into cycling or was taking a nap or who knows, maybe he plain out forgot that he was supposed to be babysitting. He’d agreed, been told a time to be there, and whoops, now he’s half an hour late. An hour late. Maybe he just didn’t show up at all.

On top of that, Sangaku can get a little too caught up in something and that, combined with his really relaxed and laid back attitude, means that sometimes he gets careless or forgets to pay close enough attention. When you’re around children, especially younger children, this can not only be a very bad idea, but a very dangerous one.

That laid back attitude can also mean that he really does let the children get away with a lot of things that their parents would very much frown upon. If it’s not actively harming the children and it makes them happy, why not, right? It’s why he’d have parents come home to find their kid eating their sixth bowl of ice cream, still awake at eleven on a school night and riding a sugar high.

The last thing that I thought of, that firmly put it in the no camp for me, is that there’s really only specific types of children that Manami would actually be good with and would get along with. Like I mentioned, he’s not really someone who wants to slow down, to just stay indoors and play video games or do crafts or things like that. He wants to be active, he wants to be up and doing things. When the kids he babysits are also those types of people, this works out fantastically. But not all children are alike and those kids who are more indoors people, who might be more shy or just more laid-back in that type of way, where they prefer to stay indoors and play games or have tea parties and such, are not much going to like him. In fact, they’ll probably cry when they hear Manami is going to be their babysitter, because he’ll force them to do mostly what he enjoys doing – getting them outside and running around, playing in the park, etc.

[perexcri]

to hell and back again now exists as a physical object!

(cat for size comparison )

hello hello!! i’m here for an official post to brag about @chubsonthemoon, a dear and lovely friend/hamster/beautiful fic writer and binder/Sandman zine contributor(!!!) who recently bound To Hell and Back Again as a present 💜

chubs is a dear irl friend and is (as i said in my final a/n for thaba) quite literally the only reason i ever started reading or writing fic in the first place. we’ve become good friends over the past couple of years, and i’ve loved being able to embrace these aspects of fandom that i never allowed myself to when i was younger (for many reasons, but that’s another story), and it’s really all thanks to them.

so without further ado, here are some pics of their lovely work!! they’re going to be making their own post about it later, so i’ll be reblogging that here and linking to it in this post as well, because they’ll have far more cool details to explain about the actual binding process than i could never articulate (they literally sent me a full video explaining so many things and i responded with something to the effect of “and the way you did that binding thing - i think you said it was German??” and “wOAh tHE edgEs”, so).

so, first of all: the covers!! @byierficrecs​ was very kind to make such a lovely graphic for this fic, and he was especially kind to let chubs use it for the actual cover!! i know most people in the fandom seem to already know about Angel and the lovely work he does, but if you haven’t checked out his work, please go give it some love~ (the original thaba graphic can be found here!!)

the spine, with chubs’ lovely little maker’s mark :D

(and if i rearranged my bookshelf just so i could put it between all of my R. F. Kuang books then that is my business alone)

and tHE EDGES?? i kind of blacked out after i opened the package today so i didn’t notice until about 10 minutes afterwards that they had continued the vines from the graphic onto the edges?? chubs i know i already screamed at you in private but now i get to do it on a public platform so please know i am still freaking out about this

art!! look at the lovely art!! thanks again to @starsarefire824​ and @itssstarry​ for your lovely work!! i love getting to stare at these pieces regardless, but now i get to hold them in an actual physical form and stare at them heheheh. posts to show them support and/or links to find their work can be found here (for @starsarefire824​) and here (for @itssstarry​)!!

and finally, here’s it opened to my favorite chapter!! just if anybody wants to see the typsetting :D

thanks again to everybody who contributed to this!! like, yeah, i wrote it, but @chubsonthemoon​ bound it, and @byierficrecs​ designed the cover, and @starsarefire824​ and @itssstarry​ contributed art? idk my brain’s being broken tonight over the fact that people can live in completely different places and all contribute to this thing that now takes up physical space on my bookshelf. i can’t really use my words right now, so here’s a poorly-made meme to express my thoughts instead:

and especially thanks to you, chubs!! again, you are a wonderful friend, and i’m glad we got to meet each other 💜 bonding over Chris Fleming videos and our shared connections (i’m thinking of cats and giraffes, ofc) has led to some wonderful memories. Louie says hello, btw!! she was sniffing your handiwork very intently heheheh :] 💜💜💜

anyways, i hope you guys enjoy the pics!! please send your love to all the wonderful people who made this possible~

(also!! i would encourage you guys to read chubs’ fanbinding commissions statement, just in case you have any questions, or reach out to them if you want to scream about their amazing work or have questions~)

chubs’ post can be found here!!

