#our precious toast

[lavendertalks311]

Just a little something for husbands birthday, I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Fluff because I love husband Nanami. Female reader. Pregnant reader. Wife reader. Married reader. Not proofread whoopsies. Nanami x female reader.

———————————————————————————-

Being kento’s pregnant wife meant many things, including a private life. Not in a secretive manner, he just preferred to keep his life private and away from people’s noses. The less they knew about his loving and precious love, the better for both of you.

He’s attentive and devoted. When Kento is devoted to something, he is devoted. Every morning before work, he left a note either on the bedside table next to you, or in the kitchen counter with a heart, along with his pristine handwriting. He would leave a message letting you know he made breakfast or he’d write something cute for you.

‘I made breakfast for you and our little one. See you after work, darling.”

“My love, I already cannot wait for your embrace after work. See you then, much love.”

After the bustling hours of jujutsu, he’d make his way to a bakery near home to get your favorites. He never once complained or protested, bringing you happiness brought him happiness.

When you were watching tv with your light pink sundress, you heard the front door unlock, revealing the eyes of your ever so loving husband with his usual bag from the bakery in hand.

“Ken!” You called out, immediately rising the best you can to quickly waddle to your lover. When you reached to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your height as you kissed him gently. “Welcome home!”

He softly smiled, bringing his hands to your growing and swollen belly, softly feeling around it for any kicks as he looked over your form.

“Hello my darlings,” he placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the living room. “Come, love. Can’t have you walking with no socks or slippers now, hmm?”

He gently sat you down before placing your slippers on your feet and looked up at you. “Ken! The French toast this morning was amazing, baby and I loved it.”

“I’m glad, I’ll be sure to add that to our list of favorites, hmm?” He asked, grabbing hold of your hands and kissing them softly.

He’s so gentle with you, so loving, he never lets you do anything that’s too much for you to handle. Even going as far as helping you put your slippers on so you didn’t have to bend over to reach for them.

He’s a gentleman, making the bed extra comfortable for you and your little one before bed and leaving extra blankets and a glass of water on the bedtime table if needed overnight. Of course, every time you needed something, he did it without hesitation.

Like I said, when Kento is devoted, he is devoted.

———————————————————————————-

Super short but it’s something and I think it’s so cute.

[brunchable]

THIS, is your boyfriend, Mom? [4]

Pairings: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Our savage wittle boi Lucas x f!Reader.

Summary: The family went on a camping trip with Lucas' cousins. Warning: Lucas fell into a river but is unharmed.

A/N: I will just keep posting Step-Dad Bucky content, this doesn't really have set plot, just cute and funny moments while Bucky navigates how to be a Dad. ALSO, note I am still trying to fix the tag list for this.

The stars had just begun to shine as you, Bucky, Lucas, and a few of his cousins sat around the campfire, laughter filling the air as the kids toasted marshmallows and dared each other to make the strangest marshmallow combinations.

After a while, Lucas and his cousin wandered over to you, their faces lit with excitement. “Mom, can we go skip rocks by the river?” Lucas asked.

You nodded, giving them a warm but serious smile. “Alright, but don’t go too close to the water. Stay safe.”

They nodded, promising to be careful, and you watched as they bounded off toward the riverbank, their giggles mixing with the sound of the flowing water. Bucky was sitting next to you, his gaze steady on the kids as they skipped stones, trying to beat each other’s number of skips.

Everything seemed peaceful.

But after a few minutes, you overheard Lucas’s cousin daring him. “Bet you can’t skip one from way up close,” his cousin said, pointing to a spot near the edge of the water, where the bank was muddy and slippery.

Lucas hesitated, glancing back at you and Bucky, then shrugged, puffing his chest out a little. “It’s not even that deep. I’ll be fine.”

In that split second, he took a bold step closer, right to the edge, and threw his rock. But as he shifted his weight forward, the muddy bank gave way, and he slipped, his arms flailing as he tried to keep his balance—only to tumble forward into the icy water.

“Mom! Help!” Lucas screamed, panic overtaking his voice as the river’s current tried to pull him in.

His cousin tried to reach him, stretching out his arm, but the water was too strong, and Lucas was quickly losing his footing.

In that moment, Lucas looked up, his breath catching as he saw a figure racing toward him with unwavering speed and determination. Recognizing Bucky’s shape, he reached out instinctively, the word spilling out in sheer desperation.

“Dad!”

Before you could take a step, Bucky had already shot up, sprinting to the river with a look of pure terror etched across his face. Reaching the boys in seconds, he gently but firmly shoved Lucas’s cousin back toward you, his voice low and firm. “Get to your mom. Now.”

“Lucas!” you screamed, your heart pounding.

Without a second thought, Bucky stepped into the river, his boots sinking into the cold, swirling water as it tugged insistently at his legs, urging him to stay back. But he moved forward, steady and sure, his eyes fixed on Lucas as if the world held nothing else. The river pressed against him, but he barely noticed, reaching Lucas in a few strides, wrapping a solid arm under the boy’s shoulders, and lifting him up with a fierce certainty. Holding Lucas close, Bucky turned and waded back to shore, his grip firm, his gaze steady, as if he were carrying something infinitely precious.

As soon as they were safely on dry ground, Bucky knelt down, gripping Lucas’s shoulders tightly, his jaw clenched, his eyes blazing with anger and fear.

“What were you thinking, Lucas?” he snapped, his voice sharp and unwavering. “Didn’t your mother tell you not to go near the edge? Do you understand what could have happened if you’d fallen in deeper?”

Lucas glanced up at Bucky, then looked over at you. The sight of you standing there, tears streaming down your face, struck him like a punch to the chest. His mother, the person he always wanted to keep happy and safe, was crying because of him.

Lucas looked down, his face pale, but tried to stammer out a response. “I-I… I didn’t think it’d be that slippery…”

Bucky’s hands tightened on his shoulders, and his voice grew louder, thick with emotion. “Exactly. You didn’t think! What if the current had pulled you in? What if you’d been swept away before I got there? What if… what if you had gotten hurt or worse?” Bucky’s voice wavered, but his tone stayed stern. “This isn’t a game, boy. You could’ve been lost to that river in an instant.”

Lucas’s cousin, standing nearby, shifted nervously, his face turning pale as he realized the seriousness of the situation. Bucky’s sharp gaze flicked toward him, his tone still unrelenting.

“And you,” he said, his voice just as firm as before. “Why would you dare him to go closer? Do you understand how dangerous that was?”

Lucas’s cousin looked down, guilt spreading across his face as he mumbled, “I’m sorry, Bucky… I didn’t think anything bad would happen. I just… thought it’d be fun.”

Bucky’s expression didn’t soften as he spoke, his tone filled with disappointment. 

“Fun? What if he’d fallen in and the current was too strong? What if I hadn’t been here in time? You don’t push someone to take a risk like that, especially near the water. You’re supposed to look out for each other, not encourage recklessness.”

The weight of Bucky’s words began to settle over both boys like a heavy blanket. The “what ifs” replayed in their minds, each one sinking deeper, and they both suddenly felt small and helpless under Bucky’s fierce gaze.

Lucas’s voice shook as he whispered, “I… I’m sorry, Bucky. I didn’t mean to make you and Mom worry. I just wanted to see if I could do it…”

“Wanting to prove yourself doesn’t matter if you’re putting yourself in danger. Bravery doesn’t mean being reckless, Lucas. Do you understand that?” Bucky’s stern expression didn’t waver as he looked down at Lucas, still gripped by the terror of almost losing him.

Lucas’s shoulders slumped as the weight of his mistake settled over him like an unwelcome shadow. Tears spilled down his cheeks, and his voice broke in a whisper, “I’m really, really sorry, Bucky. I didn’t mean for it to be this bad… I just didn’t think.”

Bucky’s expression shifted, his face softening as he caught the guilt in Lucas’s tear-filled eyes. He let out a quiet, unsteady breath, the last of his anger dissolving like smoke. He pulled the boy into a fierce hug, an instinct older than words, holding him close as if, in that one embrace, he could keep the world and all its dangers at bay.

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” Lucas’s voice was muffled against Bucky’s chest, his small hands gripping Bucky’s shirt like it was his only tether to safety.

Bucky’s arms tightened around him, one hand moving up to cradle the back of Lucas’s head. “I know, kid. I know you didn’t mean it.” His voice was soft but steady, filled with something deeper than mere forgiveness.

He stroked Lucas’s back in slow, reassuring circles, feeling each shaky breath. “You scared me, you know? Really scared me.” The words were simple but carried a weight only Lucas could feel, pressing gently on his small shoulders.

Then, Bucky pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, brushing a tear from Lucas’s cheek with his thumb. “Listen. You don’t need to prove anything. You’re already enough, just as you are. And I need you here with me. Promise me you’ll remember that.”

Lucas nodded, a fierce, wide-eyed sincerity in his gaze. “I promise.”

Bucky’s lips curled into a small, warm smile, and he ruffled Lucas’s hair gently, his voice barely above a whisper. “Good. That’s my boy.”

There was a pause, a quiet weight to the moment. Then, Bucky gave Lucas’s shoulder a soft squeeze, his tone light but carrying an unmistakable note of resolve. 

“Now,” he murmured, a hint of mischief flickering in his eyes, “go apologize to your mom and get yourself cleaned up. You’ve given her enough to worry about for one day.”

× × × ×

The campfire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the clearing as the night deepened. The kids were finally asleep in their own tent, their quiet breaths rising and falling in a rhythm of exhaustion and dreams. You stayed by the fire, arms wrapped around yourself, lost in thought as you watched the flames dance.

Bucky came up behind you, draping a blanket over your shoulders and pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. You smiled up at him, warmth spreading through you beyond the blanket.

“Thank you,” you murmured, reaching for his hand. “For what you did for Lucas today.”

Bucky shook his head, brushing it off. “It’s nothing,” he said softly, settling down beside you. But as he looked into the fire, a quiet chuckle escaped him, his eyes crinkling with a mix of disbelief and something almost… tender.

You turned to him, curiosity in your gaze. “What are you thinking about?”

He glanced at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his eyes still reflecting the firelight. “He called me ‘Dad,’” he said, voice soft with wonder.

You nodded, your own smile widening. “He did.”

Bucky’s eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as he leaned back. “Think that’s going to cost me the dad fee?”

You laughed, a warm sound that felt like it belonged to the night. Bucky grinned, clearly pleased to lighten the mood, and his hand found yours as the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the fire crackling as the stars watched over.

After a moment, Bucky’s gaze softened, and he leaned in, closing the space between you with a look of pure adoration. His hand cradled your face as his lips brushed against yours, warm and lingering.

Just as you melted into the kiss, a small voice pierced the quiet.

“Oh, wow. Seriously? Now?”

You and Bucky broke apart to find Lucas standing outside his tent, hands on his hips and an exaggerated look of exasperation on his face. “Guys, it’s, like, bedtime. Some of us are trying to sleep here without… that in our minds.”

You stifled a laugh, and Bucky sighed, glancing at the sky as if asking for patience. “What do you need, kid?”

Lucas rolled his eyes dramatically. “Well, I was going to the bathroom, but now I’m scarred for life. So thanks for that,” he added with a smirk, gesturing toward the trees. “I’ll be back—try to keep it PG, alright?”

With that, he turned and shuffled off, muttering loud enough for you to hear, “Can’t believe I had to see that.”

When he was out of earshot, Bucky shook his head, chuckling softly. “That kid…”

You bit back a grin, leaning into him with a sigh. “So, where were we?”

Bucky pulled you close, a smirk on his lips. “Somewhere between dad fees and permanent interruptions, I think.”

× × × × 

Back home a few days later.

It was a quiet evening, and Bucky had been waiting for the right moment, nerves humming beneath his calm exterior. Lucas was sprawled out on the living room floor, building a small LEGO fortress, completely focused. Bucky took a deep breath, gathering himself, and then sat down next to Lucas, watching him for a moment before speaking.

“Hey, bud,” Bucky said softly, ruffling Lucas’s hair.

Lucas looked up, his face lighting up. “Hey, Bucky! Want to help me with the fortress? It’s almost done.”

Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe in a sec, kiddo. I actually wanted to talk to you about something… something important.”

“Okay… what’s up?” Lucas tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

Bucky took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement.

“So… I’ve been thinking about your mom,” he began, his voice gentle. “She means everything to me, Lucas. You know that, right?”

Lucas nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. “Yeah, I know. She loves you, too.”

Bucky swallowed, his heart pounding a little harder as he reached out, resting a hand on Lucas’s shoulder. “Well, I was wondering… how would you feel if I asked her to marry me?”

Lucas’s eyes went wide, his mouth falling open in surprise. He looked down, taking it in, before glancing back up at Bucky with a raised eyebrow.

“You mean… you’d be my dad?” he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of sass. “Like, officially? You’re not just trying to get a tax break or something, right?”

Bucky laughed, the tension easing out of him a bit. “No, not for a tax break, kid. I genuinely want to be there for you and your mom. I want us to be a family.”

Lucas stared at him for a long moment, his face scrunched up in thought. Then, with a small, knowing smirk, he said, “So… you’re asking me for permission? Wow, you must really like us.”

Bucky chuckled, ruffling Lucas’s hair again. 

“Yeah, I am. It’s important to me that you’re okay with this. You’re the most important person in her life, and if we’re gonna be a family… I want you to know that you’re part of this decision.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, like he’d just been struck by the weight of Lucas’s words. For a moment, he could only stare, his heart swelling with an unexpected, overwhelming sense of joy. He felt a lump form in his throat, and before he could say anything, he pulled Lucas into a tight hug, holding him close.

Lucas’s face softened, and after a brief pause, he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck in a tight hug. 

"You don't have to ask," Lucas whispered, his sass melting to something sincere, "I already know you're my dad."

As he closed his eyes, a tear slipped down his cheek, but he didn’t care. “Thank you, Lucky,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “That means more than you know.”

When they finally pulled back, Lucas wiped his eyes, his grin returning with a mischievous edge. “But… you still have to do it right. Like, you know, get down on one knee and everything. And maybe a big sign that says, ‘Will you marry me?’ in case you mess up your words.”

Bucky laughed, nodding. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m going all out. Your mom deserves the best.”

Lucas nodded, looking proud. “Good. She does. And you better not make her cry… unless they’re the good kind of tears. Otherwise, I’ll have to come after you.”

Bucky chuckled. “Only happy tears, kiddo. I promise.”

Lucas gave him a firm nod, his eyes sparkling. “Good then it’s settled. Now, are you going to help me finish this fortress, or are you too busy planning your big proposal?”

Bucky grinned, feeling the last of his nerves slip away as he settled beside Lucas, picking up a LEGO piece. 

“Alright, kiddo, let’s finish this fortress. Gotta make sure it’s strong enough to withstand all the big plans I’m about to set in motion.”

Lucas gave a mock-serious nod. “Good idea. Wouldn’t want you bailing on me halfway through.”

Bucky chuckled, nudging him gently. “Hey, I’m in this for the long haul. Fortress-building included.”

They both settled back down to work, side by side, focused on finishing the fortress together, each piece clicking into place as easily as their bond had over time.

[graveyardcuddles]

Breakfast in Bed

A/N: just a dadstarion drabble. feeding as a love language. mdni.

word count: ~ 3000

tags/warnings: sfw, shameless fluff, soft spawn astarion, baby fic, mentions of reader being pregnant in past tense, breastfeeding, soft blood-drinking (? lol), tav reader, mom reader, soft vampire romance, hints of angst, just lots of sweetness, playing fast and loose with dnd lore about dhampirs and vampires.

You're enjoying a rare deep sleep when a small yet powerful sound jolts you into a state of semi-consciousness with alarming urgency. You can barely register your own body around you, attempting to roll and shift. Suddenly, you feel a familiar cool hand touch your shoulder. "Shhh, it's alright, love. I've got her."

Astarion. He must have sensed your panic at your daughter's cries before he even had the chance to grab her himself. You sigh in relief as he quickly moves to soothe her.

"Gods below, whatever could be making that absolutely hideous sound? Has a little gremishka gotten into our home?" He says with a heavy dose of sarcasm as he pads over to her cot.

Untangling yourself from the bedding, you open your eyes just in time to see Astarion gently lifting your tiny daughter out of her bassinet.

"Darling, waking up your mother so early?" He tuts. "And here I was hoping to make this a peaceful morning."

Despite his mock scolding, his expression betrays the softness of his eyes, wide with adoration. His lips curl upwards in a carefree way that you've never quite seen from him with anyone else. A secret smile that only she can pull from him. She scruches her little legs, and he places a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his hand covering almost her entire back. He coos to her as her cries taper out into little whines. Nestling her close to his chest, Astarion tucks her tiny head under his chin. Rocks her gently while shushing her until she goes quiet.

You watch as her tiny scrunched body relaxes as she calms in his hold. So enchanted you are by the two of them that it takes a moment for you to notice the aroma of food coming from behind you. You turn around and see a small tray on your nightstand with a bowl of porridge, two hard-boiled eggs, toast, and some blackberries.

Once again, you find yourself struck by how much he's changed in the years since the Nautaloid. He never used to cook for you before, and you never resented him for it. You couldn't expect him to be enthusiastic about cooking when he couldn't even taste what he made for you.

All of that changed after the news of your impending little one broke. He had quietly taken to practicing a few basic meals for you. They often lacked the amount of seasoning you normally preferred, but with your overly tender stomach, the bland meals ended up being a blessing on days you could barely keep things down.

As you eat your breakfast, you watch the two of them. Somehow, he's always had a remarkable talent for calming her. Something else you never imagined. You used to tease him about it frequently: "Oh sure, I go through all the hard work only for you to be the favorite, then?" He had simply smirked, barely able to contain his triumphant aura.

He's talking to her now; always talking with her about anything: one tangent will lead to another story and then another. He carries on conversation with her as he would any adult, despite the fact she can't even babble yet.

Even before she was born, he would speak to her in the womb. He knew your heartbeat would be a source of comfort for her when she was born, just as it was for him. She would recognize you from it, know you. He lacked the ability to provide that same comfort but hoped his voice would make up for his lack of heartbeat.

In truth, you were awed every day by how naturally Astarion had taken to caring for her, and how much she in turned seemed to take such comfort from him. You remembered how he refused to believe it at first. How something so small and innocent and precious could possibly come from him, an undead creature. Him, with his red eyes and fangs and cold skin. He had been so afraid of frightening her with his appearance at first. You had reassured him constantly, and he had seen his own likeness in the form of portraits over the years. But he could never be sure you weren't just placating him. Could never be sure those artists weren't simply flattering him.

The first time she opened her little eyes and peered up at him, Astarion let out a sigh of relief that her irises weren't a vampiric red. As her tiny eyes bore into his, he tried to discern what their true color was. You were half-delirious from exhaustion as you watched the two of them become acquainted. Barely thinking, you sleepily suggested to him that perhaps her eye color took after his original shade from before he was turned.

Astarion grew quiet and still for a long moment, something inside of him seemingly triggered by your words. A memory locked away long ago, lost to time. For the second time that same day, his body was hit with deep racking sobs. As he cried quietly into your shoulder, he clung to the little bundle in his arms, a part of himself thought long lost now given back to him.

He brings her to you now, settling down next to you in bed. You cuddle up next to your husband and baby. He's still too enthralled with her to pass her off to you, as he often is. He kisses her little hands and cheek. He smiles radiantly, far past his fears of scaring her. You're more than content to let him hold her as you eat.

She's calmed down now, her soft delicate features smoothed and her big bright eyes looking up at you both. Those captivating eyes are like faceted gemstones, a rare shade even amongst High Elves. Her skintone is similar to yours in color but with an unsettling washed-out, pale undertone that would be alarming on any other child who wasn't a dhampir. Branches of veins show through her semi-translucent skin. Her soft, silky miniature curls were the color of milkglass.

Your little one is deceptively fragile-looking, sickly even. It's easy to forget sometimes how powerful they could potentially be one day. Even at her tender young age of eight weeks, she's a formidable one. Eating and crying with equal fervor. Small and mighty. Just as opinionated as her father.

She wastes no time in letting you know both know she has needs that must be met. Rolling towards Astarion in his arms, she presses her tiny face into his chest. Her little mouth opens up as her face nudges around his shirt, seeking nourishment. You both giggle at her frustrated attempt.

"I think that's my cue, love." You place the tray back on the nightstand and gently take her from him to nestle her in your arms. Pulling down one strap of your nightgown, you begin feeding your babe in a peaceful ritual you had mastered weeks ago with her. Astarion settles in behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder. For a few minutes, he simply watches the two of you. When he takes note of your unfinished breakfast, he grabs a handful of blackberries from the tray and holds out for you to eat at your leisure as you cradle her.

It isn't lost on him, the way in which you were the first person to ever feed him. Truly feed and nourish his body, with the very blood from your own body nonetheless. Never in a million years did he ever think he would one day witness you feeding his child with that same body. An entirely brand new soul, somehow born of your union. Innocent, beautiful and alive. A part of Astarion was alive again, and he could hardly believe it even as he faced each new challenge head-on.

Since she was born, he would sometimes go without feeding for days at a time. Though the elk, deer and boars that populated the nearby woods provided ample prey for him, you knew he hated leaving you two behind even for a few hours of time that it typically took for him to hunt.

He was trying to hide it, but you could tell he was starving now. His face was a little more hollow than usual, eyes a bit more sunken, skin paler and colder. It was truly a testament to how much he adored your daughter that despite his sickly appearance, he still radiated with joy in her presence.

The blackberries run out. You tilt your head to look at him. "You should feed," eyes fixed on his. He blinks at you, obviously surprised at your suggestion. "Just a bit of my blood before you go hunting."

It takes more than a bit of willpower to stifle your giggle at his reaction. Astarion had never been one to hesitate accepting your blood.

"I- Darling, come now. You're sweet to offer, but we shouldn't. Not when you're already expending yourself," his arms snake around your waist, and his cool fingers knead into the softness of your belly comfortingly.

"Ha, trust me, this is nothing compared to feeding you while traveling and fighting for our lives in the wilderness," you assure him.

"Besides," you gesture at the jewelry around your neck. "That's what this is for."

The Amulet of Silvanus, which had already been more than useful to both of you during your time traveling, had come to have many more beneficial properties than you could have imagined at the time. It restored your blood levels, allowing Astarion to feed on you regularly. And even though he had abstained from feeding on your blood while you were with child, it had been found to also be useful in keeping your milk supply up, giving it a second use once your baby had arrived.

"It's alright," you insisted, eyes and voice soft. "I feel strong enough for this again, my love. Truly. And I trust you," your daughter continues to nurse peacefully, blissfully unaware of the conversation between her parents.

"At least let me take the edge off of your hunger, Astarion. I know you won't go too far. Besides," a smile forms on your face, unable to hold back your enthusiasm any longer. "You know I've missed it, too."

He stared at you for a moment before breaking into a smile that made your heart ache so much you swear it could have killed you.

"My love," he kisses you on the forehead, then on your lips, then both of your cheeks and your lips again. It's soft and reverent, gentle and loving.

"Always so good to me." He strokes your hair and kisses you some more before pulling away gently. His maroon eyes broke from your gaze and locked onto your little one.

"Are you sure about this, though?" There was a hint of hesitancy in his voice despite his previous enthusiasm. "I don't want to do anything that would hurt you around her," he whispered, conflict clear on his face. You considered his words carefully.

"Well..." You start with a hint of playfulness. "I don't know if you remember, dear husband, but this?" You gestured at your nursing infant. "Feeding her? It was painful at first. And we don't even know if she'll need blood one day. But if she does, I'll be providing it for you both." He looks guilty already, so before he could respond, you followed up. "But even so," you cup his cheek, gently forcing him to look you in the eye. "No matter what happens, she can't hurt me." His eyebrows raised, and he smirked at you with obvious skepticism.

"When we first found out about her, we vowed we would love her, no matter what. Even if her hunger drove her one day to drain innocent people dry." You gaze down on your little dhampir, your precious 'baby monster,' as she fed. "At the time, I was scared, but now... my love for her is so deep. I know nothing will ever change it. Nothing could ever possibly change it."

You look to him and see his eyes were round with wonder. "You don't have to if you're not comfortable, my heart. But just know you don't have to worry about hurting me. You could never hurt me, my love."

He sighed, looking at you with a sort of incredulous amusement that would normally be followed up with a statement about how nothing you say ever makes sense. Instead, he takes the hand that had been caressing his cheek and kisses it longingly.

"I'll never understand what I've done to deserve you, my dear," his nose runs along your inner wrist, savoring your scent.

"Hmm, besides helping me save the world? Well, making me laugh and being adorable definitely doesn't hurt."

"Our daughter is adorable. I am enigmatic and alluring, NOT adorable," he rolls his eyes dramatically.

"Hmm. Sorry love, but I'm afraid all evidence points to the contrary. Our daughter gets her looks from somewhere, and you know who she takes after." Astarion can't hold back his grin he looks down at her and strokes her silvery curls. The semblance between father and daughter was no small point of pride for him.

"Alright, my love. I know better than to argue with the mother of my child." He slips in behind both of you easily, pulling you up so your back is flushed to his chest, allowing yourself to lean back into him.

His arms come up under where both of yours are supporting your babe. He cradles the both of you protectively. "I've got you. I've got you both," he reassures. Your little girl continues to nurse peacefully, both parents holding her tight.

Astarion noses at the base of your neck and inhales deeply. Soft kisses pepper up and down your neck before his lips hold still in place, silently asking permission once more.

You tilt your head back against his shoulder in answer, giving him greater access. Taking a deep breath, you feel the familiar sting of his fangs breaking your skin. He was so gentle, sinking his teeth in fast enough so as not to make the sting linger, but also slow enough so as not to bruise the skin. His fangs work back and forth tenderly, taking great care to keep the bite bleeding while not opening the wound further.

You find yourself easily relaxing. "You're still gentler than she is most of the time," you joke.

His lips attach around the bite wound, gently latched just enough to keep them sealed around it. The flow of blood stayed slow and steady this way, trickling gently from you to him. In your arms, your little one is also feeding eagerly. For a moment, you can't help but giggle at how the sound of Astarion's suckling at your neck joins in with her own precious little eating noises. Her tiny ears wiggle adorably with each drink, and while he refuses to acknowledge it, you can feel Astarion's own ears make miniscule twitches when he feeds on you.

Sighing happily, you sink deeper in his embrace. You had truly missed being able to provide this for him. Time seems to slow down to a hazy crawl as you savor this moment. In the warmth of your bed, surrounded by your little family, you feel as though you could spend an eternity here. You wish you could. It wasn't easy to sacrifice so much. Give so much of yourself over to caring for your babe. But it was moments like this that had made your many sacrifices worth it.

Your undead love at your back and your tiny, half-undead infant in your arms. The feeling of his cool chest and her not-quite-warm-enough little form were somehow the most natural thing in the world. The steady beating of your heart sustaining the both of them. They were both supposed to be impossible, wrong, and profane to everything sacred and divine. And somehow, they were perfect. And you were lucky enough to have them both.

