#please enjoy their journey this fine morning))

[magistralucis]

@absolut--kurant!

[endlessthxxghts]

Breakfast

Husband!Joel Miller (no outbreak) x afab!Reader

Summary: Your usual Saturday morning routine with your husband takes a turn, for the better. W/C: supposed to be 1k as per my celebration rules, but... it is now 2k... Oops... I’m sure y’all don’t mind😚. 18+ MDNI: Implied age gap (8 years per request hehe<3). Feminine pet names. Oral sex (reader recieving). Implied domesticity kink. Slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Soft Dom!Joel. Dom/sub undertones. Joel being a check-in king (safe word system in action, we love good communication). P in V unprotected. Breeding kink (y'all should expect this from me from now on LOL). ONE (1) USE OF "DADDY" (I had to, I'm not sorry). Sweet sweet aftercare.

A/N: This is in response to this request made by @survivingandenduring for my 1k follower milestone celebration. I remember you being one of the first to accompany me on my journey, and now that we're here together celebrating something I'm so humbly honored to experience, it feels so surreal. I love and appreciate your existence so so very much. Thank you.💚 I hope y'all enjoy!! (Pics for aesthetic purposes only)

MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION

Saturday mornings are your favorite. They’re lazy. They’re warm. They’re spent wrapped completely in the arms of your husband, Joel Miller. Whether it’s your lips or your limbs tangled in between the sheets—Saturday mornings are for you and him. 

So when you woke up this morning to the other half of your bed colder than usual, you woke up with a frown. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you pull yourself to the restroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, not bothering to change out of your sleep clothes since you made Joel promise you that you guys weren’t going anywhere today.

“Darlin’?” His Southern twang calls out. 

“In the bathroom, baby,” you respond, rubbing in the last of your face cream. 

With a soft knock to your door, he’s entering, a crooked grin at the sight of you. You can’t help the grin that breaks across your face—no matter how long you two have been married, the bashfulness of two teenagers crushing on each other will never go away. 

“Good mornin’, beautiful,” his gruff voice rasps, walking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his lips ghosting the sweet spot below your ear. 

“Good morning, handsome,” you reply, leaning your body into his large, warm form. 

“Come back to bed,” he whispers, his face burying itself deeper into the crook of your neck. 

“Where’d you go?” You ask, not particularly liking the fact that you didn’t wake up with him this morning. 

Joel turns you in his hold so you’re facing him now. “I’m sorry, my love, I thought I’d be quicker than I was,” he tells you, catching the tone of disappointment in your voice. “I went to make you some breakfast,” he admits. “Nothin’ fancy, I just- I wanted you to eat.”

You narrow your eyes at him, flashing him a small smirk. “What’s your motive, Miller?” 

“Uh-” he stutters, not expecting that from you. “No motive, baby. What, a man can’t make sure his lady eats?” An exaggerated offensiveness evident in his inflection as he speaks. 

“Please,” you giggle. “Every Saturday, like clockwork, I either wake up with your tongue, cock, or fingers inside of me,” you state matter-of-factly. “Why breakfast now?” you ask, your eyebrow quirked up, his signature look. You cross your arms over your chest for good measure. 

Damn, you’re good. And damn, he’s so fucking in awe of you. “Fine,” he relents. “The last few times… after we’re done… you get super jittery and lightheaded. Like your blood sugar is low or somethin’. I dunno, I just, I don’t wanna be pulling so much energy from you, especially on an empty stomach.”

Your jaw would be on the floor right now if it wasn’t attached to you. Oh. My. God. You knew what you were getting into, marrying a Southern gentleman and an older one at that; and you knew just how considerate a lover Joel Miller was, but it never fails to leave your heart—and your pussy—fluttering at how attentive your man is. You are so damn lucky. 

Going back to the room and settling on the bed, Joel climbs up beside you and feeds you your breakfast—one of your absolute favorite combos: a greek vanilla yogurt, your favorite granola, and chopped up fresh strawberries. You make this almost every morning, but something about him making it just makes it taste a thousand times better—leaving your body energized for what was next to come… because shit, did you need it. 

“Joel,” you sob, tears falling from your eyes as they fight to stay open. 

He lifts himself off your cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal. “Gimme one more, darlin’, then I’ll give you my cock,” he tells you, his heavy breath fanning across your spent center. 

“Joel, I-” you whimper, “I can’t.” Your hips bucking into his face says otherwise. He taps your hip three times. Safe word? He silently asks. One tap for green, two taps for a yellow, three taps for red—an immediate stop. Your hand nearly ripping his curls out of his head softens, tapping his neck once as you attempt to gain your breath back, soft whines blessing his ears. 

He nips the inside of your thigh before he speaks again. “You can,” and then he’s diving back in, tongue breaching your entrance as his nose rubs perfectly at your clit, hurtling you towards your third orgasm of the morning. 

“Oh, fuck-” you nearly scream, head pushing into your pillow with your eyes clamped shut, back arching off the bed. Joel throws his arm across your lower belly, keeping you down and open for him as he licks you through your high. 

Finally, he relents with a satisfied smile, placing a chaste kiss to your clit. “Knew you could give me another, my darlin’ girl.”

“Mmm, baby, please,” you say, reaching for his jaw to bring his face to yours. Not yielding to your touch completely, he brings himself up slow—the tip of his nose dragging up your naked body, Joel placing open-mouthed kisses up your belly, up your sternum, all the way to your lips, your arousal lingering with his own flavors in a deep, needy kiss. 

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says into your lips, nipping your swollen lip before pulling away to let you speak. 

“N-need you,” you breathe, desperate. You bring your hands down to his boxer-clad bulge, your fingers causing him to twitch. 

Joel tuts, pulling your hand away and bringing it up to the side of your head, his large hand holding it down. “And I need you,” he says, biting your lip again, “to use your words, baby. C’mon,” he urges. Outside of the bedroom, you are very outspoken—this morning’s interaction as evidence—yet, when you find yourself a writhing, moaning mess underneath him, all words are stolen from your brain, all the breath is stolen from your lungs.

“Please,” you start, more determination this time. “I need you inside me, Joel, please fuck me.” You hike your legs higher up, your thighs hugging his waist as you shift your hips, your wet center rubbing against him. 

“Such a good girl f’me,” he praises, sitting up to guide his boxers down, leaving you with a complete unobstructed view of his tanned and toned naked body, his soft tummy turning the pupils of your eyes into hearts. He’s so fucking sexy, and, well fuck, you just said that out loud. 

Joel blushes, leaning back over you to kiss your forehead and your lips before he’s lining himself up with you, his sensitive tip breaching your entrance at a slow pace, his girth thick enough to stretch you every single time in all your years of marriage. 

Your eyes slowly shut as he kisses at your neck. The depth he’s able to reach as he slowly pumps in and out of you, the pubic hairs at his base rubbing against your clit, his deep groans making butterflies erupt in your belly—everything is utterly consuming your body, forcing your already sensitive body to your fourth orgasm of the morning fairly quickly. 

Joel is rocking at a steady pace, one hand underneath your lower back while his other cups the back of your head, his fingers rooting themselves into the base of your hair and applying a slight pressure, knowing the sensation drives you absolutely wild. The moan that floats through the air is enough for Joel’s cock to twitch inside of you, threatening to release at any moment. With all his strength, he lifts his head up from your neck to hover above your own, reveling in the furrow of your brows and the needy gasps coming from your throat. 

“Darlin’,” he rasps. 

“Mhm,” you squeak, unable to form any words. 

“Look at me,” he tells you, hips speeding up. He knows he’s only making it harder for you. 

Your eyes slowly peel open, but your eyes immediately roll back, the pleasure making your mind go numb. 

At your action, Joel is slowing, his hips coming to a near halt. That gets your eyes open. “J-Joel? Baby?” you call, your voice quivering with frustration. You were getting close. 

“Need those pretty eyes on me, darlin’,” he explains, his hips only starting back up because of your eye contact. 

“Y-yes, baby, okay,” you reply shakily, wanting to do anything for him to continue. 

He moves in and out of you again, incorporating a delicious slow grind with every push in. The pleasure is too fucking much, and your eyelids are slipping again even though you’re trying with every ounce of your strength to keep your gaze fixed on him, you fail. 

Again, his hips come to a painful stop. “Darlin’,” he warns. “You stop, I stop.”

“I-” you cry. “Joel, I can’t.” Tears pool at your waterline. 

His hand comes to your face, his thumb catching the runaway tear. “You can, baby, and you will.” It isn’t a request. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping Joel as close to you as possible, his breathing keeping you grounded as you attempt to keep your eyes on his. Satisfied with your attempt so far, Joel starts moving, and this time, he completely lets go. Thrusting into you not too fast or not too slow—and he’s going hard, every push would make you slide slightly up the bed if he weren’t holding onto you the way that he is. 

Your eyes flutter, not shutting completely but not staying open, and Joel makes a warning sound, his mouth spewing filth to keep you focused on him. 

“Need to see those pretty eyes while you flutter ‘round me.”

“Don’t you wanna be filled? I know you want it—crave it.”

“Keep them eyes on me, babygirl. I’ll give you what you want, just lemme see you.”

“Fuck, Joel, please-!” you scream, your hips thrusting on their own accord, your climax shattering throughout your entire body. 

“Thaaat’s it, baby, atta girl,” he moans out, the sensation of you sending his eyes nearly to the back of his head. “Fuckin- give it to me, baby, just like that.” 

“Sh- shit, baby, fuck-” you cry, “please, Joel, please.” 

“Please what, baby? Use your words,” Joel rushes, chasing his own release as he pushes you through yours. 

“Please- please cum inside me, daddy, fuck- needa feel you,” you sob, your fingers gripping onto his back muscles, leaving bright red scratches in their wake as he rails you into the mattress. 

“Yeah, baby? I’ll- oh, fuck-” he whines, his balls pull taut, his tummy muscles clenching, and within seconds, he’s cumming inside you, the sticky warmth covering every inch inside of you, leaking out of your entrance as he continues his movements, slowing himself down to a stop. 

You two lay there for a moment, your chests heaving against each other. Joel places a kiss to your nose, then your lips, then he’s lifting himself off you, heading to the bathroom. You hear him start a bath. 

He comes back after a minute, guiding you to sit up and make your way to the bathroom. He kisses your shoulder. “You alright, darlin’?” 

You nod your head yes, a content smile across your features, eyelids heavy. He pulls your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, making you look at him. His signature scowl, the playful version, is on his face. Those damn words, baby, he’s telling you. 

“I’m more than alright, baby,” you finally verbalize. “I love you.” 

“I love you more, baby,” he kisses your cheek. “My darlin’ girl,” another kiss to your forehead. “My beautiful wife,” your other cheek. He continues on like that until he’s peppered your face in kisses, consuming your body with a love quite like no other. You’re a giggling mess by the time it’s over, begging for him to give you a second to breathe. 

Only then when you two settle against each other in the warm, bubbly water, does he ask his burning question. 

“Did, uh… did the breakfast help you?” 

You take a moment to register how your body feels. It feels light. Not light as in lightheaded or weak—like previous weekends. No, you feel light, warm, content—you feel energized, like you can take on the world right now despite the fact that your legs are still made of jello. You feel good. 

“Yeah,” you say. “Helped a lot.” 

“Good,” he replies in success, kissing the top of your head before he starts massaging every part of you he can reach. 

End note -

I love you, you beautiful humans 🫶🏼

Also, please check out the links highlighted in red on my pinned post to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help 🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

divider in middle of fic made by me, vine graphic at top & bottom made my @/saradika-graphics

@pedrostories

[navybrat817]

Sunrises and Sunsets

Pairing: Ranch Hand!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to watch a sunrise with you.

Word Count: Over 2k

Warnings: Fluff, reflecting, tooth rotting sweetness, a bit of sass, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @bigtreefest requested for Ranch Hand!Bucky to either Go for a Swim (smut) or dig his Toes in the Sand (fluff - this won with my muse) with prompt #1 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You woke up before the alarm went off thanks to Bucky. He normally did his best not to disturb your slumber if you didn't have to get up right away, unless he wanted you and you would gladly forgo sleep for that. But the soft kisses he placed along your shoulder and neck weren't rushed or needy. In the darkness you reached for his hand and felt him smile against your skin when you took it. It made you smile, too, and your heart beat faster in your chest. Waking up beside him was a gift.

“Morning,” you whispered, brushing some of the hair from his eyes when you turned to face him.

“Morning,” he whispered back, kissing the center of your forehead. “Time to get up.”

“No,” you groaned. You didn't glance at the time, but your inner alarm clock knew you had a few more minutes.

He chuckled and nipped your other shoulder hard enough to make you gasp. “Yes, Sunbeam,” he said, his tongue tracing the spot he bit. “Gonna watch the sun come up together before breakfast.”

“Why?” You asked. Today wasn't a special occasion or anniversary that you were aware of. He would have reminded you at some point or vice versa.

“Because I wanna watch the sunrise with you,” he replied, sliding a finger under your chin before you could hide your face in his chest. The room was dark, but you felt his gaze plead with you to get up. “Please?” He added for good measure.

With another groan, you gave in. “Fine,” you sighed, trying to hide your smile as you stretched under the sheets. You lucked out with Bucky when it came to small romantic moments. What other man would wake you just to watch the sunrise together? “Sun, breakfast, caffeine.”

“Turning on the light,” he warned, giving you time to cover your eyes when he leaned over to flip the lamp switch. He was thoughtful like that. “I didn't hear 'sex with my amazing boyfriend' on that list. Kinda hurts my feelings.”

You giggled and removed your hand, blinking more of the sleep from your eyes. “Sex is for after I have my caffeine.”

It was his turn to groan. “Fine,” he mocked in his best imitation of you, making you giggle again. You didn't always laugh this early in the morning and not every day began this bright, but every day was a bit lighter thanks to him. “C’mon. You can sleep later.”

“Whatever you say, Buckaroo,” you said as you sat up. You slid your feet into your slippers, your stomach fluttering because you know you didn't put them back in that spot yesterday. “Thank you,” you said, wiggling your toes.

“Can't let your feet touch the cold floor now, can I?” He winked, stretching as he stood up.

Your throat tightened. It was such a tiny gesture in the grand scheme of things, but it was the little things that mattered. They showed that he paid attention and cared. You tried to do the same for him, like cooking his favorite meals or drawing him a bath after a hard day. You hoped it was enough.

“You’re so good to me,” you said, holding your hands out so he could help you stand.

“We’re good to each other,” he said, pulling you up with ease.

The rough pads of his fingertips rubbed along your skin, a physical reminder of the work he put in day in and day out. His hands made a difference in the world and your life, his calloused touch telling hundreds of stories. Being part of his journey and creating a new story together was something out of a dream. The beauty of it was that your story wasn't over yet.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked.

“I’ll tell you when we go outside,” you replied, not wanting him to miss any of the view. “Do you need to put a shirt on?”

He pulled a hand away to pat his pocket before he smirked and pointed to his washboard abs. “These give me plenty of heat.”

Your gaze went to his torso, heat of your own spreading from your core. Working day in and day out kept him in great shape. He belonged on one of those cowboy romance novel covers. Or a calendar.

I could make a killing with a ranch hand calendar featuring all the guys.

“And for breakfast, I'll make you some humble pie. A big ol’ slice,” you teased.

“Mmm. Pie for breakfast. You do love me,” he joked.

“More than anything,” you smiled.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your mouth, tilting your world on its axis like always. “Love you, too.”

“You have to if you don't care about my morning breath,” you smiled.

He grabbed a couple of blankets as he led you out to the front porch, just in case there was a chill in the air. Another thoughtful gesture. Instead of taking you to the porch swing like you expected, he took you down the steps and laid out one of the blankets in the grass where you sometimes had picnics together.

“Why aren't we sitting in the swing?” You asked.

“I mean, we could sit in the swing and I can put my arm around you.” He sat down and spread his legs out in front of him, patting the spot between them. “But it’s easier to hold you like this and I wanna hold you when the sun comes up.”

“You’re such a sap,” you smiled, happily taking the spot between his legs. “But I like that.”

“You do know I’m only a sap for you, right?”

“I do,” you said, spreading the other blanket across your legs. “Don't worry. I won't tell anyone.”

“Too late. Everyone knows,” he smiled.

“True,” you said, tilting your head and taking the opportunity to kiss underneath his chin before you looked back at the horizon.

Exhaling, you pressed your back against Bucky’s chest and revelled in the warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around you. He occasionally reminded you of the sun. He had fire within him and brightened your world just by being there. But to him, you were the sun.

We're each other's sun and moon.

“So, you just felt like watching a sunrise with me?” You asked.

“Just felt like it,” he agreed, holding you a bit tighter. “I’ve watched sunrises and sunsets more times than I can count, but it’s just different with you.”

“Why is that?” You asked.

“It may not make sense, but the sunrise just looks more beautiful and hopeful because I have someone to share it with. And people say sunsets are a way to reset, but I’m just thankful because it was another day I got to spend with you.” He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple as your heart swelled. “Each day is a blessing because you're in my life.”

You were on the verge of spilling tears, but managed to keep them at bay. “I feel blessed, too,” you whispered.

His chest shook as he chuckled. “I really am a sap.”

“Yeah, but you’re my sap,” you said, tracing the palm of his hand. It was a special thing to bring out that side of him. “You know how you asked me what I was thinking about earlier? I was thinking how your hands can tell so many stories. I think your wrinkles will tell stories, too.”

“My wrinkles?” He asked.

“Yeah. Each is a chapter in your story. Just like every scar,” you answered. Bucky thought every mark on your body was a thing of beauty. You wanted him to feel the same way about his. “They’ll say how you survived hard times. How you lived your life. How you loved.”

“You’re a sap, too,” he teased, catching your elbow before you could ram it into him. “Easy, I’m kidding. I think that’s a beautiful way to look at it.”

There was beauty all around you with Bucky.

“Well, the thought of getting older used to scare me, but it doesn't seem so bad because I have you. We won't have to do it alone. We’ll grow together,” you smiled, gazing at the sky that seemed to stretch on forever. “So when we're older and you have wrinkles and gray hairs, I want you to keep doing this: Wake me up for a sunrise just because you felt like it. Just because you wanted to share one more beautiful moment with me.”

“You wanna grow old with me?” He asked, his voice thicker than you expected. “And on those days, you’ll still love me? Wrinkles and all?”

“Of course, I do. And of course, I will,” you promised. You would love him no matter what. “And you’ll still love me when I grow old?”

“Forever and always,” he whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder when the sun began to rise.

Your heart raced as the hues touched the land you two shared, painting a canvas in glowing rays. He was right that the sunrise was more beautiful and hopeful because you had someone to share it with. And while you were certain there were others watching the sky, this felt like a new dawn just for the two of you.

“It really is breathtaking, isn’t it?” You smiled.

“You’re breathtaking,” he said, making your smile widen as your cheeks warmed.

“You flatter me, Buckaroo,” you said affectionately.

Bucky took a deep breath by your ear as you continued to look at the view. “Marry me, Sunbeam,” he whispered.

With wide eyes, you spun around in his arms. You didn't know it, but to him you looked like an angel with the rays growing brighter around you. “What?” You asked.

“Shit. I was supposed to ask you, not tell you. And I was supposed to have something special planned, but I keep carrying this around in case the time’s right and this just seemed right.” He swallowed before he reached into his pajama pocket and pulled out a small box. “It isn't much. Sure as hell isn't what you deserve and I'm sorry for that,” he said. You covered your mouth with a gasp when he opened it. Simple, beautiful, and a diamond that sparkled like the sun. To you, it was the most beautiful ring to ever exist. “But I love you and I want you to be my wife. I wanna grow old with you and I don't wanna tell the story of my life without you in it. I-”

“Yes!” You shouted into the morning air, knocking him on his back. You were lucky you didn’t knock the ring box out of his hand. “Yes, yes, yes! I’ll marry you!”

“I wasn't done with my proposal,” he chuckled.

“I don't care. I said ‘yes’. Now’s the part where you put the ring on my finger,” you smiled with tears in your eyes. He managed to slip the ring onto your finger with you stretched out on top of him. A perfect fit. “It’s beautiful. Don't ever apologize for giving me something so beautiful.”

The proposal was beautiful, too. It came from the heart at a time he knew was right. You couldn't ask for anything better.

I have the whole world because of you.

You swore you saw the sunrise in his eyes as he framed your face and smiled up at you. “Love you, Sunbeam.”

“Love you, too, Buckaroo,” you whispered, giggling. “And guess what?”

“What’s that?”

“I can change sex with my amazing boyfriend to fiancé,” you smiled.

“Why don’t we skip to that part? I’ll make sure you get some caffeine after,” he smirked. "Deal," you giggled again, leaning down to kiss him.

The sun continued to climb in the sky behind you as he deepened the kiss, bathing you in light as you celebrated the next chapter in your life together.

And with his ring on your finger, you knew you’d forever appreciate every sunrise and sunset even more.

Anyone else get a cavity from this sweetness? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[harleehazbinfics]

Can We? an au lucifer x reader oneshot

Author Profile a/n: SURPRISEEEEEE. i got 'we become we' -journey to jerusalem song on a loop since i found it and i knew i wasn't gonna get it out of my system unless i do something about it. so pls enjoy my ramblings lmfao word count: 1200+

"Your Majesty, please reconsider this! Our kingdom needs a Queen!"

Lucifer sighs at the aide's words, feeling irritated with the insistent suggestion of a Queen.

"I agree, your majesty. The people are quite worried for you. You need an heir, and you aren't getting any younger either," another aide jumps in.

Lucifer surrenders to them with hands in the air in exasperation and finally replies, "Fine."

The people in the room sigh in relief that they somehow got through to him. But hitch their breath when he adds on.

"However, I won't just choose anyone. Only the best candidate will stand by my side and be rightfully called the Queen," he glares.

"Good day, your majesty. My name is (full name), Princess of the Eastern Kingdom. I'm grateful for this opportunity," you smile amiably.

"Likewise," he responds quite honestly shocked from your tone.

You were the guest that was expected to arrive at the palace after receiving the invitation to be a Queen candidate. However, after word got around that you will be joining the fight for the title. All the ladies mutually agreed to resign. When he asked why, all the aide's replies were, "There is no other person worthy to be by your side other than the Princess."

Now, you stood in front of him. You were dressed beautifully, but not as extravagant as those ladies that came before him. You had a melodic tone in your voice that was pleasant to the ear. Your hands folded together gracefully. Everything about you was enchanting.