[wooperdotexe]

Looking into Dazai and Chuuya’s frenemy dynamic-

TW: Suicide mentions/Suicide ideation (packaged deal if Dazai is involved)

Disclaimer: LOTS OF SPOILERS! Spoilers from season 5, 15 arc, and mentions from dead apple. If you’re hoping to find an essay on the soukoku ship, this unfortunately isn’t one because I’ll be taking everything characters say at face value. Also I’m only using information from the anime because unfortunately I haven’t read the written material like further into the manga or the light novels yet. This is just my thoughts and theories so far to address the question, “why can’t Dazai and Chuuya get along?”

Would I say they hate each other? To a degree I would say they definitely dislike one another, but I don’t see either of them wishing calamity upon calamity in the other. Maybe they’ll say it but they won’t mean it. Yet at the same time it’s confirmed in the span of 7 years they still couldn’t enjoy one another’s company. It’s even hard to say if Dazai ever considered Chuuya a friend when in comparison Oda had the most impact on him, and Dazai is even seen to be missing Kunikida’s company. Even after Ango’s betrayal, Dazai is more civil with him than with Chuuya. Then in WAN, Dazai is seen to be reminiscing about his friendship with Oda and Ango fondly, but not Chuuya (or at least from what I’ve seen?).

But I do think they hold some level of respect and appreciation for the other. Atsushi had shown that there needs to be a level of trust in order for double black to be effective as a duo partnership in battle. And when Dazai and Chuuya work together they’re like a well oiled machine. I like to think they both know the other’s capabilities at it’s fullest, making them someone reliable if they’re backed into a corner. For Chuuya, it’s whenever he uses corruption, and Dazai can depend on Chuuya when he has to go up against bigger challenges. So when the other gets tossed around like a rag doll? Of course they’re shocked. They know the other is strong and capable. So if they’re getting their ass handed to them then they know this is serious. They’re each other’s “old reliable” in a sense.

And yet Dazai tells Chuuya to go eat some bullets, while in Chuuya’s first moments of screen time it’s abundantly clear he’s got a bone to pick with the detective. So what gives?

Dazai admits that even though they never could get along, there was moments they understood one another. Imma take this line and run with it-

I think the reason why they seem to understand one another so well is because their struggle is quite similar in nature. Both of them are struggling with the aspect of their humanity. Chuuya struggles through an identity crisis that had haunted him most of his life, trying to understand if he’s human or not. Meanwhile Dazai struggles to even feel human, unable to find reasons to live. Shared struggles tend to bring people together, it’s the reason why group therapy is so effective since it shows people they’re not alone. The problem is that they handle their struggles so differently that it triggers the other.

Dazai is DEPRESSED DEPRESSED. He’s working with a very limited and handicapped source of energy and motivation. Honestly the fact that he’s such a genius is what probably keeps him afloat, otherwise I can’t see him being able to do anything without having a breakdown. He’s doing his best with what he got, sugar coating his suicidal tendencies by “avoiding pain” and “waiting for a beautiful woman to die with.” Otherwise he could easily end it all with a single bullet, yet he hasn’t. Meanwhile Chuuya has always been the type to run into conflicts head first, both literally and figuratively. Dazai must see him as a “try hard,” and gets irritated with how Chuuya is basically running circles with energy left to burn. It’s like a slap to Dazai’s face, like his best isn’t enough. Especially when Chuuya hurls insults at him about his coping mechanisms. Sure it isn’t the best, but like I said, Dazai works with what he has.