Though you're more than prepared to supplement your daughter's diet with blood the moment the need arises, you feel grateful in this moment that she's still satisfied with your milk. Melancholy borders on the edge of your warm and blissful feelings. Astarion has spoken often of how painful the blood hunger can be for him. You try to keep it to yourself, but guilt squeezes your heart when you think of her with those same hunger pains. Astarion has already sworn he will guide her through them, teach her to hunt on animals when she's strong enough. As you look upon your daughter, you can only hope to yourself that she and Astarion keep each other close, even if you one day leave them behind. There had been talks of ways the two of you could extend your lifespan, and you invested every hour you could spare into researching life-extending magic.

Yet if your endeavors failed or you died prematurely, after some time, perhaps decades, perhaps centuries in the future, you will be the one who leaves first. Astarion will remain unliving and physically unchanging, and while dhampirs were said to be more alive than undead, they were exceptionally long-lived creatures. Sources the two of you researched varied greatly, but all accounts agreed that dhampirs could outlive High Elves by centuries, possibly thousands of years if they renewed themselves with blood. Two ancient souls, undead and half-undead, largely unchanging in an ever changing world. Astarion and her would need each other.

Just as you begin to feel lightheaded, he pulls away, licking and kissing your bite to seal the wound and carefully collecting any stray strands of blood. "Easy," his arms are diligently wrapped around your babe, keeping her supported and snug. "Restore yourself, darling," he encouraged.

You nod sleepily and bring your hand up to touch the amulet. "Te Absolvo," with a soft flash of healing magic, your dizziness was instantly gone, the buzz in your head replaced with Astarion's sweet praises in your ear.

"Thank you, my love," he whispers. He presses a deep kiss into your neck, where your fresh bite mark heals. Your daughter has finished her meal now as well, and you pull your gown back up to tuck her closer to you. She snuggles up on your chest, and you stroke her back softly. She's fast asleep again already, her schedule leaning more and more each into the nocturnal with each passing day. Another early manifestion of her dhampirism.

Nocturnal sleep schedules, blood hunger, spider-climbing, shape-shifting. It didn't matter what new challenges the two of you might face with her. You trusted Astarion would be there for her. He would struggle. He would make mistakes, you know. But he has you both.

As you hum sleepily to your baby girl, Astarion nestles into your neck tenderly. He mumbles unto your skin quietly, just barely loud enough to be heard.

"You have given me everything. Thank you."

[novaursa]

Ashes of the Faithful

- Summary: After Faith of the Seven has sent an assassin to kill you, Maegor declares war against the gods.

- Paring: niece!reader/Maegor I Targaryen

- Note: This story is part of Fire and Blood series, and it happens right after Fragile Hope. The masterlist is pinned to the top of my blog.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The flickering light of torches casts an eerie glow over the Great Hall, illuminating the black banners emblazoned with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen. The air buzzes with the voices of lords and ladies gathered to celebrate Maegor’s victories and his long-sought return to the Iron Throne. A bitter smile plays across your lips as you shift your hand to rest protectively over your stomach, feeling the soft, burgeoning weight there—the promise of Maegor’s heir. After years of separation, of exile and whispered prayers in the cold halls of Dragonstone, you’ve finally returned to his side, bound by his unbreakable will. Maegor’s unwavering gaze follows you as you rise to mingle with the guests, his expression one of fierce pride and possessiveness.

The evening wears on, and you share fleeting glances with your husband from across the hall, silently marveling at the sheer force he exudes even from a distance. Though your union remains contested by the Faith, and many openly despise him, none would dare deny the power Maegor wields. The hall quiets as he rises to make a toast, raising a goblet of wine.

"To House Targaryen, unbroken and bound by blood and fire," he declares, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that commands attention. "And to my queen, who carries our future within her.”

The guests raise their goblets, voices mingling in a chorus, though you can see the apprehension in some eyes, the covert glances exchanged by certain highborn lords and pious knights, wary of the Faith's condemnation.

As the applause fades, you make your way toward the shadows for a brief respite from the crowd, grateful for a moment to gather your breath. But in the next heartbeat, the chill of steel presses against your throat, and you realize—too late—what is happening. The assailant’s voice is a venomous hiss in your ear, dripping with fervent conviction.

“Your unholy union will end here, for the gods do not suffer blasphemy.”

You struggle, reaching instinctively to shield the precious life growing within you, but the assassin’s grip is unyielding. A muffled shout erupts somewhere in the hall, and the clash of steel on steel fills the air. In the chaos, you’re suddenly yanked backward as Maegor’s knights descend upon the attacker. The glint of Maegor’s own sword, Blackfyre, catches the torchlight as he strides forward, his face a mask of pure, unrestrained fury.

His voice is a low snarl. “Who sent you?”

The assassin glares defiantly, his eyes bright with fanatical zeal as he spits, "The Faith will never bless your bastard line."

The words are met with the brutal swipe of Maegor’s fist, sending the man sprawling. Maegor’s rage is unmistakable, a tempest waiting to be unleashed. He barely spares a glance for the blood pooling beneath the assassin as his gaze shifts to you, his voice softening, though the raw intensity remains.

"Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, reaching a trembling hand toward him. "Our child… I feared…"

He clasps your hand in his, grounding you with the weight of his presence. “No one will dare harm you again,” he promises, his tone as unyielding as iron. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a rare display of tenderness that only you are allowed to see, and in his eyes, you catch a glimpse of the lengths he would go to keep that vow.

The assassin, barely conscious, is dragged upright by Maegor’s guards. Without hesitation, Maegor approaches, towering over the man like an avenging shadow. “Tell me the names of those who sent you,” he demands.

When the man remains silent, defiance flickering in his gaze, Maegor lifts his sword. Blackfyre’s blade gleams ominously in the torchlight, and his words are laced with icy finality. “If the Faith dares to send another of your kind, I will burn their septs to the ground. And you will be the first to watch.”

A ripple of fear passes through the onlookers, their expressions a mix of awe and terror as they watch their king take vengeance. Maegor turns to you, his voice softer. "Return to your chambers, Y/N. I will handle this."

Though you hesitate, knowing the bloodshed to come, you nod. "I trust you, my king," you whisper, pressing a hand to his cheek before leaving.

In your chambers, guarded on all sides, you try to steady your breathing. The shadows outside flicker, signaling the torches carried by men as they move through the halls. Soon, shouts echo from the square below, where you know Maegor has gathered his court to witness the assassin’s fate, a display meant to instill fear in any who would challenge his claim—or threaten his family.

As you sit, the quiet hum of life within you reassures you. Whatever comes, you and your child are shielded by the relentless force of Maegor’s love, a love bound in fire and forged through blood.

Hours later, he returns, smelling faintly of smoke and steel, his eyes softening when they meet yours. "It is done," he murmurs, his voice a mixture of exhaustion and conviction.

You reach for him, pulling him close, and whisper, "Thank you, Maegor. For us… and for our child."

He presses his lips to your forehead, a rare, almost reverent gesture. "No one will take you from me, Y/N. Not the Faith, not the realm. None can come between us."

And in that moment, beneath the pale moonlight, you believe him.

The dawn breaks in a haze of gray clouds, but for you, the morning feels no less ominous. You watch from a high window in Maegor’s hall as Balerion, the Black Dread, spreads his wings wide across the sky, casting an enormous shadow over the land. Maegor’s resolve is unshakable, and he has vowed that the Faith will answer for their transgressions. He has given orders, brief and absolute, his voice carrying the weight of his fury. None could miss the look in his eyes—the wildfire rage that demanded to be sated.

As he prepares to mount Balerion, he approaches you, his gloved hand reaching out to tilt your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes, dark and relentless, seem to devour you.

“This realm has mocked me for the last time, Y/N,” he says, his tone simmering with a quiet rage that sends a chill through you. “They do not know loyalty or respect; they only know fear. I will make them remember it.”

You rest a hand over your belly protectively, feeling the faint stir within you, as if the child growing there senses the dread. “And the Starry Sept?” you ask quietly, knowing all too well what its destruction would mean, not only for the Faith but also for the Hightower family—his late wife’s kin.

His lips twist into a cruel smile. “That den of false gods and hypocrites? It shall be the first to burn. None will dare to insult my queen again.”

You nod, feeling an odd mixture of fear and awe as you stand beside him. The Maegor before you is no longer just a man—he is a storm incarnate, a maelstrom of fury bound to a creature of fire and shadow. “They will see Balerion’s flame from miles away,” you murmur, almost to yourself.

He leans in, his hand settling over yours on your stomach, where his heir grows. “I do this for you and for our child. So you will live without fear. So our child will not know a world that questions his right.”

You swallow, feeling the intensity of his words and knowing that, in his twisted way, Maegor does love you deeply—perhaps as much as he can love anything. “Come back to me,” you whisper, pressing your forehead against his. “Return to us, Maegor.”

He gives you a rare, almost tender smile, before pulling away, the steel in his eyes returning. “Wait for me, Y/N,” he says, his voice firm. “By the time the moon rises, the Faith will feel the fire of House Targaryen.”

With that, he mounts Balerion, and you watch as they rise into the sky, becoming a dark silhouette against the dawn. The moment they disappear over the horizon, you turn back into the hall, nerves tingling with the knowledge of the destruction to come.

The Starry Sept in Oldtown stands proud as it always has, a beacon of the Faith’s ancient power. Its towering walls, adorned with stars and golden trimmings, seem almost untouched by the passage of time, a testament to its sanctity. The Faith Militant, dressed in their glinting silver armor, stand guard outside, their hands resting on the pommels of their swords.

And then, a shadow falls over Oldtown.

The people in the streets look up, gasping, children screaming as they behold the black shape in the sky, his massive wings blotting out the sun. The bells of the Starry Sept toll, signaling a warning, but it is already too late. Balerion lands with a bone-rattling impact, his claws digging into the earth just outside the grand doors of the sept. Dust and debris fly as the ground trembles beneath his weight. The Faith Militant immediately raise their shields and swords, but they are little more than ants to the dragon that towers over them.

Maegor, seated upon Balerion’s back, calls out, his voice echoing like thunder through the city. “I am Maegor Targaryen, your rightful king! And I declare the Faith Militant enemies of the realm!”

There is a murmur of defiance from the knights below, and one of the septons dares to raise his voice. “You blaspheme, Maegor! The gods themselves deny your union. You will face judgment!”

Maegor lets out a short, humorless laugh, glancing down at the man with disdain. “Then let your gods protect you from my wrath.” He raises his arm, signaling to Balerion.

With a rumbling growl that reverberates through the stone walls, Balerion opens his jaws, and a torrent of fire bursts forth, consuming the sept’s doors in an instant. The flame spreads with terrifying speed, licking up the stone walls and turning them to blackened, smoking ruin. The Faith Militant try to flee, but Balerion’s fire is relentless, consuming them as they run, their silver armor melting, the flesh beneath charring to bone.

The people of Oldtown watch in horror from the streets and rooftops, their faces pale, their voices strangled with fear. Maegor’s voice rises above the roar of the flames, clear and unyielding.

“This is what happens to those who defy the Crown,” he shouts, his voice filled with the fury of a man wronged for too long. “To those who think they can take my queen from me.”

The sept’s grand structure crumbles as the fire sears through wood, stone, and glass alike. The stained glass windows, depicting scenes of saints and the Seven, shatter in the intense heat, raining shards upon the Faith Militant and those unfortunate enough to be nearby. Balerion’s fire leaves no sanctuary, no corner of the sept untouched. Statues of the gods melt under the flames, the Seven themselves reduced to ash and rubble, as if even they cannot withstand Maegor’s wrath.

From his perch atop Balerion, Maegor watches with an unsettling satisfaction. His expression is grim, merciless, as he surveys the destruction below. The High Septon himself, garbed in his white and gold robes, flees the Starry Sept, clutching a holy tome to his chest as though it might shield him from the flames. Maegor’s gaze locks onto him, his mouth twisting into a sneer.

“You, who claim to be closest to the gods, will not escape their punishment,” Maegor calls, his voice carrying across the square.

The High Septon falls to his knees, raising his trembling hands in a plea. “Spare me, Your Grace! I have served the gods faithfully—I am but their humble servant!”

Maegor’s face hardens, the glint in his eyes cold and unfeeling. “Your Faith sent assassins after my queen, my child,” he growls. “You will burn for that.”

With another signal, Balerion releases another torrent of fire, engulfing the High Septon in a scorching blaze. His screams echo through Oldtown, a terrible symphony of agony that seems to reach even the highest towers of the Hightower itself. The onlookers, paralyzed by fear, watch as the flames consume the last remnants of the Starry Sept and those who served within it. The High Septon’s cries fall silent, leaving only the crackling of fire and the distant sobbing of townsfolk horrified by the display of power.

As the Starry Sept collapses in a smoldering heap, Maegor directs Balerion to soar higher, circling the ruined city below. His gaze sweeps over the Hightower, a place where he once lived when he took a wife from among their daughters—a wife who dared to defy his queen, to question the place of Y/N at his side. Her blood, like that of the septons below, was shed without hesitation. Maegor has always ensured that no voice rises above his own, not even those of the gods.

But now, his voice rings out again across Oldtown, a decree that none can ignore.

“Let it be known throughout the realm,” he declares, “that the Faith Militant and any who align themselves with the false righteousness of the gods shall face the same fate. No man, no god, no Septon shall question the rule of House Targaryen or my right to claim my queen.”

The words echo in the silence, seared into the minds of all who listen, the weight of them settling upon the city like a brand. And then, with a final glance down at the burning ruin below, Maegor commands Balerion to rise, leaving a trail of smoke and ash in their wake.

Hours later, Maegor returns to the capital, his armor and cloak singed, his face streaked with soot but unbowed. You wait for him at the entrance, heart pounding, watching as he dismounts Balerion and strides toward you, his gaze hard and impenetrable. Yet, as he nears, that hardness softens, if only slightly, as his eyes meet yours.

Without a word, you reach for him, pressing a hand to his chest, feeling the heat still radiating from his armor. “You’ve done it, then,” you murmur, barely above a whisper.

He nods, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders, his grip firm but protective. “No one will dare threaten you again. They have seen what becomes of those who defy us.”

You meet his gaze, searching for the man beneath the rage, the one who has risked everything for you, who will stop at nothing to secure the life of the child growing within you. “And the Faith? Will they stop?”

His jaw tightens, and his voice lowers, almost gentle but carrying a fierce undercurrent. “If they don’t, I will burn every sept in the Seven Kingdoms until not a single one remains.” His hand slips to your belly, resting there possessively. “They will never again come close to you or our child.”

You nod, feeling the weight of his promise, the depth of his wrath. Maegor may be feared, hated even, but in his own brutal, unyielding way, he is yours, and he will keep you safe no matter the cost.

He steps back, exhaling, his eyes never leaving yours. “Tonight, let the realm know that House Targaryen’s fire is boundless,” he says, his voice softer now, almost a murmur. “I will destroy all who oppose us. And in time, they will kneel, knowing they have no choice.”

In that moment, you feel a surge of fierce pride, not only in Maegor’s power but in his loyalty, however ruthless. With him, you will carve a place in this unforgiving world for your child, even if it must be forged in flame and blood.

“Then let them see,” you reply, matching his intensity, feeling the strength of his determination coursing through you. “We will stand together, and the realm will learn to fear us.”

Maegor’s hand tightens over yours, a silent vow exchanged between the two of you. And as he pulls you close, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, you know that whatever comes next, you will face it together—bound by blood, fire, and an unbreakable loyalty that no god or mortal can shatter.

[jeonghanspookie]

The Plan

"Okay so what are we gonna do about Y/N and Vernon?"

The group of 12 decided they have had enough of the weird tension between their two friends. They all gathered at Mingyu's apartment to come up with a plan that could get the two to reconcile.

Of course they also made this meetup an excuse to get Mingyu to cook them a meal and for Seungcheol to buy them some drinks.

In fact the meetup was starting to look like one of their bbq nights.

Chan, who was currently making himself a wrap, spoke up, "Yeah we gotta figure out how to get the two to make up. I can't work under these conditions anymore!"

Jeonghan nodded his head. "Yeah and I don't think I can play another round of Dress to Impress with Y/N. One can only troll so much on Roblox."

"No yeah we definitely need to get them to reconcile."

"I've had enough of seeing Vernon eat Toast every lunch"

"Yeah I don't know if I can do another Taco Bell run with Y/N. Everything tastes the same to me know"

"And if I have to listen to Vernon explaining which Shrek movie is the best out of the whole franchise again I'm gonna crash out for real"

With a mouth full of rice, Soonyoung made a sound of agreement. "Whaf ebenf haftend-" he let out muffled.

"I don't know but I'm guessing it happened after work on Tuesday. They were fine with each other during their closing shifts that day, but when they came in the next morning they were acting so cold to each other." Dokyeom said while continuing to flip the meat on the grill.

From across the table Junhui was eyeing the biggest piece pork belly on the grill.

Joshua made a displeased face. "Maybe they were just mad they had to open after closing"

"Nah" Seungkwan started, "They were both being normal to everyone else. Plus the two of them play games til like 2 AM everyday so it doesn't make a difference if they closed the night before.

The piece of pork was one flip away from being grilled to perfection.

"WAIT THATS IT!" Wonwoo exclaimed.

"Huh"

Seokmin flipped the piece of pork.

Wonwoo stood up to explain, "Tuesday nights are when we work on our Minecraft neighborhood."

"Nerds" Seungcheol interrupted.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. "Anyway. They were fine before I left the discord call and the Minecraft server and that was a little after midnight. So something most likely happened after that."

He then looked over to Soonyoung and Seokmin. "You guys were still in the server with them after I left right? Did anything happen?"

Soonyoung shrugged. "We weren't there for long after you left.."

"Yeah we got kicked out of the call and the server since we kept arguing because Soonyoung killed my horse!" Seokmin glared at the so called horse killer.

"THAT WASNT MY FAULT AND YOU KNOW IT"

"THE SCREEN LITERALLY SAID 'KING KONG WAS SLAIN BY HORANGHAE96' OF COURSE IT WAS YOUR FAULT"

Junhui finally picked up the precious piece of pork and put it on his plate.

"I was just trying to ride your horse." Soonyoung pouted. "I didn't know I was hitting him with my sword"

"There's literally a button to get on the horse" Jihoon interjected.

"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW!"

Right as Soonyoung yelled out his defense, he stood up with his arms out, bumping into Junhui's shoulder in the process making Jun drop the piece of pork belly he had almost brought to his mouth.

"Wait you named your horse King Kong?" Joshua quesy Seokmin.

Junhui now stares at his piece of pork that is now on the floor.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter" Mingyu said as he brought in some more bowls of rice. "Let's just figure out what happened and how to fix it."

Seungkwan agreed. "Yeah! We're losing the plot!"

"Why don't yall go back on the server and see if anything happened." Minghao suggested.

Jun settles for the next best piece of pork.

"Oh what the fuck"

"It says Vernon made the world private"

"What does that mean?"

"It means only he can he join the server."

"Tell Vernon to come over right now. We need answers!"

15 minutes later

"So yeah. Basically I accidentally led a creeper into the underground tunnels we have connecting our houses together and Y/N got too close to it and it ended up blowing up part of her house. Specifically Dumbledore's room." Vernon explained.

"Dumbledore? Like the wizard? I thought you guys were playing Minecraft?"

Wonwoo sighed. "Y/N named her cat in Minecraft Dumbledore"

"Ohhh"

"So that explains why she's mad at you" Minghao concludes. "Now why are you mad at her?"

Vernon runs his hands up and down his face.

"So after the creeper exploded Y/N got mad at me because when she went to go look at the damage she noticed that Dumbledore was gone. And because she got mad at me she went to my house and destroyed my bed and then she started chasing me around with her netherite sword. Before I knew it she killed my character and I had to respond at the default spawn point because she destroyed my bed. At least I had the coordinates but Y/N turned them off so I couldn't go back to the neighborhood. So then I got mad and we started arguing and then it ended with me kicking her out of the server." Vernon ended with a frown on his face.

"I'm not even mad at Y/N, it was just in the moment. Now I feel so bad because her house is destroyed and Dumbledore is gone"

"Yall are really fighting over some stup-" Jihoon starts.

"What Jihoon means to say is that we can fix this." Seungkwan says as he covers Jihoon's mouth before he could finish his sentence that could have potentially made Vernon even sadder.

"Yeah just spawn a cat that looks like Dumbledore and say that he was outside and not in his room." Joshua says.

Seems reasonable.

Vernon looks at the group with an unconvinced face. "I don't know guys. That just feels wrong."

Jeonghan pats the younger boy's back. "If it makes you feel any better, that's probably the 9th Dumbledore we'll replace"

Vernon looks up at him.

"WHAT"

Jeonghan nods. "Yeah the original Dumbledore was gone a long time ago. It got in the way when I was trying to shoot arrows at a skeleton and I ended up hitting him instead."

Vernon's jaw dropped.

"I accidentally left his door open once and a zombie got to him." Soonyoung admitted.

"Pretty sure Mingyu killed him once too because he thought it was a mob"

Vernon looked to the group with his eyes wide. "So you guys have been replacing Dumbledore with a clone every time you get him killed?"

"Yeah pretty much"

"Do you think Y/N will believe us?"

"How do you even have the cat spawn egg? We turned off the option to switch to creative mode."

"I have my ways"

"OH MY GOD! Dumbledore was outside in the garden Vern! He's perfectly fine!" Y/N cheered over the discord call.

"Thank goodness he's safe." Vernon says slowly.

"Aw I'm sorry I made you go back to the OV spawn point." Y/N says apologetically. "Here let me turn on cords so you can get back and we can keep expanding the tunnels!"

"Down! We should rebuild Dumbledore's room first!"

"Right!" Y/N laughed. "Let's go!"

As the two were playing and chatting over discord, the rest of the 12 boys looked over at Vernon smiling at the computer screen with a fond smiles on their faces.

Balance was restored.

prev <- masterlist -> next

A/N: Yeah some of this doesn't follow Minecraft laws but whatever.

[blenselche]

insert for ch2

"Finn, come on."

background items: Marcy Acoustic set poster from Scream Queens, Fern's leaves pressed between glass, Finn's Candy Kingdom diplomat pin, the cash he won in a bet in the comic Marcy & Simon, the dimensional sword, root sword. I wanted to add more but thought it'd get too busy.

closer view and excerpt under the cut

He finds himself before the sink, mussing up his oily hair and disheveled beard to rid himself of wood chips, splashing water over his face and coughing after breathing deep off a stale cigarette. The cherry fizzles back at him against the aluminum as he taps it off into an empty. He tugs at the bottom of his eyelid — the whites of his eyes are yellowing again. Pressing his forehead to the mirror and staring at his reflection he sees Martin's eyes, jaw and brow. He sees his maladjusted view, understands now what he meant, in the end.

He can't look in a mirror without seeing the man staring back at him, and it only gets worse with age.

“You’re fine. Today was just a bad day,” he recites just as he’s been told to, loyal tool of the kingdom that he is, a coping mechanism PB calls self affirmation. He leans back, scoffing, “in a long line of bad days.”

His feet carry him to the stump set before his wood stove, and the air toasts his frozen fingers and melts away the pins and needles in the skin that his port connects to. Anxiety bubbles its way up his esophagus and he drowns it with a long pull off his homebrew, eyes flickering from the bottle to his prosthetic, foot tapping furiously. He sighs and gives into the itch at the back of his brain, taking the wish out and reading it over again, biting more teeth marks into a pencil already shredded down to the lead.

It’s something to look forward to. Something he can put off, hoping ‘it gets better’ but it hasn’t and he’s almost certain it won’t. A morbid form of motivation to get more built, work harder, save more people, hoping against hope he’ll wake up happy before he has to spirit himself away. But none of it matters without fulfillment, sat alone and suffocating under his own melancholy in this empty space, only a facsimile of a loved one on his chest for company. He wants to see his brother, he wants to see his mom. He wants from the bottom of his being to go back and smack himself for being dumb, deaf and blind in the face of his own wants and needs. He hunches more in on himself and clutches it harder, it crinkles back at him, threatening another rip.

Slim, sage colored fingers enter his vision and pluck the precious slip of writing from his hand.

“I’ll give it back if you clean yourself up and go to bed.”

“I have it memorized,” he sighs. “I thought you believed in nihilism, anyway, Miss nothing matters and the wind makes my decisions.” Their eyes meet and he can’t help himself but to smile, though it doesn’t reach the rest of his face.

“I believe in natural predeterminism inscribed on our souls by our great earth mother, not in being a sad sack with whisky dick.”

“Ouch. My ego,” he drones, throwing his palm to his chest in faux hurt. “Like I’m disappointing anyone these days. Cot’s closed, sweetheart.”

“So not why I’m here.” She rolls her eyes and holds her hand out, motioning for the bottle.

“If you crack it open against my floor you owe me a face cord of firewood.” He hands it over by the neck and she takes a fifth straight, wiping her mouth with the back of her glove and gagging. “Christ, bad day?”

“Not yet.” She sighs deeply, clearing her throat of the burn and takes a seat on the floor next to him. “You’re going to be pissed with me. I thought saying anything would just upset you, but you’re still set on doing this,” she waves the wish in her hand, “so. It might help. I don’t know.”

“What are you talking about?” His voice drops decibels, adam’s apple bobbing as he gruffly clears his throat.

“I swear to you I didn’t keep this from you on purpose.” She huffs a sigh and peers up at him guiltily. “You know, Fern crashed in my woods with LSP, but we never spoke. Not until the war.”

“…” his breath gets caught in his lungs, burning.

“I forgot. There was so much going on, back then.” She blinks at him, brows steepled, and covers his hand with her own. “What he said— when I did remember I thought it would just break your heart all over again, so I’ve kept it to myself.”

His hackles raise and defensiveness floods his veins, skin hot and starting to prick with nervous sweat. “Excuse me?” he asks, resistive.

Her eyes hold his though, expression full of pity unchanged. “Finn. Come on.” Her thumb brushes against his knuckles and he shakes her off.

His anger speaks for him, misplaced and protective of his brittle heart. “It’s been a decade and you think I’m like this over some kid I knew for half a minute when we were teenagers?”

“He wasn’t just some kid, I‘ve seen you- you know. Lurking in his tree. It’s a contributing factor in your whole bummer lifestyle because you never processed his death. Or are we still pretending that he has nothing to do with us?” Her voice is gentle but firm, not entertaining his usual evasiveness.

“I'm not doing this,” he snaps, shutting down. He stands and walks to the door, holding it open even though the cold night air will chill the space again. “I am sorry, ‘Tess, for— for whatever you think you know. I can’t rehash it. I’ve buried that shit deep, and it’s gonna stay there.”

“I asked him what he was fighting for. He was dying, falling apart under me, I was just trying to keep him distracted," she barrels ahead anyway. “He looked me in the eye and said ‘same as you.’ Maybe he opened up to me because of what was happening to him, or because he knew we had— you in common, I’m not sure.” She looks at him with such compassionate sympathy that it makes him nauseous. “He adored you, Finn—“ his knees buckle, “—he said he was happy to die for you if it meant he could 'make up for everything that happened after you left him behind’.” She stands and reads the wish, scrutinizing. “If you truly need to do this to be happy… knowing that can’t hurt.”

How he’s able to remain upright he doesn’t know, but a flash of devastation covers his face before he can recover.