You tilt your head confused about his speechlessness. "Did I catch you in the wrong time?" you ask him.

His cheeks reddened, embarrassed that you left him dazed just from your introduction alone.

"No no," he excuses then coughs to get a grip on himself, "I apologize. I must have been tired from all the work this morning."

You give him an understanding smile and reply, "No apologies needed, your majesty. I feel honored to be here and see how hard you work. I'm sure this kingdom is grateful to have such a diligent King."

His blush intensifies from your non-stop flattery. He's heard many compliments in his life for his achievements. However, when you were the one saying those words. He can't help but believe it was all true with how genuine you sounded.

"Please, I'm quite embarrassed to hear such words from you, Princess. I've heard many tales of your acts of charity for your and other neighboring kingdoms. You've paved the way for others to follow in your example and gave a chance for the poor, homeless and orphaned," he redirected trying to calm his flaring cheeks.

He was pleasantly surprised at your reaction.

"P-Please! You've heard of that? Oh, I'm embarrassed! I hope only good thing reached your ears," you stumbled over your words when the attention turned back to you.

He laughs at you as you tried to hide behind your hair as you also flushed red. 'For someone, who gives out so many compliments. She can't even handle a couple of her own.'

'This wasn't such a bad idea,' he thought as he watched as you smile and continue talking to him.

"(Y/n), can I ask you something?" he says sitting at the edge of the bed where you sat beside while reading a book.

It had been several weeks since your marriage and it's been quite busy for the both of you as you adjusted to your married life. Lucifer finished paperwork for his projects and formal preparations for your ascension to your rights as the new Queen. Thankfully, it had finally calmed down and now you helped him with his work and even the inner management of the castle.

You have shared the room since the beginning, and you've already shared your first night as husband and wife together. Which was.. quite passionate to say the least. But, after both of you would wake up earlier or later than the other, too considerate to wake up the other from their well-earned rest. So, now that it has finally calmed down and Lucifer approached you. You couldn't help but feel nervous.

"Of course, anything," you reply putting away the book and taking his hand in yours.

He smiles and gains courage as he caresses your hand back and says, "Are you okay with this arrangement?"

You tilt your head unsure of the meaning, "About what?"

"This," he gestures to the both of you, "are you okay about our marriage?"

You huff out a laugh relieved, you thought it was a life or death situation, "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugs and replies, "I don't know. I just thought you were having doubts about us."

You give him a meaningful look and stood up from your spot. You then tugged him to stand with you. You made him hold your waist and hand while you placed yours on his shoulder. You led him into a slow dance with a smile on your face.

"Remember, our dance together?" you asked.

"At the wedding?" he asks.

You shook your head and laughed, "We danced one together way before that. That night where we shared the stars together."

His eyes lit up, remembering that night.

"During that dance, I thought that being with you will be worthwhile. And if wherever this choice leads me. I won't regret being with you, Lucifer," you say with a deep look in your eyes.

His eyes soften as he gazed at you. You were nothing but wonderful to him, it was childish of him to assume you were having doubts. He should have trusted you and made you happy instead. You deserve nothing less than that.

"Can we become more Than half of a union we're chosen for?"

He sings as he pulls you closer to him.

"Where I am your best half And I am yours,"

You continue with a huge smile on your face as you followed his lead, gliding around the room.

"Stuck here forever And hopefully not ending in estrangement,"

You sang together faces inching towards each other with half lidded eyes.

"Can mine become yours Combining our dreams Without keeping score?"

You twirled around the room with him catching you. He opens the door and leads you out into the halls where you continued your dance.

"Always together, but never bored No choice in the matter but This will never work without each other,"

The both of you laugh like children as you chased each other down the halls.

"Can we become we? (Can we become we?) Start a new line on this family tree,"

He catches up to you and lifts you off the ground and kisses your cheek with a hearty chuckle from your deviousness.

"Two hearts connected by one beat, Your hand in mine and,"

You beam him a smile as you placed your hands on his chest feeling the rhythmic thumping of his heart from chasing you around.

"I could never choose to love another," Lucifer whispers as he pulls you into a kiss which you return with fervor.

After minutes of kissing one another, he places you down and hold your waist as places another kiss on your temple with a beaming smile. You return it and let him lead you back to your room.

"Maybe one day I can learn to love you, too," you whisper as you gave a passing gaze at the portrait of a blonde woman with her face covered with a large cloth.

Other Lucifer Fics:

@bonnie-02 @marxo5 @whaatttlaufey @froggybich @rybunnie @midorichoco @bontensbabygirl @janey @akiqvq @wonderlandangelsposts @spoiled-slutt @preciousbabypeter @roboticsuccubus83 @simbalioness @reachthestars @atlas-rin @manachpo@luc1fersducky @lovestruck-enby @azullynxx @delightedtosee @cherry-4200 @aria-tempest @lvstyangel @0strawberrysorbet0 @corvid007 @kaminarithebest @whydosnakesnotdance @psychoanalyze0 @sweetadonisbutbetter @lunalily19 @dionysusismypatrongod @skyeliteratures @sappire904

[hwaslayer]

the space between us three (jyh) | one.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

⇢word count: 7k

⇢chapter content/warnings: not much - just a basic intro to yunho x seora, yunho is 31 and seora is 11, cussing, mentions of character death, mentions of a tragic car accident by drunk driving, mentions of casual relationships (not yunho), mentions of distant/unsupportive parents

⇢a/n: it's finally here! i hope you all enjoy this journey and tysm for coming along! i'm not sure what the update schedule will be for this, but i'll try my best to update in between wildfire; this series came to me suddenly so i barely did any prior planning or writing. 😭 anywho, ty again for your support on this! <33

"Seora." Yunho calls her name one last time as he pops in two toaster strudels into the toaster. He lets out a small sigh, pausing when he doesn't hear any movements coming from her room. Just as he finishes getting his coffee together, he turns on his heel to head back down the hallway to check on his 11-year old daughter.

"I'm up." She mumbles, dragging herself across the hallway and into the bathroom. Yunho stands there for a minute, doing a slight head tilt before heading back to the kitchen.

"Well, that was slightly easy today." He finishes packing her lunch [some quickly made spam masubi], making sure she has all her favorite snacks tucked neatly in her lunch box. He nibbles onto some hardboiled eggs he made for himself, plopping Seora's toaster strudels onto a plate. She takes about a good 30 minutes before she's out and dressed in her uniform, hair neatly brushed and pulled back into a low ponytail. "Morning." He hands her the plate after she pours herself some milk. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine, I guess." She sits and takes a bite before looking at her dad, leaning against the counter. "Just wish it was still the weekend." Yunho chuckles.

"Told you to stop sleeping late. Scrolling through TikTok and all that mess."

"Dad. I beg to differ." She says so matter-of-factly. "I get a lot from TikTok. If anything, I'm up late cause I'm learning."

"Please. You could also learn alot from those books you carry into the school I pay heavily for." 

"Yes, okay, but I learn other things. Like how to do cute hairstyles for myself. How to cook one pot dishes. What's important in an emergency kit. How to file taxes. Ou, and let's not forget the cool goodies on TikTok shop—"

"Why would you learn filing taxes on there?" Yunho furrows his brows. "It's not even something you need to worry about now."

"It's helping me prepare for the real world." She cocks a brow up and turns slightly. "What if you get too busy and forget to teach me?"

"Like you're not gonna pick up the phone to call me and have me do it for you when you get older." Yunho crosses his arms and leans back against the counter.

"See, no. I'll learn."

"Jeez, times really have changed." 

"You're only 31 but you sure sound like you're turning 80." She looks at him with a small teasing smile even though he's squinting his eyes at her.

"I'll just act like you didn't say that." He playfully scoffs. 

"Dad, don't you ever go on Instagram or Twitter? Anything?"

"Not like I used to. My Instagram is probably collecting cobwebs." She chuckles. "I just don't find it useful."

"I mean, you can see what your friends are up to. Like Uncle Hwa or Uncle Mingi. They post alot, no?"

"Your uncles don't even do anything fun. They aren't even fun." 

"Uncle Mingi travels a lot!" Yunho shrugs and nods in agreement. "Anyway, there's also good resources on there, actually."

"I would have never thought Twitter or Instagram could be categorized as resources."

"Pushing 85 now." He's playfully rolling his eyes now.

"Hurry and eat so we can get you to school on time." He checks his watch. "You have practice today, right?"

"Mhm."

"Are you riding home with Chan-mi?" 

"Yup!"

"Sorry, ace. I'll be home a bit after you, okay?" Seora smiles toothlessly at her father when she hears the beloved nickname slip from his lips. It had been a long time coming with that nickname, but Seora loves every bit of it. She knows it's her dad's way of saying he's proud of her in every way; all the good grades she gets, the games she plays, the hard days in and out of practice.

She is his ace, his everything.

"No big." She cleans up her plate and drinks the rest of her milk before washing her dishes. 

"Text me what you want for dinner later." She nods, facing him after setting the dishes on the rack.

"Ready." She throws her backpack strap over her shoulder.

"Alright." He grabs his bag and his thermos before handing Seora her lunch bag. He takes one last look around the kitchen to make sure all is good and unplugged before heading out the door to the car. Seora is patiently waiting at the passenger's door, already scrolling away on her phone. 

"Goodmorning you two!" Auntie Love, the next door neighbor, calls out. Yunho and Seora have grown a fond, wholesome relationship with their neighbors— they call themselves Auntie Love and Uncle Po. Despite having that relationship, Yunho feels like he doesn't know much about them besides the fact that their kids are grown and off doing their own thing— barely visiting cause of busy lives. At least, he's never seen them visit while he's around. They're sweet, and they always bring over food and check up on Seora when she's home alone while Yunho is still finishing up at work. "Where's my sweet girl?" Auntie Love comes running out in her pajamas just to give Seora a big bear hug. "Yunho, she grows more and more beautiful every day."

"Yeah she does, and the attitude grows, too!" She laughs just as he hops in the driver's seat, waving them off for the day.

"Dad." She buckles her seatbelt at the same time as he father, giving him the green light to drive off.

"That's me." Seora snorts. "What's up?"

"Have you ever met Auntie Love and Uncle Po's kids?"

"Never." Granted, Yunho and Seora just moved to their current spot about a year and a half ago, starting fresh in a smaller house that would be perfect for the two of them. But, he does find it a little odd that he's never even ran into them once. "I know they exist, I just never see them when I'm around. It's also kinda crazy cause Auntie Love said her daughter works at the same hospital as me, but it's such a huge hospital, I don't think we'd ever cross paths."

"That's pretty crazy if you did and you just didn't know it." Seora looks out the window. "I wonder why they don't visit often. They seem like such cool parents." 

"People get busy and have their own lives to end to. Plus, the sad thing about parenting is that we prepare our kids to tough it out in the world without us." Yunho playfully pinches her cheeks, making her laugh a bit.

"I'll always need you." Yunho smiles.

"You say that now, but once you find your footing in the world and someone who will take care of you, I'll be a long distant memory."

"Stop. Don't say that. I'll always need you." She repeats, tugging onto his free arm and hugging onto it like a koala. Yunho laughs at her as she continues to tug on his arm, giving it a few more playful tugs before she's letting go. "Dad."

"Yes?"

"Can you take me and my friends shopping this weekend?"

"Oh, so that's why you were being that way?" He pokes fun at her and she laughs.

"No! It's obviously because I love you."

"I love you, too." He smiles. "What're you guys trying to do?"

"I wanna buy more stuff for my scrapbook. Like stickers and stuff. And they just wanna walk around an shop. Do cute girly things." She shimmies a bit in her seat.

"Don't you have a ton of scrapbooking supplies sitting on your desk?" Yunho flawlessly turns down the street, approaching the lot to her school.

"I'm running through them. Plus, I need more highlighters and pens. And there's a new edition of the sticker books I buy." She pouts and pleads. "Please, please, please!"

"Seora." He laughs. "Yeah, cause you could certainly use more." He jokes. "Sure. Just let me know. But!"

"But?" She looks at him.

"As long as I can drag one of your uncles along."

"Duh." She laughs. "You're the best." She mumbles as she types away on her phone, Yunho pulling into a spot to walk her towards the school entrance. He helps her with her backpack, duffle bag and lunch bag, trailing behind his daughter with his hands in his pockets. He greets a few parents and teachers, pausing in his tracks just as they get to the steps. She turns to look at him, a smile on her face. Yunho looks at her and still can't believe his babygirl is already 11, going on 12 soon. She's tall, just like her father. She's got the same eyes and smile, but she definitely has similarities to Eunha. She's become quite the athlete, head deep in her books.

Time sure flies.

"See you later, ace. Have a good day at school and practice, k? Remember, text me when you get home and what you're craving for dinner." She nods, throwing her arms around her dad before they do their little handshake.

"I will. Have a good day too, gramps." He rolls his eyes again and shakes his head as he watches her walk up the steps and disappear into the main lobby of the school. 

"Goodmorning Yunho." One of the moms passing by waves and smiles sweetly at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she tries to keep her blushing subtle. He gives her a simple nod of acknowledgement with a tiny smile, slipping into his car to head to work.

Yunho can't really remember the time he went on a real date. 

He has met a few women, but super casually. He didn't really feel anything special with anyone, and he's someone who loves to connect with people. Otherwise, he finds it to be a waste of time. He's not sure how people [aka Uncle Mingi and Uncle Seonghwa] slept around without getting attached; he doesn't think he could pull it off the same way.

Plus, he comes with a forever plus one. His Seora, his babygirl, his ace. And he will always put her before anything, anyone.

Maybe Yunho was just numb. Losing Eunha was the hardest thing he's ever had to endure, and he still feels it 'till this day, as if that accident was yesterday. Seora had been shy over 4 years old when she was tragically struck by an oncoming drunk driver, leaving her car to flip off the highway. Seora barely got to live her life with her mother and that's what aches the most for Yunho. He knows she's fine, and he knows he's tried his best all these years to help shape her into who she is today. But, he knows there is a part of her that misses her mother terribly, that yearns for a mother's love even though Yunho has done everything he can to fill the shoes for both.

So, he thinks about that when he goes on dates. He could never replace Eunha, but he also knows him and Seora are good with where they're at. No one else needed to come into the mix to disrupt their flow for now. Although, he yearns for love too, though. He is scared, but he is equally sad that the truest, most raw form of love he's ever experienced was stripped away from him so fast— he barely got to indulge in Eunha being there as his wife. He's not sure if he'll ever move past it, even though Seonghwa and Mingi tell him time and time again that he deserves to experience love despite everything that's happened.

That he's still deserving of it, and that he should try to open his heart up to it.

He isn't sure how Seora would be though, and that's the most important thing for him. Because he just wants his daughter to be happy. He will always put her first.

When he drives off to work, he pulls into the staff garage and flashes his badge to the security guard waiting at the booth. He drives down to the 2nd level before he's able to find a spot and reverses into it flawlessly. He shuts off the car and grabs his backpack, heading straight to the stairs to bring him back up to the ground level and entrance of the main hospital.

The main hospital has 8 floors, with the emergency room off to the side and valet at the front for patient pickup. It's connected to an adjacent building, the older hospital— which has 3 floors and the older emergency room at the back end of the building. The pediatrics hospital is right behind the main hospital but there isn't a bridge connecting the two; staff typically have to take a 5-10 minute walk over if they need anything on that end. Along the ways are food trucks and mobile coffee trucks, with cafeterias and smaller cafés and shops situated inside the buildings itself.

The hospital is huge and could literally float and function as its own island if it wanted to. 

"Morning, Yunho!" One of the front desk staff members greets him. Yunho sends them a small salute, before smiling and responding back.

"Goodmorning!" Yunho's dressed in jeans and a thick black sweater, the colder weather slowly making its way in at this time of the year. He heads up to the second floor, his office nestled in the corner of the huge office space dedicated to his IT team and part of the administrative team. He greets everyone goodmorning on the way over, setting his things down before he comes out to chat a bit with his team members.

"Yo." He leans against an empty desk while sipping on his coffee.

"Sup boss." Taehyun swings around in his chair, while his other two coworkers, Kyung-soo and Jihoon plop into their chairs. "How's it going?"

"Alright, not too bad." Yunho chuckles. "How about you?"

"All good, can't complain." His main team is made up of 10 people— Taehyun being the team lead, the others branching into specifics like system administrators, helpdesk techs and cybersecurity. His team alone supports a few departments since the hospital is so huge— other IT teams are spread out to cover other remaining wings; plus, the older hospital and the pediatrics corner. From time to time, they'll hop in and help if needed. Without Taehyun's help triaging and prioritizing certain tasks, Yunho wouldn't be able to focus on the high-level aspects of his job. Of course, their team meshes with so many different departments within the hospital— they're all involved deeply in current ongoing and new developments.

"Didn't seem like we got too many tickets last night? Any urgent action items come up in the last hour or so?" Taehyun shakes his head.

"Not really. We've been sorting through and closing out those tickets. Most have been quick fixes." Yunho nods.

"Sounds good. I gotta work on that new clinical project that's opening up on the fifth floor soon. Might loop some of you guys in to help with the Epic implementation and other tweaks we might need to incorporate for patient ordering." 

"Aye! They're finally moving forward with it?" Yunho chuckles.

"Yeah, I guess they've slowly been recruiting patients for their program so they've been moving at a quick pace for the space and everything."

"Sick, that'll be a big project."

"Yup, already starting to feel like it. Thanks for handling those tickets. If we can make sure we stay on top of the queue and help get the AV system going for the board meeting happening in the next hour, that would be great." Yunho goes through a few other priorities he needs his team members to focus on, thanking them for all their hardwork before excusing himself to the office and beginning his own project planning and schedule organization.

He's got a few higher-level meetings to hop into, especially to debrief about the new clinical department opening up and its current timeline. He also needs to set some time aside to brainstorm the data migration request he got a few days ago for another department, along with figuring out how to structure this new department's servers, bandwidth and storage.

It doesn't sound like much, but Yunho definitely has his day cut out for him.

And as he expected, he's barely getting a moment to breathe. Especially when Taehyun pulls him into an urgent server issue that has him thinking on his feet for close to 15 minutes until he realizes the best way to move forward without any major data loss. Then, he's making it to the next meeting but he is already exhausted and hungry. He doesn't get the chance to grab lunch until 1:30pm— Yunho rushing over to the cafeteria to grab today's lunch special before they stop offering hot food. 

"Today ended up being a lot busier than expected." Yunho mumbles as he slips into a seat, Taehyun and Jihoon following suit in the spaces in front of him.

"Seriously. Thanks for your help with the servers."

"All good." Yunho chuckles. "Sooner or later, we'll find better ways to tackle those issues. I know we're gonna have to work on upgrades soon."

"Agreed. And it's probably about time." Jihoon chimes in. "I know we were kinda brushing it off for a bit but I'm slowly seeing it crumble." Yunho nods.

"Nah, I agree. I'll think about it over the next few days. Let me know if you guys have any ideas." Yunho sips his water. "I'll also need your help for the clinical project a lot sooner than expected. I'll forward any invites so you two can start attending meetings. It'll be good for you to get involved now so you have a better idea of the setting and the trials taking place in this new department."

"Sounds good! Let me know if you need anything else, we'll be happy to help out." Yunho smiles and cocks his head to the side.

"Thanks. How's everything else been with you guys? I've been going through candidates, but I expect us to interview and wrap up the whole thing by next month. We'll get some extra help."

"Thanks, boss. That's good to hear." Taehyun hums. "And hm, I think everyone's completely fine and taking it day by day. No one seems to be unhappy."

"We've got a good team and good people around us so I can't complain either. Days are busy but wouldn't want it any other way." Jihoon takes a spoonful of food into his mouth and shrugs. "Got a good manager." He points at Yunho.

"Well, least I'm doing something right?" Taehyun laughs and shakes his head.

"Have a little faith, will you?" Taehyun smiles. "The team doesn't go anywhere without you."

"I think it's the other way around for sure."

"Hey." Seonghwa pops in and sits next to Yunho. Taehyun and Jihoon nod at Seonghwa and send their usual greetings, Yunho knitting his brows at how flustered he looks.

"You okay? Should I even ask?" Seonghwa shakes his head.

"Just tired." Seonghwa takes a bite of the sandwich he brought over. "This health fair we've been planning is driving me crazy. Vendors have been too flakey and our deadline to finalize everything is next week. Plus, I gotta get those interviews and articles done for the new department by next week, too." Seonghwa is one of the marketing and communications managers for the hospital. He had been working here for a bit longer than Yunho, and actually introduced him to the hiring manager and IT director when they were in dire need of building a new team to support the growth of the new main hospital. They had both been working there for a couple of years, Seonghwa organically growing from the bottom up since he had started. Yunho respects him alot [besides the fact that he's one of his bestfriends], and admires his work ethic. Seonghwa is probably one of the constants in his life that helps push him to where he needs to be and serves as a reminder that he needs to keep going regardless of what life brings to the table. 

"I bet you're hella roped into the fine details for that." Taehyun says.

"Yeah, and it doesn't help that the core faculty members are all crazy busy. They're all psychiatrists and neurosurgeons. I can barely get them to respond about meeting with me to talk about it." Seonghwa sighs. "Anyway, that's all. I just needed to let that out, so thanks." They all chuckle.

"Yeah." Yunho looks at him. "Going to that huge introductory meeting later this week then?"

"Mhm." 

"By the way, how's you and Seora?" Taehyun asks. 

"My ace!" Seonghwa adds.

"We're as good as we can be." Yunho smiles, eyes looking down at the polaroid on the back of his phone that Seora slipped in. It's a picture of them two at the amusement park, wearing cute headbands per her request.

"That's good. School and basketball still treating her okay?" Yunho nods. "Cool. I'm glad you're doing okay. I just wasn't sure when I could ask since you've been so busy."

"You can always pop into my office." Yunho laughs. "But, thank you. I appreciate you guys for asking and for all your help."

"Does she have a game soon?" Seonghwa cuts in to ask.

"Think so. Pretty sure."

"Let me know. I'll try and make it." Seonghwa's eyes are traveling across the room, situated on a person as they grab their lunch and sit at a table on the opposite end of the room. 

"How's that going?" Yunho follows his gaze and lets out a small laugh. Jihoon and Taehyun can't help themselves either, subtly looking over their shoulder to see what has gotten Seonghwa all quiet. It's Yoori, one of the Directors of Space and Planning, and the same girl he had been seeing recently.