Then there’s Chuuya’s perspective, who’s probably frustrated with Dazai’s suicidal tendencies. Dazai is basically his opposite in the exact same struggle, so it could be insulting to Chuuya whenever he sees Dazai ready to roll over and die. Chuuya had always been a fighter, climbing and struggling to keep going. Yet despite all his efforts he always seems to place second after Dazai. Dazai was an executive first, Mori wants Dazai to come back to Port Mafia, and even in confronting Rimbaud, Dazai did it first. Dazai could EASILY run circles around Chuuya, but he doesn’t, which is insulting to Chuuya’s efforts like he isn’t being taken seriously.

I think it just overall boils down to a difference in values and priorities. Even in WAN they make fun of each other’s shopping choices. While Dazai fawns over discounted bandages, Chuuya doesn’t see the point if you can just avoid getting injured in the first place. Chuuya enjoys fine expensive wine, but Dazai just shrugs and says the cheap stuff gets the job done fine.

While Dazai intends to work with what he’s got, Chuuya wants to work for something better. And the clashing of mindsets has the two at each other’s throats.

Of course there’s also the fact Dazai left Port Mafia. And I don’t know about you guys, but personally I’d be pissed if the guy who manipulated and cornered me into joining a crime organization suddenly had the audacity to leave. And while it’s never specified if Chuuya ever learned the reason why Dazai left, I don’t think he’d be happy to hear it either. Sure, Chuuya will sympathize with the loss of a friend, but if Oda’s last wish really made such an impact on Dazai, that basically means their double black partnership doesn’t hold a candle to that friendship. Dazai had essentially chosen Oda over Chuuya. That must sting even just a bit. This is someone you trust with your life, who you fought back to back with, but they still choose someone else. That’s like if your best friend has a different best friend that isn’t you. So I think this extra bit of analysis should hopefully explain why Chuuya looses his temper quicker than Dazai whenever the detective is around.

Anyway these are just my thoughts and theories, of course it can always change if I learn more of the source material such as the manga and light novels. I by no means push that this has got to be canon or anything like that 👍

[chanshoesunite]

can i request reader & their boss (chan) hooking up or having a secret friends with benefits relationship & reader invites him to a family get together & introduces him as a friend/ their boss & chan is a little shocked because he thought they were both exclusive so he gets slightly upset & they both fuck in the bathroom 🫣

24 Days of CHRISMAS: Day 21

Content info: See the prompt above

Word count: 3886

Warnings: raw sex (YN has an IUD and they’re clean, but kids, wrap it up, please, Auntie Hare doesn’t need more nieces and nephews), dirty talk, stupid siblings (but who doesn’t have those? Well, only children, that’s who, I guess), oral sex (f and m receiving), semi public sex? (it's in the upstairs bathroom idk how squeamish you are about that sort of thing)

Apparently, Chan thinks you’re his girlfriend, and that’s why you decide he should fuck you in your parents’ upstairs bathroom before dessert.

But from the beginning.

You and Chan have been sleeping together for months. You know it’s not actually professional to fuck your co-workers (thanks, TikTok), but since your CEO JYP regularly insists that there is “no real hierarchy” in the company, you sort of took the opportunity at the summer party to expand your only half-serious ongoing flirtation with your hot Australian team leader to making out in his car afterwards and sleeping with him the next day when he came round to cook you some hangover stew.

This has been your ongoing spiel for the past months – you cook, you watch Netflix shows, you fuck. Nobody at work knows, and you’d like to keep it that way – not because you’re embarrassed. Chan is a fantastic catch, likely way too good for you, and you enjoy spending time together a lot. It’s just that neither of you has ever brought this up so… Why ruin a good thing by putting a label on it?

You are at work when your phone rings and it’s your mum. Chan’s in the room, talking about some proposal with another team member, but you have a fairly relaxed phone policy, and it could be an emergency, so you pick up.

“Mum? Everything okay?”

Chan glances up and gives you a questioning look. You shrug, turning your back on your handsome fuckbuddy.

“Hi, sweetie, yes, only a minor inconvenience but I hope you can help. You know how we’re planning a dinner and crime night for your father’s birthday tomorrow night?”

You do, it was kind of your idea, plus you ordered the game and distributed the role cards, but now is not the moment to be petty, so you merely roll your eyes. “Yeah?”