“Please, don’t tell me his business,” he rasps, voice wavering. “I can’t,” he begs, croaking out the words through the raw vice of emotion choking him. “I can’t think about it.” He closes his eyes, pleading with his whole body.

He feels a hand brush against his cheek, and her lips press to his softly, whispering “I’ll miss you.”

When he opens his eyes again she’s gone. Bottle and paper placed neatly on his stool. He closes the door and leans against it, hugging himself and breathing hard, face hot with upset. The more he tries to calm himself the closer he comes to hyperventilating, and when the tears start his breathing only worsens. He crams his fist against his mouth and takes a shuddering gasp in, close to wailing over it.

[jarofstyles]

Reaper 13

This is SUPER LONG and dirty but enjoyyy it for as long as it lasts hehe.

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing

Warnings- possessive behavior, aggression, threats, mention of murder, stalking, illegal acts  we do not Condone, knife play, impact play (slapping x spanking), daddy kink if you squint, breeding kink mention, degradation, dom/sub dynamic, dumbification if you squint, choking, bondage w belt, hair pulling.... you get the gist everything is filthy as per usual 

WC- 11.3k

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

Tourist attractions really weren’t Harry’s thing, especially in his own city. He thought it was all a bit underwhelming, he’d rather look at a photo and be over it. He never thought he’d ever step foot in the Victoria and Albert Museum, Kensington was no place for someone like him. Yet there he was, watching his own work of art, Bunny, read the plaques by each painting.

The way her eyes lit up this morning when he told her they’d do whatever she wanted, he didn’t have it in himself to say no. So he let her drag him along to all the sites, even going as far as taking photos with her. If she were anyone else, he would tell her to stuff it- but that smile made it worth every moment of internal suffering.

“I’m getting hungry,” Bunny whispered to him, wanting to be respectful of the environment. Her arm had snaked its way under his, her hand curling around his bicep for comfort.

Harry chuckled when he felt her squeeze at the muscle, mindlessly going to place a kiss on the top of her head. The mindless affection had become more and more common. “You okay to head back towards the hotel? The options around here are a bit shit.” Harry continued in a hushed tone, guiding the two of them towards the stairs to begin exiting. “Plus, there are a bunch of pubs back that way… can get you some of that authentic food to try.”

“Authentic food?” She raised a brow. “You mean beans on toast? Egg in the hole?” There was teasing in her tone, a giant grin on her face as he looked down at her. She was taunting him, but it was good to see her really fucking smile after these last few weeks.

A scoff sounded from his throat, eyes rolling as they continued. “Lucky you’re cute. Or I’d toss your ass into the Thames, and that is particularly unpleasant.” He retorted, lightly pinching her side to make her squeak.

“Oi! Precious cargo here.” Her hip bumped into his as they walked, looking at her fake wedding ring. Although it wasn’t real, seeing it and what it represented made her stomach flutter. Would that be a possibility? Would he ever actually propose? What ring would he actually choose? He’d probably do it somewhere very private and secret, just the two of them. Shaking herself out of that thought, she continued. “What I was saying was, yes. I’m happy to head back. Your arm must be tired from holding all of my stuff.”

It wasn’t too bad. A few bags with the very tacky and overpriced London swag, things he knew she would probably stick on a shelf and not use- but part of him felt some sort of happiness that she liked it enough to buy souvenirs. “S’fine, darling. Snow globes and tee shirts and magnets are surprisingly lightweight.”

“Right, so you don’t mind if I drag us into the gift shop?” Bunny teased and squeezed his arm, tripping over her feet a bit as she leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.

Harry had never thought he’d experience this type of relationship. It almost felt juvenile with how they clung to one another and got shy at each other's teasing ocassionally. It felt so out of character for him, but then again, it came naturally with her. He thought, if his life had been different, that maybe that’s how he was meant to be.

“Thought you said you were hungry?”

———

Pubs were a quintessential part of the British experience. You could go just about anywhere in the UK and there would always be a pub to welcome you in. Sure, the decor was a bit outdated, but Harry always thought it made them more charming. No two pubs were exactly alike. Some had different stools.

“What do you fancy? Fish and chips? Bangers and Mash? Gonna take you for a roast at the weekend.” Harry’s speech had already adjusted, his accent thicker than she’d ever heard it before. It made Bunny smile fondly, she’d never seen him in a mood like this and she was cherishing every second.

“Fancy, huh? You’re sounding incredibly British today, Mr.Davidson.” She winked, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and looping them as they settled at the end of the bar. The mood was just so good today, and she was relishing it.

“Fancy, yes. Like I fancy you.” His voice was quiet, a tiny smirk on the corner of his lips as she felt her heart stutter in her chest. His hands came to hold her hips, cuffing them with his cool skin and making her shiver. Her outfit wasn’t particularly thick- which was why she had stopped to buy the coat she’d hung up when they walked in. If someone stole it, oh well. It was pretty cheap.

“You do?” She peered at him through her lashes, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Gonna make me blush. Look at you, flirty man.” Harry had been exceptionally affectionate today and it had almost taken her off guard. Like he could finally let go a bit and give her the proper boyfriend treatment, loved treatment, whatever it was called. It made her all fuzzy and hot in her stomach.

“Good. Like making y’shy.” He tugged at the ends of her hair. “Soon as a table opens up we can sit down and properly eat.” But he didn’t mind standing here. He soaked in every second of her leaning into him, playing like a proper couple on a ‘honeymoon’. He liked the feeling of the ring on that finger.

Bunny nodded along, letting her eyes wander around the dimly lit space. The place wasn’t too packed, though as the clouds drew in it seemed everyone was looking for shelter.

“Y/N? No fucking way.” A familiar voice interrupted Bunny from her train of thought. Her head snapped in the direction the voice was coming from, swallowing thickly. Fuck. Not here- not now.

“Ian?” She hadn’t seen him in years, not since he moved away for college. She had been so devastated back then. Sterling’s departure had taken a toll on her and well, Ian wasn’t man enough to tell her he too would be leaving her.

“Are you stalking me?” He joked, taking a step towards her. It seemed as though he hadn’t noticed just who she was there with.

Harry was quick to place himself between them.

Who the fuck is this? And why the fuck did he know Bunny? His jaw clenched so hard he was surprised his teeth didn’t crack, feeling fingers gently pressing against his arm as he looked down at the shorter man.

Was this some sort of sick joke?

“Who the fuck are you?” His words were cold, his molten relaxed nature from before cooling quickly before shattering like glass on the pavement. His eyes were sharp and hard as he looked down, feeling her peek over his arm and try and move closer but he extended it to keep her behind him.

Whoever the fuck this Ian was, he was in London. A place where she knew no one. The world couldn’t possibly be that small, and he was on edge all over again. “Are you following her?”

Oh god. Bunny stepped forward, clutching Harry’s arm in her grasp to try and chill him out. It looked bad, it definitely looked bad and she could understand his irritation, but-

“H, it’s okay-“

“No. It isn’t.” His harsh tone stung his own ears as he approached further, eyes zeroed in on him. “I’ll ask again, How the fuck did you find her here?”

“Find her?” Ian looked like he had seen a ghost. He had remembered Reaper, very very well. How could he forget all the times he’d come over and he’d be outside working on his bike? The death stare he gave was enough to have him rushing inside without turning back. He was aware of the reputation Reaper held, to say Ian was scared was an understatement.

“Dude, I swear I wasn’t trying to make any moves, just surprised she’s here— I live here man.” Ian was in a rush to finish his sentences, attempting to clear the lump forming his throat.

“Baby, you know that, remember? I was dating him before Sterling left.” Bunny peeped up from behind him, her heart beating out of her chest. The last thing she needed was for Harry to cause a scene when they were trying to lay low. While the coincidence was shocking, she knew full well Ian was too stupid to pull off what her stalker was pulling.

“Where?” Harry barked, preparing to grill the man for all he was worth. If he couldn’t tell him a way a Londoner would understand, he was worried he would do his head in right here on the bar. His stomach had already been turning at the mere mention of him dating her before, but the thought of being face to face with someone who could possibly be part of this ongoing torture of his girl? He was seething.

“Canary Wharf, a few stops on the DLR. I’m not giving you my address, sicko.”

“Sicko?” He laughed without humor. “I’m not the one following girls around. How’d you know she’d be here?” He took a step closer, the hair on the back of his neck prickled as he tried to scan the man’s face for any hint of lying.

He was scared shitless, as he should be, but Harry was thrown right back into the paranoia that he usually felt back home. The hesitation and distrust of anyone who got around her. How perfect would it be for her obsessive ex to be the one following her around?

“I didn’t! I swear I didn’t, bro. I’m just as surprised as she is- t-tell him, Y/N. Please!” He was backing up slightly as Harry took another step forward, making her grab his arm and try and tug him back.

“H- Hey.” She gently dragged her fingers down his arm. “Please. It’s okay. He’s been here for a while, he left a while back. I didn’t know where he was moving to.” Trying to diffuse the situation was unnerving. She’d seen Harry get like this a few times, but she didn’t want to make a scene here. “Look at me, please. He’s not the person you think.” Meaning her stalker. She could see the cogs turning in his mind, the nervousness from how he worked his jaw, how his other hand had slipped behind him to have a hand on his gun if he needed it. They couldn’t afford to have that happen in such a public place, but it was well known that Harry, when he was Reaper mindset, didn’t care. He would take out a threat and deal with the consequences. As much as it warmed her that he was that dedicated to her safety, it wasn’t any good if he went down for taking out the wrong guy.

“Babe.” Her stern tone cut through the tension, her hand moving to squeeze over his hand tightly. This couldn’t happen. Bunny’s heart was beating out of her chest, looking between the two of them as she tried to figure out what her next move was. “Ian, you remember Harry yeah?” She began, her fingers rubbing gentle circles over the wedding band on her boyfriend’s hand. It would be hard to explain it to Ian, so she figured it was best to keep them hidden. “He brought me here to London to show me around, we’ve been together for a while now so it felt like a good time to see where he came from.”

Harry was still sizing Ian up, chest heaving slightly. Focusing on the sound of Bunny’s voice, he could still hear the faint sound of blood pumping in his ears. This guy was harmless, she had ruled him out but Harry’s brain was still on high alert.

“Anyways, we were just leaving,” Harry interjected, no longer wishing to be in this idiot's presence. He needed to be back in a safe space with his Bunny.

“We don’t have to-“

“I just remembered our reservation. Let’s go.”  The tone of his voice had taken her off guard, unfamiliar with the sweet one he usually held specifically for her, but she would let it go despite how it stung under her skin. He was wound up and nervous, and he had just had a scare in the one place he had seemed to key his guard down. She had to remember that. He had just been knocked over, metaphorically speaking.

“You don’t have to run off,” Ian said with a laugh, feeling a bit bolder and wanting to reclaim that stupid masculinity he had felt was stripped of him from the interaction. “I’m not going to try and steal her-“

Before he could finish, his shirt was fisted in Harry’s hand, his body whipped around and pressed to the bar as the cocky look on his face faded to fear. His eyes were dark and cold, though the anger was simmering under the surface of his skin.

“You can’t have her. She isn’t an item to be stolen. I’ve heard about your puny cock and the lack of care you’ve given my girl. Bold of you to assume she’s mentioned more than her dissatisfaction over you.” He did indeed remember this dickhead. It made him want to drag him to the back alley and use the silencer on his gun to take him out. But he was in public. So threats would have to do. “If you breathe a word of her being here, if you try to contact her, if you even look at her again tonight, I will end you. Make your life a living hell, and end it with your body sunk in the Thames.” His words were quiet, but so matter of fact that Bunny’s eyes widened. The pub noises would filter out anyone else hearing, but she could.

“I know the people from the deepest depths of the underground here. One fucking call and I’ll have your entire flat ruined, your bank account drained, and your body strung up in an abandoned building before they dispose of you. So heed this warning very, very carefully.” He got closer. “You’ll stay here, order a pint, and forget that this night and my woman has ever existed. If I hear a word of this breathed out -and I will- I’ll make good on my phone call.” Eyes traced him in disgust. “And you won’t make very good fish food, either.”

Finally, he dropped the guy and pulled Bunny with him, trying to be mindful of how hard he pulled so her shorter legs wouldn’t make her fall. But he was livid. Angry, his face blank and nostrils flared as he grits his teeth.

She decided to stay silent, following him and wrapping her arm around his, their connected fingers an anchor for the both of them. “I’m sorry.” Her voice peeped, looking up at him. “I-didn’t know he would be there. I swear I haven’t known anything since he moved.”

He froze. Why was she apologizing?

Harry could hear the sound of his teeth grinding, though it seemed he felt no pain. His focus was purely on getting her back to the hotel as safely and quietly as possible. Stupid fucking idiot had to choose this pub of all pubs in London to walk into and ruin the perfect end to the day for his perfect girl.

“S’ fine, Bun.” Harry tried his best to reassure her, though his breathing was still heavy and his mind was still racing. He was on high alert as he guided the two of them through the busy crowd of Leicester Square, no one paid much attention to them there. Only one more turn and they’d be safe in the street right by their hotel.

Bunny wasn’t sure what she was expecting as they entered the hotel and made their way up. She chose to stay quiet, her arms wiggling their way around his waist as her head rested against his chest in an attempt to soothe them both. His heart was pounding, though his muscles were noticeably less tense than they had been at the pub.

She didn’t think she’d be able to eat much now, her main concern was tending to Harry. It’d been a good while since he’d snapped back into his protective state, they’d worked so hard to get him to actually relax on this trip. She had been worried it was all for nothing.

“Talk to me.” She murmured as they entered the safety of their room, the sound of Harry double-checking the locks behind them had her eyes squeezing shut. She wished he didn’t have to go through this. If only they didn’t go to that pub.

His throat bobbed as he scanned the room again, only broken out of the trance when her hands gently grabbed his face, cradling his jaw. All she did was gentle. She treated him with a softness no one else ever had, one that he had never even thought of himself being able to have.

There was a moment he stood without a word, looking down at him as he tried to gather himself. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her or make her feel neglected like he had the time before, but it was really fucking hard to do that. His body was taught, tense and he held back tremors of both rage and fear. It was a false alarm, sure, but he had felt all the feelings he imagined surfacing from finding the son of a bitch stalker. His uneven breathing filled the room as she continued to try and soothe him, her soft and concerned gaze killing him. How the fuck was she being so good with him even after what he had done? How he had shut down?

“I was terrified.” He admitted into the silence of the room. “That it was him. I’m still not convinced he isn’t involved.  I was letting myself get too relaxed. You’re in danger.” He stressed, head tilting back as he ran his hands over his face. There was obvious regret and self anger in his tone, breaking her heart just a bit more. “I was selfish for not letting my head be on a swivel.  I could never forgive myself if I let you get hurt. Ever.” Hs hands peeled off his cheeks so he could look at her, the seriousness of his words bleeding through.

“I promised to protect you. Not only to your father, to your brother- but to myself. This whole thing, you and I? It isn't just sex to me, Bunny. You’re- you’re mine. In every fucking sense of the word. The one person that means anything to me and if I fuck up because I want to- I want to be selfish and just let go? I’d die. If you hurt, I hurt. I can’t ever let it happen.” He felt the intensity in his stomach rise, the feelings he had been trying to keep in check boiling over in the pot. Frothing over the edges, he couldn’t stop himself from falling for her, no matter how many times he had stirred and tried to keep the overflow at bay.

“You mean the most to me. I’ve never cared this much about a person. I felt so much rage… not only at him but at myself. I’m so angry.” He growled. “He looked at you. He touched your arm. How much fucking clearer does it have to be?” Slowly backing her up, Bunny trusting him as her back bumped against the door and her head tipped up to look up at him. Her angry knight. So passionate about protecting her. “Do I have to get you a sign to tell people you’re mine? That I’m yours and I will rip their hearts from their chest, I will slice off any finger that touches you?” His eyes blazed, Harry’s discomfort obvious. He meant every word. AS gruesome as he could be, she hadn’t seen the whole of it yet. This girl got to see the good parts of him and he was convinced that she would be the only one they were reserved for.

Bunny’s eyes searched his, trying to find some kind of sign. Sure, his emotions were on high, but he meant each word he was saying. She could feel it— never once did his words falter, his gaze never leaving hers as his fingertips delicately began to push her jacket off of her shoulders.

“Say something.” Harry breathed, his eyes too scanning hers in an attempt to anchor himself in the moment. When he was with her nothing else mattered, he didn’t have to be anyone he wasn’t. With her he was free. “I mean every word—“

“I know.” Bunny’s voice had been so quiet she wasn’t even sure if he heard it. The words she had wanted to say were hiding just under her breath, if only she felt brave she would tell him. Profess that she loved him and that she trusted him more than anyone else in this world. “I keep thinking,” She started, her sentence interrupted by the thump of her jacket falling on the floor. “You’re the only one I’d want to be here with. The only one I want…” Her words trailed off with a soft moan. God, she was sick.

Cold fingertips dragged up along her arm, Harry’s other hand finding the warmth of her lower back just under her top. He really couldn’t help himself, she was the only thing that could get him to relax.

His stomach heated with a different sort of passion. A flick of a candle, a switch of a blade, a single moan. Her soft body melted into his own as her eyes bore into his own, that calming energy sinking into his skin and melding into arousal that he couldn’t help. She was aroused by this?

Yes. She was. The woman was affected by his words, by his protective nature. Even as deprived and awful, inhumane as his version of justice could be perceived as, she was excited by it. Flattered. His face got closer to hers, bracing with his arm against the door.

“I mean it.” His words were a shaky exhale. “I mean every fucking word.” His hands slipped further under the fabric, her hot skin melting his icy interiors yet again. “Anyone touches you… anyone even thinks about stroking this perfect skin… tasting your mouth…. Harming a single hair on your head. I’d end them.” He pressed closer, fingers finding the nape of her neck. “I’d kill for you, baby. D’you know that?” Harry doubted that she would ever actually know the full extent of what he would do for her. How close she had him to being on his knees at her wish.

She nodded, their noses brushing together. Harry smiled, not a normal one but what she could consider almost feral. Hot. Her thighs trembled as she couldn’t recall anyone else who had been able to gain such a reaction from her body. Their interactions were always something she felt fully, but his intensity was ringing in her ears, throbbing through her body. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that he would.

“I almost did tonight. I meant every word. And I’ll do the same back in Vegas. I’ll find who is tracking you… I’ll send them to meet Hades myself. And then… then I’m going to take you on a proper vacation. I’m going to take you to a beach and fuck you on the sand, I’m going to fuck you on my bike, I’m going to do everything you deserve.  I know I don’t deserve you. But I’m a selfish son of a bitch, Bunny. I’m mean, I fight, I do illegal shit, I’ve got blood on my hands and targets on my back, but I’m keeping you anyway.” Their breathing mingled as he tried to control himself but it was slipping.

His lips pressed against hers hard, feeling her fists on his shirt to pull him closer. It was no use.

“I will burn the entire fucking city down to make sure you’re safe. I’ve never been afraid of anything. Death, fire, pain. But I’m fucking terrified of losing you.”

Time stood still as the two of them stood barely a step into their hotel room. Harry cradled her with his arm, unable to get enough of his skin on her own. Her shivers only drove him all the more insane, he was hypnotized by the feeling she brought him, the comfort of her existence was something he felt himself continuously getting drunk on. He didn’t want to stop himself, he couldn’t. Not when every moment felt like it could be their very last.

“I’m not going anywhere, Harry. I’ll always find you.” Bunny knew there was very little could do, but on the off chance that this fucker managed to find her she would leave as many clues for Harry as she possibly could. No way would she let some monster get in the way of this beautiful blossoming relationship. “Even if it hurts me.” She whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips. She was hungry to taste them again, it was the perfect remedy for the comedown of shock. What if she wanted it to hurt?

“Please let go just for tonight… just take me how you want to.” She would do just about anything to get him back to a relaxed state again. This feral look on his face awakened something in her, he’d previously mentioned he’d been holding back. There was something about the dark breathy chuckle he let out that had her mind reeling.  “I’m serious.” Bunny felt her heart rate picking up as he toyed with the delicate skin of her neck. “Please.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” He whispered, trying to keep that curated delicacy he had reserved for her at hand- but failing. Failing miserably.

“I do.” She whispered back, arching into him. “You’re upset. You want to prove that I’m yours?” There was danger in taunting him. The girl knew that. But she wanted him to break down, to give in to those urges again. The last time had been so, so good. She could still feel the slight ache but she wanted more. Greedy. She was so incredibly greedy for every lick and drop of affection, his real self she could get. Her hand reached for his, pulling it towards the front of her throat to collar it.

“Fuck me, Harry. Own me. Use my body, mark me, make everyone know.” She bleated, eyes wide for him. “Please?” Her lips pressed against his. “Please, please, please. Just for tonight- make me ache. You know my limits. Push them.”

“Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.” Harry breathed through his nose, trying so hard not to give in to her even though she was offering herself up on a silver platter. The feeling of his hand around her throat was something that’d felt natural, her kiss tempting him even more. She knew just how to get him to succumb to her desires but there was still that bit of fear.

Sure, the other night they dabbled into the territory. A few good slaps, her slipping into subspace. This, however, was a whole other beast. Harry could be truly sadistic, relentless in the way he fucked women. While his girl had proven to be the perfect slut for him, he still worried that he would lose himself. There would always be more caution in this because he cared about her, he adored her, her life meant something to him. It just made him worry a little about self control when she taunted him. Especially when he was in a mood like this. Where he knew he wouldn’t stop himself from absolutely ruining her.

“I want you to.” Bunny was confident that she could take it. The slaps yesterday were manageable, hot, even and with the right aftercare, she was positive there was nothing he could do that would truly hurt her. Harry in his feral state was terrifying, yes, but a thrill that made her sopping wet. She was the object of his desire, surely the aggression he would lay upon her would translate differently than it had with anyone before her.

“Want you to show me the real you… want to know what it’s like, I can handle it.” She had opened up for him so nicely, let him see her slip into the softest of spaces. She had hoped to see him enter his own headspace, one where they could interact together.

“God….” Harry rolled his head back on his shoulders, his erratic breathing amplified by her fingers pressing over his own, making him squeeze. It got his attention right away. Damn it all to hell. The woman had a road map to the paths to drive him wild the quickest, the buttons installed in the tips of her little fingers.

She moaned. The vibration of it stung his palm. She was serious. Her head rolling back on the door as she hated herself to him with her eyes fluttering at the feeling. She was showing him, taunting him, and Harry could feel the tether to his rational being fraying.

“You… can handle it?” His lips curled up in one of the most cruel little smirks she had ever seen. “The soft, sweet little slut can handle it? Just a bit of slapping has you slipping. You really think you can manage it? When I make a mess out of you?”

Her nod made him narrow his eyes, watching as she blinked up at him. Did she?

He tested the waters, gathering saliva under his tongue and spitting it right on her closed lips, getting a surprised gasp from her. A flinch. “Lick your lips. Clean it up.” He stood straighter, seeming to loom over her. She stood with wide eyes, looking like she was going to speak before he took his fingers from behind her and lightly smacked her cheek.

“I didn’t fucking ask you to speak.  Did I?” Her head shook, a tiny whimper making him laugh before continuing on. “No, I didn’t. I know you get a little brainless when I touch you, all you can think about is cock… but I gave you instruction. Try again.” He hissed, feeling his cock throb at how quickly she let her tongue rub over her lips. Pink brushing over the glistening pair of lips wet with his spit, she slowly dragged the muscle over the pout.

“There we are. Pretty little pet does have some sense floating up there.” He cooed, thumbing the rest she couldn’t get over the rest of her chin and rubbing it into the skin.

There was a pause, his eyes softening for a moment as he checked in. “My messy baby. Are you sure you can handle it? Y’know I adore you.” He pressed a soft kiss to her wet mouth, a direct contrast to his previous actions. “You’re my girl but… I’m gonna be mean to you. You know how to get me to stop, yeah?” It had to be abundantly clear. There wouldn't be unnecessary risks of losing her trust.

Bunny nodded her head, not wanting to risk speaking and making him unnecessarily angry. Just one word, that’s all it would take for him to stop. She decided to take his word for it and behave while she was still grounded in reality, god knows what she’s getting herself into when she was drunk on him and his cock. He’d given her a taste of it last time, blown her expectations out of the water, but she was his greedy girl after all.

His actions had shaken her up just enough for wetness to start pooling in her panties. She loved seeing him in this state, it was so animalistic. He was only focused on one thing and that was pleasure— in this case, his own. She would happily give herself to him a million times over if this meant he could get it out of his system. If it was anything like before she knew she’d enjoy it.

He’d never been mean to her before, it would definitely be a new feeling. However, it was all in the name of sex. Sex makes you say all sorts of things, it’s part of its nature. It’s a connection people can’t properly put into words. Bunny was eager to explore their connection even further and prove their trust.

“That’s a good girl.” He sighed, stroking over her hair before wrapping it around his fist. “Come.”

There was no other option- but Y/N didn’t mind. She followed, relishing in the slight prickling pain on her scalp as he stayed true to his word and led her like a naughty pup over to the bed.

“You’re such a nice girl. It really is such a shock to me that you love acting like a depraved whore.” He said with a chuckle. “Y’know, I thought… the first time we saw each other again, you were so sweet looking. Grown up, not a little girl, but sweet. That big smile and sparkling pretty eyes, bouncing on your feet. And then, later in the night… you crawled up on my lap. Tried to tempt me, with your brother just feet away. That’s when I knew there had to be something with you. Something that made you dirty, just like me.”

He undid his belt with his free hand, the sound of the leather snapping out of the belt loops making her whimper. His start was intense, intently on her eyes as he released her hair. “Wrists in front of you.”

There was no second request. She did it quickly, letting herself feel the warm leather wrap snugly around her wrists and through them. There was a shot of jealousy when she realized she was not the only one he had done this to. No- Harry must have done this dozens of times because of how well he did it, but she kept her mouth shut as he secured her.

“There.” One last tug and she was secure enough to not escape, but easy enough for Harry to be able to undo it quickly. “What a fucking vision you are, darling. Look at you.” His voice aired out, walking in a circle around her. Reaching into his pocket, he steadied himself behind her. His nose brushed her neck, inhaling the scent of her. This was enough to get him drunk. The perfume, her soap, the scent that could only be her…. Biting down on the flesh in a nip to make her yelp.

“Too good. Too fucking good for me, and yet…. You let me do such filthy things to you. I wonder what everyone would think if they knew how eager you were to get my cock in your mouth. So quickly after we agreed I’d be your boyfriend… taunting me. Almost crying because I didn’t give you my cum. And now? Now you want it dripping down your thighs.”

There was a metallic slice in the air, Bunny stiffening as she felt cool metal brush her chest. The flag of his pocket knife. “If they knew you shivered in anticipation while having a knife held to you. You know how nasty you’ve got to be, darling?” He laughed, the heat of it making her shiver again. “Oh, that’s why you’re so perfect for me, little Bunny.”

She gasped as he sliced through the upper part of her top in a swift motion, using his hands to rip the rest off. “But what good is having a beautiful slut at my beck and call if she’s clothed?”