"I dunno. It's alright I guess."

"Do you think you'll end up in something serious with her?"

"No." Seonghwa chuckles it off, but internally, he's torn between keeping Yoori as his past-time or his full-time.

"She seems to like you a lot already." Yunho continues to look at Yoori as she talks to her coworkers. She's about 4 years older than them. Was in a long term relationship that ended a few months ago, according to Seonghwa. He thought it was a good opportunity to get to know her and have some fun, assuming she wouldn't be ready for a relationship. He might've been wrong because yeah, she does like him a lot already. She's been hinting at it a lot. It's not that Seonghwa can't see them being something serious— he's just not sure if he's ready to jump into that or take that road right now.

He likes his independence and he likes having fun, he's not gonna lie about it.

"Yeah, but we already talked about where we were at and she agreed on it, so." 

"Uh huh.." Yunho responds. "You know, it's okay to want something serious." He chuckles. But, before Seonghwa can respond, he nods towards the aisle ahead.

"Hm." Seonghwa hums. "Speaking of something serious to get into."

"Hey Yunho!" One of the nurses, Ara, passes by with her friends, smiling at him. "Seonghwa, Taehyun, Jihoon." She gives them nods of acknowledgements.

"Sup!" They all say in their own way.

"Hey Ara." He looks up at her.

"Haven't seen you around for awhile?"

"Just been running around is all."

"Locked up in his office actually—" Taehyun says, causing Yunho to press on his foot under the table. "Ouch— yeah, we've all been busy."

"I see." She giggles. "How's Seora?"

"Good!"

"Give her a big hug for me." Ara smiles. "We should definitely grab some dinner one day and hang out. Bring Seora, too!"

"For sure! Sounds fun."

"See you around then, maybe?" She subtly bites onto her bottom lip as her friends giggle away and hurry along to a table.

"Yeah, I'll see you." She waves for one last goodbye before reuniting with her friends. Seonghwa lets out a small snort, while Taehyun and Jihoon quietly poke away at their food with a smirk growing on their lips.

"Um, so." Jihoon laughs when he's the first to break the silence. "She's definitely interested."

"And Yunho definitely should take the opportunity." Seonghwa responds right away, making Yunho shake his head.

"Nah."

"Why not? She's literally opening the door in front of you. Doesn't hurt to try."

"Could be fun. Doesn't have to be serious." Jihoon adds. "She's cute."

"You should see where it takes you. No harm in letting it go if it doesn't pan out as expected." Taehyun also adds his two cents.

"Was not expecting to get lectured by you three during lunch." They laugh.

"Seriously." Seonghwa looks at him. "It's been awhile since you've went on a date. Just see where it goes." Yunho stays silent as he pokes at his food, thinking about the whole thing. It couldn't hurt just to see where it'd take him— and quite frankly, he could use someone new to talk to and hang out with. It doesn't necessarily mean it needs to work out into anything. "I will literally sit at home with Seora and keep her occupied when you take Ara out." Yunho sighs and finally meets his gaze.

"Really now? I'm holding you to it."

"Yes! Not like I haven't before. Could use time to hangout with my ace and bring back the favorite uncle title." Yunho chuckles.

"Yeah, gotta say. Mingi has been taking over." Yunho says just to rile him up even though there's no such thing for Seora; she loves her uncles equally.

"Well, fuck Mingi." Taehyun and Jihoon laugh. "Ask her later. Or tomorrow. Promise me. It doesn't have to turn into anything but at least get out of the house and hang out with a fresh face." Seonghwa turns back to his food. "But for your sake, I hope it does." He mumbles, causing Yunho to nudge him.

"Fine, but no promises on a specific outcome."

"My job here is done." Seonghwa sips on his soda and tosses a crumpled napkin into the sandwich wrapper.

"Shoulda known."

"I was just gonna catch up with you guys, not my fault she happened to walk by at the same time." Seonghwa chuckles and stands. "Gotta get back to my desk and start pressing people for answers. See you guys around." He stands and grabs his trash, making his way to the trash can before walking off out of the cafeteria.

"He's right." Taehyun shrugs. "Gotta try and see where it goes. You deserve to take a break and have some fun. You always work so damn hard."

"And we all know how much Seora means to you and comes first, but you gotta think about yourself, too." Yunho chuckles as he takes his last forkful and sits back in his seat.

"Thanks guys."

"Just looking out for you." Jihoon stretches. "Anyway, time to head back?"

"Yup. I gotta get ready for my next meeting." They all stand and slowly make their way out of the cafeteria, throwing their trash into the appropriate bins.

Yunho's day ends a little after 5:45pm, which is when rush hour hits. He's heading downtown to pick up the food Seora requested, making sure to place the order ahead of time so he can just pick it up and go. As expected, he hits traffic and it takes him an extra 15 minutes to get deep into downtown. It's crazy everywhere, and all Yunho can do is look forward to getting home.

seora: daddy-o i am home

seora: honey-soy glazed fried chicken and kimchi fried rice from chick'n coop pls!

seora: pls pls pls <3333 love youuu

Luckily, he's able to snag a spot in front of the restaurant. It's a 15 minute spot, so he quickly runs in and grabs the food, thanking the friendly staff before running out and getting back into the car. He's not entirely excited about the trek home in all this chaos, but he finds it worth it when he reminds himself of how happy Seora will be when he gets home with her current craving.

So, his usual 30 min drive home ends up being 45 from inner downtown with all the traffic. He parks his car out front before grabbing his things and pulling on his car handle to make sure the doors are locked. When Yunho unlocks the front door, the house is quiet but it doesn't worry him one bit because he knows exactly where Seora is. He kicks off his shoes, setting the bag of food down on the counter before placing his bag down on a dining table chair. He turns down the hallway towards Seora's room, her door slightly ajar. He gives it a few knocks before he's poking his head in, finding her deep in her books at her desk— those huge Bose headphones she asked for last Christmas sitting on her head while she works on her homework.

"Ace." She surprisingly turns her head towards the door, but it's probably because she felt her father's looming figure standing there. She smiles and shoves off her headphones, playfully jumping on her dad while he wraps his arms around her and hugs her tightly.

"You're home!" Yunho laughs as she gently hops off.

"How was school and practice?" She shrugs, walking back to her desk.

"Um, it was okay? The usual."

"Got lots of homework?" She shakes her head.

"Not really. I'm about to finish up!"

"Why don't you wrap it up so we can have dinner and watch our show together?" She chuckles.

"Okay. I'll be out in a sec." Yunho nods, shutting her door before heading out to wash up and get comfy for the evening. He heads to his room and takes a piping hot shower before completing his routine and slipping into a shirt and some flannel pajamas. He heads into the kitchen to unpack dinner, setting out the plates and utensils for him and Seora. He's not usually a stickler about these things— there are days when the two of them sit at the table and talk about everything and anything, then there's days where they'll plop onto the living room floor to eat at the coffee table and watch a show or movie. Any moment spent with Seora is a cherished moment for Yunho, and he'll never take any of it for granted;

Not when she's growing up so damn fast.

Yunho remembers when Seora was born— him and Eunha were shy over 20 years old. Young, dumb and naive; so incredibly unsure of how they'd move forward with having a child so young, how they'd make it without the support they hoped to have. Both their parents didn't think they were ready and tried to force other agendas on them, ones that didn't include being in Seora's life and Eunha was almost convinced it was the better route solely because of all the noise and talk in her ear. But, Yunho didn't want any of it at all. He wanted to be in Seora's life, he wanted to raise her, he wanted to go through life's ups and downs with her— even if that meant their parents wouldn't agree and would cut off ties. 

All that mattered was Seora and Eunha.

So, they had her. Yunho and Eunha had the hardest, most challenging time trying to work to get by, all while finishing school over the years. They packed up and moved to different in-laws, renting rooms in random homes until they could afford a tiny studio to build in for awhile. They pushed through no matter how rough it got because they were both on the same page and understood the end goal: providing for Seora and being able to give her a comfortable life. Their parents weren't the happiest; hence, the disconnect between Seora and both her grandparents. When Eunha passed, her parents cut off ties completely because they claimed it was too painful to. Yunho's parents on the other hand, will see their granddaughter once in a blue moon over a quick meal. Otherwise, they send over birthday and holiday cards with extra cash wishing her the best. Yunho doesn't really have a great relationship with them anyway, and when he does manage to have dinner with them, he tries to keep it civil. 

Keyword: tries.

Things changed when Seora hit 7 years old and was smart enough to pick up on their cues. She realized her grandparents didn't really wanna be a part of her life like that and that was hurtful for Yunho to see. She'd question why they weren't there to see her exceed during the sports competitions in summer camp, she'd question why they wouldn't go to her little school dance recitals. She'd question why they weren't there when she'd win Student of the Month or when they'd have fall and spring family festivals.

She questioned why they weren't there and Yunho didn't have an answer for her. 

But, since they are his parents, he tries to keep that window open out of respect. In the end, he knows it would truly just be them two against the world, and that was completely fine. Yunho made it this far throughout all the trials and tribulations— he's sure he can handle anything else that comes their way.

"Yay!" Seora squeals when she comes out into the living room and plops next to her dad on the floor. "Thank you." She smiles at him and he chuckles.

"You're welcome. Good choice for dinner." She begins to plop some fried rice onto her plate, followed by pieces of the honey-soy glazed chicken wings. 

"Been craving it for so long."

"You could've just asked for it." Yunho switches it to their favorite zombie apocalypse show. 

"I know, but I know you have long days at work so I feel bad for asking you to stop by."

"I appreciate that." Yunho laughs. "But, I want you to know that I don't mind, okay? Just let me know and I'll make the stop."

"You really are the best." She mutters just as she takes a bite into her chicken. 

"You know what we haven't done in awhile?"

"Hm?" Her eyes widen at the scene, and she lets out a small 'oh my god, run!' in between.

"We haven't gone out for our usual father/daughter dates."

"You're right." She takes a spoonful of rice into her mouth. "Can we go next weekend? I think I have a game that Saturday, but in the morning."

"Yeah, what do you wanna do?" She grabs the remote to pause the show.

"Hold on, I need to think about this." She looks up in thought. "I wanna go to the movies to catch Wicked. But, I wanna go to the theater that has the cute suites with the couches inside."

"Okay. But, let me get this straight." Yunho laughs and takes a sip of his beer. "You wanna do that with me and not your friends?"

"They're surprisingly not all that into it. We might later on, but I definitely wanna watch it with you cause I know you'll enjoy it either way." Yunho nods.

"What else? More shopping? More eating out?"

"They opened up that new dog café downtown."

"Let's go then." 

"Bbq after it all?"

"Sounds like a good date to me."

"Dad, for the next-next one, we should drive somewhere or do something outdoorsy or active. Like those indoor rock climbing gyms."

"Woah." He laughs loudly. "Yeah, actually. We should. I'll start planning something for a weekend you don't have any games."

"Woohoo! Sick. Now I can beat you at rock climbing and rub it in your face." She claps and gently headbutts her dad's arm before resuming the show.

"Seora." Yunho looks over at her with a fond smile.

"Uh huh? Holy crap—" She responds to the show before quickly glancing over at him, then back to the TV. "Yeah, dad?"

"Love you." He makes it a point to always remind her because he doesn't want her to feel like she's lacking in love anywhere, despite no longer having her mother or her grandparents around. He is hoping he's enough to fill their shoes. "You know that, right?" He gently tickles her and she squeals.

"Yes! Oh my god, don't do that!" He laughs. "I love you too." Yunho sits back against the couch and fully immerses himself in dinner and the show— responding just as animatedly as Seora. They get through about four 50-min episodes, a little bit into the fifth before Seora is beginning to yawn like crazy, almost falling asleep on the opposite end of the couch.

"Ace." Yunho gently shakes her by the shoulder after pausing the show and slowly cleaning up the coffee table.

"I'm definitely not falling asleep." He snorts.

"You sure are. We'll pick this up again tomorrow. You had a long day." She sits up and yawns, stretching before she rubs at her eyes.

"Practice killed me today. Coach had us running suicides up and down the court for warm up."

"That's a good way to start practice." She nods and sleepily begins her walk off to the bathroom to brush her teeth and do her nightly routine.

"I'm off!" 

"Goodnight, sleep well. Don't stay up on your phone for too long."

"I won't, I won't. Actually—" She lazily pauses and walks back to give Yunho a hug. "Night dad." He playfully squeezes her before planting a chaste kiss to the top of her head and ruffling her hair.

"Night." He watches her finally walk off to the bathroom before turning his attention to the dishes in the sink. He takes his time washing them thoroughly before wiping down the kitchen counters, the dining table and living room coffee table. He slips the leftovers into Seora's tupperware for lunch tomorrow, prepping snacks for himself and Seora to take as well.

He'll probably head to the cafeteria and buy himself something to eat.

Once he's satisfied with his cleaning, he shuts off the lights and double checks the doors before heading into his room on the opposite side of Seora's. He lets out a sigh, exhaustion fully hitting him at this time. He gets himself ready for bed, brushing his teeth and doing his final round of skincare before plopping onto his bed and turning on his own TV. He lowers the volume slightly, the TV now just giving off soft background noise to fill the void. Before he could really settle in, his phone rings— a call coming in from his other bestfriend.

"What?" Mingi scoffs hearing Yunho's greeting.

"You're such a dick, you know that?" Yunho laughs as Mingi continues to whine. "I called to check on you and that's all I get?"

"Jesus, relax. What's wrong?"

"I'm just saying! You didn't even text me back."

"Sorry, I got caught up. Work was busy today, then I stopped by to grab some food Seora's been craving. We were watching our show all night and just finished up not too long ago." Yunho briefly puts him on speaker phone to check Mingi's text. 

mingi: wanna do something this weekend?

"I just asked if you wanted to do something this weekend." Yunho responds anyway, just to give him what he wants.

yunho: no

"Well, okay. It doesn't even matter anymore, why are you responding now?!" Mingi's voice turns up a pitch.

"You wanted me to text you back." Yunho laughs. "No can do anyway. I told Seora I'd take her and the girls shopping. Unless.. you wanna tag along?"

"How sweet. You want me to keep you company?" 

"We can go on our own date while they shop." Mingi chuckles.

"Yeah, sure."

"What did you have in mind originally?"

"Just walking around the city or grabbing dinner. Nothing too fancy."

"What's Hwa doing? Saw him earlier but didn't really get a chance to ask."

"Hanging out with that girl he's been talking to for a two weeks and three days. What's her name? Yoori?"

"Mhm. You're oddly specific." Yunho snorts.

"I don't think it'll last, if I'm being honest." Mingi laughs.

"He's having fun."

"As with the others. Anyway. When's ace's next game?"

"The following Saturday. I gotta check the exact time, but it's an early one. Was planning to take her out afterwards."

"No invite to that?"

"No, dude. My time with my daughter." He sighs.

"I want one."

"Then stop fucking around and settle down." Yunho chuckles. "Also not just something you can want like a toy, Mingi. You know it's way more than that."

"No, I know. You and Eunha did well with Seora, seriously. You're like her bestfriend."

"That's my girl." Mingi nods to himself because he does eventually wanna settle down and have a family, but he's mainly proud of the way Yunho has gracefully tackled life despite all the ups and downs. He wasn't afraid to ask for help when he really needed it, leaning on him and Seonghwa when times were incredibly trying. Taking turns babysitting and driving the girl to and from places, helping buy groceries or cook for the two. Sometimes, Seonghwa or Mingi would offer to hang out with her for a day or so just so Yunho could get some time to himself. For the most part though, Yunho and Eunha did their best. Yunho did his best to pick himself up and carry on for the both of them after Eunha passed. He's not sure how he managed, but he did. He commends Yunho cause he isn't sure how he'd do it if he was in his place.

He hopes his bestfriend can be genuinely happy one day. Yunho says he is but Mingi knows he isn't. There's always gonna be that empty space and that void that he'll look past, and he's worried it'll be too much to bear when times get tough again. Yunho feels like he has everything being by Seora's side and Mingi doesn't doubt that at all.

Still, it must get lonely at times.

"Anyway, I'll let you be. Just wanted to check in. Tell ace I said hi and give her a big hug for me. Send me the details of her game when you can and what time you need me to be ready this weekend."

"Yeah, I will."

"Alright, peaaace." Yunho ends the call and sticks his phone onto the charger. On his nightstand is a photo of him, Eunha and Seora when Seora just turned three— they took her up to the snow so she could play around and enjoy herself. He picks up the photo and smiles as he stares at Eunha's face, truly missing her presence until this day.

That's probably the one other thing that stops him when he thinks about seriously dating again and seeing people. He knows he shouldn't compare but he can't help himself when Eunha was ripped away from his life so suddenly; all he knows is Eunha. They were always on the same page. They weren't perfect, and they sure as hell had their ups and downs. But, they both had the end goal of making it together and being the best parents Seora could have. There was that mutual understanding, that same determination and grit to push through regardless of how tough it got.

He doesn't think he could find a partner in crime like that ever again. Maybe, he just isn't destined to.

And for now, that's okay.

It's okay because he has Seora, and she is the biggest reminder, the biggest vessel of love that he needs.

For now, he thinks he's okay.

⇢taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @nopension @curse-of-art @thechaotictheoryy @likexaxdaydream @dalsuwaha @enha-stars @yasuraokaa @professormingisglasses @yunyunrin @pommelex @astral-trashcan @laura1399 @domfikeluva @tournesol155 @hwaskookies

[thewritetofreespeech]

Can I please request Astarion with a flirty yet oblivious plus size Tav? In the way that they do flirt because it's fun and light like their companions/friends with benefits thing, but they think that their feelings are unrequited (because of some slight insecurity about their size) until Astarion is like I actually like you and Tav is like '???' (Idk if that makes sense lol) Thank you!

-------------------------------🩸-------------------------------

“So, Astarion, what is your actual type?”

“My ‘type’,” Astarion repeated at Shadowheart’s question as they traveled, “is such a broad prevue. I can’t think to narrow it down to just a single collection of words.”

“That’s a unique way to say you’re a trollop.”

Tav snickered at Shadowhearts retort, getting a stern glare from Astarion. “What? It was funny?”

“Pft. And here I was going to say you, my dear, but if you’re going to be so incredibly cruel.”

“Aw shucks. Always a bridesmaid I suppose.”

During their journey together, Tav had grown very fond of Astarion. He was a little shit, but deep down he was very funny and undeniably charming (although not for the ways he tried to be). The two of you had picked up a friendly banter over your time together, sometimes even flirty, but only that. And Tav was fine with that. Well aware that a handsome rake like Astarion could have his pick of the litter, and they were just happy to be considered a friend.

Later that night, while everyone was finishing their day and slinking off to bed, Astarion came over to Tav by the fire to sit with them. “You know I really meant it earlier by the way.”

“Meant what?” Tav asked. Lost, by this point, on what he was talking about.

“That you’re my….‘type’.” He seemed loathed to use the word. Even scrunched his nose. Tav just laughed.

“Yeah. Right. I’m sure.”

“No, really, I mean it.” He insisted.

“Come on Astarion, the only way you’d be interested in me is because I’m a a keg instead of a flagon.” Tav gestured to themselves and their full frame. “I have ample blood to spare.”

Astarion frowned. “Yes, your blood is certainly a bonus, but that isn’t why I care for you.” He huffed and crossed his arms dramatically. “Honestly, why does everyone think I’m not being serious when I am?” Astarion asked with a bit of flabbergast. “Is it something about my expression?”

Tav looked more than a bit flabbergasted at his remark. They didn’t really think they liked them….that way. Friends sure. Allies, of course. But romantically? “You…really have feelings for me?”

“Ugh! What is it with you new generation and wanting to put a name to everything?” Astarion bemoaned. “Feelings. Type. Can’t we just enjoy this for whatever…this is? All I know is that out of all the people in this whole wicked world I would want to be stuck with, it’s you.”

“Gee, that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.” Tav teased.

Astarion frowned again, but then leaned in close to Tav so all they could see was his piercing red eyes. “I could wax poems for you, if you’d prefer. How your eyes are the stars. How your curves are roads I would never get tired of roaming. How your ample bosom feels like a place to call home. All true, but you’re so much more to me than that.” He moved back to sit in his original spot. Wrapping his arms around his knees at his chest as he looked into the fire. “You’re the first person I’ve trusted in…well ever. You mean more to me than just your body. Though, again, that is certainly a bonus. I had hoped….you feel the same about me.”

Tav blushed, but then quickly gathered their voice and told him, “yes! Of course.”

Astarion seemed relieved. Then leaned over to give Tav a simple, sweet peck on the cheek. “Good. Now, get some sleep. We’ll probably have a completely eventful day tomorrow as well. You’ll need your beauty sleep. Not that you need it, of course. I’ll keep watch until the morning.”

Tav smiled, blushed again, and then went to their bed roll. Tentative in accepting Astarion’s confession & feelings, but hopeful it was all true. Perhaps, for once, they could really be the bride instead of the bridesmaid.

[quickstappen]

track 004: the see is calm (before the storm)

A/N: i know i've disappeared for a while but it turns out that second year of college is very different to the first. now finally after two months i've got it under control so hopefully we'll have a semi-regular schedule for now, i'll try to post something every two weeks (on weekends most likely). anyway, this one's not very plot heavy but it's needed for the story, enjoy!

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liked by carlitosalcarazz, oscarpiastri and others

paola_sainz contrary to popular belief, I do actually work sometimes ;) keep your eyes open guys, things are getting done here

tagged: sean_cliff

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F4ST_C4R oh please say its a new collection, i was too late for the 1st one and it sold out 😭

oui_lyanne who the fuck is sean

↳ 4ND1 from what i can see he's another designer

↳ oui_lyanne ooh, collab maybe? 👀

↳ f1w1tch OR the super secret boyf

L3CH41R well, looks like she's not in spa after all

mcwilliams are you gonna comment on the williams/carlos announcement??

↳ prplsector i mean,, why would she?? it's not her announcement, she's got a job

lightning_enjyr oh my god are those pieces from the new collection?? 😳

danielricciardo Respect the grind 💪🤠

↳ sadiebull sorry what is daniel ricciardo doing

↳ fastkiwi trying to relate to the youth lol

shithappens oh god women in suits 😳

STARG3N guys,,, what is carlos alcaraz doing in the likes

↳ hamilteaa the tennis player???