Your mum sighs. “Well, as you know, we were originally going to be seven people with your brother and sister and their girlfriends, but now Lilian and Steph both caught a stomach bug and there is just no way they’ll be up for eating a three-course meal tomorrow. Now, we are down to five players, and we need at least six, otherwise we can’t go through with the game. Can you bring someone, sweetie? Nobody expects you to find a real date or anything,” her laugh is decidedly not charming, “but maybe one of your friends? Please.”

You think for a second. You are really looking forward to the 20s themed crime dinner, having carefully curated a perfect flapper girl outfit with one of those frilly short dresses. Also, your dad loves this nerdy nonsense, and you can’t let him down. Even though it will be likely less fun without your sister and her girlfriend. “I’ll bring a date,” I promise. “We’ll absolutely be able to play.”

Your mother squeals with joy and you know you’ve made the right decision. “I knew I could count on you! Thanks, sweetie! See you tomorrow at 7!” And she’s gone.

“You’ll bring a date?” You turn to find Chan, curiosity still evident on his face.

You flop back into your chair. “Yeah, to dad’s birthday dinner tomorrow. We are doing this crime dinner game thing, and you need at least six people, and currently we are one player short.”

Chan raises his eyebrows at you. “And are you going to ask me?”

You choke on air. “You? You want to come to my dad’s dinner and crime party with me?”

Your boss frowns. “Yeah? Why not? It sounds fun. Would I have to dress up?”

“As a 20s Chicago mobster, yeah.” Actually, the idea isn’t half bad. Chan is lovely, polite, fun, a great conversationalist. Sure, your mum will ask you about him at every opportunity for the next two years, but… You realise you would love to have Chan there, especially since your brother’s new girlfriend is always making you feel somewhat lesser-than.

Chan grins. “A chance to wear a bowtie and braces, fantastic!” He seems honestly delighted at the idea. How endearing. You tentatively smile too.

“And you wouldn’t be weirded out that it’s my family dinner?”

He shakes his head. “Why would I be? I’d love to meet them.” That makes you a little suspicious, because why would he want to meet your family, but whatever, it’s his call. And you really do need a sixth person, the more enthusiastic, the better.

“It’s tomorrow at seven,” you say, resigning yourself to the fate of spending a night watching your boss/fuckbuddy charm your mother.

Chan nods. “I’ll pick you up… When? How far is the drive?”

“About twenty minutes.”

“6:40 then. Perfect.” His smile is still weirding you out a little, since that sounds like rather unspectacular plans for a Saturday night in your twenties, but he made his choice and you can’t walk around second-guessing whether everyone’s decisions were only made to humour you, your therapist says.

So… you just go with it. “Great, thanks for saving the dinner, Chan.”

He briefly touches your face over the desk so that nobody sees. “My pleasure, baby girl.” And with a wink, he goes back to his work proposal.

…

At exactly 6:40 the next night, the doorbell rings, and you quickly dash to the door to buzz Chan up as you fix a pearl earring to your ear. A moment later, there is a quiet knock on the door, and you open to –

You gasp.

Chan looks absolutely stunning in his bowtie, braces and flat cap combined with a white shirt, dark grey trousers and fancy dress shoes. Many women might not have cared for this look, but you are a sucker for vintage fashion, and this is exactly the way you want Chan to look as he walks you down the aisle.

Wait. That’s not what you want. Chan is just a casual thing. A fuckbuddy, really. Right?

You only now notice how wide-eyed he is. “Oh wow,” he says softly. “You look beautiful, YNnie!”

You blush and quickly turn to look at yourself in the mirror. You are wearing a black and silver flapper dress combined with elbow-high black gloves; your hair is pinned in a faux-bop and held back by a sparkly headband, your makeup is heavy on the eyeliner and a deep red lipstick completes the outfit. It’s a good look, you must admit, and Chan, who mostly sees you in your corporate outfits or his own hoodies, seems absolutely taken with it. “Thanks,” you say shyly, distracting yourself by slipping into a pair of Mary Janes and grabbing your dark red coat. “I’m ready to go!”

Chan nods, but takes a step towards you, crossing the threshold and crowding you against the wall. “I assume,” he growls,” I shouldn’t kiss you with that lipstick on?”

You refrain from biting your lip because of the aforementioned lipstick. “It would be better, I guess.”