The anticipation was killing her, all her senses heightened. She’d been waiting for him to bring the knife out again, but the unexpected action had her feeling warm. There was something that washed over her, a feeling reminiscent of embarrassment but was much more pleasurable. Sitting there exposed to him, clothes cut, unable to move her hands. The danger of it all was too appealing, Harry played the part well. Though, he wasn’t playing at all.

Harry noticed her breathing pick up, the way her chest was heaving made his cock stir in his jeans. He let the blade of the knife trace down her denim-clad leg, teasing her with the sensation before the tip met the zipper. “I bet you’re soaked under these, my perfect whore. Always ready for me to stuff you.” He was debating cutting the jeans off of her but decided against it, using one hand to unbutton them and pull them down.

Harry wasted no time in slicing her panties off, a dark laugh leaving his lips at her gasp. “Always liked that move, hm? Filthy slut. Open.” He commanded, waiting for her jaw to drop down before stuffing her mouth full of her panties. “Don’t trust you to stay quiet so I think this will do.”

It was degrading, absolutely, but there was just something about the way Harry could make it feel good. The humiliation swam in her stomach pooling down to her cunt, the damp spot on the fabric pressed against her tongue.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” He ran the cold metal over her thighs, over her mound ever so carefully to get it wet before moving in front of her. His eyes were dark, tongue licking up the flat of the blade and groaning at the taste. “Yeah. You can see why I love being parked right between these gorgeous thighs. If you weren’t such a baby, you’d stop complaining about being over-sensitive and let me lick you up. But…” he tossed the knife to the side. “I think….” His hand pushed her to fall on the bed. “It’s time for a proper taste. I’ve got you gagged, bound… I can lick you up, and prepare you for my cock. How does that sound?” He turned his back towards her to the drawer beside the bed, where he had left the cleaned and unpackaged toys. “Oh, that’s right. Y’can’t reply.” The snarky reply somehow left her feeling a bit more hot. How did he manage that?

“Gonna make you so sensitive, and you’re just going to lay there and take it. You loved being my fucktoy last time, so let’s see.” Standing between her legs, he tugged her by the ankles toward the end of the bed while he ignored her muffled squeak.  “Three kicks with your foot if it’s too much. Otherwise? Don’t complain.” Establishing a safe system was imperative regardless of verbal ability.

Bunny felt her cunt throbbing but resisted the urge to squeeze her thighs together. It wouldn’t do her any good, not when Harry was standing there looking down at her cunt as if it was his first and last meal all at once. He took his sweet time, picking up one of her legs so he could kiss and bite his way down to her core.  He loved the way she reacted to him, her sensitivity made him crave her that much more. Her scent had him forgetting what he had initially planned to do, eyes zeroing in on her puffy slick folds. Harry’s hands gripped around her thighs, lowering himself till he was kneeling on the floor.

With the panties gagging her, Bunny assumed her moans would be silenced. Instead, she was met with muffled sounds that only elevated the feeling of Harry’s tongue lapping her up. It was an erotic blend, the sound of slurping and sucking making her legs twitch. He was so good at this. Creating environments built to break her down little by little.

He was relentless.

Of course that was a given, but it seemed he was even more desperate tonight to get her, to get every bit of her slick on his tongue and she couldn’t keep quiet, even with her gag. He wasn’t holding back, licking up from her entrance to her clit before spitting back down and using his hand to gently smack over her.

When she squealed, Harry’s wet mouth grinned, filthy promise written in his eyes as he smacked harder over her clit and watched her hips buck up. “Slut for pain. Like when I do that to you?” He shook his head, picking up the toy and dragging up her wet folds. “I hope that extends to some overstimulation. I want you to cry for me today. Good tears. Tears only I can ever get out of you.”

Turning it on he felt her jump, the lower setting making her squirm as he situated it right on her clit whilst his finger slipped into her cunt. “Drooling little hole you’ve got… you’re lucky you love this so much. It’s going to make it far easier for us when I’m fucking you.”

The woman’s breathing was staggered, her stomach clenching at the tension he was creating. It hurt so good, the burn paired with a deep lull of pleasure creeping throughout her body. The gentle vibration of the toy was tormenting her, if only he had turned it up even just one degree she swore it wouldn’t be as agonizing as this.

Whimpers managed to push through the fabric lodged in her mouth, her thighs twitching in his grasp. She was trying her best not to squirm, breathing heavily through her nose as she mentally coached herself through the pleasure. Her cunt squeezed around his fingers, desperate to be filled by his cock once again. He said he was being mean, there would be no point begging. She did tell him he could do what he wanted. Bunny would be good.

“What a perfect fucking whore, I can feel you squeezing me. Want more?” Harry mocked, rubbing the pads of his fingers over her precious g-spot. He was slow with the movements, coaxing more of those delicious little moans out of her. “Should’ve known you could take it— don’t you dare cum before I say so.” He didn’t want to stop touching her, he intended to flood her senses for a good while before giving her her first of many orgasms.

Harry clicked the toy up a speed, chuckling darkly at the way her body jolted. “So sensitive, so greedy…” He just about growled into her thigh, teeth sinking into the skin enough to satisfy him. The man could tell she was gone, but he didn’t want to stop it. Not when she was taking it so well, not when she so clearly wanted more.

She yelped against the fabric, body jerking as his teeth marked her. He hadn’t been joking when he had said he was going to go for it. While he’s bitten her before, this one was a claiming one. Dark and hard and a promise of more, making her drip for him.

“So-ee.” The poor attempt of ‘Sorry’ was muffled through a gag, apologizing from her jolt. His eyes glazed up at her, shaking his head but continuing his slight torture.

Harry loved to see her wet like this. To see the wet juices of her cunt coat his fingers and drip down her folds, all the way down to her ass. Soon enough it would mark the bedcover, and he couldn’t wait for that. His cock was aching, pulsing in his briefs but he was satisfying a different urge.

“Sorry? Mm… Slutty thing is sorry she can’t take a bite. What are we going to do with you?” Adding another finger, her legs twitched as her toes curled, the sloshing, wet sound of them fucking into her the music he needed to hear to his ears. “Don’t fucking cum.” He warned, pressing the vibrator harder against her clit. “Don’t do it. I know you’ve got a filthy set of holes back here, but have some self control.” He could feel it, the beginnings of clenches around his fingers and her thighs trembling as she began to protest behind the gag.

She almost did it. The pain had buzzed on to pleasure as his joined fingers curled right against a spot that had her stomach jumping, but he could tell. Immediately, her muddled moans were disrupted by a screech. His hand yanked away the toy, his fingers pulling out and the wet palm of his hand coming rough roughly onto her cunt.

“What did I say? Did I not just fucking tell you to hold it? You were going to do it anyway.” Again, his hand came down right over her clit, the sharp sting making her writhe under him.  Again. And again. The stringing of slaps to her most intimate area hurt, but they felt good. So good, and Bunny could feel tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

With a glare, Harry’s fingers pulled her spit soaked panties from her mouth and held her jaw roughly, speaking to her through a cruel smile. “Does it hurt too bad?” He cooed, shaking her head back and forth before he narrowed his eyes. “Or…Did you like that? Did my pretty little pain slut like having her cunt smacked around?” He asked, wiping his wet fingers on her cheek. Y/N was stupified, eyes wide and wet and mouth open as she tried to find the words. “Yes or no, Bunny. Use those words. Or did Daddy take them away from you so quickly?”

“Yes, I liked it, Daddy.” Bunny could feel her face heating up as she breathed out her answer. Admitting it to him always made her feel so shy, even more so than being spread out like this. Her body belonged to him, she never wanted to hide from him after the first time. But saying she liked his twisted methods of domination was another story.  She used all the strength she had to hold herself up, using this opportunity to take in his expression. His face was wet—covered in her arousal, and his eyes were dark with pure lust. Primal desire, he couldn’t help himself. Every bit of her struggle to manage the immense pleasure sent him further into the headspace. He swore he could swallow her whole if she’d let him.

“Yeah? You like it, gorgeous?” Harry cooed, noticing the floaty look in her eyes. She was just as far gone as he was, he was glad she had convinced him to give in. His perfect girl, she really could take it.

“I do... I do, I love it.” She mewled, seeking his approval as she looked at him with glassy eyes and pouty lips. “Love e-everything you do to me. I want to make you happy.”

Harry felt that tiny bit of softness leak through the primitive layer, making him pet over her face softly before it melted away. She was dazed, looking like a baby deer- his helpless little Bunny. “I know you do. I could do anything I wanted and you’d thank me for it.” He sighed, shaking his head before pressing his lips to hers. A hint of softness before he had her.

“I could take this little toy….” He took the vibrator, switching it back on to a higher setting and placing it on her clit as he loomed over her shivering body, her mouth open and wet as she took uneven inhales. “And I could tape it to you. I could keep this little thing connected to your poor little clit and make you cum over and over for me until you can’t take it. And you’d thank me.”

A tear dripped down her cheek as she tried to hold back, the orgasm quickly rising as he had found the perfect spot, the perfect pace. “H-sir, sir- please let me cum, please, please, please.” She wrung her hands in the belt, the bite of the leather making her moan. “I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it, I wanna be good-“

And then, it was gone. A sob left her throat, frustration raising as Harry’s smirking face was her only vision.

“That was a cute beg. I liked it.” His smile resembled a wolf. Hunting her down, playing with his food. “Let’s try it again.”

Edging.

“No, no, no— Please!” Bunny cried, thrashing slightly in disapproval. “Please, please, please, please—“

Smack.

“Quiet,” Harry commanded, his voice stern as his hand roughly gripped her face. With furrowed brows he stared down at her, daring her to look away. “You were doing so well, what happened?” He kissed his teeth, dropping her from his grip. “If you want to cum you have to listen to me, brat.” He was testing his own patience. Hearing her beg was a weakness of his, but he wanted to prove a point.

Bunny simply nodded, bottom lip quivering for a moment. She wanted to cum so bad she could cry, the smack he placed across her cheek only fueling the fire in her core. “I’m sorry, sir.” She squeaked, blinking away her needy tears in hopes that he would touch her.

“Can I have a kiss? Please.” Her voice changed momentarily, needing him to ground her and remind her that she was doing well despite his harshness.

It was a moment of clarity, her shaky voice bleeding into a slightly unsure tone that had him softening up nearly immediately. It was good to know that his body truly could tell a difference. His fingers stroked her cheek where he had smacked, eyes gentle as he tipped her chin up and pressed their lips together for a loving kiss. “Doing so well for me. Can’t believe how well you’re taking this.” He murmured against her lips. “You’re okay?” The last thing he wanted to do was upset her seriously.

Thankfully she nodded, puckering her lips for a few more kisses which he readily gave to her before he could sense her melting back into position. “There. Good girl. Just tell me if you need me to stop, you know the safe word.” He gently tapped the tip of her nose before he let that dark mask take back over.

She was in awe of how he could do it. How he could be so loving and tender to her and then call her all the names in the book- and even more so because she loved it. Ate up every single piece of it

Without a word, he slipped his hand under her jaw to keep her eyes on him while the other flipped the vibrator back on. “You can cum this time. Then I think you’ll be nice and open for my dick. I want to see you be the pretty, needy little brat. Talk to me. Because as soon as I’m inside you, you’re not going to be able to.” He nudged their noses together. “Because you get so dumb on my cock. I love every bit of it. But someone’s got to remind you who you belong to.”

She belonged to him.

Everyone in this hotel would know that by the end of the night, Harry would make sure of it. Granting her permission to make noise, he knew there was no reason for her to hold back. He himself was tired of the muffled sounds, he wanted to hear her loud and clear.

“Thank you, sir, I-aH” Bunny’s breath hitched, relaxing into the feeling with a low whine. He had started it off deliciously slow again, though the pain from his previous torment had built up. She was sensitive.

“Just wanna cum, wanna show you how good you make me feel.” Bunny’s hands instinctually went to cup her tits but forgot about her bound wrists. She cursed him in her head, quickly losing herself in the pleasure as he turned the toy up another speed.

“Please slap my tits, want you to bite me again— I wanna cum for you over and over and over like you said, sir.” She was gone, far gone.  “I’m your good girl, I promise.”

Harry loved this. He loved every bit of it.

This woman called to every single part of him, making him feel slightly feral as she spoke. This was his best friend’s little sister, the woman he was supposed to protect, and yet she was here telling him to slap her tits, bite her, to make her cum. It was wrong in many senses of the word but Harry had found that part of that made it feel even better.

He growled under his breath, doing exactly as he wanted. “That’s what I wanted.” He chuckled, slapping her bare breast before pinching her nipple. The noise that came from her swollen mouth was unlike what he’d heard before, but it continued when he pulled on it. It was visible in her face, she was wrecked already and he wanted to get her there. Make her babble again, her shaking legs struggling to stay open as he leaned down to bite right on the swell of her breast.

Bunny let out another desperate mewl, the bite hurting so fucking good she was close to seeing stars. “Please, please, I’m a good girl. I’m a good girl for you, I’m yours, keep biting me- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna….” Her frantic squeaks were paired with a dark noise from Harry’s throat, moving to her neck to bite down on the soft curve of her shoulder. As soon as his teeth dug in, she lost it.

The vibrations, the pain of them, his fingers twisting and pinching her breast, the perfect mixture to make her cum. A wail left her plushy mouth as Harry rutted slightly against her thigh, pulling his teeth away to watch her face scrunch in pleasure.

She could feel pins and needles in her legs, crying as she came. The work up to the orgasm, the restraint, his closeness, she was greedy and got one of her wishes.

Bunny sighed in satisfaction, her body convulsing as she rode out the orgasm. “Fuck! Ah-“ She hissed, finally feeling the buzzing of the vibrator on her clit. It seemed that Harry wasn’t satisfied with just the one. “It hurts, Daddy.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him to turn it off though.

“Shh, give it a few moments, pet…” Harry mumbled against her skin, knowing if she waited long enough the pain would turn to pleasure. It took a few more moments and whines from her till he felt her hips buck up against the toy. “That’s it, give me another one like the greedy little whore you are.” He let his mouth move back down to her chest, sucking at the skin before finding another perfect patch to bite.

Her skin was so warm and smooth against him, though he was starting to get annoyed at the layers he still had on. He hadn’t even bothered to rid himself of his clothes, getting carried away in the moment. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of her either.

“Can I? Fuck— can I cum again? It feels so good, can I, can I, can I—“ Bunny’s breathing was picking up again, eyes squeezing shut as if that would stop the quickly building climax from ripping through her. “I can’t hold it, please say yes, please—”

Pulling off her nipple, his hand smacked against her breast before he barked out the order.

“Cum.”

She felt like she wasn’t in her own body, on her way out. Halfway in. She was hot, sweat on her brow as she shuddered under him. It was fuzzy, her eyes clenching shut as her mouth opened in a silent screech.

Harry loved watching her cum. How her body arched, how she shook, her jaw clenching and her chest heaving. He was going to make sure he could keep this vision exclusively his for the rest of his life.

“That’s it, that’s my fucking girl.” He praised, laughing in disbelief as he felt her gush a little on his hand that held the toy. Messy, wet, everything he had been going for. He knew when it was starting to get too much, her squirm and whine signaling him for the right moment to stop. Pulling it off, he tossed it to the side and pressed their lips together, peppering filthy praises between the kisses.

“My fucking girl. So pretty when you cum for me. You drive me crazy. I’m so obsessed with you.” He panted, pulling back and taking her bound hands, and untying the belt off of her wrists.  They looked a little irritated, making him take a second to stroke over them and bring them together to kiss the irritated skin. “M’not sorry, precious. You loved it.”

He was quick to dispose of the rest of his clothes, kicking them whenever they landed. He just wanted her. She was boneless on the bed, his gorgeous woman, panting as she looked at him with wet cheeks and clenched thighs he had to pry back open.

“C’mon,Baby. Up.” He lifted her towards the top of the bed. settling her onto the pillows, her hair haloed across the linen pillowcases, her bitten lips plump and dark, cheeks wet with her tears from the pleasure. His angelic picture with a frame sent from hell.

“You can touch me now, but I need to be inside of you.”

“I want you,“ Bunny’s hands immediately flew up to his hair, tugging at the roots with vigor. She had been itching to do it since the minute his tongue swiped over her clit, her grip so tight she swore her knuckles were white. “Inside. Right now.” She was still breathless, lifting her head to connect their lips once again.

She loved to kiss him. She would be happy just kissing him forever, but why would she want to when he could fuck her like this? “You’re so hot,” She whined against him, “please put your cock in me. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Bunny let one of her hands trail down his back, nails digging into the skin to inflict a bit of pain and emphasize her words. She needed his cock. “Call me greedy, I don’t care, I want it so bad— I wanna make a mess all over you. Want to feel you,” She trailed off, her eyes glazed over with desire. Her hand moved to grab his, placing it over the softest part of her belly. “Here.”

He had definitely broken her a bit. That shy, soft spoken spirit with a hint of tease had gone full blown need, showing her hand as she broke,  egging him for it. Whining. She liked to be manhandled, she liked how regardless of his rough actions he took time to praise and check in and it drove her mad.

His hand flexed on her stomach, a fire flaring through his body.  His Bunny begging him for it, not a hint of hesitation- it did something for him. A new wick lit inside, engulfing the rest of him in flames.  It triggered a thought. One that would have repulsed him had it been quite literally anyone else…but the girl under him had a way of making him completely and utterly ruin any walls he had up. Rubble on the pavement.

He obliged, settling between her legs and brushing the dripping, ruddy tip of his engorged cock through her slick and puffy lips. It was so easy to get wet enough, wasting little time as he began to push in.

“Then take it.” He whispered, sliding his hand under her neck to hold her there. Right at the nape, eyes watching as hers watered at the stretch. “You want me in your belly, baby? Want to be full of me?” Lips brushed hers. “You are such a needy, desperate little bitch. Y’know that? I adore every part of it. Makes me even more glad that you’re mine… but…” he hissed as she welcomed him in, finding his home deep seated in her cunt with his balls up against her ass. “When you do things like that, makes me want to breed you.” Their mingled breathing paused as Bunny’s caught in her throat. “Ought t’knock you up. Keep you full….. because you’re mine. You know it… but the world should know too, shouldn’t it? Should know *exactly* who you belong to.”

Y/N whined, wide eyed looking at him as her body reacted to the ultra possessive claim. He’s always been a domineering man, but something about such a permanent claim had them both hot. It would be the worst timing, but her legs tightened around him to keep him close.

“Please.” The bleated word hit his lips. “I- yes. Yes. I want it, I want you in my belly. Please do it.”

Harry snickered at her pleading, feeling his cock grow impossibly heavy inside her. She was begging for his load, to have his child. Part of him knew she was just spacey, but he decided he’d let himself imagine she truly meant it for the moment. Would hurt right?

“Asking so nicely, like a good little slut.” He purred, the same feral smile returning to his face. His hips pulled back only to snap back inside her with a guttural moan leaving his throat. “Fucking love your cunt,” He set a slow pace for himself, wanting to meld his cock into every part of her walls. “Think I could spend days inside of you and still never get enough…. And you’re squeezing me so tight, you still aren’t satisfied?”

“No, too slow.” Bunny breathed, at her wit's end. Feeling full of him wasn’t cutting it in this state, she was feigning. Her hips bucked up on her own, her back arching to lean further into him. Her bratty self wasn’t taking too well to this position. He was still going easy on her. “Don’t tease me anymore, know you want to fuck me stupid. Make me hurt. Show me how you want it.”

What she hadn’t expected, though, was the sting in her scalp as he gripped her hair and kept her face still as he filled her to the brim, stopping the thrusts.

No. No, she needed more.

“I think you forget who’s in charge here.” He snarled. “No matter how good your cunt is, I’m the one who owns it. Making demands?” He laughed through his nose. “I’ll do as I damn well please.” His cock pulled back out to the tip before slamming back in, making the bed lurch and hit the wall.

She swore she saw stars, a scream leaving her lips as he repeated it again. Deep, so fucking deep that she didn’t know what to do with herself.

“Where did my good whore go? I love that beg but-“ he gave another devastating thrust, making her pant, nails digging into his back roughly. “You turned into a brat. Lucky I need to empty my balls and you’ve got a perfect hole for it, or I’d take it away from you.”

Her grip was strong enough to break skin, nails clawing down the length of his back with primal need.

Harry groaned at the feeling, the burn adding to his arousal. He liked the pain she was inflicting upon him but needed to be closer, deeper.

Without much of a warning, he pulled out and flipped her around, slamming back into her with such force the bed frame smacked against the wall again.

“No more words, Princess? Already gone dumb on my cock?” Harry couldn’t stop his hips from pistoning in and out of her with force. The feeling of her milking him was far too good, he’d teased himself enough and it was time to give in. “Take it. Every, last, bit.” His voice grew dark, pushing himself up off of her so he could take in his view.

Beautiful supple skin ready to be marked in any way he pleased. Her ass was something he couldn’t resist. “Wanted to plug you up today, make you squirm till you begged for me to fill both of your holes.” Thwack. Harry paused to admire the trace left over on her skin. “I couldn’t wait. I knew you couldn’t either— filthy little slut. You’re dripping f’me.” He smirked, placing another heavy handed smack on the opposite cheek.

She didn’t know how good it would feel.

There had been a feeling. With how he had smacked her before, how he had held her a bit rough. She knew that she liked pain and liked to see him in a darker, dominant headspace- but she hadn’t expected to feel the stinging prickles on her cheek and have it travel down to her cunt, showing clearly now as he fucked into her. His smacks had made her moan, the garbled noise fueling him further. His fingers brushed over her hot skin gently and massaged the flesh as his cock pounded into her. A contrast to the heavy thrusts stealing her breath and the slamming of the headboard into the wall behind them.

“Fu-uck. I can’t- I….” She choked on her words as he shifted, one leg over her hip while he stayed between his thighs with the other one. Her ass was spread open with his hand, thumb pressing into her hole as she squealed and thrashed under him.

It was too much. Both her holes being filled, the jostling of her body, being tossed around with her face in the sheets, she came without permission. Screaming muffled into the fabric as her face was stained with sweat and tears, noises punched out of her as he didn’t let up.

If anything? It spurred him on.

The steady sound of the headboard smacking against the wall kept the two of them anchored in reality. They paid no mind to the slow cracking in the bed frame, instead, Harry found himself sinking deeper into a new headspace.

“Greedy girl,“ He growled lowly, his voice settling in the thick air of the room. The smell of sin was enough for him to feel high. “Can’t wait for permission?” Another smack reverberated throughout the room. “You‘ll give me another.” He demanded.

Bunny opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Unable to form a single sentence, she screamed while writhing beneath him. Everything felt fuzzy, her vision blurry, her body completely open. His words made her cunt clench, surprising herself with how much she could take. Her body was begging for more. Her head turned so she could catch her breath, attempting to stabilize herself with her grip on the sheets and mattress. It was no use.

“Knew you’d shut up.” Harry was feral. “Keep screaming, slut. This is exactly what you wanted wasn’t it?”

It was, it was exactly what the both of them wanted- and they wouldn’t be stopping.

Not until it was 3 in the morning, the bed had broken, and their muscles ached.

And a hole in the wall from the bed frame- but that would be a problem for when they woke up. So would Harry’s raised and bleeding scratch marks, the bruising on Y/N’s hips and wrists, the lack of voice she was going to have from screaming when he hit it just right- but that was tomorrow’s problem. Right now, it was time to relish in their unfiltered, unadulterated passion.

Who knew when they’d get this opportunity again?

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Twin Flame - Lost Outtake #1

A.N. - Alright, I know I finished this story months ago... but I've been cleaning up my drafts and I found a few lost scenes. I don't even know if I should go back and add them to the timeline or post them, but I just needed you guys to see the angst.

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes The Twin Flame Chapter List | The Grumpy x Sunshine Universe

"I had a vision, I don't know if you're gonna believe it-" Tony's voice abruptly stops as he watches your face appear on the screen before him. Just one more person gone, another name on the long list of people gone - but that loss cuts him deeper than he could've ever imagined.

"Tony, I'm gonna need you to focus."

Anger floods Tony's eyes as they dart away from you and back to Steve.

"And I needed you. As in past tense. I think that trumps what you need. It's too late, buddy. Sorry." Tony stands up from his wheelchair, swiping his glass off the conference room table. "You know what I need, I need to shave."

"Tony," Rhodey tries to stop him as Tony rips out his IV. "Tony."

"And I believe I remember telling you that what we needed was a suit of armor around the world. Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not. That's what we needed."

"Well that didn't work out, did it?" Steve reminds him.

"I said we'd lose. You said we'd do that together too. And guess what, Cap? We lost. And you weren't there. But that's what we do, right? Our best work after the fact. We're the Avengers, not the Pre-vengers, right?"

"Okay, alright, you made your point now sit down," Rhodey cajoles him, gripping his shoulder to keep him steady.

"I got nothing for you, Cap. No coordinates. No clues. No strategies. No options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar," he spits at Steve.

"Tony..." Steve tries.

Tony shakily exhales, "No, no, you weren't there...and we lost. I lost the kid."

"Tony."

"And Sunshine? Gone." He looks at the screen again. Your picture haunting him. Tony tears off the arc reactor, shoving it in Steve's hand. "The last time I saw her, she was behind bars. She disappeared thinking I hated her."

Steve's eyes squeeze shut, the memory of the fear shining in your eyes never not replaying in his mind. "Sunshine fought so-"

"You don't get to call her that! Don't you dare call her that! She trusted you! She trusted you and now she's gone!" Tony's voice breaks as his eyes burn with unshed tears. He tears his shoulder out of Rhodey's grip, pointing an accusing finger right into Steve's chest. "I will never get to make that right. And that is your fault."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist The Twin Flame Chapter List

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarnes @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky@roseproseposts @theoraekenslover@king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme @bxckybxrnes24 @guiltyasreid @bellabarnes1378 @blithecapricorn @mrsnikstan @marvelatthem

[crazerk]

Just wanted to share a snippet from the update. I’m experimenting with POV switches and it’s kinda long cause I don’t know how to not ramble even if there was a gun pointed at my head.

It’s still unfinished, and unpolished as I’ll be adding character specific details and editing and whatnot later, or maybe cutting the entire scene altogether. But anyway please enjoy :)

Also it contains some SPOILERS.

Valide Zarayan reclined on plush silk cushions, her eyes scanning the crowd with razor-sharp focus. To the casual observer, she appeared the picture of regal serenity - her elaborately coiffed hair adorned with glittering jewels, her gown a masterpiece of embroidery and precious stones. But beneath that placid exterior, a storm brewed.

Her gaze inevitably returned to her son, seated at the head of the gathering. He was resplendent in robes of deep sapphire blue, the imperial crown glinting atop his dark curls. He looked like his father in certain lights, the same firm set to his jaw, the same commanding presence.

Yet something in his bearing gave her pause. There was a tightness around his eyes, a slight tension in the set of his shoulders that only a mother would notice.

"More wine, Your Majesty?" A servant approached, crystal decanter in hand.

Khazunef nodded absently, barely glancing at the man as his goblet was refilled. His eyes remained fixed on the troupe of performers twirling before him - acrobats and fire-eaters whose daring flips drew gasps of awe from the assembled courtiers. But Zarayan could see that her son's applause was courteous at best, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

She leaned in close, pitching her voice low. "Is something troubling you, my son? You seem... distracted."