↳ STARG3N yeahhh

sean_cliff you know it's always a pleasure working with you 🤭

↳ paola_sainz oh I know, I am brilliant of course

↳ elmatadorf1 jesus what a self-centred bitch 💀

predestined55 no one's gonna buy this crap anyway 🐍

carlitosalcarazz We need to play again sometime! 🎾

↳ paola_sainz do your job at the Olympics first, then we'll see 👏

↳ isawthesainz THEY KNOW EACH OTHER???

↳ dutchlion sure looks like it 👀

oscarpiastri You gonna spend the whole summer break working too?

↳ paola_sainz actually no, this one guy invited me to visit his family you know

↳ oscarpiastri Lucky guy

↳ lightning_enjyr oui_lyanne surely you see my point now

↳ oui_lyanne everyday i am closer to believing you

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paola's messages:

paola_sainz posted new instagram stories!

caption 1: a little pitstop before our journey ;)

caption 2: mid-rant and a little drunk but he's fine, alive and well

⟶ alex_albon replied to your story!

alex_albon oh thank god you're with him, he hasn't been answering my calls and texts

paola_sainz yeahh, we figured. me and Osc are with him rn but we have to leave in the morning

alex_albon shit, how is he really? do you seriously have to leave?

paola_sainz he's better than yesterday, mostly pissed atp but I'm sure that the self-hatered and misery will come soon

paola_sainz and yeah we have to, we've been trying to visit Oscar's family together for ages

paola_sainz I think he's going home for the rest of the break

alex_albon jesus, that's good at least

alex_albon I'll try to reach out again

paola_sainz good idea

caption 3: couldn't take this little guy home, apparently "2 is enough cats Lola"

⟶ maxverstappen1 replied to your story!

maxverstappen1 I think you should've taken him anyway, he is very cute

paola_sainz I knoww! I named him Barron Meowmilton

paola_sainz unfortunately, I do not fancy sleeping on the couch for the foreseeable future so we left Barron at a local shelter ;)

maxverstappen1 Ah, I understand

maxverstappen1 We'll always remember you, Barron Meowmilton

caption 4: and we're off to see the future in-laws ;)

⟶ hattiepiastri replied to your story!

hattiepiastri has my brother done something we don't know about??

paola_sainz nahh, dw about it, you'd be first to know after your mum

paola_sainz I'm just sure I'm gonna marry him someday, there's no other option

hattiepiastri you're both so disgustingly gone for each other it should be studied

hattiepiastri can't wait to see you though

paola_sainz girll me too, it's been too long

paola's messages:

liked by jensonbutton, hattiepiastri and others

paola_sainz can confirm that kitties are just as cute down under as in the rest of the world ;)

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shithappens paola talking about cats at all times? fork found in kitchen

arthur_leclerc did you try to take the cat home?

↳ oscarpiastri take a wild guess mate

↳ paola_sainz don't know what you're talking about mate

↳ oscarpiastri I have a feeling that you're gonna grossly overuse mate now

↳ paola_sainz now why would I do that... mate 😇

barbiegirl what are you doing in Australia girllll

elmatadorf1 thank god she's not going home with Carlos, he doesn't need her 🐍

jensonbutton Come back in one piece please

↳ paola_sainz don't you worry about that Jense, I am well taken care of ;)

oui_lyanne yeah okay she's actually in australia

charles_leclerc You're right, that's a very cute kitty

lightning_enjyr did you buy any new records?

oscarpiastri Have you seen the sights yet?

↳ paola_sainz not really, my tour guide has been kinda busy

↳ oscarpiastri That's a shame, there's a lot of great things to see

↳ paola_sainz don't worry mate, I've been looking at different kind of sights plenty enough, lot of beach days yk? I can wait a few more days 😉

↳ oscarpiastri Oh, well in that case 🫢

prplsector oscar is brave fr, I'll give him that 😳

4ND1 god the tension is this comment section is something else

ada_moore if Oscar's not the boyfriend and I was the boyfriend I am straight up fighting that man in some dark alley because that is so flirty and for what (if he IS the boyfriend, carry on please, the energy is unmatched)

L3CH41R how are her outfits always so good???

predestined55 Carlos just signed a contract and she's talking about cats and being a slut in the comments, great 😒

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hattiepiastri posted new instagram stories!

caption 1: did you know, we're killer on karaoke nights?

caption 2: doing all this late night talking

caption 3: we're keeping her oscarpiastri, if you don't wife her up I will

⟶ oscarpiastri replied to your story!

oscarpiastri You don't have to worry about that

paola_sainz posted new instagram stories!

caption 1: g'day mate! celebrity crush meet up officially checked out from my wishlist

caption 2: the locals showing me the best ice cream places in town

caption 3: hands that have never seen manual labour

⟶ oscarpiastri replied to your story!

oscarpiastri hey!

paola_sainz you're offended like it's not true

caption 4: bad bitch on the beach

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and others

paola_sainz most unexpected crossover of the year? maybe not as unexpected as you think! me and Robert did some cool things this week and I got to meet some sweet pets, I might not come back from 'Straya

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N3CKSTRI excuse me- Robert Irwin and Paola Sainz in one place? i might actually die

prplsector spain's sweetheart with australia's sweetheart, way too cute

dutchlion can someone actually explain to me how people can hate her? if you don't like her content just stop looking at it, but actually hating on her?? can't imagine

robertirwinphotography It was good to finally see you! The animals already miss you

↳ paola_sainz oh god please don't say that, I'll cry for real 😭 I miss them too

shithappens i dunno, i still think it's pretty unexpected

fastkiwi the way this isn't even the wildest thing she's done this season 😳

predestined55 can you like rot in hell now? two faced bitch 🐍

barbiegirl they'd look sooooo goooood together

↳ zoebryne_x ik right??

logansargeant Is zookeeper next on the cv?

↳ paola_sainz you're laughing but I'd be an amazing zookeeper

↳ logansargeant Who told you that? I wouldn't trust them, you'd end up taking all the animals home

↳ paola_sainz Robert said I'd do great!

↳ logansargeant I think that's just his job, plus he's too nice to tell you the truth

↳ paola_sainz you're mean, see if I bring you gifts when I get back

4ND1 can I meet Robert Irwin now??

oscarpiastri Still looking at sights?

↳ paola_sainz why, you jealous mate?

↳ oscarpiastri Don't worry, just curious

lightning_enjyr are they even trying to hide it atp???

elmatadorf1 can she just injure sth since she's playing tennis so much? maybe then we'd get a break from her stupid face 🤢

↳ STARG3N you guys are literally insane what the hell

madi_races every time i open the comment section i get whiplash, on twt everyone is trying to figure out who the boyfriend is, the press is eating this all up, people are placing bets and here is oscar just shamelessly flirting, it's like a different universe

arthur_leclerc I'm coming with you next time

↳ paola_sainz ditch Charles and come here then

hammertime_1 guys i really don't think Oscar's the boyfriend, she's just way out of his league

isawthesainz jesus she's so cringe, excuse me while i throw up

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NETHERLANDS 2024

liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and others

oscarpiastri And we're back 👍 break at home was good but it's nice to be racing again

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laile_f1 he's never beating the calm cat allegations

catstri81 that is the most oscar caption to ever caption

maximumformula he's doing the dad pose 😭

4ND1 i can't with him 😭 he's just a guyy

chat_withmani ohh he's posted the girlfriend!!

elmatadorf1 i can't believe he still has a seat

↳ prplsector can you guys stop being fucking petty for a minute

paola_sainz so did the girlfriend like it in the down under mate?

↳ oscarpiastri Yeah, since she's now best friends with my sister I'm pretty sure she did mate 🙄

↳ paola_sainz what, you jealous of your sister?

↳ oscarpiastri She basically stole my girlfriend

lestappen116 he looks so happy 😭

fastkiwi it was good to see you back at home

landonorris Let's go mate! Good weekend 👍

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click here to be added to the carved my name taglist!

taglist: @blushmimi @Ale-522 @joalslibrary @jaydaaasworld @vroomvroommuppett @sugarhoneylemons @formulaonebuff @clove0 @rockyhayzkid @glitzyditzy @coriyaps @irishmanwhore @gr3yhues @kikiki04 @fall-bambi @nichmeddar @sunfairyy @formulaal @marauders-wife @theseus-jpg @heavy-vettel @anxxiousaries @linaversion @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @d3kstar @camelliaflow3r @delululeclerc @lesliiieeeee (xxx - couldn't tag you)

DISCLAIMER: i do not know anything about this people, this is not real life, this is just something for fun, i do not know anythings about their life or personalities!

[novaursa]

Between Pride and Fire (his match)

- Summary: It was a challenge of the hunt that drew the lion to you, but it was your fire that made him yours.

- Paring: targ!reader/Jason Lannister

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: of fire and gold

- Next chapter: to secure an alliance

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @punk-in-docs

King Viserys sat in a high-backed chair near the large windows, the morning sun illuminating the silver streaks in his hair. He was nursing a goblet of wine, his expression serene as he gazed out over the sprawling Westerlands below. Tyland Lannister stood nearby, his posture stiff, though his sharp eyes tracked his brother’s movements with barely concealed unease.

Jason bowed with a flourish, his grin as effortless as ever. “Your Grace,” he said, straightening. “A fine morning to you.”

Viserys turned, a warm smile breaking across his face. “Lord Jason! You seem in good spirits. Come, join me.”

Jason strode forward, taking a seat opposite the king. “It’s hard not to be in good spirits with such esteemed company gracing Casterly Rock,” he said smoothly, gesturing toward the view. “Though I must admit, I have a small favor to ask.”

Viserys chuckled, his mood buoyed by the wine and Jason’s charm. “And what favor would that be, my lord?”

Jason leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “Your Grace, I was hoping you might grant me permission to take the princess on a ride to Lannisport. The city is one of the jewels of the Westerlands, and I would be honored to show her its splendor. It would be a chance for her to see more of our lands, to understand the pride we Lannisters take in them.”

Viserys stroked his beard thoughtfully, his expression pensive. “Lannisport, you say? A fine city indeed.”

“It is,” Jason agreed, his tone earnest. “And I promise to ensure her comfort and safety. The journey is short, and the roads are well-guarded.”

Tyland, standing by the hearth, shifted slightly, his frown deepening. He didn’t interrupt, but his gaze bore into Jason with a warning glare that his twin brother deliberately ignored.

Viserys tapped his goblet thoughtfully against his knee. “You have a keen interest in my daughter, Lord Jason.”

Jason smiled, inclining his head. “She is a remarkable woman, Your Grace. It is an honor to be in her presence.”

Viserys’s smile widened, his eyes twinkling. “She is, isn’t she? Though she doesn’t make it easy for her suitors.”

Jason chuckled, his tone light. “A lion doesn’t shy away from a challenge, Your Grace. In fact, we thrive on it.”

The king laughed heartily, clearly pleased. “Well said, Lord Jason. Very well, you have my permission. But,” he added, his tone turning slightly more serious, “be mindful of her temper. She’s not one to hold her tongue.”

Jason’s grin widened, his confidence unwavering. “Her sharp tongue is one of the many things I admire about her, Your Grace.”

Tyland’s frown deepened further, but he remained silent, though his knuckles tightened against the edge of the mantel. Jason caught the movement out of the corner of his eye but chose to ignore it, standing and bowing deeply to the king.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Jason said, his tone warm. “I’ll make the necessary preparations. The princess will be in safe hands.”

Viserys nodded, clearly satisfied. “Good. And Jason?”

Jason paused, meeting the king’s gaze. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Make sure she enjoys herself. She deserves to be happy.”

Jason’s smile softened, and for a brief moment, there was a glimmer of sincerity in his expression. “Of course, Your Grace.”

With that, he turned and left the solar, his steps as confident as ever. As he passed Tyland, his younger brother caught his arm, stopping him just outside the door.

“What are you doing, Jason?” Tyland hissed, his voice low but sharp.

Jason turned, his grin returning. “Taking the princess on a ride to Lannisport. You heard the king.”

Tyland’s glare was cold. “Be careful, Jason. You’re walking a fine line.”

Jason’s grin only widened. “I’ve always enjoyed walking fine lines, brother. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have plans to make.”

The courtyard of Casterly Rock buzzed with quiet activity as servants and guards prepared for the morning’s excursion. You stood at the center of it, one hand pressed over your face in exasperation. Beside you, Ser Lorent Marbrand held the reins of his horse, his stoic expression doing little to mask the faint hint of sympathy in his eyes. A group of mounted Lannister guards waited nearby, their cloaks fluttering gently in the breeze as they watched the scene with patient curiosity.

From across the courtyard, you could see Rhaenyra leaning against one of the stone balustrades overlooking the commotion, her arms crossed and her expression smug. No doubt she was relishing the situation, having already teased you mercilessly about this “outing.”

You muttered something under your breath, too quiet for Ser Lorent to hear but enough for him to shift slightly, as though bracing for whatever was to come. Moments later, Jason Lannister appeared, leading two magnificent horses, one of them a dappled grey clearly meant for you. His golden hair caught the sunlight, and his confident stride exuded the kind of arrogance that set your teeth on edge.

“Good morning, Princess,” Jason greeted cheerfully as he approached. His grin was as insufferable as ever as he stopped in front of you and held out the reins of the grey mare. “For you.”

You lowered your hand and glared at him, reluctantly taking the reins as his fingers deliberately brushed against yours. The touch was fleeting, but the smug glint in his eye told you it was no accident.

“What exactly do you hope to accomplish by dragging me to Lannisport?” you asked, your tone sharp as you adjusted your grip on the reins.

Jason swung into his own saddle with an effortless grace, turning to you with a grin that only deepened your annoyance. “Why, it’s important for the future Lady Lannister to know the city she’ll one day be ruling over.”

You froze, staring at him in disbelief before narrowing your eyes. “You truly have no shame, do you?”

Jason laughed, the sound rich and unbothered as he guided his horse closer to yours. “None at all, Princess. It’s one of my more charming qualities.”

“You mistake arrogance for charm,” you shot back, mounting your horse with practiced ease, your movements sharp with irritation. “Though I suppose that’s fitting for you.”

“Call it what you will,” Jason replied smoothly, falling into step beside you as the procession began to move out of the courtyard. “But you can’t deny I have a way of getting what I want.”

You rolled your eyes, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, how impressive. The mighty Lord Lannister, annoying people into submission.”

Jason chuckled, clearly enjoying your ire. “Careful, Princess. That sharp tongue of yours is one of the reasons I like you.”

“I’m flattered,” you said dryly. “Truly.”

He leaned slightly toward you, his grin taking on a more mischievous edge. “You should be. Not many women catch my attention the way you have.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Probably because most women have the sense to avoid you.”

Jason feigned a wounded expression, placing a hand over his heart. “Harsh words, Princess. You wound me.”

“Good,” you replied, your voice cutting. “Perhaps next time, you’ll think twice before involving me in one of your ridiculous schemes.”

Jason’s laughter echoed across the courtyard as the group rode through the gates, the lion banners fluttering above. “Ridiculous, maybe. But you’re here, aren’t you?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the sound of Rhaenyra’s laughter from above caught your attention. She waved at you with a smirk, clearly relishing your predicament.

“Enjoy Lannisport, dear sister!” she called out, her voice ringing with amusement. “Try not to let him drive you mad!”

You muttered a curse under your breath as Jason turned to you with a grin that promised nothing but more trouble. “Shall we?” he said, gesturing toward the road ahead.

“Lead the way, Lord Lannister,” you replied coldly, your grip tightening on the reins. “And try not to embarrass yourself.”

Jason’s grin widened as he spurred his horse forward, his confidence as unshakable as ever. “I’ll do my best, Princess. But no promises.”

The ride had barely begun, and already the battle of wills was in full swing.

The bustling city of Lannisport came into view as you and Jason crested the final hill of the winding road from Casterly Rock. The city sprawled along the coastline, its harbor teeming with ships bearing the proud lion sigil of House Lannister. The streets below buzzed with life, a patchwork of market stalls, merchant caravans, and townsfolk going about their day. As the procession descended into the city, the air grew thick with the scent of salt and fish mingling with the sweet aroma of baked goods and freshly cut flowers.

Your presence alongside Jason caused an immediate stir. Heads turned as whispers spread like wildfire through the streets. It wasn’t every day the people of Lannisport saw their lord riding beside a Targaryen princess. Children pointed, their mothers shushing them hurriedly, while merchants craned their necks for a better view. The sight of your silver hair, unmistakable even beneath the hood of your cloak, seemed to captivate the crowd.

Jason, of course, basked in the attention, sitting tall in his saddle with a smug grin as he acknowledged the occasional cheer or bow. “Ah, Lannisport,” he said grandly, turning to you with a flourish. “The jewel of the Westerlands. Impressive, isn’t it?”

You arched a brow, your tone dry. “If you’re into jewels that smell like fish.”

Jason laughed, undeterred by your barb. “Come now, Princess. Even you can’t deny its charm. Allow me to show you.”

He dismounted with practiced ease, handing his reins to a waiting guard before turning to help you down. You ignored his extended hand, swinging down from your horse on your own. Jason’s grin widened at your defiance, and he gestured grandly toward the bustling market ahead.

“Shall we?” he asked.

Reluctantly, you followed, your steps measured as you trailed after him through the cobblestone streets. The first stop was the harbor, where Jason launched into a lengthy explanation about Lannisport’s famed shipyards and the wealth they brought to the region.

“And this,” Jason said, gesturing toward a massive galleon being loaded with goods, “is where the finest ships in Westeros are built. The craftsmanship is unparalleled.”

You glanced at the ship, unimpressed. “It’s a boat, Jason. They all float.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Ah, but this is no ordinary boat, Princess. This is a masterpiece.”

“A masterpiece that smells like tar and rotting fish,” you replied, wrinkling your nose.

Jason placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “You wound me. Perhaps the marketplace will be more to your liking.”

He led you to the central square, where merchants peddled everything from vibrant silks to exotic spices. The noise was deafening, a cacophony of shouted offers and bartered deals. Jason picked up a necklace from one stall, holding it up with a mischievous grin.

“Wouldn’t this look lovely on you?” he teased, dangling the necklace in front of you.

You rolled your eyes. “I’d rather wear a noose.”

“Always so dramatic,” Jason quipped, returning the necklace to the merchant with a wink. “Let’s move on.”

The next stop was a bakery, where Jason insisted you try a honey cake freshly pulled from the oven. You reluctantly accepted, and to your annoyance, it was delicious.

“Well?” he asked, watching you with a knowing grin as you took a bite. “Am I right, or am I right?”

You sighed, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “It’s fine.”

Jason chuckled, leaning closer. “I knew you’d like it. See? I’m not completely insufferable.”

“That’s debatable,” you muttered, brushing crumbs from your cloak.

The day continued in much the same fashion, with Jason narrating every detail of the city as if it were the most fascinating place in the world, and you countering with your sharp wit at every turn. He pointed out the grand statue of Lann the Clever in the town square, and you remarked that it was appropriately self-aggrandizing for a Lannister. He showed you the grand market hall, and you noted that it was smaller than the Red Keep’s.

By the time the sun began to dip toward the horizon, Jason led you to a quiet terrace overlooking the harbor, the city sprawling beneath you. The sight was undeniably beautiful, the light of dusk reflecting off the water and casting the buildings in a warm glow.

Jason leaned against the stone railing, his eyes flicking to yours. “Admit it,” he said, his voice softer now. “Lannisport has its charms.”

You hesitated, your gaze sweeping over the scene. “It’s… suitable,” you said finally, though your tone lacked its usual bite.

Jason chuckled, the sound low and pleased. “High praise, coming from you.”

You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

He smiled, his expression softer than you were used to. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Princess.”

Below, the harbor bustled with activity, but up here, the sounds seemed muted, as if the world had paused for just a moment, as Jason leaned against the stone railing, his usual smirk replaced by a thoughtful expression.

“You know,” Jason began, his voice quieter than usual, “when I was a boy, I used to come up here and dream about what it would be like to rule Casterly Rock.”

You turned to him, your brow furrowing slightly. The uncharacteristic seriousness in his tone caught you off guard. “What did you imagine?” you asked cautiously.

Jason smiled faintly, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Power, wealth, glory. All the things a young Lannister is taught to value. But as I got older, I realized it wasn’t just about those things. It was about responsibility. Every decision, every alliance, every risk—it all comes back to the people who look to you for guidance. It’s… a heavy weight, sometimes.”

You crossed your arms, watching him closely. This was a side of Jason you hadn’t seen before, one that seemed more vulnerable, more human. “And yet you carry it with so much… confidence,” you said, the word tasting unfamiliar as you spoke it.

Jason chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Confidence, arrogance—it’s all the same to some. But it’s easier to wear a mask of bravado than to let anyone see the cracks. That’s something Tyland always understood better than me. He was always the dutiful one, the planner. I was the one who acted first and thought later.”

You tilted your head, your curiosity piqued despite yourself. “Was it always like that? You and Tyland?”

Jason hesitated, his eyes flicking to yours briefly before returning to the view. “In some ways, yes. Tyland was the responsible one, even as children. He always looked out for me, made sure I didn’t get into too much trouble. But he was also… distant. As if he knew he’d have to clean up my messes one day.”

The faint smile on his lips faltered, and he exhaled quietly. “I resented it at first. Felt like he didn’t trust me to handle things on my own. But now… I think I understand. He wasn’t just protecting me. He was protecting the name of our house.”

You didn’t know how to respond at first. This wasn’t the brash, arrogant Lord Lannister you were used to sparring with. This was someone different—someone who carried more weight than he let on.

“I…” You hesitated, unsure if sharing anything personal would shift the dynamic. But something about the moment felt right, and you found yourself speaking before you could think better of it. “I was my mother’s shadow as a child. Wherever she went, I followed. She used to joke that I was her little dragon.”

Jason turned to you fully now, his expression softer, more attentive. “What was she like?”

You smiled faintly, your gaze dropping to the railing. “She was kind but firm. She had this way of making everyone feel seen, like they mattered. And she was strong. Stronger than most men I’ve ever met.” Your smile faltered slightly as a pang of loss crept in. “She taught me to be strong, too. But I never quite figured out how to be… soft. Like her.”

Jason studied you for a moment, his golden eyes thoughtful. “You’re strong in your own way, Princess. And I’d wager you’re softer than you let on.”

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head. “You don’t know me as well as you think.”