He presses a kiss to your throat, then, and your knees buckle slightly. “I will have to be patient until we come back, then,” he muses, letting you know that you’ll be up very late tonight. You have the audacity to grin. “I’ll make it worth your while. You are hella sexy in that outfit, Channie.”

Chan closes his eyes for a second. “You’ll be the death of me, YNnie, red lipstick or not.”

You both step out of the flat and you lock up. “Should I start wearing it round work?”

“If you want to get fucked in the staff kitchen after hours, I’d recommend it.”

You giggle. “Ew, boss, that’s not sanitary!”

Even though you were afraid it’d be awkward – you and Chan never go anywhere, you just visit each other to fuck and hang out – the banter carries you downstairs and into his car, where his playlist sparks a discussion about music. Chan knows of your musical tastes, and so you discuss the artists and sing along. It feels so domestic, like it always does with Chan, like you don’t have to worry about saying or doing the wrong thing. In moments like this, it’s easy to forget he’s not really your boyfriend, he’s only your – it doesn’t matter. It is what it is. You will enjoy what you have with him and not ask for more.

Chan parks in front of your parents’ house, where your brother’s car already takes up the majority of the space. “My brother’s a bit of a dick,” you explain, “and his girlfriend thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread. So yeah.” You touch his hand on the gear shift. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s important to have someone around to roll your eyes at.”

Chan smiles at you softly. “I’ll always be there to roll your eyes at me if you need me to.”

You snort. “That’s oddly sweet,” you say. “Right. Let’s go inside?”

Chan grabs a gift bag from the back seat. “You said your dad likes white wine, right? I got him two different ones, because I wasn’t sure whether to go for dry or sweet.”

You blink at your date. “Why are you so great? How do you even remember me saying that? I know I don’t!”

He shakes his head, smiling to himself. “Let’s go in!”

…

“Sweetie, there you are!” Your mum leans in to kiss your cheeks before moving on to Chan, and her eyes go wide. “And you must be Chan,” she says, planting the obligatory cheek kisses on his face, too. “We’ve heard so much about YN’s work friend!”

You turn to see Chan look confused for a second, but then the thousand-watt smile is back on his face as he produces a box of chocolates for your mother seemingly out of thin air. “Thank you so much for the invitation, Mrs. YLN,” he says sweetly, and your mother melts. Relaxed, you kiss your dad and congratulate him before giving your brother and his girlfriend loose hugs. Chan’s and yours are definitely the best outfits, even though your dad has grown a moustache for the occasion, so brownie points for that.

“Oh Chan, that wasn’t necessary,” you mother is currently cooing at him before pushing him towards your dad. “Darling, this is Chan, YN’s team leader, who was so nice to help us out tonight.”

“You brought your boss to our dinner?” your brother whispers at you. “Tell me you’re single without telling me you’re single.”

You smile at him sweetly before turning and stepping on his toes on purpose. His harsh intake of breath is immensely satisfying to you; some things never change, whether you’re six or twenty-six.

Your dad and Chan shake hands, and Chan hands over the wines, and fifteen seconds later, your dad has a hand on his shoulder and launches into a talk on the merits of different wines, all the while leading Chan into the dining room. Your lover throws back a slightly panicked glance at you, but you simply give him two thumbs up and follow them.

You and Chan are seated next to each other opposite your brother and his girlfriend. “Nice dress, YN,” she comments, sneering just a little bit. “Even though in the 1920s, it wasn’t really en vogue to be curvy, was it.” You want to throw your Singapore Sling into her face, but Chan just puts his arm around the back of your chair and looks at you. “You look perfect, YNnie, and I’m sure all of the former flappers would agree. Because,” he adds with a little side glance at your mean sister-in-law, “real women build each other up, don’t they – sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

She looks gob-smacked and as if she wants to complain to your brother, but he’s on his phone, not paying attention. Chan looks back at you and winks while you smile gratefully and squeeze his thigh beneath the table.

…

The next one and a half hours pass in a whirl of bad acting and great food. The scenes are played between the courses, and evidence appears in each of them, making the narrative more interesting. Chan is clearly also not a born actor, but it’s funny to see him and your dad fight about who killed the heir to the mafia empire, and even your wet dishcloth of a brother makes a valiant effort, threatening to duel your mum, which has all of you crying with laughter. Both the salad with slices of steak and the roasted venison are delicious, as are the vegetarian alternatives you get, and you’re more than happy with the progression of the night so far, feeling grounded with Chan next to you, and less inclined to shout at your brother and thus ruin the dinner.