Khazunef's gaze flickered to her briefly before returning to the spectacle before them. "Not at all, mother. The feast is magnificent, as always. You've outdone yourself."

His tone was polite, but there was an underlying coolness that made Zarayan's heart clench. Gone was the bright-eyed boy who had once delighted in such pageantry. In his place sat a man burdened by the weight of an empire.

"The High Priest has predicted favorable omens," Khazunef continued, a hint of genuine relief coloring his words. "And I've received word that the drought in the Western provinces is finally abating."

Zarayan seized the opportunity, raising her voice just enough to be overheard by the nearby nobles. "How delightful. It seems the gods themselves smile upon your reign, my son. Truly, you bring peace and prosperity to our people."

A chorus of sycophantic agreement rose from the surrounding courtiers. Goblets were raised in toast to their young Shah's wisdom and benevolence. Khazunef acknowledged them with a regal nod, but Zarayan could see the way his fingers tightened imperceptibly around the stem of his cup.

She waited for the murmur of conversation to rise once more before leaning in close, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Perhaps this bounty is a sign, my dear. The perfect time to think about securing the future of our dynasty. A family of your own..."

The change was instant. Khazunef's posture stiffened, his jaw clenching as he took a long pull of wine. When he finally spoke, his words were clipped. "The empire's needs are many, mother. My personal affairs can wait."

Zarayan felt a familiar surge of frustration, then anger. Did he not understand the precariousness of their position? The blood that had been spilled to place him on that throne? She wanted to shake him, to make him see reason. But instead she merely inclined her head, a placid smile masking the turmoil within.

"Of course, my son. I only wish for your happiness and the continued strength of our bloodline."

Khazunef waved a dismissive hand. "This is a celebration. I'll hear no more of it."

Zarayan stifled a sigh, biting back a sharp retort. He was as stubborn as ever. She nearly forgot how much he acted like his father as well. She would simply have to find another way to make him see reason.

For now, she would allow him his reprieve. She settled back against the cushions, her smile fixed in place even as her mind raced.

Her thoughts drifted to the past, to a laughing boy with curious eyes who would pepper her with endless questions about the world. Her sweet, happy boy who’s joy she took solace in.

That boy was gone now, replaced by this distant man who wore the crown like a millstone. Zarayan knew the cruelties of court life had shaped him, hardened him. The incident with his brothers – a necessary evil, she reminded herself – had left scars deeper than she had anticipated.

It had to be done, she thought, pushing down the flicker of regret.

If only her son would see that.

A figure in richly embroidered robes approached, bowing low before the royal dais.

"Your Imperial Majesty! Your most gracious Valide!" The man's voice dripped with honeyed flattery. "What a magnificent celebration! Truly, the Sharazad court outshines all others in its splendor."

Zarayan recognized him as Vizier Mahmus, an ambitious climber whose family had only recently risen to prominence. She watched as Khazunef's demeanor shifted, the mask of the implacable ruler sliding seamlessly into place.

"We are pleased you find it to your liking, Vizier," Khazunef replied, his tone coolly cordial. "Tell me, how fare the trade negotiations with the merchant guild?"

As the two men fell into discussion of matters of state, Zarayan allowed her attention to drift.

A peal of silvery laughter caught her ear, and she turned to see Empress Yaris holding court amidst a cluster of fawning noblemen. The woman was undeniably beautiful, her pale skin luminous in the lantern light, her auburn hair adorned with emeralds and gold. But it was the man at her side that made Zarayan's eyes narrow dangerously.

Parvis, Khazunef's uncle, leaned in close to whisper something in Yaris' ear. The Empress' eyes danced with mirth, and she placed a hand on his arm in a gesture that was far too familiar for Zarayan's liking.

The fool did not pull away, no. Parvis placed a possessive hand on the small of Yaris' back, his touch lingering a fraction too long. Zarayan's lip curled in disgust

Parvis had long been a thorn in her side, his influence over her son growing with each passing day. With Khazunef's reluctance to sire an heir, Parvis' ambitions were clear. The man was a snake, and his ambition would be their downfall if left unchecked.

She turned back to her son, who had finally extricated himself from the Vizier's obsequious chatter. "Khazunef," she murmured, careful to keep her voice low. "Perhaps it is time you reminded your wife of the proper decorum expected of an Empress. Her behavior with your uncle is... unseemly."

Khazunef followed her gaze, his expression hardening as he took in the intimate scene. But to Zarayan's surprise, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth

"You think my uncle has designs on my wife?" he asked, an odd note of amusement in his tone.

"Perhaps not," Zarayan huffed. "But it is unseemly, regardless." 

Khazunef seemed unconcerned, taking another sip of his wine. "Perhaps," he murmured. "But I would not interfere. See how they amuse one another? It keeps them out of my way."

The casual dismissal stung Zarayan more deeply than she cared to admit, as well as the complacency of her son. They were not simply amusing each other. They could be planning his death while he sat there, unconcerned. It seemed that her son had blinders when it came to his personal affairs. 

She could not stop the words that escaped her lips, sharp as a dagger's edge. "Do you think a capable ruler would neglect the state of his own household? How can you hope to govern an empire when you allow such blatant disrespect under your own roof?"

Her son froze, his eyes narrowing dangerously. In the dim light he looked like his father again, matching scowls and all. For the briefest of moments Zarayan was Celaena again, in the presence of her tempestuous husband who was about to strike her. 

But her son did not strike her. Instead he took a slow, measured breath. The resemblance to his father faded as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a mask of imperial calm. When he spoke, his voice was low and controlled, but edged with steel.

"Mother," he said, leaning in close to ensure their conversation remained private, "I appreciate your concern, misplaced as it is. But I will not discuss this matter further, especially not here." His eyes flicked meaningfully towards the nearby courtiers. "I suggest you retire for the evening if you cannot maintain proper decorum."

He straightened in his seat, adjusting his robes with practiced nonchalance.

Zarayan bit back the words that rose in her throat, her mind racing. How could she make him understand? His personal affairs were the concern of the entire empire when it came to his lack of heirs. 

She opened her mouth to speak when a familiar figure materialized at her elbow.

"Your Majesty, most esteemed Valide," Orgion, the Chief Eunuch, bowed low. "The new concubines are ready to be presented, as you requested."

Zarayan saw the anger still simmering Khazunef's eyes, his jaw tightening as he glared at Orgion.

"I do not recall making such a request, Chief Eunuch."

Zarayan seized the opportunity to change the subject, forcing lightness into her tone. "Ah yes, how forgetful of me. Khazunef, I hope you don't mind that I've taken this liberty. Your harem is still rather... sparse for a man of your station."

She watched her son carefully, noting the way his jaw clenched again at the reminder of his neglected duties. But he said nothing, merely taking another sip of wine. She gestured for Orgion to continue.

The portly eunuch beamed, practically vibrating with excitement. "Oh, Your Majesty, you will be most pleased! Such beauty, such grace - truly, they are jewels fit for an emperor's crown!"

Khazunef's cool gaze settled on Orgion, and the man's effusive praise died in his throat. He stammered to a halt, mopping his brow nervously.

"If you are quite finished, show me these marvelous women, that we might continue our feast."

Orgion bowed so low he nearly toppled over, then scurried away to make the necessary arrangements. Zarayan allowed herself a small smile of triumph, sending a silent prayer to the gods that this would be the catalyst needed to spark her son's interest in matters of the harem.

[atticsandwich]

burnt toast, sunday

pairing: mephistopheles / gn!mc

slice of life, bonding with mephisto's younger brother, mephisto being a boyfail (endearingly) but he's also a really good older brother

"Don't you have royal babysitters for this kind of thing?"

"Yes and no, but I'd rather have someone I trust to look after my precious little brother."

"So you trust me?"

"Wh...?! Only because Lord Diavolo does!"

or: a babysitting favor-turned-impromptu sleepover party, accidental wingman-er, wingdemon little brother, and poor Mephisto having an internal crisis

[set in the OG timeline, pre-NB]

quick a/n: i cannot for the life of me think of a name for mephisto's brother, so watch how many variations of "little brother" i can use before u get sick of it <3 i like to picture him kinda like a Luke-sized version of Mephisto lol

a/n part 2: erm. i might've accidentally made this a full-fledged fic instead of a quick little drabble help

-

"So let me get this straight," you start, trying to process what the noble demon before you just proposed.

"You want me to babysit your little brother this weekend, because..."

"--Because I need to attend an event, and I have no one else to turn to but you, yes, that's the gist of it," he finishes, both arms on his hip as if he's recounted this to you 5 times over.

(He has.)

"What about your parents?" you inquire.

Sighing, he returns to his seat across from you, like the thought of them gave him a headache.

"Off to who-knows-where in an exclusive excursion. Last time I called they were somehow in Santorini."

"In the Human Realm?!"

"If you're wondering if there are any more demons masquerading as humans up there, no, there aren't. They'd need permission from Lord Diavolo first lest they get hunted down by Barbatos."

"Oh. That's assuring."

"It's a bad look for the Devildom if we leave our denizens unattended. Anyways, back to the topic at hand--"

"Don't you have, like, royal babysitters for that kind of thing?" you interject. "Like, you know, a personal butler?"

"Yes, and no," another sigh escapes him.

"While we do have butlers, they're more for tending to the estate. Plus, I doubt they could tend to my little brother's pasttime interests. I could very well simply hire a royal babysitter, as you would call it, but I'd rather have someone I trust look after my precious brother."

"So... you trust me?" you try to stop yourself from giving him a smug grin, but the chance was too perfect to miss.

"Wh...?! D-Don't twist my words, human! I only say that because Lord Diavolo does!" his face is flushed in embarrassment, clearly taken aback by the quip. He diverts his face away from looking at you, instead suddenly finding the Newspaper Clubroom's accent wall of interest.

Classic.

"Plus, considering your background experience with those brothers, I'd say you're more than qualified for the job."

You hold back from giggling - which he picks up on - much to his annoyance. But you find yourself curious about his home and his brother, who he's mentioned in many separate occasions. You have to admit, you'd also like to meet what kind of brother Mephisto has.

"Alright, I'll do it," you finally say, standing from your seat, fully decided.

"Wh-Really? Oh. Good. Perfect," he tries hiding the way his shoulders relax from stiffness, clearly relieved you finally agreed.

"...On one condition, though."

"Hm? Name your price."

"Ask me again, but this time, say 'pretty please?'"

(And if the students outside that room jumped from the doors suddenly bursting open, with a red-faced demon chasing a laughing human around, cane in hand, well, they'll just chalk it up as another normal day at R.A.D.)

-

"Whad'ya mean you won't be home the whole weekend?!" Mammon's whines fall on deaf ears as he watches you pack your overnight bag. You've already told him about the arrangement a few days prior, but it seems the information just processed now.

"It's not like I'm moving away, Mams."

"But what if you fall in love with his house and decide to stay there forever?!" he whines more, as you let out an amused giggle.

"I'll get you a little souvenir when I get back, okay? We can hang out then."

"Promise?"

"Promise. You won't even notice I'm gone!" you zip up your bag, finishing up your pack. As you do, a knock on your door grabs the attention of both of you.

"Yeah?"

"Um..." the door creaks open, revealing a groggy, half-awake Belphegor. "There's a guy waiting for you outside, I think he's one of Mephistopheles' drivers."

Giving the youngest demon a thumbs up, you stand, slinging your overnight bag on your shoulder. It's not too heavy, and after double checking if everything's in order, you make your way out of your room.

"Ride's here! See ya later Mams! Thanks Belphie!"

You walk past some of the brothers on your way out, bidding your goodbyes as you do, although not before taking a little extra bag full of snacks that Beel insisted you bring with you. Upon reaching the house's front gate, you're greeted by a tall demon, clad in formal wear. He introduces himself as your designated driver sent by Mephisto, and ushers you in the vehicle after you return the introduction.

The ride to Mephisto's estate is quiet, and you occupy your time by scrolling through your D.D.D, updating Lucifer that you just left the house, as he had to leave earlier to finish R.A.D-related paperwork. You also send updates in your group chat with the brothers, as well as the guys from Purgatory Hall - who insisted on getting updates, too.

Before long, the car pulls up to a giant, gilded gate - extravagant feels like an understatement, you think, the intricacy of its details almost reminding you of classic gothic architecture from the Human Realm. The mansion itself isn't something to scoff at either; you already knew Mephisto's family was filthy, stinkin' rich - Mammon's words, not yours - but seeing it yourself is an entirely different story.

The car slows down to a halt, stopping at the manor's front entrance. The driver quickly exits the vehicle to usher you out, before driving off to a separate part of the estate. Mephistopheles is standing by the front door, already dressed up for the event he mentioned.

"Lookin' good, Mephisto! That coat looks great on you," you tease and wave a greeting.

"You've arrived. I trust the drive was pleasant?" rolling his eyes, he pretends not to hear anything you just said.

"Definitely beats walking to here, that's for sure," you say as he opens the door for you, beckoning you inside

"Someone's being a gentleman today!"

"Tch," he furrows his brows in annoyance. "Only because you're a guest, so don't get used to it," You can't help but giggle at the treatment, saying a quick thanks as you walk in.

His manor is huge - the large, open foyer that greets you the second you step in is embellished in gold and marble pillars, with a chandelier befitting its grandeur. A portrait of two demons is its centerpiece, who you can assume are his parents. He leads you through an arched entryway leading to the living room, decorated with a large ornate rug and furniture that looks like it got taken directly from a rococo painting - not to mention the actual rococo-style paintings hanging on its walls.

"As you can tell, this is the living room," he pauses for a bit before continuing. "Although we only really use it if my parents have guests over. Even then, they prefer having tea at the backyard."

"Dude, your house is like, a museum," words fail your thoughts.

"Don't be ridiculous, you've been to the Demon Lord's castle plenty of times for you to still be ogling at some gilded furniture."

"Yeah, but he's like - the prince - and I already expected that anyway since the word castle is in the name, y'know?"

He rolls his eyes, continuing the mini-tour.

"Past that hall is the kitchen, and the dining hall is opposite of it," he points out. "Don't worry about food, though. I've already informed the butlers of your staying. They'll call when food is ready. You can ask tea from them at any time, as well."

"Aw, really? I kinda wanted to try cooking at a fancy mansion..."

"Don't you already do enough cooking at the House of Lamentation?"

"Yeah, but I rather enjoy it - plus, my baking skills are a bonafide way to make any kid like me! Or at least, that's what Luke says..."

He rolls his eyes again, before sighing in resignation. "Knock yourself out then, I'll let the butlers know. They'll inform you where everything is if you ask."

"Heh, thanks Meph." he grimaces at the even-shortened nickname, but lets it slide anyways.

"For the main point of you staying here, my brother's room is upstairs," he leads you to a set of staircases at the end of the living room leading to a large hallway at the second floor. "Follow me to his room - I've made arrangements so the room next to his can be your quarters. There's an en suite bathroom, so you don't need to worry about that."

"Thanks, you've really thought of everything, huh?" he rolls his eyes again, but doesn't retort.

"My brother's quite shy, so it might take some time and a bit of coercion for him to warm up to you. He's never really had a proper babysitter before," he pauses, stopping at one of the doors, before giving a firm knock.

A soft "come in" can be heard from the inside, as Mephisto and you enter the room. The room itself is quite different from the overall feel of the mansion - it's a lot more casual and comfortable. It's still quite large, with a seating area and a multiple bookshelves, leading to a large bed. You see a young demon seated in a sofa, book in hand, as he stands to greet his brother. He's about the same size as Luke, although unmistakably of the same blood as Mephisto - similarly colored well-kept hair, green eyes... yeah this demon is definitely his brother.

"Big brother!" he greets enthusiastically. Just from that, you can tell how close they are. "-- and... um..."

"Hello there," you give the smaller demon a wave and your warmest smile. Embarrassed, he hides his face behind the book he's holding.

"No need to be shy, this is, er, my friend from RAD who I mentioned will be looking after you while I'm away," he explains. The younger demon peers at you from his book, before nodding to his brother.

"Hello..." he's too cute, you think, almost wanting to squeeze the life out of the boy. He continues looking at you, until it looks like something clicks in his head.

"Big brother, are they the human you keep telling me about?"

Oh? You had to stop yourself from spitting out a noise in surprise, although turning to Mephisto, who's suddenly beet-red from what his brother said, didn't help your cause, and unfortunately, just made you want to let out a louder laugh. His younger brother's eyes just sparkle even more.

"It is you! Big brother's told me about you before! You're even prettier in real life!" his enthusiasm is cut short when Mephisto covers his mouth to keep him from saying anything else, although he's conveniently looking everywhere but at you. For now, you spare him mercy and lean down to his younger brother's height.

"That's nice of you to say," you smile, Mephisto's hand finally releasing his brother's mouth. "Your big brother has also told me about how much of a wonderful little brother you are."

He's embarrassed again, returning to hiding his face behind his book. The moment is interrupted, however, when Mephisto's D.D.D starts beeping an alarm, and, upon seeing the time on the screen, turns it off and nods to the two of you.

"Ah, that means I must take my leave. I'll leave you to it then - and uh," he turns, looking at his younger brother. "Please don't embarrass your big brother..." he half-whispers to him, although you hear it quite clearly. "Give me a call if anything happens. I should be back by lunchtime tomorrow."

"See ya, Mephisto!"

"Take care, big brother!"

-

Looking after Mephisto's younger brother is a delight, you think. Although the demon was indeed, pretty shy at first, the moment he saw your Ruri-Hana keychain dangling from your D.D.D - gifted to you by Levi - his eyes started sparkling and all the icebreaker meekness got thrown out the window.

"I-I love Ruri-Hana! I watch all her shows!"

"Why don't we have a little watch party tonight? I'll bake some themed cookies, too!"

"R-Really? You'd do that?" his voice is clearly quivering from excitement at the prospect. You giggle and pat his head in response.

"Absolutely! If you want, you can help, too!"

The elated smile he gives in response is bright, and he pulls you across his room to show you the little corner where he keeps all his memorabilia. His enthusiasm is endearing, and you can't help but feel a sense of older-sibling duty, not too dissimilar as what you feel with Luke.

"Wow! That's a figure of that one time she dressed up as Santa-Devil for a Devilmas special!" all the bingewatching with Levi finally paid off, as you silently thank the third-born in your head for getting you into the franchise as well.

For a while he shows you his collection, until you have an idea and pull out your D.D.D. You show him pictures of a recent convention you went to with Levi, and all the pictures you took with Ruri-Hana franchise cosplayers. His eyes light up at each one, excitedly naming each character. Not long after, a butler knocks on the room, informing the both of you that lunch was to be served.

The dining hall, despite only having you and Mephisto's younger brother, is filled with chatter as you both eat. You learn that he also reads a ton of books, a sentiment that you share. He tells you his favorites, and expresses interest on reading Human Realm literature. You promise to bring over some the next time you're over, which excites the little demon.

After lunch, you start prepping for baking, and after being given a quick kitchen tour by a butler, you work on laying out everything you need. Mephisto's brother is on the other side of the counter on a step stool, so he can see the countertop, pencil and paper in hand, drawing cookie shape ideas to fit the theme.

By the time you both finish cutting and carving off shapes for the dough, it's already late afternoon and the butler comes by to offer you both tea and some light snacks. The younger demon suggests a tea break in the garden, and you go along with his suggestion. He leads you outside through a hallway past the kitchen, and you're greeted by a large expanse of lush flora, and even further, you spot a large clearing where multiple Devildom horses are grazing.

"That midnight one over there is the fastest, he's my big brother's favorite!" he points out, and you spot the horse in question. It's a gorgeous stallion, its fur seemingly glittering under the Devildom moon.

"I have a horse of my own too, but big brother says I'm still too young to race..."

"I'm sure you'll be at it soon!" you assure him. "I don't know much about horseback riding though, so you'll have to show me the ropes when the time comes."

"Oh! Maybe big brother can teach you! Then you'll be able to ride horses, too!"

You lightly laugh at his enthusiasm at the topic, although the image of Mephisto helping you on a saddle flashes in your mind. You hurriedly swallow down the thought - and the slight fluster - with some tea, before you can dwell too much on it.

"I doubt your brother likes me enough to teach me," you lightheartedly joke. The furrow in the young demon's brow slightly surprises you though, as he turns to face you.

"That's not true! Big brother likes you a lot!"

"He... does?" He does?

"Yeah! He's a bit weird about it sometimes, though. He says he's impressed by you and how you reign around the demon brothers, but then he'll also say how much he wants to squeeze the 'life out of your pretty face!'"

"Ah..." your cheeks are quickly turning red, but you try to shake off the imagery. You take another sip of tea to try calm your beating heart down.

"I don't know what he meant by that, though. I don't want him to crush your face!"

His childlike naivete reminds you of Luke, causing you to laugh. "Don't worry, I'm sure he didn't mean it literally," you assure him. You pause, in thought for a second. "So... what else has he said about me?"

"O-Oh! He says that you're such a hard worker. He's told me that not only are you a student council member, you're also a sorcerer's apprentice! That must be hard..."

"Well, it is, but I manage. I do enjoy being in the Devildom, after all."

"He...uh, he says he hopes you're getting enough rest though," the younger demon's voice pauses, a bit hesitant to continue, which you pick up on.

"Hm?" Interesting. "What do you mean?"

"Uh, um... sometimes he'll complain about finding you asleep around school and that now he has to make sure no one disturbs you... so he-ah--! I think I've said too much! Please don't let big brother know I told you!"

You're thankful he's hiding his face in shame because you're pretty sure your own face is also red from being flustered. In your head you're already teasing Mephisto with this information, but you can't deny that your heart fluttered upon learning he's been watching over you all this time - how typical of him, you think.

"How about I tell you a little secret too? Just between us," you offer, calming him down.

"Um... okay, I'm listening," his eyes are focused on you now, clearly all-ears in anticipation.

"I really like your big brother, too."

"R-Really?! You do?"

You nod your head in assurance. "Promise not to tell him though?"

"Yeah! I promise!"

"Alright then. How about you help me make the icing for the cookies now so we can decorate immediately after dinner?"

Before he can respond, however, your D.D.D. starts ringing from where you put it on the table. Looking at the caller I.D., you can't help but breathe out a little giggle. Speak of the devil.

"Meph? What's up?"

"I'm just checking in to see how everything's going. There hasn't been any problems, has there?"

"I-Is that big brother? I wanna talk to him!" again, this kid's enthusiasm is endearing.

"Here, why don't you talk to your brother?"

-

To say he's been restless the entire event is an understatement - Mephisto has been fidgeting and pacing back and forth the entire time. It's not that he doesn't trust the human to look after his beloved sibling, no, it's the dawning realization that his brother might start saying things. Suddenly, the countless R.A.D. stories he's told him that involved you became embarrassment fuel. He's tried distracting himself by socializing with the other nobles in the grounds, however all the attempts have been proven futile. Glugging down demonus didn't seem to be working either, having to be cautious that he wasn't drinking too much.

Checking the time, he infers that it should be fine to give a call - just to make sure, he assures himself, scrolling his contacts list until he spots your name.

Just one call, Mephistopheles, don't overthink it!

A few rings later, you pick up, and he lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in.

"Meph? What's up?"

"I'm just checking in to see how everything's going. There hasn't been any problems, has there?" he's fidgeting the cuff of his sleeves, still restless.

"Is....brother? I wanna....talk....!" he recognizes the voice in the background as his little brother, although talk about poor reception - he'll need to speak with the venue coordinator later.

"Here... don't.... talk.... brother?" the reception sounds like it's getting worse, which is not helping his nerves at all - he can't decipher what either of you are trying to say.

"Brother.... help.... icing.... decorate.... watch.... bad guys....."

?!

"H-Hello? Are you still there? Hey! What do you mean help?!" he's frantic now, trying not to jump to any conclusions - in any case though, he definitely heard his little brother say help and bad guys before the line got cut off from the poor reception... Right?

So like any responsible big brother would, he apologizes to the event host, citing an emergency, and hurriedly calls for his chauffeur to get him home as soon as possible.

-

"Hm? That's weird, the line got cut off..." you both stare at your phone screen, wondering what happened.

"Oh...."

"Don't worry," you try conforting the younger demon. "I'm sure he just had some business to attend to. Let's try calling him again later, yeah?"

"Okay! I wanna tell him about the Ruri-Hana cookies....!"

"Let's go prepare the icing then!"

Nodding, he excitedly gets up from his seat, taking your hand as he hurriedly leads you back to the kitchen. Upon arriving, you both immediately get to work, and he picks out food coloring combinations while you mix up the icing base, dividing it into multiple bowls. He's at first worried that there wouldn't be enough colors, until you remind him that he can mix for new ones, and he's back to excitedly listing down which colors correspond to which bowl.

You both finish prepping everything just in time for dinner; the little demon scarfing down his meal as fast as he could - almost reminding you of a certain ginger demon - and you laugh as you try to match his pace. Before long you're both back in the kitchen, watching the first batch of cookies turn a nice golden color before pulling them out of the oven to cool. You explain to him that the cookies need to rest first before decorating, and he resists the urge to take one cookie as a trial piece. Endeared, you give in and tell him he can get one cookie - as a treat for being such a good helper, you say.

"It's already so good!" he exclaims.

"Heh, I bake a lot with the brothers back at home, so I'm glad you like it!"

"I'm serious! These might be the best cookies ever! I can't wait to decorate!" you swear that if he wasn't restraining himself, he would've been bouncing up and down in excitement. To satiate his energy, you ask him to start preparing the Ruri-Hana CDs in his room, so the watch party can immediately proceed once the cookies are ready. He happily obliges, rushing off upstairs.

Giggling, you take out your D.D.D to pass the time while waiting. Recalling Mephisto's call earlier, you decide to contact him to give an update, as his call from a while ago got cut off. Surpisingly, he answers the moment the call beeps.

"Hello?! Is everything alright there?! Don't worry, I'm by the gates now so-"

"Uh... Mephisto? Are you okay?" he sounds panicked and in a rush, much to your confusion.

"Wh-?! The call earlier, I heard something about a bad guy and needing help?!"

Ah, it immediately clicks for you.

"By any chance, did we get cut off because of bad reception?"

"Well... uh... yeah?"

"Mephisto," you stifle a laugh, but can't help but let it out. The demon on the other side of the line sounds bewildered, urging for clarification. "I think you misheard what your little brother said, and jumped to conclusions."

The line is silent, almost eerily so. You try to stifle another laugh, to no avail.

"Meph, you do realize I'm a capable sorcerer and have seven demons on my beck and call if anything bad were to happen, right?"

"Listen--"

"Please don't tell me you panicked and left your event early."

"Don't rub it in!"

"Well... at least you're in time to help us decorate cookies?"

"Shut up."

You laugh again at the absurdity of the situation as he hangs up, just in time for his younger brother to come trotting down the stairs.

"The CDs are all ready! Can we decorate now?" his pleads, eyes sparkling.

"We can, but I think we have a surprise guest. Why don't we meet him out front?"

"Huh? Who else is coming?"

"You'll see. Come on!"

-

By the time the two of you reach the foyer, the front door is already opening, revealing a disheveled, clearly drained Mephistopheles. You stop yourself from laughing, again, while the younger demon next to you jumps in surprise.