“Don’t I?” he countered, his tone gentle but pointed. “You’ve shown me more than you realize.”

The weight of his words hung between you, the silence stretching out as you processed what he had said. For the first time since you’d arrived at Casterly Rock, Jason Lannister felt less like a rival and more like… a person.

“Why tell me this?” you asked finally, your voice quieter now.

Jason shrugged, his smirk returning but softer this time. “Maybe I wanted you to see there’s more to me than arrogance and charm.”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Jason chuckled, the sound lighter now as he straightened. “Fair enough. Shall we head back? Or would you rather stay here and ponder my hidden depths?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing off the railing. “Let’s go. This city reeks of fish.”

Jason laughed as he gestured for you to lead the way, his usual confidence tempered now by something more genuine. As the two of you made your way back to the horses, the weight of the conversation lingered, a reminder that even lions had their vulnerabilities—and dragons their moments of softness.

The sound of hoofbeats echoed on the dirt path as you and Jason rode side by side, your usual dynamic quickly reasserting itself after the fleeting vulnerability you’d both shared in Lannisport.

Jason glanced at you, his smirk firmly back in place. “You know,” he began casually, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think you actually enjoyed yourself today.”

You shot him a sideways glance, your tone dry. “Enjoyed myself? That’s a stretch.”

“Oh, come now, Princess,” he teased, his golden eyes glinting with amusement. “You smiled at least once. I saw it.”

“Perhaps I was smiling at the thought of pushing you into the harbor,” you replied, your lips twitching with the faintest hint of a smirk.

Jason laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. “You wound me once again. Truly.”

“Good,” you said with mock satisfaction, spurring your horse slightly ahead of his.

Before Jason could retort, the sound of approaching riders drew both your attention. A small escort of armed men crested the hill ahead, their armor shining faintly in the sun. At their head was a portly man with a ruddy face and a finely embroidered doublet, the sigil of a leaping trout on his chest. Jason’s demeanor shifted immediately, his expression hardening as he recognized the man.

“Lord Edwyn Tully,” Jason muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with disdain.

You raised a brow, curious. “A friend of yours?”

“Hardly,” Jason replied, his smirk now edged with irritation. “The man’s a walking insult to dignity.”

As the two groups met on the road, Lord Edwyn’s eyes lit up as he spotted you. His gaze lingered a little too long, and he pulled his horse to a stop directly in front of you, bowing with exaggerated courtesy.

“Princess,” Edwyn said, his tone oily. “What a rare and delightful surprise to encounter such radiance on these humble roads.”

You inclined your head politely, though the man’s tone set your nerves on edge. “Lord Edwyn,” you replied evenly. “A pleasure.”

Edwyn’s gaze flicked briefly to Jason, his lips curving into a thin, insincere smile. “And Lord Lannister, of course. Always a pleasure to see the Rock’s golden lion.”

Jason’s smile was cold, his eyes narrowing. “Edwyn.”

Undeterred, Edwyn turned his attention back to you, his tone growing more ingratiating. “I must say, Princess, the beauty of the Targaryens is unmatched, but you… you are a rare jewel indeed.”

Jason’s jaw tightened, and his horse shifted as he gripped the reins a little too hard. “Careful, Tully,” he said, his voice low and edged with warning.

Edwyn ignored him, his smile widening. “It’s a wonder you’re still unwed, Princess. Any lord would count himself the luckiest man in Westeros to stand at your side.”

Jason’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “And yet no one’s counting you among those lords, are they, Edwyn?”

The tension crackled in the air as Edwyn turned to Jason, his own smile faltering slightly. “I was merely paying the princess a compliment, Lord Jason. There’s no need for hostility.”

Jason’s smirk returned, sharper than a blade. “Compliments are one thing. Overstepping is another. And you’re dangerously close to the latter.”

“Enough,” you cut in, your voice firm as you fixed both men with a pointed look. “Lord Edwyn, your words are appreciated, but unnecessary.”

Edwyn blinked, clearly caught off guard by your interruption. “Of course, Princess. I only meant—”

“I know what you meant,” you said, your tone cool. “And now you can continue your journey. We have no need to linger.”

Jason’s smirk turned into a satisfied grin as Edwyn’s pride visibly bruised. The man sputtered for a moment before inclining his head stiffly.

“As you wish, Princess,” Edwyn said, his tone curt. He turned to Jason, his gaze narrowing. “Lord Lannister.”

“Safe travels, Tully,” Jason replied, his voice dripping with false cheer.

Edwyn scowled but said nothing more, spurring his horse forward as his escort followed. Once they were out of earshot, Jason let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Well handled, Princess,” he said, his tone light but laced with amusement. “Though I could have managed just fine.”

“You were about to bite his head off,” you said dryly, steering your horse back onto the road. “Someone had to stop you.”

Jason grinned, falling into step beside you. “He deserved it.”

“Perhaps,” you conceded, glancing at him. “But you can’t go picking fights with every lord who irritates you.”

Jason’s grin widened, his green eyes gleaming. “Watch me.”

You sighed, shaking your head as the two of you continued toward Casterly Rock, the familiar rhythm of your banter easing the anxiety from the encounter. For all his flaws, Jason had a way of making even the most tedious journeys entertaining.

The courtyard of Casterly Rock was alive with the glow of thorches as Jason, you, and the escort returned from Lannisport. The imposing gates swung open to reveal the grand castle loud with activity. The sounds of laughter and the hum of conversation spilled from the great hall, mingling with the faint strains of music carried on the evening breeze.

Jason dismounted first, his usual confident grin firmly in place as he offered his hand to help you down. You ignored it, sliding off your horse with practiced ease, much to his amusement. “Still determined to be independent, I see,” he teased as you brushed past him.

Ser Lorent Marbrand dismounted behind you, his ever-watchful eyes scanning the courtyard as he followed you and Jason into the castle. The air inside was warm and inviting, the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine wafting through the halls. As you entered the great hall, the sight of King Viserys at the head table immediately caught your attention. He was surrounded by courtiers of the West and his own retainers, his face alight with joy as he raised his goblet in a toast.

Jason leaned closer to you. “What perfect timing,” he murmured. “Shall we make an entrance?”

Before you could protest, he took your hand and led you toward the center of the hall, where the music swelled. The courtiers parted to make way, their curious gazes lingering as Jason turned to face you, bowing with exaggerated courtesy.

“Care to dance, Princess?” he asked, his tone as smooth as silk.

You hesitated, glancing toward your father, who was already beaming at the sight of you and Jason. To refuse would only cause a scene, and so, with a reluctant sigh, you placed your hand in Jason’s.

The music shifted to a lively tune as Jason pulled you into the dance, his movements confident and fluid. Despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself matching his steps with ease, your natural grace rivaling his practiced charm. The space between you grew smaller with each turn, and the whispers among the courtiers grew louder. Jason’s hand rested lightly on your waist, his grip firm but not forceful, though the closeness of the dance made your pulse quicken.

“Enjoying yourself yet?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

“Not in the slightest,” you replied, your tone biting despite the faint flush rising in your cheeks.

Jason chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. “Liar.”

The dance slowed slightly, the music taking on a more intimate tone as Jason leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Nyke jaelagon naejot sagon iemnȳ ao,” he murmured in High Valyrian, his voice husky and deliberate.

You froze for the briefest moment, your eyes closing as you steadied your nerves. “Did you mean to say, ‘I want to drink in your beauty?’” you asked, your tone sharp but quiet enough that only he could hear. “Because what you actually said was, ‘I want to be within you.’”

Jason’s grin widened, utterly unrepentant. “Same thing.”

You pulled back just enough to glare at him, though the closeness of the dance kept you from creating any real distance. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Isn’t it?” he countered, his voice low and laced with amusement. “Both are true, after all.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you turned your gaze away, your movements faltering slightly before you regained your composure. Jason’s laughter was soft but genuine, and his grip on your waist tightened just enough to steady you.

From the head table, Viserys beamed, clearly delighted by the sight of his youngest daughter dancing so closely with the charming Lord Lannister. “Look at them!” he exclaimed to no one in particular, raising his goblet again. “A finer match I couldn’t imagine!”

You gritted your teeth, your patience wearing thin as Jason leaned in once more, his tone soft but teasing. “Relax, Princess. You’re doing wonderfully. Even your father thinks so.”

“Careful, Jason,” you warned, your voice a low hiss. “Push me too far, and I’ll end this dance by stepping on your toes.”

Jason laughed again, his eyes shining with a mix of amusement and admiration. “I’ll take my chances,” he murmured, spinning you into another turn as the music swelled around you, the energy between you crackling like the embers of a fire neither of you seemed willing to extinguish.

The dance continued, the music shifting to a slower, more intimate melody that seemed designed to draw partners closer. Jason took full advantage, his hand pressing slightly firmer against your waist as he guided you through the steps. The crowd seemed to melt away as his eyes locked onto yours, his smirk softening into something almost sincere.

“Do you ever stop being difficult?” he asked, his voice low enough to be drowned out by the music and murmurs of the hall.

You snorted lightly, though the closeness between you made it hard to keep your tone as sharp as you intended. “Not when it comes to you.”

Jason chuckled, his thumb brushing against your waist in a way that sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “You’re impossible. But that’s part of your charm.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” you said, your tone dry even as your heart quickened slightly.

“I’m not trying to flatter you,” Jason said, his expression shifting to something more earnest. “I’m trying to make you see reason.”

“Reason?” you echoed, arching a brow. “And what would that be?”

Jason spun you gently, his hand sliding back into place as he pulled you closer. “That I’m the best match for you, Princess. You’re clever, fiery, and impossible to ignore. And I’m stubborn enough to keep up with you.”

You huffed, shaking your head. “How generous of you to offer.”

“I’m serious,” he said, his tone dropping slightly. “You’re a Targaryen. You deserve someone who won’t try to dull your fire, who won’t be intimidated by your strength.”

“And you think you’re that someone?” you asked, your skepticism clear.

Jason grinned, though there was a flicker of sincerity in his eyes. “I know I am.”

You laughed softly, the sound more bitter than amused. “And why do you think I even want to get married?”

Jason tilted his head, his gaze studying you with the intensity that only a man as arrogant as he could manage. “You’re a princess,” he said simply. “It’s your duty.”

Your lips curved into a faint smirk, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “That’s Rhaenyra’s duty, not mine. She’s the heir, the one the realm watches like a hawk. Father’s far more forgiving when it comes to me.”

Jason’s brow furrowed slightly, though his steps never faltered. “You think that absolves you? That you can live your life free of the expectations your name brings?”

“I think it means I have choices,” you replied, your tone sharp but quiet. “Something you seem intent on taking from me.”

Jason’s jaw tightened briefly before he sighed, his grip on your waist softening. “I’m not trying to take anything from you, Princess. I’m offering you a chance to build something powerful—together.”

You glanced away, your gaze flicking toward the head table where your father watched with unabashed delight. “And what if I don’t want to build anything?”

Jason’s smirk returned, though it was tinged with amusement rather than arrogance. “Then you’d be wasting your potential. You’re not just a princess—you’re a dragon. And dragons don’t sit idle while the world passes them by.”

You rolled your eyes, though the faint flush on your cheeks betrayed the effect his words had. “You really do think highly of yourself, don’t you?”

Jason grinned. “Only because I think highly of you.”

The music began to fade, signaling the end of the dance, but Jason didn’t release you immediately. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his voice a soft murmur meant only for you. “Think about it, Princess. You and I—we’d be unstoppable.”

You met his gaze, your own expression guarded as you considered his words. “Or we’d kill each other within a moon’s turn.”

Jason laughed, the sound warm and unrestrained. “Possibly. But what a glorious way to go.”

The applause from the courtiers pulled your attention back to the present, and Jason finally released you, bowing with exaggerated courtesy. “Thank you for the dance, Princess.”

You inclined your head, your expression cool even as your pulse raced. “Don’t expect another.”

Jason’s smirk widened as he stepped back, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “We’ll see about that.”

Jason Lannister strode away from the center of the hall with the easy confidence of a man who knew the eyes of the room were on him. The lords of the Westerlands, gathered around a cluster of tables, greeted him with a mixture of camaraderie and admiration, their goblets raised in his honor.

“Well done, Jason!” one lord called, his voice thick with wine. “Dancing with a Targaryen princess, no less!”

��A rare sight indeed,” added another, his grin wide. “And not just any Targaryen—the sharp-tongued one! She hasn’t skewered you yet, which is more than most could say.”

Jason chuckled, accepting a goblet from a servant as he joined the group. “It takes a lion to handle a dragon,” he replied smoothly, his golden eyes gleaming. “And this lion is up to the task.”

The table erupted into laughter and cheers, the men toasting Jason’s boldness. Tyrek Hill, a minor noble known for his sharp wit, leaned closer, his tone playful. “Tell us, Jason, how do you manage it? The princess isn’t exactly known for her… accommodating nature.”

Jason smirked, taking a slow sip of wine before replying. “Persistence, Tyrek. Dragons respect strength and wit. Fortunately, I have both in abundance.”

The lords roared with laughter again, their voices blending with the lively chatter of the hall. Jason’s grin widened as he basked in the attention, but his gaze strayed more often than not to the head table, where you now sat with your father, Rhaenyra, and Alicent.

You were seated beside King Viserys, who looked thoroughly delighted, his jovial mood infecting those around him. Alicent, her pregnancy visible beneath her flowing green gown, sat to his other side, her demeanor calm and composed as she nibbled delicately on a piece of fruit. Rhaenyra, in contrast, wore a smirk that mirrored Jason’s, her violet eyes flicking between you and the Lannisters with thinly veiled amusement.

Jason’s gaze lingered on you as you leaned closer to your father, engaging him in quiet conversation. The way your silver hair caught the candlelight, the subtle tilt of your head, the stubborn fire in your expression—it all captivated him more than he cared to admit.

One of the lords beside him clapped him on the shoulder, pulling his attention back to the group. “Careful, Jason,” the man said, grinning. “You’re looking at her like a man in love.”

Jason laughed, though the comment struck closer to home than he would have liked. “Hardly. I’m simply appreciating my hard-earned progress.”

“Progress, is it?” Tyrek asked, raising a brow. “She doesn’t exactly look smitten.”

Jason’s grin turned wolfish. “Give it time. The fiercest dragons take the longest to tame.”

The lords erupted into laughter again, raising their goblets in another toast. Jason raised his own with a nod of thanks, though his gaze soon drifted back to the head table.

You had leaned back in your chair now, a faint frown tugging at your lips as Rhaenyra whispered something to you. Whatever it was, it made you roll your eyes and shake your head, a reaction that brought a small, amused smile to Jason’s lips. Even from across the room, your defiance was magnetic.

Viserys, oblivious to the tension swirling around him, suddenly raised his goblet in a loud toast. “To Lord Jason Lannister!” he boomed, his voice carrying over the din of the hall. “A true lion of the West and a fine companion for my daughter!”

The hall erupted into cheers and applause, though your expression soured visibly. Jason smirked, lifting his goblet in acknowledgment of the toast, but his gaze remained fixed on you, reveling in your obvious irritation.

“She’ll kill you before she marries you,” Tyrek quipped, shaking his head.

Jason chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Then at least I’ll die entertained.”

As the lords laughed again, Jason allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. 

Yet, the conversation took an unexpected turn when Lord Gerold Westerling, a stout man with salt-and-pepper hair and a perpetually serious expression, cleared his throat to speak.

“Well, Jason,” Westerling began, his tone measured but carrying an unmistakable undertone of suggestion, “you’ve certainly set your sights high with the princess. But if, for any reason, she opposes your suit or refuses a proposal…” He paused, sipping his wine as if to soften the blow of what he was about to say. “My daughter Joanna would be more than happy to accept your hand. She’s well-bred, charming, and has always admired you greatly.”

The gathered lords fell silent, their eyes darting between Westerling and Jason. A few exchanged wary glances, as if unsure whether to laugh or wince at the boldness of the comment. Jason’s smirk faltered for the briefest moment, the light in his eyes dimming as offense flickered across his face.

Jason set his goblet down with deliberate care, his jaw tightening briefly before he spoke. “Lord Westerling,” he said, his tone deceptively calm, though it carried a razor-sharp edge. “I appreciate your… generous offer. But I believe you misunderstand my intentions.”

Westerling raised a brow, clearly unfazed. “Do I?”

Jason straightened, his shoulders squaring as he met Westerling’s gaze head-on. “I have no need to consider alternatives. The king himself has expressed his support for a union between the princess and me. What sort of man would I be to set my sights lower when I’ve already been given the greatest honor?”

The tension at the table thickened, the other lords shifting uncomfortably as they sensed the growing ire behind Jason’s polished words. Westerling, however, seemed unbothered, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“Forgive me, my lord,” Westerling said, his tone dripping with feigned humility. “I only meant to suggest that one should always have contingencies. After all, the princess is… spirited, to say the least. Not every woman is so inclined toward the obligations of marriage.”

Jason’s laugh was sharp, devoid of warmth. “A Targaryen princess is worth any amount of spirit, my lord. And I, unlike some, am not intimidated by a challenge.”

Westerling’s smile faded, the slight jab landing as intended. Jason leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering but losing none of its intensity. “Perhaps it is difficult for some to imagine the ambition required to court a dragon. But I assure you, my ambitions do not waver. Nor do I settle for less than what I deserve.”

The other lords exchanged glances, a few chuckling nervously to lighten the mood. Tyrek Hill, ever the opportunist, chimed in with a wry grin. “Careful, Gerold. You don’t want to be the one who doubted Jason Lannister. He does have a habit of proving people wrong.”

Jason’s smirk returned, though it was tinged with something colder as he leaned back in his chair, lifting his goblet once more. “Precisely. And let me make one thing clear, gentlemen—there is no contingency when it comes to a dragon. A lion does not aspire to lesser prey.”

The lords murmured their agreement, though the unease in Westerling’s expression was evident as he inclined his head slightly. “Of course, Lord Jason. No offense was intended.”

“None taken,” Jason replied smoothly, though his golden eyes burned with quiet defiance. He took a deliberate sip of his wine, his gaze flickering back to the head table where you sat. Even from across the room, your posture and the faint set of your jaw spoke volumes about your annoyance.

Jason smiled faintly to himself, a silent promise forming in his mind. You were a dragon, proud and untamed, and he had no intention of letting anyone—least of all a lesser lord—doubt his resolve. Let Westerling keep his daughter and his contingencies. Jason Lannister would settle for nothing less than the fire and fury of a Targaryen princess.

Viserys sat in private chambers, goblet in hand, his expression unusually serious. You stood by the window, your arms crossed as you looked out at the sprawling view of the Westerlands, the grandeur of Casterly Rock serving as an ever-present reminder of the reason for this conversation. The weight of your father’s gaze pressed on you even before he spoke.

“Sit,” Viserys said softly, gesturing to the chair across from him.

You sighed, reluctantly turning and taking a seat. “What is it, Father?”

Viserys studied you for a moment, swirling the wine in his goblet as he searched for the right words. “I wanted to speak with you about Lord Jason.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back in the chair. “Of course you did.”

Viserys frowned at your tone but pressed on. “He has made his intentions clear. He will seek your hand, and I—” He hesitated, then met your gaze. “I want to know your thoughts on the matter.”

You raised a brow, the frustration bubbling beneath your calm facade. “My thoughts? I think I don’t have the patience for a marriage, especially to someone like Jason. He aims to elevate his House’s status through my bloodline, nothing more.”

Viserys’s expression darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You sound just like Rhaenyra.”

Your jaw tightened. “Perhaps because she understands what it means to have our worth measured in alliances and heirs.”

“That is not how the realm works,” Viserys said sharply, his voice carrying an edge of irritation. “You may not be the heir, but you are a princess of House Targaryen. You must marry. It is your duty.”

“My duty?” you echoed, your tone sharper now. “Rhaenyra is the heir. The entire realm watches her every move. Father, you’ve never held me to the same standard, and now you’re ready to sell me off because Lord Jason flatters you?”

Viserys’s shoulders sagged slightly, his expression softening as he set his goblet down. “It is not about flattery. It’s about ensuring your future. Jason may be ambitious, yes, but he is also a strong lord, capable and respected. And more than that… he cares for you.”

You barked a laugh, the sound harsh. “Cares for me? Jason only cares about himself. His smirks, his clever words, his relentless pursuit—it’s all for his own gain. He sees me as a trophy to elevate his House, nothing more.”

Viserys shook his head, his voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t see it that way. Jason is arrogant, yes, but I’ve watched him. He doesn’t look at you like someone seeking a prize. He looks at you as someone he admires.”

“Admiration isn’t love,” you said firmly, your gaze locking with his. “And even if it were, what of my feelings? Shouldn’t they matter?”

Viserys leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly together. “They do matter, but so does your duty. I would never force you into something that would bring you misery, but I want you to consider this: Jason isn’t some greedy, unworthy suitor. He is proud, yes, but I believe he truly wants to build something with you. Something lasting.”

You hesitated, your father’s earnestness catching you off guard. “And what if you’re wrong?” you asked quietly. “What if it’s all a game to him?”

Viserys sighed, his age showing in the lines of his face as he looked at you with a mixture of hope and weariness. “I don’t believe it is. But if you truly think so, then tell me. Convince me he’s unworthy. But if you cannot… then I ask you to think on this. The realm is harsh, my daughter. I would wish for you to marry someone who cares about you, at least a little. If not for love, then for partnership.”

Your gaze dropped to your lap, your thoughts swirling. Jason’s relentless pursuit, his arrogance, his charm—it all grated on your nerves, yet there was a spark of something genuine beneath his polished exterior. You hated to admit it, but you couldn’t entirely dismiss what your father was saying.

“I need time to think,” you said finally, your voice quiet but firm.

Viserys nodded, his expression softening into a small smile. “Of course. I won’t rush you. But know that I only want what’s best for you.”

You stood, your movements stiff as you turned back toward the window. “I’ll think about it, Father. But don’t expect me to bend so easily.”

Viserys chuckled softly, his gaze following you. “You are your mother’s daughter, through and through. Stubborn to the end.”

You didn’t respond, your thoughts too tangled to form a reply. The flickering light of the hearth reflected in the glass as you stared out at the horizon, the weight of your father’s words settling heavily on your shoulders.

You stood near the stables, your cloak draped over your shoulders against the crisp breeze. The air carried the faint scent of hay and leather, mingling with the soft nickering of horses. Beside you, Ser Lorent Marbrand stood silently, his stoic presence as constant as ever, the reins of his horse in one hand and a watchful gaze fixed on you.