Chan belongs here, you realise. There could be plenty of these nights, spending time joking with your family, if only this was real...

There is a lull in the game before dessert because your mother wanted to bake your dad’s favourite ice cream cake and it needs to be done directly before being served, so you have sort of a break.

“So, Chan,” your brother asks, leaning forward, smirking at him. You can’t tell if he dislikes your date or if he’s just constantly cynical these days. “Do you accompany all of your employees to family functions, or is our YN one of your favourites?”

Chan puts his elbows on the table. “I think it’s safe to say that YNnie and I are more than friends.”

Your brother’s grin is sleezy. “Does HR know about that?”

You whip your head to look at Chan. “Channie, can we talk for a second? Upstairs?”

Chan stares at you hard, but nods, and you grab his hand and pull him out of the room, your brother’s chuckle following you. Your mum tries to intercept in the hallway, but you wave her off. “Chan wants to see where I grew up,” you say hurriedly, and your mum’s happy reply doesn’t quite reach your ears because you are panicking.

It was a bad idea to bring Chan – you should have known what it would suggest, and you should have talked to Chan about it beforehand, but –

But you were scared.

Then you are upstairs and you are contemplating where to take him before settling on your little en suite bathroom so there will be at least two closed doors between you and your nosy family.

Inside your bathroom, you turn to face him. “Chan, I –“

Chan interrupts you. “Did you really tell them I was only your co-worker, YNnie?” He seems less mad and more upset at the idea, leaning against the door, his arms crossed, his eyes focused on the floor.

“Chan.” You step closer and gingerly put a hand on his elbow. He doesn’t look up, but he also doesn’t shake you off. You take that as encouragement. “The truth is, I didn’t know what to tell them. It’s not like we’re dating, is it?”

Silence stretches between you, and he finally looks up. He is confused. “We are… Not dating?”

You are baffled. “You think we’re dating?”

He looks shocked. “Wait, what? Are you seeing someone else?”

Now you’re just confused. “What? Why would I see someone else? Have you met yourself? It’s like anyone –“ You take a deep breath. “Chan, there’s no one like you,” you add quietly, and it feels like a confession.

He shakes his head. “So then why do you think we’re not dating?” He is clearly exasperated.

You throw your hands up, helpless. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because we never actually talked about it? Maybe because we never actually go on dates? We only fuck and watch TV, Chan, you call that dating? I am basically your dirty little secret!” You look down so he won’t see the tears swimming in your eyes, because you get it, Chan looks like a fucking movie star and he is the kindest person you’ve ever met and he could be dating anyone so why would he choose his team member and –

His hand gingerly touches your face, and you look up. Chan’s dark eyes are shining with emotions. “I am such an idiot,” he breathes. “Please tell me you haven’t spent the past few months thinking I don’t actually want to be with you.” When you say nothing, a pained gasp escapes him. “YNnie, baby, I am so sorry. I am such a homebody that I’ve never stopped to consider you might feel uncomfortable not going on dates with me. In my head, we’ve been dating since the day after our summer party, so our anniversary is the 28th of June.” You release a quiet sob. Chan shakes his head again. “I’m so incredibly stupid. Tell me how to make it up to you.” He strokes both your cheeks softly, wiping away the few stray tears that cling to your eyelashes. “Tell me what I can do.”

You hiccup slightly. “I have a few really lame dating ideas?”

He smiles gently. “I’ll happily take you on each and every one of those dates and I’ll absolutely love them, because I’ll be spending them with you, baby girl.”

That nickname stirs something inside your belly. Chan and you are locked in your childhood bathroom, and you still have at least fifteen minutes until dessert. And just like that, you're back from sappy to sexy.

“You’re not upset with me, Chan? You know that I am head over heels for you and that you are the best man I’ve ever been with, right?” You step closer to him and let a hand slide down his chest, lower, towards his clothed cock.

Chan looks surprised for a second, then an evil expression takes over his features. “Oh, baby girl,” he rasps. “I would be much more assured of your affection if you’d ruin that pretty lipstick blowing me right now.”