"Big brother! You're back early!" he runs up to him to greet him into a hug, which Mephisto reciprocates, giving him a pat on the head, as well.

"Yes, yes. I was, uh... able to leave early due to some--" he turns his gaze at you, furrowing his brows, flustered. You let out a small huff of air, looking away. "--circumstance. I trust your day was well, my dear brother?"

The younger demon gives a vigorous nod of excitement. "The best! I love my babysitter, big brother! They're the coolest!"

"Really, now?" he raises a brow in interest, urging his brother to continue.

"Yeah, we were just about to decorate cookies for our Ruri-Hana watch party... Oh! You should come help us decorate, big brother!" he doesn't even let the elder respond, already dragging him towards the kitchen. You follow suit, entertained by the two brothers. Mephisto looks behind towards you, casting a questioning glance, and all you do is mouth you'll see.

At the kitchen, Mephisto is given a quick crash course by his little brother about which colors to use, and what to decorate, pulling out the drawings he did from a while ago. Being the doting older brother that he is, he can't say no, and instead tries to follow the instructions he's being given. You transfer the separated icing mixtures into piping bags and show the two brothers the trick to get icing out evenly with even pressure and a steady hand, and despite some mishaps - mostly on Mephisto's part - you finish decorating every cookie, now having a gorgeous Ruri-Hana themed spread. You make sure to take a quick photo to send to Levi later.

"My work here is done then," you proclaim, dusting off bits of flour from your arms. "I'm guessing you'll want me gone now since you came back early...?" you turn to Mephisto, waiting for a quip from him.

"Wha- No...!" his younger sibling is immediately at your side, grabbing ahold of your shirt. "You can't leave yet! We were gonna watch Ruri-Hana!" his voice cracks.

"Big brother, you won't let them leave yet, right...?" he gives Mephisto a pleading look. You glance at him as well, and he catches your gaze. Flustered, he looks away, huffing.

"W-Well... I suppose you already did make plans, so..."

"Did you hear that? You can stay...!" he jumps in excitement, still grabbing onto you. "You can watch with us, big brother! We'll tell you all about the show!"

"And he did help with cookies," you add.

You can tell he initially wanted to decline the offer, but one look at his brother's expectant eyes crumbles him down immediately, sighing in resignation.

"F-Fine. You can leave the cookies here, I'll bring them up after I change."

Giggling, the younger demon proceeds to urge you quickly up to his room, where the watch party is set up. You suggest building a pillow fort while waiting for Mephisto, and if you thought the little demon couldn't get even more excited, you were mistaken. He's immediately onboard the idea, taking all the blankets and sheets off his massive bed. You quickly stop by to what was supposed to be your room to grab additional pillows and blankets, bringing it back to the other room.

The fort is a little rough around the edges and haphazard, but the younger demon doesn't seem to care, smile never seeming to go down. Mephisto enters the room a little while later, tray of cookies in hand, looking more casual than usual.

"I've brought the cooki-- Er, what are you two doing?"

"Big brother, look! We made a pillow fort! We can watch Ruri-Hana even better now!"

"A... fort? I fail to see any sort of resemblance..."

"Just get in here," you urge him, taking the tray off of his hands, setting it at the center. Mephisto's brother has already found his spot near the side, hugging a large Azuki-tan plush close to himself.

"Oh! You can sit next to me! That way, I can tell you all my favorite parts! And big brother can sit next you!" he suggests. You comply, trying not to think much about the seating placement, or if the little devil had ulterior motives. After taking your place, Mephisto is still standing outside the fort, seemingly in conflict with himself, staring at the empty space next to you. You pat the spot with your hand, inviting him in. You hear him groan in contempt, mumbling an "I guess that works" to himself as he sits next to you. You giggle at his resignation, and he casts you a glare, although you could tell it had no bite.

The watch party starts off without a hitch - you and Mephisto's little brother gleefully react at all the exciting scenes, as if you've never seen the show before. Mephisto seemed confused half the time, although it's clear he was entertained enough to stay. You humour him every now and then by explaining some of the finer details, and he's surprisingly very attentive. It's not long before he brings his own commentary on the table on certain scenes, prompting discussions and lighthearted debates between the three of you.

Hours and a whole tray of cookies later, the younger demon next to you has drifted off to sleep, curling himself in, Azuki-tan plush by his side. Mephisto, although initially wanting to transfer him to his bed, eventually gives in to let him continue sleeping as is - it's a pillow fort, nothing's more cofortable! - you assure the usually snarky demon, who sighs in defeat.

"He's a really sweet kid," you tell him, placing a blanket over the young demon, who snuggles in comfortably. "--very much unlike his big brother," you add, teasing him.

"He's nice enough for the both of us," his reply is sarcastic, rolling his eyes in addition as a response. "But yes, he's the best brother I could ask for."

"Hah, just now, you kinda sounded like Lucifer when he gets drunk--"

"Do not compare me to that arrogant, self-absorbed, goat-horned jerk."

"Oh, that's a new one. I'll have to use that sometime," you laugh quietly, careful not to disturb your snoozing fortmate. You notice him trying to stifle his own laugh, more amused than he lets on.

A welcomed silence envelops the room, the lowered volume of a Ruri-Hana episode still playing in the background. You can't help but stare at his screen-illuminated face, engrossed in a fight scene between Ruri-chan and the epsiode's focused monster. It's not long before he catches you staring, however, but instead of a sneering quip, he instead gets flustered and turns his head back at the screen.

"So... uh," he starts, still trying to find what he wants to say, although his eyes are still glued to the screen, albeit unfocused.

"For... today. Thanks."

"If it's for looking after your brother, there's no need to thank me. It was fun."

"No, not only that. In truth, I was worried he wouldn't open up to you, and, well..." he breathes in, finally turning to face you. "I didn't like the idea of you two not getting along, I guess."

"Hey, I already told you, kids love me! ...I think," you say. It's light, but you hear a semblance of a laugh escaping him. "Plus, I got to learn a little bit more about you, too!"

"Hm? Like what?"

"Well... I got to meet your favorite horse - he's really pretty, by the way."

"Ah, so you've met Faust. Yes, he is a stunner, befitting only of someone such as myself," he huffs in pride.

"Speaking of, you should totally teach me how to horseback. Your little brother kinda got me intrigued."

He pauses for a moment, as if in thought. "I suppose that's not an... unfavorable idea. I'll consider it."

You're a little surprised, not expecting him to agree, but at the same time, you realize it was his own way of attempting to get closer to you. Recalling what his little brother said that afternoon, you decide to push your luck a little bit further.

"I uh... also learned that despite how you act, you're always looking out for me," it's your turn to avert your gaze, thankful that the room's dimness was enough to hide the pink tinge on your cheeks.

"Wha-ugh... He told you, didn't he..." the giggle you let out in response is light, almost inaudible with the show's ending song playing in the background.

"I think it's quite endearing," you assure him. "I mean, the brothers already try their best to make sure I'm always safe, so knowing you go out of your way to do so too, regardless... It's a nice feeling. Thanks, Mephisto."

"Y-Yeah..."

Silence envelops the two of you again, this time completely, as the screen in front of you fades to black, signifying the episode's end. Carefully, you shuffle yourself a little closer to him, and you take it as an invitation to go further when all he does is look at you quietly.

Wordlessly, you lean your head against his shoulder, softly breathing in the remnants of his perfume from earlier in the day; a comforting scent compounded with Mephisto's natural one. He stiffens at your action, but almost immediately relaxes himself, his hand finding yours under the sheets. His hand is chilly, you think, the demon obviously nervous, but you urge him to continue by letting out a gentle hum of assurance and giving his hand a quick squeeze.

"Hey, Meph?" you whisper, leaning yourself closer to him.

"Hm?" you can feel his head turn to look down on yours.

"I like you."

"Ah... I--" he's breathless, despite already seeing the confession coming. He's thankful the darkness is hiding his extremely flushed face, but he's unsure if you can hear how loud his heart is beating.

"I like you too."

You giggle lightly, squeezing his hand again, this time, a bit warmer. You feel him squeeze back, as you feel yourself starting to drift off to sleep.

"I know."

You're unaware of it, but as he hears your breathing relax and as your body naturally leans a bit more towards him, he's smiling at your form softly, planting a kiss on the crown of your head.

"Sleep tight."

-

Devilgram, the next morning

@ minimephisto : [img attached of you and mephisto sleeping, your head leaning against his chest, his head rested atop yours] my big brother and my favorite babysitter are so cute together! ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)♡

see all replies (20)

mammoney : hey! what the hell! get that bastard away from my human!

lucifer : language, mammon. mephistopheles, i will deal with you myself.

asmobaby : awwww! look at those lovebirds ♡

stn : you're not helping, asmo

-

thank you for reading! my asks are also open if anyone would like to request something. ofc, there's no guarantee that i'll do it (haha) but i'd love to hear suggestions :>

[andy-15-07]

Sun, Sand, and Love

A true love Masterlist

Pairing: Rudy Pankow x reader x Drew Starkey

Summary: first vacation as a couple.

Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

Drew, Rudy, and Y/n strolled along the sun-kissed beach, their hands intertwined as they relished the feeling of the warm sand beneath their feet. The salty breeze swept through their hair, and the sound of crashing waves filled the air with a soothing melody.

"This is paradise," Drew remarked, his eyes scanning the endless stretch of coastline before them.

Rudy chuckled, wrapping an arm around Y/n's waist. "And we're finally here together."

Y/n smiled, leaning into Rudy's side. "It's even better than I imagined."

As they walked, they passed by colorful beach umbrellas and groups of people playing volleyball or lounging on towels. Drew glanced around, his gaze landing on a secluded spot under a palm tree.

"Hey, what do you say we claim that spot over there?" he suggested, pointing towards the shaded area.

Rudy nodded eagerly. "Sounds perfect."

Y/n grinned, squeezing Rudy's hand. "Lead the way, boys."

They settled down on the soft sand, spreading out a large beach towel beneath them. Drew reached into the cooler they had brought along and pulled out a couple of cold drinks, passing them around.

"Cheers to our first vacation as a couple," Drew said, raising his bottle.

Rudy clinked his bottle against Drew's, a wide smile on his face. "To many more adventures together."

Y/n joined in, toasting with her drink. "And to making unforgettable memories."

They spent the afternoon lounging on the beach, alternating between swimming in the crystal-clear water and soaking up the sun's rays. As the day wore on and the sun began to dip lower in the sky, they decided to take a romantic walk along the shoreline.

"This is so beautiful," Y/n whispered, her fingers laced with Rudy's as they walked hand in hand.

Drew smiled, wrapping his arm around Y/n's shoulders. "Not as beautiful as you."

Y/n blushed, leaning into Drew's side. "Smooth talker."

Rudy chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at Y/n. "He's not wrong though."

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, content to simply enjoy each other's company and the breathtaking scenery around them. Eventually, they found themselves standing at the water's edge, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon in a blaze of orange and pink hues.

"It's moments like these that make everything worth it," Drew murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Rudy nodded, his gaze never leaving Y/n's face. "Agreed."

Y/n smiled, feeling overwhelmed with happiness as she looked between the two men she loved. "I couldn't ask for anything more."

As darkness fell and the stars began to twinkle overhead, they made their way back to their beach towel, where they settled down to watch the moon rise over the ocean. Wrapped in each other's arms, they talked and laughed late into the night, sharing stories and dreams for the future.

"I never want this moment to end," Y/n whispered, resting her head against Rudy's chest.

Drew pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his heart overflowing with love. "Then let's make the most of it."

And so, they stayed there on the beach, lost in each other's arms, cherishing every precious moment of their first vacation as a couple. For Drew, Rudy, and Y/n, it was a time of love, laughter, and endless possibility—a memory they would carry with them forever.

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Heloooo!

I'm really happy I found your blog we need more male reader writers🫶🥲

I'm here to request a oneshot for Tyrion Lannister from game of thrones who is very close friends with the reader (ftm or not your choice) but he slowly starts realizing he feels more than friendship towards him.

Like the reader is Tyrions gay awakening if you will😌

Love what you do, you're doing a great job lots of love💖

Beneath the Shadows of Kings

Pairing : Tyrion Lannister x Male reader Tags: Getting together, Fluff, Friends to lovers Word count : 923 Y/n: Your name  L/n: your last name

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across the dimly lit chamber, where Tyrion Lannister sat hunched over his small writing desk, quill poised in hand. The scratch of ink on parchment was a familiar sound, but tonight, it felt insufficient to distract his restless thoughts. He missed Y/N —his laughter, his insight, the way he  brought light into the dreary halls..

Their  friendship had blossomed in this dark place, forged in shared wit and mutual understanding. Y/N  had been a source of strength for Tyrion during his darkest days, a friend who saw beyond the legacy of a Lannister name. Y/N  had listened to his countless tales, never judging, never looking down on him. Rather, He encouraged him, making him feel seen in a way that few others did.

On this particular evening, he had requested the other man's  company after a taxing day filled with political manoeuvrings and veiled threats. He often found solace in Y/N presence, but tonight, as he waited for his to arrive, a different kind of tension filled the air—one he couldn’t quite place.

The door creaked open, interrupting his thoughts. There Y/N stood, an inviting smile lighting up his face, eyes shimmering with a warmth that always made him feel at home. "I thought you were going to drown yourself in ink tonight, my lord,” Y/N teased, stepping into the room.

“Ah, but the ink has a tendency to run dry, unlike the conversation with a good friend,” Tyrion replied with a smirk, setting the quill aside. He motioned for Y/N  to sit on the chair opposite him. “But I suppose I have some red wine nearby. Perhaps that would be a better companion for our evening?”

Y/N  settled into the chair, his presence filling the room with an energy that Tyrion relished. “You know I wouldn’t argue against a glass or two of your finest,” Y/N said playfully, and Tyrion scoffed, pouring a generous amount into two goblets.

They clinked together, and They  both brought their goblets to their lips, drinking deeply, a silent toast to camaraderie shared amidst a brutal world.

As the wine flowed, so too did the conversation—stories of their past adventures, shared laughter, and subtle glances that lingered just a moment too long. The way Y/N  spoke, His hands gesturing in wide arcs, his expressions shifting from mirth to earnestness—it struck something deep within Tyrion.

“This world is a cruel and senseless place, isn’t it?” Y/N mused, his tone reflecting on the darker sides of politics. “But amidst that chaos, we endure, we find joy in small things, like...” His voice trailed off as his gaze caught Tyrion's It was a simple silence, yet it resounded louder than the words that often peppered their conversations.

Tyrion found himself lost in those eyes. They were like pools of endless possibility—a light amid the darkness. He realised in that moment that his feelings had shifted, deepened in ways he couldn’t yet fully comprehend. The laughter they shared now felt laced with something greater, something that tethered his heart to Y/N.

"You are a rare light in this dismal place," he finally said, his voice softer, the words almost a confession. "More precious than gold or title."

Y/N tilted his head, the corners of his mouth curling into a soft smile, and the warmth his  presence brought ignited something deep inside him—something frightening yet intoxicating.

“Isn’t that what friends are for?” Y/N  replied gently, but Tyrion could sense the way the other man’s pulse quickened, the way his breath hitched ever so slightly.

“No, it’s more than that,” he pressed, leaning forward, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. “You’ve become… integral to my life. Someone I rely on, someone I want at my side, not just as a friend, but as something more.”

Y/N expression shifted, surprise momentarily flickering across his face, quickly replaced by understanding. “Tyrion...” he began, but Tyrion cut him off.

“Please, allow me this—these feelings, they’ve been gathering like storm clouds in my heart,” he confessed, his voice trembling, raw with sincerity. “I’ve tried to ignore them, buried them beneath laughter and jest, but I cannot anymore. You are more than a friend to me; you are…”

His voice faltered. The silence swelled like the tide, pulling him closer to the edge of vulnerability. Y/N took a deep breath, and then, to Tyrion’s surprise, Y/N reached across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against the dwarfs .

“I feel it too,” Y/N whispered, eyes shining with a mix of emotion that resonated with him. “But in a world like this… could we…?”

“Could we dare?” Tyrion finished, a spark of hope igniting between them . “I have long been a fool in my life; I will not be a fool where my heart is concerned.”

In the flickering candlelight, with the shadows of kings looming just outside yet feeling far away, Y/N leaned closer, his warmth enveloping Tyrion. “Then let’s not be fools together,” Y/N said softly, His lips curving into a smile that spoke of possibility.

Time seemed to freeze as Tyrion closed the distance between them, and in that moment, amidst the chaos of the world outside, they both took the first steps into uncharted territory together.

As Their lips met, all political alliances and family expectations faded into the background, leaving only the promise of what could be, a bond forged not merely from friendship, but something richer, more profound.

[feyhunter78]

Chapter Twenty - Jon finally is allowed to taste the forbidden fruit.

NSFW content below the cut CH 21

Jon’s feet hurt, he has been given far too many toasts and wishes for a son by men he has never before met. And though he tried desperately to avoid drinking, Robb was still able to force two or three glasses of wine down his throat. He wished to be clear-headed when he took you to the marriage bed, wished for nothing to rob him of his memories or his senses.

When you grab his arm, a controlled look of apprehension and annoyance on your face, he bristles, all the wine and revelry draining from him. Who has upset you? Who has dared to wipe the smile from his bride’s face? Then Tyrion appears, looking as insistent as you, and Jon simply pauses, waiting for you and your father to silently decide who should speak first.

He should not have paused; he was a fool to pause. The call for the bedding ceremony rings out, and you are pulled from him, from Tyrion, swallowed up by a crowd of hungry noblemen. He has no sword, why would he, it is his wedding day, but he is still Ser Jon Dayne, still your sworn protector, he should not have let his guard down.

“Fucking savages. Jon, get y/n out of here.” Tyrion yells over the noise of the crowd, scrambling out of the way as Jon pushes away from the noblewomen who have flocked to him, eager to tear the clothing from his body. His tunic rips as he wrenches himself free, his sleeves being torn from his shoulders, and he lets the fabric flutter to the ground, his arms and half his abdomen exposed to the cheering onlookers.

It is chaos, and he remembers how Lady Catelyn used to fawn over his uncle’s words even a decade later. His proclamation that there would be no bedding, for he did not think it right to break a man’s jaw on his wedding day. But Jon has no such qualms, and you are not Lady Catelyn. He shoves men aside, elbows, trips, punches, throws them away from you, his knuckles bloody when he breaks through the circle of lechers and grabs you. You, who fights like a lioness, your claws bloodied as well.

You startle, ready to claw his eyes out, then recognize and cling to him, yelping when he throws you over his shoulder and continues on. The two of you leaving the noblemen to fight amongst themselves, unsure of who hit who, blaming old rivals and new enemies.

Jon has done this twice before, glad of his strength that allows him to swiftly take you away from danger. Though he laments the fact that his blood will stain your gown and skin, his busted knuckles dripping red onto the marble floors. He makes it to the nearest opening, a balcony overlooking Lannisport, and sets you down gently, in the corner, the climbing ivy shielding you and him from the doors. It is quiet now, the roar of the crowd muffled, the bright candlelight dimmed, the wind cool as it tumbles down the Rock and onto the city below. “Are you hurt?”

You look down at your gown, pure white painstakingly embroidered by Sansa and Myrcella with threads of gold and precious gems. It is torn, dirtied, stained with drops of his blood and the blood of others, and your hair has fallen from its intricate updo, gathering about your shoulders. “No, but my gown is ruined.” You say in a small voice, clutching your skirts tearfully.

Jon gathers you in his arms, resting his forehead against yours. “You still look beautiful. The most beautiful bride in the Seven Kingdoms.”

You release a shaky breath and smooth your hands down his arms, leaving small streaks of red. You must have gotten a few good scratches in as you defended yourself. “My father invited the fucking dragon queen to our wedding.”

His mind stalls, akin to a wheelhouse stuck in mud, then it lurches forward free of the muck. “Has he gone mad?”

You shrug, still dragging your hands up and down his arms, a soothing gesture he believes is more for you than him. “Perhaps.”

“He cannot think to overthrow the king here, The Rock is all but impenetrable, and will not fall to dragonflame.” Jon’s fingers splay across your back, and he shakes his head. “We swore an oath to the king.”

He feels your head raise, your lips brushing against his own as you speak. “You swore an oath to me, a stronger one, as I did to you. That is the only one that matters.”

There is an ache in his gut, an unease crawling up into his chest and making a home. “I have already broken my oath to the crown two times over…”

You nod, your hands on his back now, one moving up to tangle in his hair, resting at the nape of his neck. “They were not fit to rule, you did what was necessary for the realm.” Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper.

“You would ask me to break my oath again?” He asks, his nose bumping against yours, your eyes a dark forest green in the shadows of the night.

“I…” The word is tinged with uncertainty, and he silences you with a kiss.

You lean into his touch, tightening your grip on him, nails scraping against his scalp as you pull him closer. Your body melds to his, soft and yielding, the taste of honey and cinnamon on your lips—from the cake made specifically for the wedding—your breath warm against his, mingling, the feel of you, the taste of you intoxicating beyond all measure.

“How many kings must I fight against to have you?” Jon breathes, trailing his hands down your sides, fingertips finding where parts of the fabric has been ripped away, exposing your skin to the night air.

“You already have me.” You say, shivering when his hands ghost over your hips, your breath catching in your throat when he slowly lowers himself to the ground kneeling before you.

Jon looks up at you, and swears he can feel his pupils expanding, desperate to take in as much of the sight before him as he can. Bathed in moonlight you are a goddess, and when he rucks up your skirts and presses his lips to your core, his tongue desperate and eager, the sound you make is truly divine. Jon wants to hear it again, needs to hear it again, so he pulls your small clothes to the side, and feasts, your skirts draped around him, hiding him from the world. His hands grip your thighs, easing them apart, and when your hips shift, he realizes you have leaned back and gripped the stone railing, opening yourself further to him.

“How many kings must I fight to keep you, then?” He asks, cock beginning to stir as he rolls his tongue over your bud, parting with you only momentarily to nip at your thigh, marking you as his own.

“Jon, oh gods, please.” You beg quietly, the skirts on his right side bunching up from where you have gripped them.

He lazily laps at your core, nose pressed against your bud, smirking when your breathing picks up. “I do not know that number.”

You let out a flustered, strangled sound, but rock your hips against him. “You have me, you may keep me, even if you do not fight another king.”

“Is that so?” He hums, watching as your thighs clench in response to the vibrations.

“Do not tease, Husband.” You whine, sounding so desperate that he debates giving up his line of playful questioning.

“How can I deny My Lady Wife anything she desires?” Jon eases a digit in careful as he knows you are still a maiden, and he never wishes to hurt you.

You tense for a moment, and he freezes. Then light floods in, and he finds himself looking up at you. You hold out your free hand to him, and he takes it, intertwining your fingers, chuckling softly when you throw your skirts back over him.

Jon curls his finger experimentally, biting back a groan when a small moan slips past your lips. He adds another, his thumb circling your bud slowly, waiting to hear or see any signs of discomfort.

“Jon…” You gasp, and he hears the diamonds on your sleeves clatter against the railing, your core pulsing around him. “More.”

He curls his fingers, searching for that sensitive spot within you, his lips attaching to your bud, tracing nonsensical shapes as his fingers coax you closer and closer to the edge.

Moans spill from your lips like music, and he cannot help but echo them, tongue joining his fingers in their devouring of you, mouthing at you like a man starved. Finally, he rips your small clothes free, slipping them in his pocket, to allow himself the use of both hands.

Jon shoves your thighs apart, offering a silent apology as his beard scratches against the sensitive flesh of them, too enraptured by the taste of you, divine and delightful, just as you are. His cock aches, straining against his breeches, desire driving him mad.

Your high comes abruptly, and his eyes nearly roll back into his head at the way you drip around him. Your arousal running down his hand, mixing with the blood still sluggishly flowing from his broken skin.

You pull him up and grab at his breeches, freeing his cock from the restricting fabric, as you whine, “now, Jon, I need you now.”

He leans forward, gripping the railing, forcing his lust back, attempting to regain any semblance of control. “Y/N, we should go to our chambers, anyone could come upon us.”

“I cannot wait any longer.” You grip him tightly, thumb grazing the head of his cock as you pout up at him, lightning shooting through his body, your touch burning to the point of pleasure pain. “Please, Jon?”

He backs you up against the railing, swearing under his breath, and pushes in, head falling forward as he is engulfed in your walls.

You make a stifled pained sound, and he curses himself, raising his head to press chaste kisses to the plains of your face. His hand moves between your bodies to your bud, stroking you softly as he waits for you to adjust.

“Breathe y/n, breathe.” He urges, his free hand leaving the railing to brush the hair back from your face, his thumb smoothing along the apples of your cheek.

You take a deep breath, then another, and he feels your muscles relax, but your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, and your eyes will not meet his.

Jon presses a kiss to your temple and pulls out slowly before tucking himself back into his breeches.

You blink at him, a frown marring your perfect face. “Jon?”

He cannot do it, he will not take you here, in the open air where he cannot calm you properly. “I will not risk us being caught.” He takes your hand in his and presses it to his lips. “We have a fine bedchamber awaiting us, let us make use of it.”

Jon should feel bad, he knows he should, sneaking you past all the guests, your family, his family, the servants. All while he salivates like a hound over the thought of you bare before him on the silk sheets of your shared bed.

It is not right to take you like this, spread out, his body above yours, your gown, his clothing discarded, the windows open so that all can hear. You are a lady, his lady, his Lady Wife, he should act with decorum and honor, but it is so very difficult when you beg and praise so perfectly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, how—gods, how are you so good at this?” Your breasts are heaving with each breath, your words broken up by moans.

Jon chuckles, tweaking your nipples, ravishing your throat with his teeth and tongue, his cock driving you higher and higher, his hand in your hair, keeping you from turning you head and hiding from his gaze. “I dreamt of this, of you, I practiced many times in my dreams.”

Your back arches and your core pulses around him, liquid fire filling his veins.

“My starlight.” He coos, his free hand groping your perfect breasts, groaning at the feel of your soft skin. “My wife, how beautiful you are.”

“Jon, oh gods, I do not underst—” Your words are cut off by a desperate moan, your emerald eyes glazed over with lust, your pretty lips parted as you frantically take in air.

“Trust me, I have got you. You need only enjoy, can you do that for me?” Jon asks, caressing the curve of your cheek, admiring the way the candlelight plays across your skin. He has claimed many of your firsts, and he intends to be the last to do so.

“Yes, yes, I can, I can.” You say, and he bites back a groan at the way you look up at him, so trusting and eager.

“Good girl.” He praises, brushing a kiss to the corner of your lips as he thrusts into you, harder, faster, finding that spot within you that makes you sing and focusing there.

You whimper in response, squirming in his hold, hips rolling to meet his incoming thrusts, warm walls clenched around him, making him lightheaded.

“Jon, Jon, Jon, please, please do not stop.” You beg, nails digging into his shoulders, your eyes screwed shut.

“Never.” He promises, releasing his grip on your hair to trail his fingers down your bare body until he comes upon your bud, setting a cruel rhythm that makes your body tremble, cries of his name growing louder and louder.

He wants the whole of The Rock to hear you, to know you are his, to keep their filthy hands off you.

“Swear it to me, swear you will never let anyone separate us.” You say desperately, your eyes open now, pupils blown wide, but there is a clarity within them.