The horse Jason had gifted you the day you visited Lannisport, a sleek dappled grey with a proud stance, was being prepared by a stablehand nearby. You adjusted your gloves, your mood far from bright after your conversation with your father the previous evening. The prospect of a quiet ride was your only solace.

But, as always, Jason Lannister had other plans.

He arrived with his usual air of unshakable confidence, his golden hair catching the light as he strode into the courtyard. His grin was firmly in place, the kind that both irritated and intrigued you in equal measure. “Good morning, Princess,” he called, his tone far too cheerful for your liking. “Heading out for a ride, I see.”

You turned to him, your expression guarded. “I was.”

Jason stopped before you, his gaze flicking to the grey mare before returning to you. “A fine horse, isn’t she? I made sure she was the best in the stables.”

“She’ll do,” you replied curtly, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of praise.

Jason chuckled, stepping closer to the mare and gesturing to the stablehand, who quickly stepped aside. “Allow me to prepare her for you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. “That’s hardly necessary. She’s already being saddled.”

Jason ignored your protest, running a hand down the mare’s flank with practiced ease. “It’s a lord’s duty to ensure his guest—especially one as esteemed as you—is well cared for.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “I’m not a guest, Jason. I’m a hostage to your incessant need for attention.”

His grin widened, unbothered by the barb. “Call it what you like, Princess. But if I don’t do this, I’ll be thinking about it all day.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, glancing at Ser Lorent, who raised a brow but said nothing. Finally, you turned back to Jason. “Fine. Do what you must. But be quick about it.”

Jason’s smirk deepened as he set to work, adjusting the saddle and checking the reins with meticulous care. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, begrudgingly noting the ease with which he handled the horse. His hands were sure, his movements precise—a reminder that there was more to Jason Lannister than charm and arrogance, though you’d never admit it aloud.

When he finished, he stepped back, brushing his hands together. “There. She’s ready.”

Before you could reply, Jason turned to Ser Lorent, his tone casual but firm. “Thank you for your service, Ser Lorent. I’ll take it from here.”

Lorent’s expression didn’t waver, his hand tightening slightly on his reins. “With respect, my lord, I am here to escort the princess.”

Jason’s grin didn’t falter, but there was a sharpness to his gaze now. “And I am the Lord of Casterly Rock, ensuring her safety. You may stand down.”

Lorent glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Your Highness?”

You rolled your eyes, already tiring of the exchange. “It’s fine, Ser Lorent. You can wait by the gates until I decide to ride out.”

Lorent hesitated for a moment longer before nodding stiffly. “As you wish, Princess.” He gave Jason a lingering look before leading his horse toward the gates, his posture tense.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Jason, your arms crossing again. “What are you playing at, Jason?”

He tilted his head, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. “Playing? I’m doing nothing of the sort.”

You raised a brow, unimpressed. “You just dismissed my knight and insisted on saddling my horse. If that’s not a game, then what is it?”

Jason stepped closer, his golden eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and sincerity. “Perhaps I’m just trying to make an impression.”

“You’ve already done that,” you replied dryly. “And not necessarily a good one.”

Jason laughed softly, shaking his head. “You wound me, Princess. But come, there’s something I want to show you.”

You frowned, wary of his intentions. “And why should I follow you?”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Because you’re curious. And because, despite your best efforts, you don’t hate me nearly as much as you pretend to.”

Your eyes narrowed, but before you could retort, Jason stepped back, his smirk firmly in place. “Well, Princess? Shall we?”

Jason led you away from the courtyard, the noise of the castle fading as you descended a winding path toward the base of one of Casterly Rock’s oldest towers. The stone structure loomed above you, its weathered facade partially shrouded by climbing ivy. The air grew cooler as the shadows of the tower enveloped you, and the only sounds were the faint whispers of the wind and the occasional clink of your boots against the cobblestones.

“Why are we here, Jason?” you asked, your tone tinged with irritation as you glanced at the unremarkable surroundings.

Jason stopped near the tower’s base, turning to you with his usual smirk. “Patience, Princess. I wanted to show you something.”

He gestured to the structure, his eyes carrying a mix of pride and something else. “This is one of the oldest towers in the Rock. It’s withstood centuries of storms, sieges, and time itself. But recently, I ordered some parts of it to be upgraded and restored.”

You arched a brow, unimpressed. “Fascinating. Truly, I’ve never seen stones before.”

Jason chuckled, stepping closer to you. “Oh, but these are no ordinary stones. This tower is part of Casterly Rock’s legacy. And soon, it’ll bear a touch of yours.”

That caught your attention, though you masked it with a scoff. “What do you mean by that?”

Jason grinned, gesturing upward. “I’ve commissioned a carving for the upper levels—a dragon, fierce and proud, entwined with a lion. A symbol of unity. Of fire and strength.”

You stared at him for a moment, your irritation giving way to faint surprise. “You want to put a Targaryen emblem on Casterly Rock?”

“Why not?” Jason replied, his tone casual. “If we’re to join our houses, shouldn’t the Rock reflect that?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could, Jason stepped closer, his movements deliberate. Without warning, he pinned you against the cool stone of the tower, his hands braced on either side of you. His proximity was overwhelming, his green eyes burning with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

“Jason,” you began, your voice sharper now, “what are you—”

“I’m showing you how serious I am,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with intent.

You scoffed, trying to push past him. “This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.”

But before you could move, his lips were on yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. The kiss was fierce, demanding, and utterly maddening, leaving you momentarily stunned. His hands moved to your waist, holding you firmly in place as he deepened the kiss, his confidence unshakable.

“Jason,” you gasped as you broke the kiss, your tone a mixture of irritation and something you refused to name. “We need to stop doing this.”

“I don’t want to,” he said simply, his voice husky as he leaned in again. His lips found yours, and this time, you couldn’t summon the strength to resist. 

Your hands found their way to his tunic, pulling him closer even as you cursed yourself for giving in again. Jason’s hands worked with practiced ease, loosening the ties of your cloak and the lower layers of your clothing. The cool air brushed against your skin, but the heat of his touch quickly chased it away. You hissed as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, your voice breathless as your hands moved to help him with his own clothing.

Jason smirked, his lips brushing against your ear with now familiar replay. “And you’re irresistible.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, though the sharpness of your tone was undermined by the way your body leaned into his.

Jason chuckled, but for once, he obeyed, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. His hands found your hips, and with one swift motion, your bodies joined. The familiar stretch and sensation sent a jolt of heat through you, stealing the air from your lungs. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his rhythm relentless and commanding.

The cool stone pressed into your back, grounding you as Jason’s hips moved against yours in a relentless rhythm. The sounds of your shared passion echoed off the ancient tower walls, raw and untamed. His hands were everywhere—gripping your thighs, your waist, your arms—like he couldn’t bear even a moment without touching you. Each movement of his body against yours drew a gasp or a moan from your lips, and to his delight, you stopped holding back.

“You’re incredible,” Jason growled, his breath hot against your ear. His voice was hoarse, his usual pomp replaced by something feral and raw. “The way you take me, Princess—it’s like you were made for this. Made for me.”

“Jason,” you hissed, your nails digging into his shoulders. You wanted to snap at him, to scold him for his arrogance, but the way his body filled you, moved against you, had stolen every coherent thought from your mind.

Jason smirked against your neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there before he bit down gently, pulling a gasp from you. “Say my name like that again,” he demanded, his tone both commanding and teasing. “Let me hear it.”

Your reply was a moan as he adjusted his angle, his hips driving deeper. The sound made him chuckle darkly, his hands gripping your hips tighter to pull you flush against him. “Gods, you’re perfect like this. So desperate, so needy for me. Tell me, Princess—does anyone else make you feel this way?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer, but your silence only emboldened him. He slowed his pace deliberately, grinding against you in a way that made you tremble. “No one else, right? No one else could have you like this.”

“Jason—” His name escaped your lips again, softer this time, and your voice trembled with frustration. His confidence was maddening, but the heat pooling in your core was impossible to deny.

“That’s right,” he murmured, his tone low and possessive. “You’re mine. My dragon, my fire.” His lips found your collarbone, trailing kisses down your chest as he whispered, “Say it.”

“Never,” you managed to gasp, though the defiance in your voice was undercut by the way your body arched against him.

Jason smirked, one hand slipping between your bodies to stroke you in time with his thrusts. The pleasure was overwhelming, and your defiance quickly crumbled as a wave of heat coursed through you.

“Say it,” he demanded again, his voice rough. “Tell me you’re mine, Y/N.”

“I—” Your voice caught as another surge of pleasure made your knees weak. You hated how easily he unraveled you, but there was no escaping the truth. “I’m—”

“Mine,” he finished for you, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss. His hand tightened on your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist as he drove into you harder, faster. Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure through you, making it impossible to think, let alone argue.

“Jason,” you cried out, your voice breaking as your release built dangerously close. He growled in response, his lips trailing down your neck again, leaving marks that you knew would linger.

“You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?” he said, his voice wickedly low. “I can feel it, the way you’re tightening around me. You’re so close, my fiery little dragon.”

You wanted to retort, to say something sharp, but his crude words only pushed you closer to the edge. You hated how much they affected you, but at the same time, you didn’t want him to stop. “Jason—”

“Come on,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “Let go for me. Let me feel you.”

The combination of his words, his touch, and the unrelenting pace of his movements was too much. Your body trembled as your release washed over you, a wave of pleasure so intense that you cried out, your nails raking down his back. Jason groaned, his own control breaking as he followed you over the edge. He buried himself deep inside you, his grip on your hips tightening as he held you against him, the heat of his release spilling into you.

For a moment, the two of you were utterly still, your breathing heavy as you clung to each other. The world outside the tower seemed to disappear, leaving only the sound of your pounding hearts and the lingering heat between you.

Jason finally broke the silence, his voice low and teasing. “You’re going to admit it one day, you know. That you’re mine.”

You opened your mouth to snap back, but a final aftershock of pleasure rippled through you, stealing your breath and cutting off your retort. Jason chuckled, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, “That’s what I thought.”

[ask-irisstar]

Having triplets with Zoro will include...

A/N: Sorry for disappearing for a few days. My brain was empty af and this suddenly came to mind. Hope yall enjoy this fic!

Notes: Zoro x Fem reader, Fluff, SFW

Has triplets just to match his sword style

Straps his kids to his body (He makes all three of the fit, trust)

Gives his kids a kitchen knife just to teach them swordsmanship

You: I will NOT have MY babies holding a KNIFE at such a young age Zoro: Relax, they're fine... You: (kids name) NEARLY CUT HIM/HERSELF!!

All three kids inherited Zoro's sense of direction

May or may not have a sense of smell (Cuz no way the kids can stand his body odor)

Naps all day=cute pictures to take for blackmail

Expect to see your triplets sleeping on top of a sleeping Zoro

Zoro mostly cares for the babies during the night while you in the morning

You just deal with feeding mostly since Zoro is naturally great with kids

Will boast to Sanji about having babies

Sanji crying because he knew Zoro had sex with you the entire time ya'll were dating PLUS he married you PLUS had three healthy babies

When your triplets grow older he'll give each triplet one of his earrings (Every pirate/Marine will know that the triplets are the sons/daughters of Roronoa Zoro)

Once you guys kids grew up and leave the crew to start their own journey, Zoro wants MORE kids

"Hey babe, let's have more kids..." "We're like 38 years old..." "And I don't fucking care..."

Poceeds to fuck a baby into you

Long story short, y'all had more kids...

______________________________________________________________

That's a wrap! I hope you guys enjoy this! Don't forget to request!! Please, I beg, send me more request...

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Reunited 5

Pairing: modern!Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: So this is it. The journey has come to the end and I'm a bit sad but also very happy. This fic has a lot my own struggles within it and it has helped me to think over and let go of certain things that had accumulated. But before Sihtric and reader can look forward into the bright and shiny future they have to resolve some unsorted questions. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Warnings: it's emotionally tense with some angst and self reflection but still sweet

Summary: It was supposed to be a short two week trip that turned into five long years apart, just because your best friend couldn't keep her mouth shut. Will the reader and Sihtric manage to repair their broken relationship and find their way back to each other? Or will the reader decide to stay with the handsome and talented Sigtryggr?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Word Count: 7,8 K

Please remember that comments and reblogs are two things that make writers smile and keep us motivated.

You felt a surge of betrayal twist through you, an uncomfortable déjà vu that made your stomach drop. The whole scene was surreal, and your mind spun, trying to piece it all together. But before you could say a word, Sigtryggr's hand found yours under the blanket, his grip firm and panicked.

“This—this isn’t what it looks like, I swear,” he stammered, his face pale and clearly horrified by the scene unfolding. He scrambled to sit up, looking between you and the woman standing in the doorway. “This is… this is Stiorra, my ex-girlfriend.”

Stiorra crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised as she regarded him with a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “And in case there’s any doubt,” she interjected, “I’m the one who threw him out.” Her eyes flicked to you, and a slightly sheepish smile softened her expression. “Told him to never come back, actually.”

Sigtryggr winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not exactly a high point in our relationship,” he muttered. Then, as if desperate to regain some semblance of control, he gestured toward the kitchen. “Stiorra, why don’t you, uh… wait in the kitchen? Give us a moment?”

With a sigh that suggested she was equally exhausted by this awkward situation, Stiorra shrugged. “Fine. But we’re talking after,” she said, shooting him a look that clearly communicated there was unfinished business between them. She turned on her heel, retreating to the kitchen and leaving the two of you in a tense silence.

You exhaled, still feeling the sting of surprise. “So, let me get this straight. Your ex-girlfriend who kicked you out now has a key and comes barging in?”

Sigtryggr’s cheeks flushed as he stumbled over his words. “It’s… complicated. We broke up months ago. She kept the key for emergencies, but I didn’t think she’d actually use it. I mean, she made it pretty clear she never wanted to see me again.” He shook his head, his eyes wide with a mixture of embarrassment and desperation. “I had no idea she’d be coming by today, I swear.”

You let out a breath, half-amused by his genuine horror at the situation. Despite everything, there was something undeniably ridiculous about it all. Here was this cool, collected artist, now completely rattled by his ex-girlfriend unexpectedly showing up while he was in bed with someone else.

You finally cracked a small smile. “You couldn’t make this up if you tried.”

He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “This really isn’t how I imagined our morning together going. I’m sorry.”

Before you could respond, Stiorra’s voice called from the kitchen. “I’m making coffee. There’s milk and sugar somewhere—if Sigtryggr actually bought groceries this week, that is.”

Sigtryggr’s eyes met yours, full of sheepishness, and you couldn’t help but laugh, the tension starting to dissolve. “I’ll take that as a hint to get dressed,” you said, sliding out of bed and grabbing your clothes, feeling his gaze following you apologetically.

“Take your time,” Stiorra called again, her voice faintly dripping with irony. “I’ll try not to make it more awkward.”

As if more awkward was even possible, a stifled laugh escaped you as you slipped into your clothes, feeling like you were in some strange, twisted sitcom. Sigtryggr joined you, tossing on his shirt and jeans quickly, his eyes darting nervously between you and the kitchen.

Once you were both dressed, you headed to the kitchen. Stiorra was there, leaning against the counter with a mug in hand, her lips twisted in a wry smile. She looked at you and Sigtryggr with an expression that was part curiosity, part thinly veiled irritation. Two other steaming mugs waited on the counter and you grabbed one like a life saviour.

"Well," she drawled, swirling her coffee. "I see you’ve wasted no time finding a replacement." Her gaze flicked from you to Sigtryggr, her tone razor-sharp. "Or were you just waiting for the perfect moment to jump into someone else’s bed, Sigtryggr? Good to know you’ve been so… resilient."

You saw a flicker of hurt cross Sigtryggr’s face as he tried to respond, his gaze darting briefly to you before returning to Stiorra, as if caught in some unresolved pull. He shifted beside you, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Stiorra," he managed, his voice tight, "you know it’s not  like that. It’s been almost half a year..."

But she didn’t give him room to explain. She looked down at her coffee, a hint of sadness breaking through her sarcasm as her fingers tightened around the mug. "I didn’t come here to make a scene," she murmured, her tone softening. "I just… I thought I wanted to move on. But maybe I was wrong."

You swallowed hard, your eyes darted from Sigtryggr to his ex-girlfriend and truth be told the only coherent thought was the increasingly intensive wish for the earth to open up and swallow you whole. Facing lions in the Colosseum would have been a more appealing option than drinking coffee in what you’d thought was your new boyfriend’s kitchen, watching it turn into a stage for a soap opera. Whoever said, "If something looks too good to be true, it probably is," had clearly known exactly what they were talking about.

Stiorra lifted her gaze to meet Sigtryggr’s, her defiance melting into something softer, tinged with regret. 

"Siggy, baby, I’m so sorry!" she blurted, her voice cracking as her teary eyes searched his. The sudden burst of emotions startled you both, leaving the room steeped in uncomfortable tension. "Leaving you wasn’t what I thought I wanted," she continued, the words tumbling out, unrestrained and unguarded. "It was the biggest mistake of my life, and I just hoped you… you might feel the same. I couldn’t wait any longer—I just needed to tell you this." Her gaze darted back to the steaming coffee in her hands, as though she couldn’t bear to face him anymore. “I never imagined you’d move on so fast, not after everything we had together.”

You glanced over at Sigtryggr, who looked as if he’d just been slapped with a cold fish. The usual calm, steady demeanour he carried so effortlessly was gone, replaced by a vulnerable uncertainty you hadn’t seen before. His mouth opened as if to respond, then closed again, his mind clearly spinning in too many directions to form coherent words. He looked at you briefly, but his attention was drawn back to Stiorra, as if caught by an invisible thread that still connected them.

His eyes softened, a hint of that old, unguarded affection surfacing as he stammered. “Stiorra, I… I didn’t expect this. I thought… we were over. I thought you’d moved on.”

The longing in his voice was unmistakable. You felt an odd pang, a mixture of empathy and unease as you watched him struggle. The way he looked at her, his gaze clouded with both confusion and something undeniably tender, told you more than his words ever could. And strangely you didn’t even feel betrayed. You felt a deep understanding, even sympathy kindling within you. 

It was clearly time to make an exit before this scene turned into a full-blown tragicomedy. But before you could even think of a polite way to excuse yourself, Stiorra’s gaze shifted to you, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“Oh, I know who you are,” she said, her tone casual—almost too casual. “You must be the mysterious girl who broke Sihtric’s heart. I’ve seen your picture, actually. He still keeps one in his wallet.”

“What?” The words hit you like a frying pan to the face, and you nearly dropped your coffee mug. This was beyond surreal; it was a nightmare layered with unwanted revelations. You glanced around, looking for any possible way to evaporate from the room as a wave of nausea crept over you.

Stiorra caught your reaction, her gaze sharpening as if sensing your unease. “No,” she said, her eyes assessing you calmly. “Not like that. Sihtric and I were never… involved.” She gave a casual shrug, one that seemed both reassuring and indifferent. “But I know him well enough. He worked for my father, Uhtred, for quite some time. And we have some mutual friends—Finan, Osferth. They’re close, practically brothers.”

You swallowed, still processing the shock as she spoke, and noticed the way her gaze flickered, slightly more empathetic now. Sigtryggr shifted beside you, clearly uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading, his gaze moving between you and Stiorra.

“Stiorra,” he said, clearing his throat, his voice a mixture of discomfort and quiet insistence, “I think we’re all getting a bit caught off guard here.”

Stiorra shrugged, but her expression softened as she looked back at him. “Maybe,” she admitted, voice gentler now. “But some things are better said than left hanging.” She turned her attention back to you. “Haven’t seen him in a while, but… he never really got over you, you know.”

The words landed like a stone in your chest, and for a moment, you felt the weight of everything you’d tried to put behind you pressing in. 

“Wait, hold on!” you blurted out, the words escaping faster than you could stop them and surely much louder than you wanted. “I broke his heart? What the hell are you talking about? He was the one who found someone else less than a week after I was out of sight.”

Stiorra’s eyes widened at your outburst. She hesitated before responding, her voice softer, almost cautious. “Wait… really? I don’t know all the details,” she admitted, glancing away briefly, “but I know for sure that Sihtric has been a mess since you left. Osferth and Finan have been trying to get him back on his feet, trying to knock some sense into him. But he’s just… shut everyone out, suffering in silence.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but something in her expression stopped you. There was a subtle reproach that made you falter.

Her words stung. You knew them—Osferth and Finan—Sihtric’s closest friends. Meeting them had felt like a significant step, almost as if you were meeting his family. Sihtric barely spoke about his parents or any siblings, but these two were an inseparable part of his life. The night he’d introduced you to them still lingered vividly in your memory.

Finan had taken to you right away, looking at you with an approving grin, clapping Sihtric on the shoulder and saying, “Finally, he’s found someone who might actually keep him in line.” His easy laughter and quick wit made you feel like you’d known him for years, and there was a warmth to his acceptance that had meant more than he probably knew.

Osferth, meanwhile, had been a bit more reserved, a touch of shyness in his gentle eyes. But there had been a sweetness in the way he’d talked to you, always quick to ask if you needed anything, checking that you felt included. You’d quickly learned he was the steady, caring presence in their group, looking out for both Sihtric and Finan with a brotherly devotion.

Those early evenings with them had been filled with laughter and endless stories from their nights out. You’d felt embraced by the friendship, a part of the easy bond they all shared. But when Sihtric walked out of your life, that sense of belonging had vanished too. They had been his friends, not yours, and your connection with them had ended as abruptly as your relationship with him.

“Look,” Stiorra continued, her voice pulling you back from your thoughts, “there are always two sides to a story. But only one truth. If you want to know more, maybe… maybe you should talk to Finan and Osferth. They know him better than anyone and could probably tell you more than I can.”

Without another word, you stood up, the urge to leave overpowering any sense of decorum. Sigtryggr reached out, his face a mix of surprise and worry as he tried to get your attention. “Hey, are you okay? What’s going on?”

You shook your head, barely able to meet his gaze. “I just… I need to go. I need…” The words trailed off, but you didn’t even bother to finish the sentence as you hastily grabbed your purse and headed to the doors without a single look back. 