That’s the invitation you’ve been waiting for. You don’t hesitate and just go straight for his belt, undoing his trousers, taking a moment to slide down his braces and finally pulling his cock out. Then, you sink to your knees and just go for it, licking the tip messily as if it were your favourite lollipop before engulfing as much as you can into your mouth and bobbing your head up and down. Chan’s hand carefully finds the top of your head without ruining your hairstyle, and this softness makes you even more horny, as do the quiet little gasps he tries to bite back.

You pull off with a pop that could be considered pornographic and look up to meet Chan’s blown pupils. “Lock the door, baby boy,” you purr, “I want you to fuck me against it.”

Not a second later, you can feel yourself being pulled up as Chan locks the door and pushes you against it. Your legs wrap around him as he lifts you up, and you won’t ever forget the moment he realises that you are wearing thigh-high stockings, because he looks like Christmas came early. He tugs your thong to the side, all the while holding you up with only one hand, and moans as he finds how wet you already are.

“Please tell me I can fuck you raw,” he begs. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I have an IUD,” you confirm, “and apparently, you’ve been thinking of me as your girlfriend for months, so I guess you’re clean?”

He nods, desperation obvious on his face, turning into wonder as you nod your consent. He sinks into you, and you both gasp at the way he stretches you out; it’s been a few days – not that his size isn’t always a surprise.

You stay like that for a few seconds, gasping and looking at each other. “That outfit is so hot,” you say, staring at the way his white shirt stretches across his heaving chest.

He shakes his head, bemused. “Silly girl,” he chides. “When you’re the absolute vision that you are, who would notice me?”

“I would,” you say. “I always notice you, Channie.”

His eyes are full of tenderness and lust, but lust wins over as he pushes into you more firmly, and you gasp. “You need to keep it down, YNnie, or your whole family will know what a little slut you are,” he coos into your ear.

You gasp again. “Kiss me, then, so they’ll see as well.”

He jumps at the opportunity, kissing you deeply, all the while thrusting into you again and again, and there are entirely too many clothes between you, these awesome but ridiculous costumes, when all you want is a naked Chan above you. But you’re moving together, ravenous, passionate, but filled with a tenderness, knowing that this is the real thing, that you really do like each other like that, that you are boyfriend and girlfriend for real.

Chan’s strength does seem to have limits, because suddenly, he puts you down, only to bend you over the sink and push into you from behind. Facing yourself in the mirror, you can see that you’re both slightly sweaty, your hair isn’t as carefully styled anymore and your lipstick has made it onto Chan’s mouth. You look debauched, dishevelled in the most delicious way, and it seems to egg Chan on even more, because he fucks you forcefully, picking up the pace while staring at you in the mirror.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growls, kissing your throat, leaving faint traces of colour there as well. “I’ll take you out every night so everyone will know how much I love you. And then every night, I will fuck you well so you won’t forget, either.”

You gasp. “I love you too, Channie,” you whisper, and then he’s coming inside you, stilling his movements as he bites your shoulder lightly.

For a moment, all you hear are your laboured breaths. Then: “Did I really just tell you I love you for the first time while fucking you in your parents’ bathroom?”

You giggle as he pulls out and you turn to face him. “You did. Like the absolute dork that you are.”

Chan shakes his head. “How embarrassing. But that doesn’t make it any less true.” He pulls you close for a sweet kiss, and you feel his heartbeat slowing down a bit under you hand.

Then he kneels before you. “Let me clean you up,” he says, a diabolical grin on his face. And then he starts licking into you, collecting his own come and then stimulating you clit, sucking it into his mouth until you come, biting your arm so you won’t scream.

…

Ten minutes later, you make it down to dessert. Your whole family glances up at you, and you can see on their faces what they’re seeing – a young couple who has obviously just fucked upstairs.

“Mum, Dad,” you say, grabbing Chan’s hand. “I think there was a misunderstanding earlier. Chan is not my colleague – he’s my boyfriend. Why would I bring a colleague to a family dinner?” You laugh artificially.

Everyone is staring at you, but in Chan’s case, it’s adoringly.

You take a seat. “Cake, me love?”

He grins, ignoring the weirdness and proving once again why he is the ideal partner in crime. “I’d love some.”

~Day 22~