This has been your fear since King Stannis took the throne, one he has not been able to banish from your mind. “I would fight the gods old and new to stay by your side, none shall tear us asunder, I swear to you.”

“So would I, Jon, I love you, I love you.” You say, pulling him closer to you, smashing your lips to his hungrily as if you cannot get enough of him.

“And I love you.” He whispers, nipping at your earlobe, liquid lust and pure unfiltered adoration raging in his veins.

Jon TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo, @legolastheleafyelf, @faerie-film, @wifiatthetrainstation, @duskypinki, @tartine-de-pain, @rebeccawinters, @taylorsfemalerage, @rax-raxus, @certainwonderlandperfection, @nymeriiiia, @burkgolden, @drewsivy

[phanfictioncatalogue]

2024 Era (2) Masterlist

part one

Blonde (ao3) - philforscale

Summary: Phil went blonde. Dan loves it.

cornetto and a hot chocolate (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: a cute little stolen moment shared on a tour break 💙

Dan & Phil 2024 (ao3) - VPofPanic

Summary: This is a ficlet written for the prompt "Dan & Phil 2024" from the Phinktober 2024 challenge.

It covers the first three months of 2024 with a focus on one video/event per month:

1) January: Viewers Pick My Birthday Presents 2024

2) February: Reacting to My TERRIBLE Acting

3) March: Keeping or Yeeting My Entire Closet with Dan!

Date Night (ao3) - achromatic__sky

Summary: Playing a game made for couples on the channel is not really a big deal is it ?

And yet as they wrap up filming like any other night, with the tour coming up in only a few days, Dan finds himself doubting everything once again.

Date night, or Dan is having a mild freak out about Terrible Influence and Phil is there to comfort him.

Duneussy (and other ways to say I love you) (ao3) - Lesbianphan

Summary: A companion piece to Gentle. Dan's thoughts after his 33rd birthday livestream on DanandPhilGAMES, featuring the Dune bucket

dreaming of you (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: “and now I’m dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, dreaming of you” - cigarettes after sex

Fall in love again and again (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: An evening, right before tour. Phil thinks about feeling lucky and different ways to take care of someone.

Float (ao3) - Aliquis

Summary: Dan's a professional, after all, and this is his job. Just another day at the office in front of hundreds of their grown-up fans whose expectations exited the stratosphere somewhere between his last two posts on socials. Fuck.

french toast, again (ao3) - buskingalbatross

Summary: Dan's ice cream shop dream, sort of. Not really.

Go out with a bang as it were (ao3) - natigail

Summary: The cursor was mocking Dan as he was trying to work on his Terrible Influence Tour script and he kept getting distracted thinking about his life with Phil and the relationship with their audience. Until Phil showed up with water, stole his laptop, made him faint and promised to love him for 100 years.

heart skipped a beat (ao3) - starryfaced

Summary: Dan and Phil have a day to spare in Stockholm - cue the seals and the meese, it's time to go to the zoo!

I have to tell you something (ao3) - solarpower21

Summary: Dan confesses he was the one behind the PhilsLion account.

In our garden (ao3) - trashcanfromgallifrey

Summary: The boys spend a warm summer afternoon in their garden together<3

liquorice ice cream (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Dan and Phil go on a date to the zoo.

(Snapshots of their Swedish zoo date, September 2024. This fic is free from TIT show spoilers!)

not a lot, just forever (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: working through the feels post-hospital incident ❤️‍🩹

One and Only (ao3) - clcprint

Summary: dan meets a new phil and his phil gets jealous.

or

phil loses the idgaf war

Phome is where the heart is (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: dan and phil go shopping at target while in Seattle for tit. they’re feeling festive for the season and a little sappy bc, well, duh 🧡

Phouse Chores (ao3) - SpiritsDJH

Summary: Very loosely based off of the chore segment of the preshow at TIT.

pizza & packing (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: dan and phil eat pizza and pack for their trip. they might love each other a little bit

Precious baby angel (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: Dan and Phil buy matching precious baby angel shirts because they’re gay and in love. Dan shows Phil how much he likes the shirt on his angel 💖

Precious Baby Angel (ao3) - toadsappho

Summary: Phil shows Dan his new t-shirt, but that's not the only surprise he has for him.

Proxy Requests (ao3) - philsmeatylegss

Summary: A story about poop and fear (unrelated)

Sheets and sharpies (ao3) - wwoodles

Summary: “Are you going to be good for me?”

He hovered above Dan’s face, awaiting his response. Dan was always taken aback that Phil had this power in him. The ability to completely disarm him.

“Yes, Father.”

Or, in the moments after the end of Dan’s birthday stream, Dan is not only incredibly grateful for Phil, but also incredibly horny.

Side By Side (ao3) - SpiritsDJH

Summary: Dan and Phil, reeling in all the feelings of tour, and finally being able tour the world together again.

silent and sure, keeping watch in the night (ao3) - gaydreaming

Summary: Phil has always loved being on tour. The adventure, the sounds of the tour bus, the way his quality time with Dan takes on a different shape. On the road between Oslo and Helsinki, he sees some beautiful stars through the bus window and wakes Dan up in the middle of the night to enjoy them with him.

Spa night (ao3) - philsbignaturals

Summary: In which Phil gives Dan a nice pampering set for his birthday that's big enough for two.

Spearmint & Espresso (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: Scents (and cuddles) can be healing ☕️🫧

Stolen Sweets (ao3) - e_5456, Frog910

Summary: Phil's sweet tooth strikes again

sunkissed (ao3) - ivylakes

Summary: Maybe Phil was made to pour warmth into this man and leave little marks all over his body the way the sun does when it covers his skin with freckles. Maybe everything they’ve ever done and every little way they’ve loved each other has culminated in this very moment, where they can hardly see each other in the low light but are still brighter than the yellow light that breaks through the sky and glitters on the ocean.

Or, Dan and Phil go on holiday, and every photo they take tells a story.

Sweet Haribo (ao3) - dprkives

Summary: Phil says corny shit to Dan while he’s high on fentanyl at the hospital

switch it up (don’t stop) (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: post workout activities wink wink

Through Sickness and In Health (ao3) - Mysticallykai

Summary: After Phil's hospital stay and their vacation, Dan and Phil try to fall back into their routine. Though it's hard to go back to normal when your normal has changed so suddenly. How will the significant health scare affect Dan and Phil even weeks after it's over?

tweet and retweet (ao3) - gesticulationbubble

Summary: Dan wakes up to a 'surprise on twitter' discovered by Phil. Knowing the Phandom, he guesses he's in for a treat.

Or the August 1st/2nd 2024 Incident, retold.

wear no disguise for me (ao3) - lesbaurinkos (pluginbaby)

Summary: It’s not exactly jealousy, Phil doesn’t think. Not– exactly. But he’s feeling petulant and selfish and maybe like he wants to be a little mean about this… not-Phil. This Phil who doesn’t know the half of what it means to be half of Dan.

(or: dan made a new friend called phil. am i a joke to you)

When you're in the mirror, you're just looking at me (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: A morning, in a hotel during the tour. Dan thinks about tours past and present.

Where it began (ao3) - Frog910

Summary: Dan and Phil are thinking back to how things started

you will be (the death of me) (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: “I wanna play the game, I want the friction

You will be the death of me”

- Muse (Time is Running Out)

[raikanata]

Taking Care of a Difficult Child - Mayoi Ayase Feature Scout 2 4* Story

[ Read on my site for a better viewing experience using Ois~su♪ ]

Warning: This is a Fan TL and is not proofread.

Characters: Mayoi, Tomoya, Tatsumi

Season: Winter

Mayoi: So you're asking m-me to take care of Hokuto-senpai?

Tomoya: I'm sorry to ask so suddenly. It turned out that our next location wasn't going to be a day trip.

I can't take Hokuto-senpai to work with me, and the pet shop manager hasn't returned to Japan yet, so...

I'm looking for someone who can take care of him until I return from work...

Mayoi: I see. I understand your situation.

Well... I'm very happy that you came to me for help, but...

I really don't think I'm suited to take care of Hokuto-senpai...!

Even when you first got Hokuto-senpai, I mostly spent time in another room so I wouldn't get in your way...

Um, umm... Can't you ask the people in "ANIMALS" for help, like you did before?

Tomoya: Well, I tried to ask them. But it looks like everyone already has plans on that day.

They can only be back by the evening...

Mayoi: And someone has to take care of Hokuto-senpai until then, right...

(Wh-what should I do? I more or less know how to take care of Hokuto-senpai, since I watched Mashiro-san doing it...)

(Even though I know how to care for him, I don't know if he'll listen to me at all.)

(Nevermind that, if something was to happen to Mashiro-san's precious Hokuto-senpai because I wasn't able to take care of him properly...)

Tomoya: ...I'm sorry, Ayase-senpai. I put you in a difficult position by asking something like this so suddenly.

Mayoi: No, I...

Tomoya: Please forget about it. I'll try and ask some other people as well.

Mayoi: (I've troubled Mashiro-san a lot, not only in the "Dead End Cafe", but also as a roommate...)

(I want to return the favor if I can...)

(After all, he came to me for help. There must have not been anyone else that he could ask.)

I, I got it!

Tomoya: Ayase-senpai...?

Mayoi: If the members of "ANIMALS" can make it towards the night...

I will accept the responsibility, and take care of Hokuto-senpaii!

Time: The next day

Mayoi: Then... Let's get along today, Hokuto-senpai ♪

(Since Tomoya-san is off to work, from here on, I have to take great care of him..!)

Uum, Mashiro-san already fed him, so next up...

Mayoi: Eek!? Hokuto-senpai cried out suddenly...! What's wrong!?

I'msorryI'msorryy, I know someone like me isn't fit to take care of you!

But please, be a little patient with me...!

Ah, where are you going...! Please waaiiit!

Tatsumi: (I'm relieved that my vegetables seem to be growing nicely♪)

(Right. Before I forget, let me send this picture I took to everyone in "Gardenia". Uuh, to attach an image...)

(...Hm? There's a familiar crying sound coming from somewhere.)

(The source of the voice... seems to be Mayoi-san and Tomoya-san's room. That means...)

Mayoi-san, Tomoya-san. It sounds like Hokuto-senpai is crying. Did something happen?

(No answer. I can still hear the crying, but no sound from Mayoi-san or anyone else...)

(I'll have to invite myself in, Mayoi-san!)

Tatsumi: This is!? Mayoi-san, are you okay!?

Mayoi: Uuu...?

Tatsumi: Why did you collapse in the room like this!?

Where is Tomoya-san!? What exactly happened here!?

Mayoi: ...Ah, God must be so merciful as to allow even a person such as myself to receive a final call of fate...

Tatsumi: Please hang on! This isn't a final call of anything!

Mayoi: Uuu... I'm sorry to make you worry like this...

I was so deeply focused on taking good care of Hokuto-senpai, I forgot to take care of myself, even to eat...

But I never thought that I'd pass out... If Tatsumi-san didn't find me, who knows what would have become of me...

Tatsumi: You're exaggarating. However, I'm relieved that you seem better now.

Mayoi: You even made toast for me. Thank you so much, really.

Tatsumi: It's Hokuto-senpai that you should thank. I was alerted to the situation thanks to his cries.

Mayoi: I-is that so. Thank you, Hokuto-sen--

Eek!? Why are you screaming so much? Did, did I do something to offend you...?

Uuu, you really won't listen to me...

What do I do... At this rate, we won't even make it until everyone from "ANIMALS" arrives.

Tatsumi: Please raise your head, Mayoi-san.

Tatsumi: Hokuto-senpai is yelling at me as well, it's not because of you.

I heard from Koga-san that the reason why Tomoya-san started to call him "Hokuto-senpai" was to get him to listen.

He seems to have a bit of a difficult personality, right? We need to get him to let his guard down first.

Mayoi: Let his guard down, huh... But, how...

Tatsumi: That's right. Is there anything that Tomoya-san uses regularly when taking care of him?

Mayoi: Well, there's a blanket on the bed over there, but...

Tatsumi: I heard that having an item around that carries their smell, or their owner's smell, is calming for animals.

Using that, maybe we can try and see whether we can get Hokuto-senpai to lower his guard?

Mayoi: I see...! It's bath time right now, so I'll try to take him to the bathroom with the blanket!

He-here! This way, Hokuto-senpai! It's bath time now♪

Ah, he's walking this way...!

....but, ahh! He completely stopped in his tracks!

Tatsumi: Hm, it's not going all that well.

Mayoi: N-no! When I take a step back, he also takes a step forward...! I just can't get any closer to him!

Tatsumi: That's fine. We can work like this until Koga-san and the others arrive.

Mayoi: Yes! Like this, I'll succeed in taking care of Hokuto-senpai properly ♪

Tatsumi: That's right, keep going, Mayoi-san.

Tomoya: ...Ah. Akehoshi-senpai sent me a text.

"Hokuto-senpai's doing just fine~!", it says.

Hm, there's a picture attached too... This is, Ayase-senpai feeding Hokuto-senpai?

I'm glad that Hokuto-senpai seems to be listening to Ayase-senpai seriously...

I have to thank Ayase-senpai properly. Let's get him a nice souvenir before returning home ♪

Tomoya: ....That aside, why does Ayase-senpai seem to be holding my clothes that should have been in the laundry basket?

[ ☆ ]

[beautifulpaprika]

Rivalry at the Manor

pairing: sorcerer!fem!reader x sorcerer!yeonjun

warnings: 18+, spice mixed with magic B)

summary: Yeonjun has stolen your father's affection all because he can do magic. You're going to prove to both of them you're better than him. Nothing will get in the way. Not even him.

word count: 9.1k

Masterlist✨

I watch Choi Yeonjun from afar as he swirls his hands in the air from the garden. The smile spreading on his face is the bane of my existence.

I take a bite out of my toast, my jaw tense and my mouth dry as I eat. The plate on our oak table sits in front of me, peaceful, but my body itself is anything but. 

The hardest part is watching my father fawn over him and tell him what a good job he’s doing. I can’t hear them, but I can already tell from the years of hearing it. 

“Oh, Yeonjun, you’re doing amazing!” “Oh Yeonjun, I’ve never seen anyone with your skills.” “Oh Yeonjun, there’s no one like you!” “Y/N, why can’t you be more like this charmer?” 

My fist slams into the table thinking about the smile on his face when he said that to me, but I wasn’t laughing. 

So what Yeonjun can do magic? I can too! 

Maybe I’ve never saved a cat from a tree with my mind or liftend a tree itself to get it out of the road, but I’ve written my name with a pencil- that I didn’t pick up! 

Even then, I couldn’t get a reaction from my father, not while “precious Yeonjun” was around. 

“Miss, are you done with that?” one of our ladies, Ellie, approaches me. I nod but before she can take the plate away, I stop her. 

“Ellie? Would you be able to help me out with something today? I’ll make sure you get extra pay this week,” I smile at her. She nods, a smile on her face.

“Of course, Miss!” 

***

Thump! The chair falls onto its side again and into the grass. I try not to show my frustration in front of Ellie who doesn’t react to any of my failures to lift the chair. 

This has been an ongoing activity for the entire day. I tried helping the delivery boy bring in heavy bags of food in, but even then, my magic failed. 

“Is the chair supposed to be on its side?” the last voice I wanted to hear chirps behind me. 

Yeonjun already has a smirk painted across his face, a shine in his eyes from watching me prove that he’s better. 

“Don’t you have something better to do with your time? Like running around playing do-gooder with my father?” I ask facing him now. He rolls his eyes at the last part before looking behind me again.

“Than this?” his wags his finger at the wooden chair. “Absolutely not. It’s a huge ego boost,” he steps closer. 

“As if you don’t have enough of that already,” I scoff. 

He approaches the red bench on the side and sits back to watch. 

“What’s a little more?” his head tilts and I hate that I used to have a crush on him, but when he does that, I can understand why I found him handsome, but now all I can seem to do is hate him. The way he can tease me but then act like the most innocent man in front of my father, the way he finds more ways to embarrass me, the way we aren’t even related and he somehow receives more love.

“When is it enough for you?” I ask, when the grin is still on his face. “Why can’t you leave me alone? You’ve already taken the only family I have, why do you-” his smile is fading. I stop myself, forbidding the tears from coming out when he’s here. I refuse to give him any more material to work with. 

I spin around to face Ellie who is unaffected by the tension. 

“I’d like to take a break, Ellie. I’ll come find you when I’d like to resume,” I smile at her. She bows her head and makes her way inside in a shuffle. 

I turn to Yeonjun, who’s still sitting on the bench, wondering if he’ll get the hint to move, but he scans my face. No sign of him getting ready to leave, so I make the first move to head to my room, but I don’t get past Yeonjun when he steps in front of me. 

My jaw aches from the way I’m grinding my teeth. 

“Leave. Me. Alone,” I try to step around him, but he blocks my way again. 

“Or what?” he asks. I take a deep breath, not allowing myself to be angered in front of him. “You feel that? The anger? You’re trying too hard to suppress it, when you need to use it.”

”Oh, give me a break Yeonjun. The last thing I want to do is listen to you,” I step around him again. If he thought I would believe he was trying to help me? He is severely mistaken. 

When I rush through the door, my father appears. 

“Y/N? What were you doing out there?” He peeks into the garden and spots Yeonjun, a look of understanding on his face. “You two haven’t been doing magic together have you?” He raises an eyebrow and I scoff at him in disbelief. 

“Of course not. I would never corrupt your precious toy,” I roll my eyes. 

“Y/N-“

”I need a shower,” and I walk around him the same way I did to Yeonjun thinking that the best option for me is simply to leave this house forever. 

***

The next day, my mission is not stopped and the chair is right back where it was. 

”Miss, I can grab you a glass of water if you think it will help,” Ellie proposes. 

I shake my head, not able to look up at her from keeling over and panting. 

When I do look, I try lifting the chair again. 

3. . . 2 . . . 1. Lift! Lift! And. . . Back on its side. 

“Damn it!” I yell out, and I couldn’t believe my eyes when the chair hits the bushes. Ellie mirrors me putting a hand over our mouths. 

“‘The last thing I would do is listen to you,’ she says,” Yeonjun appears from the corner of the garden while mocking me. 

“Were you spying on us?” I accuse. 

“That’s not what we’re discussing,” he waves me off. 

“You had no right-“

”Spare me the moral compass. I did it to help you,” I can’t even get a word in! ”You’ve been too busy trying to be perfect and nice - you’re doing it all wrong if you want to use your magic properly.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense-“

”You just did it!” He seems more excited than I am. 

I slowly turn to Ellie who is watching all of this go on. “You’re welcome to have your break,” I dismiss her. 

“Do I have to?” She asks. I give her a look that says “Go.” I roll my eyes when she giggles behind her hand and retreats from the garden. 

“You scared to say I’m right in front of others?” Yeonjun asks, resting on the same bench as yesterday. 

“A lady can always admit when she’s wrong,” I play with some of the leaves on the bushes to distract from the fact that he’s staring at me. 

“Do ladies also say “Damn it,” when they don’t get what they want?” I purse my lips. My cheeks flush at the fact that he heard me losing my composure. It wasn’t my proudest moment. 

I sit next to him on the bench and he tenses. 

“Look, Y/N, I want to help-“

”What’s going on out here?” My father’s voice booms and it’s as if even the birds have gone quiet.

”Shit,” Yeonjun mumbles. 

“Yeonjun, your practice was an hour ago,” he points to the watch on his wrist. And if I’m correct, I started messing with that chair for about an hour. He missed practicing his magic to watch mine. He said he wanted to help earlier, but why? It’s not like we’re friends. I’ve known Yeonjun since my father brought him here because of “stuff going on at home”, and he has never given any hint that he could help me. 

“I was-“ he gestured to me. 

“Yes, I see,” my father held his chin higher when he looks at me. I can see his guard come up when he talks to me and all I want is to understand. 

“I didn’t mean to go against what you wanted, but-“

”Yeonjun!” My father interrupts, “I don’t want another word,” he’s quieter. “Go inside.” 

“If you’ll hear me out-“

My father doesn’t say anything this time, he gives him a hard look that says “Do as I say or you’ll regret it.” 

Yeonjun pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, while taking a quick peek back at me, but eventually makes his way inside so that I’m left with my father. 

He watches Yeonjun disappear into the house before looking down at the ground, not even back to me. He mumbles something and I raise an eyebrow.

”Are you going to keep mumbling or are you going to tell me the reason you want to keep him and I apart?” I cross my arms. It’s never a good feeling to get hostile with my father, but it’s as if that’s the only thing he responds to these days. 

“Don’t act like you’re lovers who can’t be together. You’re hardly friends!” For a second, I imagine Yeonjun and I being forbidden lovers. Sneaky rendezvous in the middle of the night, a stolen kiss here and there behind a wall. 

God, I need someone to bed me and soon if Yeonjun is the one making my heart race. I peek at my father, wondering if he can hear it, but all he wears is dismay and disdain for me.

“Can you listen to the words your saying for a moment? You don’t even want us to get along? What is it? You think he’s much better than me and you’re too afraid it’ll rub off and suddenly you’ll have no reason to dislike me, your only child? Are you afraid you might actually want to take care of me for once?”

”That is all I have done! I’ve fed you, clothed you, made sure you were safe, and you want to claim like an ignorant child, that I have done nothing for you!” 

“You have done nothing that matters! You-” I stop myself, feeling the tears well up again. Yeonjun’s voice comes to the front  of my mind  about trying to be perfect and suppressing my strong emotions. “I need to meet with Ellie, she’s been waiting for some time inside.” As much as I would like to argue with him and tap into whatever Yeonjun was talking about, I need to buy time so that my father doesn’t find out I’m practicing. 

“This discussion isn’t done,” he calls after me. 

My shoes echo off of the walls when I step inside, and when I look up, Yeonjun is leaning against a wall, arms crossed and leaning back. 

“You said you could help me, right?” I ask. He nods in reply, still not moving from his spot. “Tomorrow We need to go somewhere, not in the garden. He’ll know where to find us if we do.” 

“I know a place,” he finally says. I purse my lips as we stare each other down, no one here to witness this. There are more words stuck in my throat, but I don’t let them escape when I turn away from him and make the trek back to my room. 

***

“I don’t see how this is going to help,” I roll my eyes as we walk through the market streets. My father typically hires people to come out here and get our food, it’s strange to see pictures come to life. 

“You’d think by now you would see that I know what I’m doing,” he holds an orange to his face and sniffs it, before scrunching his face and putting it back. 

“An explanation helps enforce trust.”

“Then what’s the point of the trust if you need an explanation?” he asks and I take his words into consideration. My mouth opens to come up with an answer, but a man approaches us, a smirk on his face, his dark hair slicked back, and a confidence in his walk. 

“Well, well,” he chirps. He’s making direct eye contact with Yeonjun, I look over to the man who’s rolling his eyes. Clearly, this is no friend of his. “Haven’t seen you in a while, especially here!” his hands spread to the bustling market. “Didn’t think I would ever see you again after last time,” his chuckle is deep and Yeonjun tenses. 

I examine his body language at the appearance of this man. 

What is the history between these two? 

“Lye. I see you’re still chasing after me even after all of these years. Does your father know you’ve been after me?” Yeonjun asks. The man standing across from us doesn’t seem so cocky after that comment. 

“Don’t worry about my father. You’ve done that enough,” he seethes. 

“Somebody has to, considering you’re out here and not with him. Then again, I would be worried even if you were with him,” this really seems to press the man’s buttons. He’s fuming now and steps forward. 

On instinct, I move between him and Yeonjun. 

Lye looks down at me and starts to laugh. 

“Yeonjun, I knew you could get low, but I didn’t know you would start using girls as your guard dogs,” he doesn't look at me as he says this - like I’m a bug he’s already stepped on. 

“If you were such a tough guy, you would look me in my face when you’re talking about me,” I spit. He rolls his eyes then glides them down to me. As his burning gaze meets mine, I’m starting to think it was better when he wasn’t addressing me. 

“You don’t know who you’re defending-”

“Oh, I do,” I roll my eyes, “If I’m the one defending him, you know it’s bad,” I mutter. 

“Gee, thanks,” Yeonjun mumbles behind me and Lye’s face starts to stretch into a smile. 

“But I need him. You can’t hurt him,” I say. 

“Fine,” his lips purse, “I’ll walk away,” he nods. 

I’m filled with a sense of pride. My words are more powerful than-

“Watch out!” Yeonjun yells when Lye picks up one of the oranges and throws it in our direction. I scoff up at Lye. 

“You-”

“If you thought for a second I was going to listen to you, you need another head screwed on. This one isn’t working,” he pokes a finger into my forehead. 

The blood in my veins rushes to the spot he poked - an anger that needs to be soothed now. I’ve taken enough demeaning comments from my own father, but I live with him. Who the hell is this man?

“Use the anger, Y/N,” Yeonjun whispers to me. 

Lye must have been angered by our secret exchange of words and his hands move to pick up a bin of bread and it hovers to move over us. Does everyone in this world know how to use magic except for me? 

The bin plummets down to hit us before Yeonjun uses his magic to redirect it to a far wall. 

We’re starting to gain an audience as some people scream and hide behind objects while others watch in awe. 

Lye picks up another bin of something, it takes Yeonjun redirecting it to the wall again and smashing it to find out it was a bin of jewelry. 

“Come on, Yeonjun. I thought that was your bodyguard! Why are you doing all the work?” he laughs again. “Oh. Oh, no. Don’t tell me she can’t use magic,” he makes a pouting face. I’ve felt useless before, but having Yeonjun watch me expectantly, relying on me- it’s new and uncomfortable. Everyone in the crowd is watching my 

“Stop suppressing it. Use instinct and emotion,” Yeonjun grits out to me. 

“Yeonjun, what’s the point? Fight me like a man, don’t put a woman between us, it would be too easy.”

“That was pretty rude actually,” my lips pout involuntarily and Yeonjun rolls his eyes.

Lye’s hand moves and I look beyond the crowd gathering to see a sword lifted above them. 

“You have to do it now, Y/N!” Yeonjun yells behind me. 

I need to use my emotions to my advantage. 

The sword swings high above. As it  swings back and forth, Lye taunting us, I think of the thing that angers me the most. 

Myself.

I think of why I couldn’t be good enough for my father. Why he chose Yeonjun over me despite me being his only child. Why I was never successful in the one thing he wanted me to be good at. 

I can’t even count to three before the tip aims at Yeonjun and it’s coming towards us. 

It’s not going to work! Yeonjun is going to die because of me! 

I close my eyes expecting to feel pain or to hear screams of agony from Yeonjun but they don’t come. The crowd murmurs and I move my hand away from my face. I almost collapse when the sword is held up hairs away from my face. 

“She’s got something in her after all!” Yeonjun jeers at Lye. I smack the feeling of pride I gain from his words considering it’s coming from Yeonjun. 

Lye’s jaw ticks and when the murmurs and chatter start to pick up from the crowd, he smirks a bit. 

“You won’t have to worry about me anymore,” and he flees. For a moment, I’m drowning in confusion, but Yeonjun rushes to me, offering a hand. 

“We need to go.”

“Why?” I whisper. 

As if we were meat hanging for a starving carnivore, the crowd’s faces are filled with pinched eyebrows and tense jaws. They’re out for blood. 