You knew that Osferth worked as an assistant stylist at one of the top fashion studios, and Finan had a reputation as a brilliant set designer, always moving between shoots with an infectious energy. They were well-known figures in the industry, so it didn’t take long to track them down at a nearby studio where they were scheduled to prepare for an upcoming campaign.

The studio was bustling when you arrived. Assistants hurried about, racks of clothes lined the walls, and the hum of people preparing for a major shoot filled the space. You spotted Finan first, standing with his hands on his hips, joking with a lighting technician, his signature grin lighting up his face. Beside him, Osferth was focused on arranging a set of accessories on a table, his usually reserved expression serious as he worked.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, and Finan caught sight of you. His grin faded, replaced by surprise that quickly gave way to guarded curiosity. He nudged Osferth, who looked up in shock, the familiar softness in his eyes now laced with uncertainty and distance you hadn’t expected. The two exchanged a look before approaching you, their movements careful, almost wary, as if they were unsure of how to greet you.

“Hey,” you managed, your voice catching. “I… I need to talk to you. About Sihtric.”

“Well,” Finan said, crossing his arms, his voice lacking its usual warmth. “If it isn’t the ghost from Sihtric’s past.”

The jab landed harder than you’d expected, his accusatory tone sinking into you like a heavy stone.

Finan’s gaze was steely, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he fixed you with an unforgiving look. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him?” he said, his voice thick with frustration. “Twice now, you’ve come crashing into his life—first, tearing him apart, and now, strolling back in like a stranger, as if he doesn’t deserve even a shred of understanding for everything he’s been through. The least you could do is thank him for what he did for you.”

“What he did for me?” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper, caught in a haze of disbelief. You couldn’t even process the meaning behind his accusations, feeling as if you’d just walked into an ambush. You regretted coming here, every instinct screaming at you to turn and leave, to escape this room and the anger that pressed down on you from all sides. Blinking back tears that threatened to spill, you took a shaky step back, but Finan didn’t relent.

He moved closer, his gaze piercing, his voice unyielding. “Do you know how long it took him to get his life back together after you left?” he continued, his tone unwavering. “To even begin piecing himself back together? And then you show up out of nowhere, with no idea what he’s been through, and somehow make him fall all over again.”

Stunned, you stared at him, but he wasn’t finished. “We’ve been trying to help him move on for ages. Osferth and I—do you know how many nights we’ve spent picking him up after he shut everyone out, barely holding on? He’s been carrying this burden alone since the day he let you go.” Finan scoffed, his voice low and dark with exasperation. “And you—you have the nerve to walk back and judge him?”

You wanted to move but you felt rooted to the spot as you couldn’t keep the tears from rolling down your cheeks anymore. “Thank him? For what? For dropping me and finding another less than a week after I wasn’t in sight? For ruining my life, leaving me gathering the shards?”

Finan drew a deep breath, but Osferth interrupted him, placing a calming hand on Finan’s arm, though his face still held traces of disappointment as he looked at you. “Finan wait. Something’s not right there.” His eyes shifted to you, his expression softening, but only slightly. “And that’s all you know about what happened?”  he asked, his tone measured but no less serious. 

“What else is there to know?” you snapped, frustration simmering in your chest. “I thought he loved me, and the next thing I know, he’s moved on like I never existed. I think I have a right to be a little angry.”

Finan exchanged a glance with Osferth, as if confirming something, then sighed, rubbing his temples. “So, Gisela never told you why he did it?”

You felt your stomach clench at the mention of Gisela. Confusion gave way to a creeping unease, your mind racing to piece together what they were trying to say. “Gisela?” you repeated, barely masking the surprise in your voice. “What does she have to do with any of this?”

Osferth shifted uncomfortably, his gaze turning thoughtful. “Gisela came to him. Said it would be better if he… stepped aside. She told him about that offer you got, the scholarship and the contract – that once in a lifetime opportunity for you. She’s the one who convinced him to let you go. She told him it would be best for you to focus on your future, that he was holding you back.  And Sihtric… well, he thought he was doing what was best for you.”

“Best for me?” The words felt hollow, ringing with an irony that cut deeper with each syllable. You felt a wave of disbelief crash over you, your stomach twisting as you processed his words.

Osferth nodded, his gaze sombre. “He figured if he just… cut ties, you’d have no reason to look back. He tried to bury how he felt, make you believe he’d moved on. But we both know it tore him apart. He’s never been the same since you left.”

You felt your knees weaken, the ground beneath you seeming to tilt as the truth settled over you, each piece of information landing like a blow. The anger, the hurt, the betrayal—all of it twisted into something else, something that left you feeling hollow. Your legs gave way, turning to jelly, and you would have surely hit the ground if Finan and Osferth hadn’t steadied you from each side.

“Easy there!” Finan’s voice had softened, a warmth returning that you hadn’t expected as he guided you, his anger replaced by concern. He quickly waved to a set assistant walking nearby. “Get a chair—and some water!” he called, his tone firm but urgent.

You barely noticed the assistant rushing off. A chair was brought over, and Finan and Osferth eased you into it, the world around you blurring as you tried to comprehend what you just heard. Osferth knelt beside you, his eyes steady and full of sadness as he handed you the water.

“I… I didn’t know,” you stammered, the words feeling small, inadequate. You looked at them, your voice cracking. “I thought he… I thought he didn’t care. I thought he wanted me gone.”

Finan shook his head, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. “It was never about him not caring. He thought he was doing the right thing—for you.”

“He’s been living with that choice,” Finan added quietly, his eyes meeting yours, “because he thought it would give you a better life.”

Osferth placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his tone gentle. “Sometimes people make the hardest choices for the ones they love. Doesn’t mean they don’t hurt just as much.”

“Maybe… maybe it’s time you hear it from him,” Finan said softly, his tone no longer accusatory but understanding.

—---------------------------------------------------

The worry gnawed at you, growing with each unanswered call, each message left unread. Sihtric had vanished after the fashion show, and as the hours without a word turned into an entire day, you found yourself pacing around your apartment like a caged animal, restless and frustrated.

You hadn’t wanted to go to his place—not at first. The idea of stepping into his space felt like giving up the neutral ground you’d hoped to keep. But as your concern deepened, it became clear that there was no other option. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed your things and headed out, finally making your way to his apartment.

When you arrived, you looked up to see a warm glow coming from Sihtric’s window. Relief flooded over you—he was home. You exhaled deeply, feeling the tightness in your chest ease, if only a little. You deliberately chose the stairs over the elevator, hoping the walk up would give you time to gather your thoughts. But even with the extra moments, your mind remained frustratingly blank, and your heart raced like a drumbeat in your chest.

Standing in front of his door, you raised your hand to the doorbell, trying to ignore the nervous twist in your stomach. But instead of ringing, you pressed your palm and ear to the door, straining to hear any sign of movement on the other side. Come on, you can do this, you urged yourself, taking a deep, steadying breath. Finally, you lifted your hand and pressed the button, feeling your pulse quicken as you waited for him to answer.

A sinking feeling twisted in your gut as there was only silence on the other side but you refused to give up. You pressed the doorbell again, then again, determined to get some response. Still, nothing.

“Sihtric,” you finally called. “I know you’re in there. I can see the light. Please, just talk to me.”

Silence stretched, pressing down on you. Frustrated, you balled your fists and pounded on the door, the echo of each hit ricocheting down the empty corridor. Somewhere down the hall, a door creaked open, and you glanced over your shoulder to find a pair of curious, disapproving eyes peering at you through a crack. But you were beyond caring about nosy neighbours. Ignoring them, you turned back to Sihtric’s door and knocked again, your voice catching slightly as you called his name once more.

Just as you felt the last shimmer of hope begin to slip away, you heard a faint shuffle behind the door, the sound of hesitant footsteps drawing closer. Relief flickered through you, only to fade as his voice, rough and bitter, cut through the silence.

“Just… go away,” he muttered, his tone carrying a heaviness that felt like a punch to the chest. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Sihtric?” you called, pressing a hand against the door. “Please, open up. I just want to talk.”

Silence. But you knew he was there, so you waited. A bitter, muffled voice finally answered. “Why? There’s nothing more to talk about,” he replied, his tone rough, barely masking the exhaustion in his voice. “Just… leave me alone.”

Ignoring his dismissal, you leaned closer, unwilling to let him shut you out. “Sihtric, please. I was wrong. I was wrong not wanting to listen to you, shutting you out. Please open the door, so we can talk. I just… I need to understand.”

He scoffed from the other side, the bitterness in his voice cutting. “Understand? You want to understand now? Why? You have your perfect little life, your perfect job, your prince charming.” His words were laced with sarcasm. “You want to judge me? I already gave you the chance for that at the show. I saw it on your face. I don’t need more of that.”

You pressed your forehead against the door, your heart pounding as you tried to will back tears slowly gathering in the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry. Sihtric, can you hear me? I’m so sorry. And I wasn’t judging you, Sihtric. I was just… surprised. I’m not here to make things worse. I came because I care.”

On the other side of the door, Sihtric stood still, barely breathing, his entire body tense. He could feel the ache in his shoulders and neck, the result of hours spent tossing and turning through a sleepless night, haunted by thoughts of you and his own spiralling decisions. Every muscle felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion, regret and anger.

He wanted to open the door. Part of him ached to see you, to hear your voice without the barrier between you. But another part—larger, stronger, the part that had convinced him to let you go years ago—held him back. That part reminded him of everything he’d become, the mess he’d made of his life since then, and the humiliation of his drunken, jealousy-fueled outburst at the fashion show. He clenched his fists, fighting the shame that burned inside him, wondering if he could ever face you again.

His heart pounded, each beat reverberating with the bitterness that had taken root within him. What did he have to offer you now? He was broken, he knew that much, and he’d spent too long building up his defences to believe someone would want to come close enough to help him pick up the pieces. Especially not you—the one person he’d hurt most by pushing you away.

Drawing a deep shaky breath he slowly slid down to the ground, resting his back against the door. His elbows propped on his knees he buried his face in his hands, the world reduced to the darkness behind his closed eyelids. 

The memories of the fashion show flashed in his mind—your face when he’d approached you, the shock and disappointment in your eyes, the way he’d stumbled through his words, lost in a haze of jealousy and alcohol. The regret was a deep wound now, throbbing with every word you spoke on the other side of the door.

What could he say to you? That he was sorry? Sorry didn’t even begin to cover the tangled mess he’d made of things. 

The sound of your voice, pleading, coaxing him to open the door, tore at him. He could feel you there, so close, and it made everything hurt more sharply. Sihtric let out a shaky breath, feeling the first sting of tears pressing at the corners of his eyes, but he held them back, unwilling to let himself break down, even now.

“Why are you here?” he muttered under his breath, as much to himself as to you. His voice was rough, barely hiding the bitterness he felt, not even toward you but toward himself. “What good can come from this?”

He sat there, torn between the urge to stand up, unlock the door, and reach for you, and the dark, cynical voice in his mind that told him to stay hidden, that he didn’t deserve whatever you were here to offer.

And yet, through it all, he couldn’t help but listen, couldn’t ignore the hope in your words, the softness in your tone. He could almost feel you on the other side, feel the warmth you brought, a warmth he hadn’t felt in years. 

But that hope was terrifying. Because if he opened the door, if he let you in… The very idea of you seeing him like this—broken, regret-filled and barely holding it together—filled him with shame. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to do that. He probably wasn’t. 

Silence hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Sihtric’s breathing grew uneven, and for a moment, you wondered if he’d even heard you. Then, his voice cut through the quiet, rough and worn, tinged with a bitterness that struck you like a physical blow.

“I don’t need your sympathy,” he muttered, the words laced with frustration. “I don’t need anything from you. Just leave me alone—I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Sihtric,” you called softly, pressing your hand flat against the door. “Please… just open the door.”

When he didn’t respond, you clenched your fists and banged against the door, louder this time, not caring who heard. “Sihtric, I’m not going anywhere! You don’t have to shut me out. I know… I know what you did for me. I know why you left.”

There was a pause, so deep and tense you could hear the faint sounds from the street outside, muffled and distant. Finally, his voice broke the silence, barely audible, fragile. “Who told you that?”

You took a steadying breath, hoping he could hear the sincerity in your tone. “Finan and Osferth,” you replied. “They told me everything. How you thought leaving was best for me, how you made it look like you’d moved on just so I wouldn’t come back… how you suffered through it all because you thought it was the right thing.”

There was another pause, and then he laughed, a hollow, defeated sound that twisted painfully in your chest. “So, what?” he said, his voice wavering, barely holding steady. “You came here to pity me? To see what a mess I’ve made of myself?” He sounded tired, as if the words themselves were an effort. “I don’t need your pity either.”

For a moment, all you could hear was his unsteady breathing. You imagined him, standing just on the other side, close enough to touch if only he’d open the door. It was driving you mad—having him so close but so far away at the same time. You silently cursed yourself for turning him down, for refusing to listen when he had tried to talk to you before. Why had you been so cold? Why had you let fear take over?

But it wasn’t just your fear that had brought you to this moment. Gisela. The thought struck like a dagger, bitter and sharp. Why had she meddled? Why had she pushed Sihtric into making that choice without ever telling you? All those times she’d been there, comforting you, assuring you that moving on was the right thing to do—she had known. She had known the truth and had kept it from you. Why, Gisela? you thought bitterly, your hands balling into fists against the door. Why did you do this to me? To us?

You closed your eyes, pressing your forehead against the door, the whirlwind of emotions inside you felt unbearable, but amidst the chaos, a single thought began to crystallize with startling clarity. I’m not letting this go. Not this time. You had spent too long blaming others for what had happened—Sihtric, the universe, now Gisela. Too long nursing your pain, placing it on a pedestal like some kind of shield to justify not moving forward, not letting yourself feel again. But you couldn’t hide from the truth anymore. This wasn’t just pain or regret—this was love. It had never stopped being love, and it was time you faced it.

You straightened slightly, you weren’t going to let the past define what was left of your future. This was your chance, and you weren’t going to let fear or pride hold you back any longer. Sihtric deserved the truth, and so did you. He needed to hear it, to know that you still loved him—not the sanitized, half-forgotten version of love you’d pretended to bury, but the real thing. The kind of love that ached, that fought, that refused to let go.

And he needed to know the part you’d played in letting it all fall apart. The anger you’d clung to, the walls you’d built to protect yourself, all of it had driven you away from him when you should have stayed and fought, and you needed to own that. 

“I’m not giving up on this,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, though you hoped he could feel the determination in your voice. “Not this time, not again.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the door as your only support as you leaned against it. “Sihtric,” you began, your voice trembling, but there was no hesitation in your words. “Please, just listen to me. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Please, I’m begging you just hear me out. I’m here because… because I never stopped loving you.”

You could feel his breathing hitch on the other side, but he didn’t say anything, and you went on, needing him to hear everything.

“I wanted to hate you,” you confessed, your voice breaking slightly. “I tried. I thought that if I could just hate you, it would be easier. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t hate you, not really. Even when I tried to move on, to make a life without you… I couldn’t let go of you. No one else could replace what you mean to me.”

On the other side of the door, Sihtric let out a ragged breath, his hands covering his face. 

The weight of your own words took their toll, and slowly, your legs gave way. You slid down to the ground, sitting with your back pressed against the door, your head resting against the wood as you stared at the empty hallway in front of you. 

“When you wanted to talk to me that day at the shoot… I was so cold because I was scared, Sihtric,” you whispered, the confession falling from your lips before you could stop it. “I was afraid that if I let you in, even a little, I’d break. That all the walls I put up to protect myself would come crashing down.”

Sihtric listened, his face buried in his hands, feeling every word you spoke burning holes in his soul. He wanted to reach for you, to say something, but something kept him still, the knowledge of everything he’d put both of you through holding him back. His breath was shaky, his heart pounding as he imagined you there, only inches away.

“I tried to move on, Sihtric,” you continued. “I tried to make a life without you. I even tried to love someone else, to find what I had with you with someone new. But it didn’t work. No one… no one ever felt like you.”

Sihtric’s hands dropped from his face, and he pressed his palms flat against the door, his fingers splaying out as if they could reach you through the barrier between you as he felt his resolve breaking, his walls crumbling bit by bit.

“I thought letting you go was the best thing I could do for you,” he murmured. “I thought that if I hurt you enough, you’d decide to leave me behind… and you’d never look back. I wanted you to be successful and happy, even if it meant I couldn’t be.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you listened, your heart breaking all over again. “Don’t you see?” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “I was never happy without you. I kept telling myself that I could be, but deep down, I knew… I knew I’d never feel whole again.”

For a moment, the two of you sat there, separated by inches of wood and miles of unspoken feelings, both of you held captive by the same painful memories and buried longing.

“You don’t understand…” he continued, his voice breaking. “I’m not who I used to be. I’m not… I’m not enough for you, you need someone better. I don’t even know who I am anymore. You should be out there, living that life you’ve created and earned, not here… with someone like me.”

You swallowed hard, tears pooling in your eyes but refusing to fall. “I don’t need someone better, Sihtric. I need you,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “The real you, flaws and all. I can’t pretend anymore that everything’s fine without you in my life. I don’t care about perfect, Sihtric. I just… I just want you.”

The silence behind the door was deafening, stretching longer than you could bear. Your chest tightened, every second dragging on like an eternity. You strained to hear anything—a shuffle, a breath, even the slightest indication that he was still there—but there was nothing. The hollow quiet seeped into your heart, threatening to shatter it into a thousand pieces again.

Was this really the end? The thought weighed heavy, pressing against you until you couldn’t sit upright any longer. Slowly, you laid your head down on your knees, clutching them tightly as if to hold yourself together. You felt the sting of finality creeping in, the cruel certainty that you had done everything you could. It was time to stand up, to walk away, and this time, not look back.

But just as you started to gather the strength to rise, a faint, almost imperceptible sound reached your ears. A click. Your breath hitched as the unmistakable sound of the lock turning echoed softly through the silence.

You turned your head at the sound of the door creaking open, and there he was. Sihtric stood in the doorway. He looked exhausted, dark rings encircling his beautiful large eyes, face shadowed and tired. His hair was disheveled, and his shirt was rumpled, hanging loosely on his frame, but you didn’t care. All you could see was him, standing there, finally letting you in.

You jumped to your feet, propelled by a wave of relief and emotion, and lunged at him before you could think twice. The sudden movement caught him off guard, and the two of you stumbled backward into the apartment, the door swinging shut behind you. Your arms wrapped tightly around him, holding on as though he might disappear again if you let go. Tears streamed down your cheeks, soaking into his rumpled shirt as you buried your face against his broad, muscular chest.

For a moment, he stood frozen, his hands hovering uncertainly by his sides. Then, slowly, hesitantly, his arms came around you, pulling you closer. He let out a shuddering breath, the tension in his body giving way as he held you tightly, like he was afraid this was just another fleeting dream.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice muffled against him, trembling with emotion. “I’m so, so sorry, Sihtric. For shutting you out. For not fighting harder. For letting my anger win.”

His chest rose and fell beneath you as he struggled to steady his breathing. His voice was rough, as he finally spoke. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It was me… all of it. I pushed you away. I thought it was the only way.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. 

“I should’ve fought for us,” you said, your voice breaking. “I should’ve seen through it, through what you were doing. But I didn’t.”

His hand came up to cup your face, his touch tentative, almost disbelieving. “You couldn’t have known,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I made sure of that. I wanted you to move on, to be happy.”

“I wasn’t happy,” you said, shaking your head. “I could never be happy without you.”

He closed his eyes, his forehead resting against yours as a tear slid down his cheek. “I don’t know if I can fix this. If I can fix me.”

You reached up, your fingers tracing the stubble along his jaw as you steadied your voice. “You don’t have to fix anything. We’ll figure it out together. Just, please, don’t push me away again.”

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. He just held you, his hands trembling slightly as they clung to you. Then, he leaned in and his lips brushed yours in a soft, lingering kiss that carried the weight of everything he couldn’t say.

Sihtric's lips trembled against yours, as you pressed into him, your hands clutching harder the fabric of his shirt, silently telling him that you were here, that this was real. You kissed him back pouring all your emotions into that one single gentle touch of lips, getting more heated and desperate with each passing moment.

When he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, he began to press a trail of kisses across your cheeks, your forehead, the bridge of your nose. 

“I love you,” he murmured between kisses, his voice rough and low. “I’ve always loved you. Even when I tried to forget… when I tried to move on, I couldn’t.” His lips found yours again, more insistent this time, as though he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t hold back the flood of emotions he’d kept buried for so long.

“I tried to find someone else,” he admitted, his voice breaking as he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. His breath was warm and unsteady. “I thought I could replace what we had. But it was never the same. No one could ever be you.” His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, his grip firm but gentle. “I don’t want anyone else. I can’t. It’s always been you, and it will always be you.”

Without warning, he scooped you up into his strong arms, holding you effortlessly as though you weighed nothing. You gasped softly, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with something raw and unrestrained.

“I need you,” he said, his gaze locked on yours. “I need you in every part of my life. And right now… I need to show you how much I love you.”

You smiled through tears, you fingers tangling in his thick, disheveled hair. You pulled him closer and with a low almost desperate growl his lips captured yours again as he carried you further into the apartment.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

The soft hum of voices and the gentle clinking of glasses filled the air as you arrived at the exhibition, a feeling of anticipation settling in your chest. Gisela was waiting for you near the entrance, her ever-poised demeanor slightly off-kilter as she scanned the crowd. When her eyes landed on you, a flicker of something—relief? Concern?—crossed her face, and she hurried over.

“There you are,” she said, taking your hand as though to steady you. Her tone carried an edge of urgency, and you could tell she was gearing up to say something important. “I’m glad you came. But listen, before you go inside, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Her voice lowered conspiratorially as she leaned closer. “Sigtryggr… he’s here. And he brought someone. A girlfriend, apparently.” Her words were careful, but her gaze flickered with unease, clearly gauging your reaction.

You raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement rising in you. “That’s fine, Gisela,” you said, squeezing her hand lightly. “Sigtryggr and I… we weren’t meant to be. I’m happy for him.”

She blinked, slightly taken aback by your calm response, but pressed on. “Well, I thought you should know. But I also have someone I want you to meet.” Her voice brightened slightly, as though trying to distract you from the potential awkwardness waiting inside.

You tilted your head, an affectionate smile creeping onto your face. “Actually, Gisela, I have someone I want you to meet first.”

Before Gisela could respond, Sihtric stepped forward from behind you. He wasn’t dressed to blend into the crowd of sharply tailored suits and polished shoes that filled the gallery, yet somehow, he looked effortlessly striking. 