“Now, Y/N!” I take his hand as a man grabs a shovel from his stall. The murmuring develops into protest and shouting.

“Get your curses out of here!” 

“They’re going to kill us!” a mother cries. 

Our feet kick up dirt as Yeonjun drags me behind him, running in the direction back to the house - some citizens chasing us, others watching it unfold. 

***

I sat in the garden for a few hours staring into the bushes, but it’s as if they are not there. I’m stuck in my head, replaying the features etched onto the crowd’s face as they watched us. 

Fear. Hatred. 

“I knew you’d be wallowing, I didn’t know it would be this much,” Yeonjun’s voice appears from the darkness, knocking me out of my head. “My realization was only an hour,” he says.

“Realization of what?”

“That the magic you thought would help people, the one thing you might gain approval for, only makes them fear you,” the tone of his voice suggests he never did get over it. 

“Have they always been that way?” I ask. I have visited the town more times than I can count, but I suppose it was never long enough to hear their opinions on people using magic. 

Yeonjun responds by nodding his head. “They see it often,” he starts, “but because they don’t have an understanding of it, it’s not the most accepted activity,” he explains. I nod my head. 

“Why did that guy have it out for you?” Lye did not seem like someone who has a small grudge against Yeonjun. He was willing to kill him. “Did you steal his parents away from him too?” I’m not sure what urges me to ask the question.

“He thinks I did,” he answers. I stare him down, trying to find any sign that he’s joking, but there is no sign. He doesn’t say he’s joking. “Linus is sick - has been for a long time,” his face contorts, struggling to get more words out. “My parents died when I was very young and I didn’t have anyone to take care of me,” I gulp, not ready to have sympathy for someone I envy. “Linus caught me stealing, but he ultimately felt bad for me.”

“And he took you in,” I interrupt. He nods. 

“He knew he was sick. Memories were slipping away and so was his health. He taught his son magic already, but he wanted to teach me before I ended up on the streets again. As you could see from the near death encounter earlier, Lye was not happy I was getting his father’s last moments.”

“No kidding.” 

“But he was my first and only father figure too. Lye tried to kill me at least three times before I decided it wasn’t worth my life,” he ends. I think about my father who was so happy to have Yeonjun shown up at his door offering magic services. I wasn’t the favorite anymore. 

“So, Linus was your first, and my father is your second,” I say out loud. 

“I wasn’t planning that. The plan was to work for him and have enough money to leave - go to a whole different town so that I never have to see Lye again.” 

“Why are you still here then?” 

His lips pry open for a second flashing a bit of the white of his teeth, his eyes moving away from the sky and looking into mine. I swallow, anticipating his answer. 

“I found something,” he says. His eyes move to my lips and I shake my head more confused now than I was before. “Your father told me I shouldn’t approach you, but I saw it as a challenge,” he continues. I continue to shake my head. “Yeonjun, you’re not-”

“I knew I’d find you two here,” my father’s face appears behind the bush, the moonlight hitting his face. He always has the perfect timing - then again if we wanted to be more secretive, we should have chosen a spot he’s never caught us in before. 

“Sir-”

“Don’t worry, Yeonjun,” I interrupt, “I wanted to talk to him anyway,” I purse my lips, a sign of his dismissal. There’s no reason Yeonjun needs to listen to me, but he exits the garden nonetheless. 

“There’s nothing to talk to me about. You’ve been out in town without my knowledge and putting yourself in danger!”

“Why have you been telling Yeonjun not to approach me? Why are you so afraid of him teaching me magic? If you think he’s better than me, and you’ve always wanted a son instead of me then just say that!” I feel a sting in my eye on the last sentence, and for the first time, I let myself feel in front of him. I let the tear slip so he can see the agony he’s caused me, if he even cares. 

His face does change. 

“Y/N-”

“You were supposed to be my father! Even more after my mother passed away! Time and time again I try to get your attention, time and time again you’re never on my side and when I finally do something that you have been praising him for non-stop, you want to shut me down!” 

“I have never wanted to replace you,” he says. “You are my daughter, I-” he stops. “I’ve been helping Yeonjun for you, not against you,” he tries to reach out for me, but I take a step back. 

“I don’t know what kind of manipulation you’re trying to pull, but I already know that’s not true. You haven’t done anything for me since he showed up. If you’ll excuse me ,I have a bit more practice to do,” I walk past him to go back inside. 

“Keep practicing, Y/N. It’s not going to save you from the mob waiting for you out there,” I almost stop in my tracks. My feet fidget, but I’m able to keep myself up and move inside. Yeonjun is waiting for me again. 

“I would prefer my father doesn’t come in here to see us talking. We need to go somewhere more private,” I suggest. His eyes flick around my face, his shoulders a bit more stiff.  “Don’t go getting any ideas now,” I tease. He closes his eyes, shaking his head.

“I wasn't thinking of it until you brought it up.”

“So, you’re thinking about it now?” I look back at him, an eyebrow arched. 

“Do you want me to lie?” he asks quietly. My mouth flops open and closed similar to a fish on land, not knowing how to answer the question. A smirk paints his face and he steps around me to walk, the sound of his shoes hitting tile slowly fading. I turn and do my best to catch up. 

My mouth is shut as I follow him into a room - one I have never seen before. 

He opens the door, revealing a bedroom. The bed is large and shoved into the left corner furthest from the door and the window. A desk sits on the other side, nearest the window, a stack of paper the only decorations I spot. A stack of books sits on the floor. 

There are no signs of any other hobbies other than this stack of books, the spines titled “Magic Among Other Things”, “Beginner’s Guide to Magic”, and the one that catches my eye, “Women Wooing Witchcraft”. 

“This one must be your favorite,” I hold up the book with the silhouette of a woman on the cover. He blushes, snatching it from my hands. 

“It’s proven useless so far,” he throws it onto the bed, it sparks a thought on how easy would it be to throw me on the bed. Would he use magic or his arms? 

My eyes trail to the very thing sliding through my mind. His arms flex while he cleans up the space. How much strength-

“Y/N!” Yeonjun has an eyebrow raised and my face heats. Caught red-handed. 

“Did you say something?”

”Something on your mind?” He asks. I shake my head a bit too quickly. 

“That book . . .” I point back to the one he is still carrying. “Has it worked for you?” 

He looks at the book then back to me. 

“Why?” 

“None of your business,” I argue. 

“If you want information, then I’d say it is my business,” his arms cross, keeping the book guarded with his biceps, the ones I couldn’t keep my eyes off of earlier, and am struggling to keep my eyes off of now. 

I hesitate, but ultimately find myself agreeing.

”It’s been tough the past couple of years. Love hasn’t been easy and I don’t plan on staying here. A way out of here is marriage,” I confess.  Marriage wasn't always my initial plan on leaving, but I recently realized that I have no money or connections to move out on my own, not yet anyway. 

His eyes flash, a bit of panic crossing his face. 

“Do you have someone in mind already?” He questions.

”No,” I sit on his bed. “I haven’t set the plan in motion, but that’s why,” my hand gestures to the book still in his hand, “I need to know if that worked out enough for you.”

A lump forms in his cheek from poking it with his tongue. He’s silent for a few moments, the book slapping against his hand, before the mattress dips beside me, his leg touching mine. 

“It hasn’t,” he confesses. “But I haven’t gotten a chance to try it on someone,” his fingers fidget with the cover of the book. 

“You have to try!” I urge. 

“Why do you care?”

“I have to know if it works.”

“And who would you use it on?” his fingers stop playing with it and he looks up to finally meet my eyes. 

I gasp, his gaze taking me off guard. There’s an intense feeling behind those eyes but I can’t place it. 

“Well, I-I haven’t thought about it m-”

“How would you use it, if you don’t know who to use it on?” He searches my face. There’s something he’s not telling me - something I’m not sure I want to know. 

“I’ll tell you, if you tell me who you plan to use it on.” He flinches at my proposal, his eyelashes fluttering. “It’s only fair. You have the book for a reason, so who is it?” I move my leg so that my legs are on the bed between us.

He clears his throat. 

I’m picturing the garden, his face when he told me found someone. 

Your father told me I shouldn’t approach you, but I saw it as a challenge, was what he said. Was the book meant for me? I was hoping we could have changed the subject back to Lye, but it seems that’s not going to be possible with the track we’re on - the track that leads to him possibly confessing he harbors feelings for me. 

“Before you say anything else,” I say, “Tell me. Did my father really restrict you from  chasing after me?” 

“Y/N-”

“Please.” I cringe internally at the way my voice is meek. 

“Yes,” he confesses. 

“Why?” 

“We should talk about it tomorrow,” his hand raises to rub two fingers on the sides of his head. 

“Swear it,” I demand. He sighs, looking up at me. His face contorts, ready to protest, but the same features relax.

“I swear.” 

***

“How did you do that so easily?” I cry at the flower in Yeonjun’s fist. The same flower was a rock halfway buried in the sand a minute ago. The waves crash against the shore, the ocean luring me with its sounds to drop this magic practice and jump in the waters. 

The place is barren with not a soul around but the crabs that creep through the sands every once in a while, and there isn’t a single tree around at risk of burning from my oh-so-spectacular magic skills.

Yeonjun laughs. There have been few times I’ve gotten to hear Yeonjun’s genuine laugh. It’s one from his chest and vibrates in my bones. So I take this one into my memory and lock it in. 

The same image of him laughing replays in my head once, twice, before I start wondering when I started to care. Before, I would have never given his laugh or the idea of him being happy a second thought unless it was out of jealousy that he was sharing it with my father. However, even then, his smile didn’t spread as wide, his laugh not as deep. It’s relieving and terrifying at the same time. 

He takes the sunflower dancing between his fingers and tips the top of it toward me. I look at the flower then back to his face.

“For you.” I take his words in, first analyzing them. There is no teasing tone, or hint that he has trapped the flower to prick me. 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to pursue me,” I raise an eyebrow, laying a tentative finger onto the stem. 

“I never said this was a romantic gesture,” he smirks, a slight tilt of his head. 

My jaw clenches and I take the flower and sniff the petals, hoping it will hide the flames rising from my neck to my cheeks. I thank him, wondering if he could hear me over the crashing waves. I’ve never been given a flower before. 

“Remember, use your emotions,” Yeonjun spins me out of my thoughts with his new advice. “The anger inside of you, use it again.” 

“But -” I stop myself, and clear my throat. My eyes travel to the spot where multiple rocks are sitting atop and some are buried beneath the sand. I place the flower in the ground to lean on one of the boulders with the utmost care. 

I hold the rock, my grip firm and caging it in my fingers. My hand holds it out to the waters and I focus. Focus on the anger simmering whenever I look at my father. 

I try. I try hard to channel the emotion. 

“Close your eyes, envision the flower you want and take it,” his whisper pushes his breath into my ears, sending shivers to the tips of my fingers where the rock . . . is still a rock. My mind flushes every thought other than transforming this earth into life. 

I peer one of my eyes to open to peek at my hand- still a rock. 

“Damn it!” I nearly throw it to the ground. 

“Do the same thing you did when you stopped the sword. Think of your anger-”

“It wasn’t anger!” I confess. I turn to be inches from his face, causing me to reel back. My heel sticks into the sand and my stomach drops. 

“Y/N!” he calls for me before a hand wraps around my waist pulling me to him. I try not to breathe for the sake of not having my chest touch his. “You need to be more careful,” his voice is low, and his breathing is heavier - the opposite of me. His eyes travel behind me. I follow, turning my head to glance at the rock sticking out of the sand, right where my head would have landed. 

My head feels clipped when I face him again. 

“Thank you,” I whisper. His gaze drops to my lips moving. His face is the perfect angle where if I were to lean forward just a touch-

Yeonjun pulls me to stabilize my body back in the sand. 

“What did you mean it wasn’t anger?” he asks. 

I purse my lips. I was hoping he would have forgotten about that. 

“When I tried using my father to stop the sword, it didn’t work, but,” I avoid eye contact with him as I say, “I saw Lye was aiming for you. He was going to kill you. I was afraid you would die and it would be all my fault.” I let the words slip out. Letting Yeonjun know I care for him was not on my agenda for the day. 

“Fear. That’s what must have helped you,” his tone is very matter of fact, as if there could be no other answer. 

“Yes. Fear. But there is no risk of you dying while I am shapeshifting this rock into a flower.”

“There doesn’t need to be. All you have to do is put yourself back there- in that moment where you realized I was going to die.” 

I gasp. I do imagine the sword piercing him, but for a second before I shut that out of my mind. 

“Stop it. Don’t say anything that preposterous again! Nature has ears and has a funny way of making things come true.”

“Ha! If that were true you would-” the air freezes as he does. A cough rumbles his throat and up to his mouth that opens.

“If you say anything other than what you were going to finish that sentence with, I’m afraid I’m not interested in hearing it.” Please, finish the sentence! I thought. Whatever it was, was personal. 

“You don’t want me to finish it,” he challenged with a smirk on his face. 

I tell myself I don’t have any clue what he was going to say, but then I’d be lying to myself. The gleam in his eye gives me a hint to what it is, but I have an inkling it will sound better coming from him. 

“Please,” I whisper. “Finish it.” 

HIs smirk is gone and his eyelashes flutter, noticing my desperation. 

“If that were true, I would . . .” I start for him, taking a step forward at the same time has an intake of breath. “Yeonjun?” I urge. 

“If that were true, you would be naked on this very same beach, wind sneaking sand into your mouth because it’s open from moaning my name.” 

My eyes widen at his revelations. I wasn’t prepared for the bit of detail. Did he think about this often? 

His hooded eyes watch me for my next move despite myself not knowing my next move. 

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” he asks.

“Why? Why me? Of all the girls you could have and you choose to chase me and now of all times. I want to know why.” The thought of him wanting me as a way to spite my father is one that continues to tickle my brain. 

He’s not affected by my question. 

“I’ve always had my eye on you. You’re the reason I found your family in the first place,” he says. I’m slapped back into reality and away from my vision of lust. “When I was driven away by Lye, I naturally ended up on the streets. You and your father were in the same place I was - the only difference is I was in the back of the restaurant and you were in it.”

“You-” I realize. 

***

“There’s something you and I need to discuss, Y/N,” my father says before taking a bite out of his cheesecake.

“Father, I would swear this is the fifth time you’ve wanted to discuss the rules before I go to Key Mage,” I laugh, not in the mood for another lecture. 

“You’re not going to Key Mage,” his words cause time to freeze, the piece of cheesecake not too far from my mouth before I set it back on the plate. 

“You promised . . .” I keep my tone in check, not wanting to feel the anger rising. “You said I would get the chance to learn magic and now you’re taking it away?” 

“I’ve decided it simply isn’t best,” his voice has no emotion. No regret. No remorse.

“You can’t keep me away from it forever!” I slam the napkin on the table, allowing the small bit of anger release. “My mother may have died as a result of magic, but she wouldn’t have wanted this!” I hiss before leaving the restaurant, my father’s calls drawing eyes to me. 

Soon enough, the stifling air is replaced with that of the city and its dark sky. 

Tears sting my eyes, but there are too many people around, so I make an escape into the alley letting the dark protect me. I don’t get the chance to let my tears fall when I hear grunting only a few feet away. 

I look further into the alley to see the silhouette of a man standing over another. 

“Take,” he kicks him, earning another grunt, “that hideous magic of yours elsewhere!” Another kick. 

“Stop it! Stop it!” I push the man back. “What do you think you’re doing?” With the bit of light under the moon, I notice the man’s crooked grimace. 

“You clearly don’t know what this is, lady,” the man says. I’ve decided to tune out his hatred when I see the man whom he was kicking has blood dripping down the side of his mouth. He’s awake, but has injuries all over. “He has magic. He doesn’t belong here,” the man behind me continues to spit. 

I pay him no mind, only running my fingers through the bloodied man’s hair. There is no perfect way to describe how he looks at me. Confusion, relief, and exhaustion are written all over his face. 

“You’re okay,” I whisper. 

“Lady, you want to keep him as a pet? Be my guest. But when he brings hell and bad luck to you, don’t say nobody warned ya’,” he leaves me with his oh-so-great wisdom before leaving me and the man alone. 

“Why were you out here?” I ask, examining some of the cuts on his head. He moves to sit up against the wall while I continue to look at his state. 

He says nothing yet, but plays with a box sitting next to him. His finger play with the top enough for me to peek at some rice, half eaten. 

“You’re looking for food,” I conclude out loud. His nose scrunches and his gaze avoids mine, neither confirming or denying - not with words anyway. “I’ll be right back,” I tell him, heading back into the restaurant where my father was silently finishing his cake. 

The rest of the evening was spent with quiet glances between us, before I finally found an opportunity to bring a dessert back to the man in the alley.

***

“I haven’t forgotten about you, Y/N,” Yeonjun’s thumb grazes my bottom lip. “I followed you and your father that night home. I meant to knock on your door the very same night, but when you arrived, I heard an argument about Key Mage Academy. I heard you were willing to learn, but that your father denied you.” 

The anger I felt the night he told me I wasn’t going hasn’t died down. I can feel it now. 

“My intention was always to approach you first. But your father . . . he caught me trying to sneak up to your window,” he laughs, fondly I should add. “I was using magic to balance chairs on top of one another. Now that I think about it, should’ve used a ladder instead,” he continues. I smile at that. “He recruited me. ‘Said I would have a home to come home to, a place to practice magic, and that my job was to protect you from the people in town who know about your family and the ones in town who remember your mother, but my interactions with you would be limited. Was it hell that the beautiful woman who took care of me was out of reach? Of course,” his eyes are not meeting mine, his thoughts further away than this moment, “but you were closer than before. The part I hadn’t anticipated,” his eyes come back to mine, “was you so passionately hating me. You didn’t even remember me.” 

“To be fair, you were in different attire and you had a new aura to you from when my father introduced the two of us. I could hardly recognize you,” I pluck at the more luxurious clothing sitting on him. 

“I guess after that, you couldn’t recognize me through your rage,” the hand still caressing my face, moves to my waist, where he yanks me closer. “How strong is your anger now, Y/N?” 

My mouth feels dry when his eyes lock into mine. I’m convinced not even an explosion can pull this man’s gaze away. 

“I’d say my anger has disappeared now,” I whisper. My heart feels like it’s ready to jump from my chest when he leans in closer. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” his sentence ends with his lips pressed against mine. I’ve never seen or heard of Yeonjun with another woman, so I’m shocked when I find he is an amazing kisser. Our lips mold together perfectly. It doesn’t feel rushed or sloppy as I rest my hands comfortably on his neck. It’s magical. 

Tingling spreads through my whole body. Not the kind that people typically describe when it comes to a kiss - one rooted from nerves, excitement, or lust - this is different. It is literal magic. Wisps of energy and emotion mix between us and it’s more addicting than the desire that I have for Yeonjun. 

He signals that he can feel it too when he groans into my mouth. 

“Y/N,” he sighs. We break away long enough to see the gold in his eyes. 

“Your eyes,” I warn. 

“They’re gold, aren’t they?” his hand comes up to caress my face as I nod. “So are yours,” he tells me. 

“What does it mean?” I ask, trying to find my own meaning in his eyes, staring deep in the flecks shimmering. 

“Our magic was made for each other. Here,” he pulls away from me and it’s a loss for my arms. He bends down to sit in the sand and I follow him. The same rock I dropped earlier is the one he hands to me. “Try turning it into a flower now, but focus,” he takes my hand and pulls me to lean into him, “on this,” he kisses me again, this time with a little more hunger, a little more bite, but I can still feel the magic flowing through us. 

“Yeonjun,” I sigh between kisses, his fist tightens on my hair at the back of my neck. 

“Change it,” he demands. Pulling me even closer to where the rock is the last thing on my mind and I choose to position both of my legs on either side of him. “Change the rock, Y/N,” his voice sounds more pleading now as he moves to make ministrations on my neck. 

“I can’t focus-”

“You can,” his hips move up into me and my mouth pries open in a moan. I thank everything on this earth that there is no one around. 

“You’re making it very difficult,” I tell him. Even with the round earth in my hand, I’m able to run both my hands into his hair and down his skin. Every inch is filled with energy and light. 

“I would lose a lot of confidence if I wasn’t,” he chuckles into my neck. “Now change it,” I squeal when he rolls us over, my back in the sand. 

“Oh,” is all I say when he tugs at his shirt, pulling it off. “Are you sure this is a good place to - mmm!” my worries are suppressed by his lips again, but I can’t pretend that him being on top doesn’t bother me. I use my strength (with the help of a bit of magic) to roll us again however, this time I am the one in control. 

We switch roles when I start to kiss up his neck, rewarding me with a sigh that escapes his lips. 

“You think this is your moment?” I whisper, ‘You’ve had enough moments taken from me, don’t you think?” 

“I didn’t mean-”

“Sh,” my thumb grazes his lips, “You’ve done enough,” and suddenly there is no longer a rock in my hand, but something much more useful. My hands graze his sides as I slide them to his arms, pulling them upwards. “You may not know it, Yeonjun, but you  have been controlling many aspects of my life - I’m at least going to get the chance to control this one.”

His hands are together above his head when I take the rope and tie it around them. 

“Y/N, wait-”

“Relax. If you’re good, I might let you out of them,” I tease him, my smile touching his lips. He’s hesitant for a moment, but his muscles finally relax. “You’ve put me through quite a bit when it came to us practicing magic. Should I put you through some trials as well?” 

“If you were good at things like turning a rock into a flower, maybe I wouldn’t have to put you through so many trials,” he argues. I should be taking offense, but the smirk on his face tells me it’s a tactic to get his control back. 

“You’ve got a big mouth for someone who is tied up,” my nails graze his abdomen and up to his chest, his breaths grow heavier, forcing his chest to push into mine. “Stay,” I instruct, before lifting myself up and standing to drag my undergarments down my legs beneath my dress. His eyes follow my movement. 

“Was that supposed to be tempting?” he asks, a tick in his voice. 

“It worked, didn’t it? Or are you trying to break out of your restraints to run away?” I’m about to sit on his lap when he stops me by clearing his throat. 

“We should be even shouldn’t we?” he eyes the same pants with a very noticeable bulge. 

“I have your permission?” I ask. As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I know it was a mistake. I’ve given him some of the control back and he knows it the moment I do by the way his lips pull up in a tug. 

“Is that even a question right now?” he responds. It’s difficult to comprehend how Yeonjun could go from my worst enemy to him asking me to take his pants off on the beach. 

Nonetheless, I answer to his request and loosen his buckle to drag them down. It’s a bit of a struggle at first, but my new magic allows me to pull them off effortlessly exposing his bare skin and the very thing causing the tent shape. 

“You’re doing so well with your magic,” his soft tone shoots straight to my stomach as it flips, “but I don’t want anymore of that,” he looks down then back up.

“What is it that you want?” My core rests on his bare skin, spreading my wetness up and down his length. 

He winces at the new touch, “Y/N,” he groans. “You know what I want,” he’s gasping for it at this point. 

“You haven’t even said “Please”,” I push, continuing to move. He doesn’t first, his jaw clenched while he watches me. “Yeonjun,” I moan before stopping. 

“Please,” he immediately gasps.

I slide over him again, this time also leaning down and kissing him. I can feel the magic coursing through the both of us again, and it’s all I need to sit up and hover over him. His eyes swirl with gold as he watches me lift the skirt of my dress and slide him into me. 

His name is sweet on my tongue and the feeling is heavenly.

I bounce on him while I spot his arms struggling in the rope. 

“Y/N,” he gasps when my nails start to dig into his chest, “Y/N, please let me out of this rope, please,” his words are choppy, but I understand what he wants - however, I won’t give that control. He realizes this when I shake my head, slow. 

My mind is starting to melt and all I can see is Yeonjun and the sand underneath him. I clench around him and slow down my movements for the sole reason of torturing him. I wouldn’t be able to get tired with the magic keeping me up. 

“Fuck this,” he mutters. Smoke emerges from the rope around his hands and, in a flash, Yeonjun is able to break free and sand kicks up in a flurry when he flips us and my back is in the sand again. 

I don’t have a chance to scold him when he’s inside me again. I was afraid to loosen the leash and let him take charge, but knowing I’ve tortured him enough to burn the rope is enough satisfaction. He doesn’t let my womanhood stay under my clothing enough and I feel the sea breeze touching every inch. 

All of the feeling starts to overwhelm me but not in a way that stresses me, instead in a way where my brain is starting to malfunction. My concerns about control wither away when he gasps my name into my ear. 

My nails dig into Yeonjun one more time as he drives me to the edge where he meets me in bliss. 

His body weight collapses onto me and we stay breathing together until we’re sick of the sand and the ocean. 

***

Yeonjun and I spend the evening together in my room. He suggested his in the beginning, but considering my father never comes in to check on me, I knew my more decorated bedroom would be the more stealthy option. 

He makes love to me two more times before we relax into our pillow talk session. My arm rests on his middle and our legs tangle. 

“Could you burn through the rope the whole time?” I throw the question into the dark. 

“Yes, but I wanted to indulge you. For a bit anyway,” I can hear the smirk on his face. 

“Don’t worry. I just wanted you to wriggle a bit for the torture yuo’ve caused throughout the years.”

He doesn’t say anything to that at first. 

“Do you still think I am your enemy, Y/N?”

“Of course not! You’ve done the one thing my father could never do - you told me the truth and you showed me how to use magic,” I cuddle closer to him when I’m reminded of the favor he has done for me. 

“Which . . . “ he sits up, the absence of his warmth disappointing, “I have a gift for you.” 

In one hand he holds a candle that he lights with his finger, and in the other hand he holds a folded piece of paper. I recognize the symbol stamped on the front. 

“Wait. Is that-?” 

“From Key Mage? Absolutely,” he kisses my cheek and hands it over to me. “Open it.”

“But how did you know?”

Yeonjun sets the candle onto the bedside table.

“You and your father had a few loud arguments for a few weeks while I was . . . creeping around,” he explains. I scoff and start to rip the letter open. “I used the excuse with your father that it was me who was applying, instead I filled it out with your information. I only slightly lied about your magical abilities at the time, but now,” he moves down to my neck, “you’ve accomplished even more than that.” 

All I have to read are the words “You’ve been accepted,” and it’s enough to throw myself onto Yeonjun again, laughter bubbling up and into his mouth.

“Thank you. Thank you!”

“All I did was move pen on paper-”

“No.” I stop him. “You did more than that. You’re the first person in years to believe in me.”

“Pretty soon your father will too.”

I picture my father being proud of me and sitting in the audience while I’m surrounded by people who are like me and walking the stage with me. I see Yeonjun there with a smile on his face. Suddenly my father is an option. It would be nice to have him during my success, but I realize I have to let his opinion go until he’s ready. 

“I don’t care what he thinks anymore. I don’t even care that he wanted to keep us from interacting. I’m ready to move on from this house and this life. Just promise you’ll keep teaching me spells from that book you got because of me.”

“I never said it was because of you.”

“You didn’t have to. I saw a few of the notes in there,” I chuckle. “‘Y/N might like this one’ you wrote under the transformation into a flower spell. ‘This could benefit me when we finally f’- mmm!” He interrupts me with a rough kiss. 

“I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve for you. A lot more than what was in that book.”