A dark, fitted leather jacket hung perfectly over his broad shoulders, paired with a simple, black t-shirt that clung to his lean, muscular frame. Fitted jeans and scuffed boots completed the look, adding a touch of ruggedness that made him stand out in all the right ways.

His dark hair was neatly tied back, but a few rogue strands fell across his sharp cheekbones, softening the intensity of his piercing eyes. He looked effortlessly cool, the kind of man who drew attention without even trying, and the subtle smirk on his lips only added to the effect.

Sihtric slipped his hand into yours, your fingers intertwining, and the look on Gisela’s face was priceless. She was frozen, her gaze locking on him as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her usual poise faltered, and for the first time, she seemed genuinely at a loss for words. Her eyes flicked between you and Sihtric, wide with shock, her mouth opening and closing slightly as though searching for something—anything—to say.

“Sihtric,” you said warmly, your voice filled with affection as you glanced up at him. He responded by slipping his arm around your waist, his hand resting at the small of your back.

Gisela finally found her voice, though it was a touch higher-pitched than usual. “I… didn’t realize…” she stammered, her gaze darting to you as if silently questioning how, when, and why this had happened.

You cut her off with a gentle but firm nudge to the side, brushing past her with a smile. “Gisela, we’ll catch up later. Right now, there are a few people we’d like to say hello to.”

Sihtric’s arms wrapped securely around you as you walked into the exhibition together, his warmth grounding you. You caught sight of Sigtryggr and Stiorra in the center of the gallery, standing close, their heads tilted toward each other as they shared a quiet laugh. Whatever lingering awkwardness might have existed between you and Sigtryggr seemed to dissolve as you approached, Sihtric at your side.

“Sigtryggr,” you greeted warmly, your smile genuine. “It’s good to see you.”

Sigtryggr turned, his expression flickering with brief surprise before softening into a polite smile. “And you,” he replied, his gaze briefly darting to Sihtric before settling back on you. “I see you’ve… moved on as well.”

“Seems like we’ve both found where we’re meant to be,” you replied, your tone light, though the weight of those words resonated deeply within you.

Stiorra raised her glass with a mischievous grin. “Well, well. Isn’t this a picture-perfect reunion?” she quipped, her tone teasing but kind.

Sihtric’s arm tightened around your waist as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “A reunion, maybe,” he murmured just for you, his voice warm and low. “But what matters is where we go from here.”

And as you stood there, surrounded by art, by people who had once been tangled in your past, you couldn’t help but smile as for the first time in a long while, the future felt beautifully, wonderfully yours.

[just-a-little-cellist]

Hey its me who asked for your The Unexpected Guest, and it was brilliant! I love the idea of part 2 it makes more sense!

I loved your idea of once they get to Rivendell Thorins and readers feelings are explored and some spicy stuff happens

Thank you, and love your work!☺️x

(I'm really glad you enjoyed it! I'm really sorry for the wait for part 2 - uni work, work work and writer's block are not a great combo and I didn't want to rush this (this part also got WAY longer than I thought it would), plus I've made some minor edits to part 1 since I wasn't totally happy with it - been a hot minute since I wrote smut so I hope this is ok :D thank you all for being so patient and I hope you enjoy!!)

(link for part 1 - warning for NSFW content below, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it))

ghivashel - treasure of all treasures, amralime - my love

An Unexpected Guest pt.2 (Thorin x AFAB!fem!human!reader)

The journey to Rivendell was taxing on all of you, though you couldn't help but feel most sorry for Bilbo. The hobbit was so new to adventuring - you doubted he had ever been out of the Shire before now - and you had decided to support him wherever you could as a helping hand. Just helping him set up camp, saddling his pony in the morning, offering him water, little gestures seemed to make a difference in his demeanor.

Spending time with the hobbit to keep his morale up, especially after the troll attack, did mean that it was getting harder to find a spare moment with Thorin. The two of you had spoken much more frequently since his confession, and you wished for more time, but the whole group was in poor spirits as it was. While they were all happy for you, public displays of affection were just likely to irritate everyone further. And Thorin's burden of leadership would likely not be eased while you were still on the road. For the moment, all you could do was keep moving and offer comfort to whoever needed it.

Needless to say, arriving at Rivendell was a weight off your shoulders. Even if the dwarves tried to pick a fight with Elrond.

You had all taken your time to settle in and relax, having taken full advantage of the elves' hospitality (and you were forever grateful for being able to feel clean after the long journey). When the group of you were provided with dinner and the inevitable food fight broke out, you were happy to see how everyone's spirits had been lifted. However, you couldn't help but notice your One stood to the side. There was a content smile on his face, but you could easily see the tension that still bristled through him.

You soon found him after everybody had retreated to their rooms for the night. It was hard not to hear him - the pacing in his room seemed to echo through the hallway, if only slightly. Raising your hand, you softly knocked at the door, hoping that he wouldn't be too stubborn to talk to you.

"Come in."

Even his tone of voice betrayed his stress. He visibly relaxed when you entered the room though, shutting the door behind you, and you felt glad to at least be some comfort.

You smiled in greeting, and spoke softly. "Will you tell me what's going on with you?"

"I assure you, I am fine. Do not trouble yourself."

You closed the distance between you hesitantly, giving him the chance to back away, and took his hands. "Please, Thorin. I can see something is troubling you."

"I am just... concerned. About the future of this quest, about everyone's safety." You saw a struggle in his mind of not wanting to be vulnerable, but he seemed to give in, and sighed in defeat. "I fear that people are going to be hurt because of me."

"Oh, my love..." you breathed, pressing your forehead to his. "You are the best leader any of us could ask for, and I promise you that you will not be the cause of any hurt."

He gently pulled back and looked into your eyes. "You truly believe that?"

"Of course I do. Those in this company are strong and intelligent. Perhaps with the exception of your nephews," you chuckled, and Thorin couldn't help but smile. "They are all capable of making their own decisions. They knew the risks of coming along, but they have all chosen to join anyway because they saw a courageous dwarf that they wanted to follow."

"I only want to do right by my people."

"And you will. We all have faith in you."

He pressed his forehead to yours again. "You're far too good to me, ghivashel," he murmured.

"All I want is for you to be happy, my love."

And with that, you tilted your head up and kissed him, your fingers tracing his cheekbones as you pulled him closer. It wasn't rushed and clumsy, as it was when Thorin first confessed, but slow and loving, every movement of your lips against his a confession of love in itself. His hands found their way to your waist and pulled you flush against him, trying to feel as much of you as possible.

When you separated to take a breath, meeting his lust-filled gaze was all the encouragement you needed.

"I wonder if there's any way I could relieve some of your stress..." Your tone was playful as you slid your hands achingly slowly down Thorin's chest, and you heard him inhale as you stopped just at his hips.

"Amralime, are you sure? If we start I will not want to hold back."

"I trust you, Thorin." You smiled and nodded towards the double bed. "And we may as well take advantage of the luxury while we have it."

He smirked. "I'm beginning to think you came here just to bed me."

"Hey, I would never-"

Your sarcastic reply was cut off by him kissing you again, with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before. Maybe you had awakened something long kept under control, but any coherent thought of that was soon lost when he shrugged the furs off his shoulders and his fingers found the hem of your shirt.

Soon becoming restless feeling him trace the curves of your waist, you broke away from the kiss just long enough to tug your shirt off. Thorin did the same, and after some hurried fumbling between more stolen kisses, you were both undressed. His hands never left your body as he backed you up towards the bed.

"You are so beautiful, ghivashel..." he murmured, lips trailing along your jawline and down your neck. It was so easy to get lost in the sensation, but when he tried to sit you down on the bed, you stopped him.

"Tonight is about you, my love." You turned the two of you around and gently pushed him back to sit down, taking the time to admire his toned body as you knelt in front of him.

Thorin's eyes were wide with surprise and he almost looked as if he wanted to protest, but the twitch of his already hard cock gave him away.

"You... you don't have to-"

"I want to." His breath hitched when your lips traced his thigh, and you smiled. "Relax, my king..."

Any further protest was soon lost when you leaned forward and licked a long stripe up his length, wrenching a gasp from his lips. Your movements were slow, mapping out every inch of him with kitten licks until he was writhing impatiently before you, until you were done teasing and sucked his tip into your mouth.

The room was filled with the sounds of breathy groans and muttered Khuzdul that you could barely focus on as you continued. Thorin twisted his fingers into your hair when you began taking him inch by inch into your mouth - his grip was firm, but never controlling - and when you started bobbing your head he was certain that he must've been dreaming.

Looking up at him and pressing your thighs together to suppress your own arousal, you watched his head tilt back in ecstasy every time you pressed your tongue flat against his tip when you rose. The sounds he made were so beautiful that it was becoming more and more difficult to control yourself. Fortunately, it seemed you wouldn't need to for much longer. You felt the tension in his body increase with every bob of your head, every swipe of your tongue, and as your movements grew faster you wrapped your hand around the base to stroke what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Yet, when you next looked up at him, he gently pushed you away, denying himself climax.

"Is everything alright, my love?"

He leant down for a brief kiss, still breathing heavily, and nodded. "That was... incredible." He took your hands and guided you to stand, then pulled you closer to straddle his lap.

"Then-" You inhaled sharply feeling his lips and teeth over your throat. "Then why didn't you let me finish?"

Thorin didn't answer for a moment, too busy creating a cluster of pink marks along your neck. When he was satisfied with his work, he tugged your hips down to press his hard length against you.

"Because I want to finish inside you, amralime."

You simply nodded, feeling too flustered and on edge to offer any sort of response beyond a whispered, "Please..."

Thorin stood up holding you, his lips continuing their assault on your neck, and carefully laid you down in the center of the bed. He slotted himself between your legs and wasted no time in moving to prepare you. Pausing to receive a nod of consent, he slid one thick finger into you, and you gasped at the sudden feeling. He soon added a second when you began rocking your hips against his hand impatiently, begging for more.

"Patience," he chuckled. "I do not want to hurt you."

"I don't care." You moaned breathlessly with every curl of his fingers. It felt like so much already, but still not enough. "I need you now, Thorin."

"Who would I be to deny my queen?"

He withdrew his fingers and you immediately pulled him forward to kiss you, a soft gasp being pulled from you when he ground his hips against you, ever so lightly pressing against your clit. Holding himself up over you with one hand, he used the other to guide his tip to your entrance and, swallowing your cries in the kiss, he slowly pushed into you.

His hand found yours and your fingers intertwined while he waited for any signs of your discomfort to fade. It was an uncomfortable stretch to fit his thick cock, but it soon became a welcome sensation, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to urge him on.

He moved carefully at first, until your cries of pain became cries of pleasure, and soon his hips snapped back against you much more firmly. Each thrust hit so deep inside of you, filling you up so perfectly, and his fingers gripped your hips almost tight enough to bruise. You clutched onto him tightly, trying to stay grounded amongst the sensations. One hand was buried in his hair, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, the other was digging into his back, leaving scratches that you were sure would last a few days at least. Though it didn't seem to bother him - every time you dug your nails into his back, it seemed to be encouragement, and he relentlessly kept up his pace. It was firm and deep, but never rough, though part of you wondered how hard he would go if you asked.

With each thrust, you bucked your hips to meet him, trying to get more friction to ignite the coil of heat growing in your core. Thorin's moans soon grew louder, despite him trying to remain as quiet as he could, and when his rhythm grew unsteady his fingers slipped down to circle your clit as his teeth latched onto your neck again.

"Ghivashel..." he murmured, his voice strained. "I'm so close..."

Your mind was spinning with pleasure, and you felt yourself reaching your peak as well. "I am too..." you panted.

His hips shifted just enough to hit a spot inside you to make you see stars, and along with the attention on your clit and your neck, it was enough to push you over the edge. Your grip on him tightened as the coil snapped and heat spread through your body, and you buried your face into the crook of his neck to muffle your cry of pleasure.

It seemed to last forever, and in your pleasure-filled haziness you registered Thorin also growing tense, and you heard his deep groan as he reached his climax and came inside of you. He felt so perfect, and you both stayed clinging onto each other, lost for breath, until you both came to.

Still catching his breath, he kissed your forehead and pulled out to lie next to you, and you couldn't help but whimper at the sudden emptiness.

He lay on his side, facing you, and brought your hand up to his lips. "You are so wonderful, amralime."

You smiled softly and shuffled closer, putting an arm over his waist and tucking your head under his. "So are you, my king."

You glanced back at the door to the room and chuckled.

"What is it?"

"Maybe we should lock the door next time."

[cardierreh15]

Variants

This is just part one of two! Enjoy ⚡️🐺

***I do not give anyone consent to copy, translate or repost my work!!!

Warnings 18+: Cursing , Angst , Mild Violence .

Pairings: Logan Howlett (Cavillrine) x Ororo Munroe also known as Storm ⚡️

Description: Ororo wakes up in another universe, she meets someone familiar…

Word Count: 4.8K

Song: Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen (but whatever your favorite version is)

Earth-811, Days of Future Present (my own twist) to Earth-199999

Side Note: Please keep in mind, this is not at all accurate and I am only writing something I thought up. Anything from how she got to this Earth from to her meeting Logan is not canon events.

Side, Side Note: Lyrics are in regular italics. Ororo's thoughts are in Italics Bold and OG Logan's voice is in orange italics.

Part One

Now I've heard there was a secret chord

That David played and it pleased the Lord

But you don't really care for music, do ya?

It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift

The baffled king composing "Hallelujah”

It was a beautiful day on Earth 199999. Not a cloud to be spotted. The birds chirped and there was even a cool breeze to combat the humid air that the season had brought in on its back. But all of that was about to change.

With the bat of an eye, dark heavy clouds rolled into the view of the sun. Blocking out any rays that were toasting up some skins and feeding flowers. Violent lightning bolts filled the sky and loud thunder shook the ground beneath the feet of man. Rain beat down like rocks and the wind blew so strong, it toppled cars and pulled trees from their roots.

In the middle of that chaos, was a woman who would change the entire timeline of this world. Though, she had no idea where she was or whether she was even alive. But she was what this world needed.

Falling unconscious from the thunderous clouds, she collapsed into the pacific. Engulfed and swallowed up by the merciless deep blue. One would think that was the end of this Storm Goddess. But fate and destiny were willing to bend the rules when it came to fulfilling their name.

Upon her contact, the impact of her landing had not only caused hurricanes but water spouts that could tear up an entire island and record breaking tsunamis. Countless lives had been lost upon her ascend.

Months had passed on by and the world was slowly healing from the detrimental damage that came with Ororo’s hard landing. Reporters and storm researchers tried to get to the bottom of what could’ve caused something like this to happen so simultaneously and without warning. The UN (United Nations) had already started on their own journey trying to get to the bottom of it; if it was mutant related and purposeful. As if they give a damn about that really. On her Earth, the United States were the reason why she was here in the first place.

Ororo was found caught in a fishing net in Vancouver. She was well preserved and oddly enough, still warm to the touch. Yet, still knocked into a deep coma that not even inhaling water could wake her from.

A man, not from this plain, had noticed that she wasn’t exactly human. And if the other fisherman had suspected her of being a mutant, they’d have her shipped off to a lab somewhere in the US after they collected their reward. So, he took her back to his home in Alberta, Canada. Far away from society and where he could be himself.

The stranger would come check on the brown sleeping beauty every once in a while. Everyday in the morning before he went to chop wood to aid her fireplace and then once before sunset. She looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly pin it. She was enigmatic! And the feeling of limerence grew the longer she stayed. The way her white finely twisted dreads lay splayed out beneath her head, her thick white brows and lashes. How the shade appeared to enhance her skin and feminine features. Even in her time of nadir, she took his breath away.

Almost like a forbidden kind of beauty. The one that came with a dark past.

Those days had turned into weeks and finally a month had passed since her arrival at the stranger’s residence.

Ororo’s eyes had flashed open, white as her hair as she inhaled so much air that instantly burned her lungs and choked her out.

Sitting up, she placed her hand over her chest before gripping the linens that she wore. She wheezed as salty tears streamed down her face as she fought to breathe. Her vision blurred, her head felt so heavy and it throbbed with an achy vengeance. The words of her lover repeated in her ears.

I love you, Ororo. You don’t have to come back for me. If you find a perfect world, stay there.

She coached herself to steady her breathing as her snowy eyes had faded into something more human. Brown as the Earth’s soil. Ororo hiccuped as her awareness finally hit her like a ton of bricks. She scanned the bedroom for anything to tell her where she was. Or at least, which part of the Multiverse she had landed in.

Pulling herself from the warmth of the heavy comforters, she felt as if she’d been only asleep for a day. Her limbs and balance worked as they did when she was fleeing from the Sentinels. Though, it came with only a little bit of soreness. That was from the battering of the waves.

She whimpered as she rotated her arm to aid the soreness there. ‘Aah. Where the hell am I?’ The bedroom was a piece of paragonal work. Lots of natural light that was let in by 3 large arched windows and a large skylight window that made stargazing comfortable when night came. 

The furniture was vintage; carved out of mahogany and donned with gold handles and knobs. All of the furniture was dusted clean, the mirror at the vanity didn’t see a speck or smudge. A telltale sign that someone had been in here to visit her quite frequently.

With the bedroom’s cleanliness, came no clues of where she was. Ororo began to rummage and search through the dresser drawers and the nightstand. 

Breathing heavily as she felt herself growing anxious with tears filling her eyes, she felt herself falling apart. 

Don’t come back for me. 

Logan please.

I mean it, thundercloud. If you find a perfect world, stay there. 

‘Ooh! Fuck you, Logan!’ She exclaimed through gritted teeth as tears fell from her eyes. ‘Fuck you! Fuck you!’ She exclaimed as she slammed her fists into the mahogany wood that cracked beneath her strength. 

A loud thunder crack echoed outside, with a bolt hitting right outside her bedroom window.

Tiny bolts of lightning danced around her fists as she brought them up before opening her palms. The tiny bolts flickered before vanishing completely and a tear fell in their place. 

Wiping her snotty nose with her sleeve, she took a deep breath and wiped her tears with her free wrist. How was she going to make it without him?

The sound of 80’s rock and roll brought her out of her misery. The same kind of music they’d listen to together on his motorcycle when times were much simpler. She used to peel the clouds out of the sky or simply push them over the next city so they could go riding. 

The smell of his cigar smoke mended into his brown leather jacket. The way his thick dark hair used to fluff about in the wind and how he used to risk their lives by rubbing her arm when she held him tight.

Good times.

Ororo rushed towards the large wooden door and tugged it open with its golden knob. She was met with fresh air when she rushed outside. The sound of the music was no longer muffled by the thickness of those wooden walls. Yet it did echo and bounce off of trees in the surrounding area.

Quickly making her way down the wooden steps, she founded the calls and howls of the infamous Axel Rose. It didn't take her long to find the host; just a cut around the cabin and she was standing in front of it. Catacorner from it was a makeshift garage. Old broken down cars, motorcycles, and tires lie scattered about.

This looked just like Logan’s garage. A mess and unkept.

She felt as if this was all some kind of fever dream. 

Inclined to meet the person who saved her, Ororo began to journey forward until she came across a mature and very large Fir tree that sported claw marks. She walked towards it as the fast music became a blur in her ears. She ran her finger tips over the marks. 

9 claw marks but in threes. She knew only one person who could pull this off. 

‘Oh my god— JAMES!’ Her heart fluttered like crazy as she sped walked to the garage and pushed the doors open. ‘JAMES!’

There he stood, back turned as he worked on his bike. He wore his classic white wife beater, denim jeans and brown boots. His skin was covered in a thin sheet of sweat as he squeezed the clutch of his bike. She was sure that he couldn’t hear her over the shouting of Guns N Roses and the purr of his motorcycle, so she reached her hand up towards one of the hanging lamps and shot a lightning bolt at it. 

A gleaming smile curled up on her lips with a twinkle in her eye.

That caught his attention, causing him to stand up straight.

There was a long pause before the individual reached over and turned down the old school radio that sat on the toolbox. 

‘You know it’s been a long time since someone called me that.’

His voice… He didn’t sound like the Logan she knew and loved. Though from this angle, he was the spitting image. Her smile remained. ‘Wh-what do you mean we—‘

The male finally turned around to face her. But the cloud of smoke from the cigar that he puffed on, made him impossible to make out.

She used to hate the smell, now she lived for it. Craved it.

‘You still smoke those-‘

Stepping through the cloud, the individual revealed himself. 

His hair was curly thick, styled up to resemble ears as if he were a puppy. The same way her James used to style his hair. He even sported that very same beard cut with the center of his chin shaved and his jaws furry. 

His eyes were bright blue unlike the original Logan’s, comforting brown.

Her smile faltered as she placed a hand on her stomach and took a step back.

‘Hmm.’ The man grumbled as he reached behind him and scooped up a white dirty hand towel to wipe his hands. He held his lit cigar in his jaw before taking it out with his clean fingers.

Ororo stood there, her eyes wide in shock and confusion. Her mouth opened to ask a question but the words just wouldn’t come out!

‘I didn’t think you’d ever wake up. You seem to be walking well.’

He was the one that saved her.

‘H-‘ she swallowed, ‘How long was I out?’

Tossing the dirty cloth on the toolbox, he placed the cigar back between his lips and inhaled greatly. And when he exhaled, another large cloud of smoke shrouded the garage.

‘Well,’ he grumbled, ‘You’ve been here for about a month. I uh— suspect you have no idea what’s going on… do you?’

A month? There’s no way I have been here for a month! I stepped in that portal yesterday! 

Ororo placed her hand on her neck as she felt her blood pressure begin to spike. Her body began to gently rock side to side as her stomach twisted and turned.

‘Wh-where did you find me a-and where am I?’

‘You’re in Alberta…’

Her eyes grew, ‘CANADA?!’

‘Some fishermen in Vancouver found you sleeping in a net with some salmon.’ 

She brought her fingers up to her temples and began to rub that spot when her head began to throb. 

And right on cue, thunder roared outside. 

Logan looked up at the roof as rain drizzled and created a song atop the metal. Then he looked back at her. She appeared to be fighting a migraine. And the more she fought, the heavier the drizzle became.

Then it clicked.

‘You alright over there? Need some pain meds?’ He mumbled with his cigar in his mouth.

‘Mmph! It’s okay just—.’

‘Uh-huh. Y’know, there’s been some dangerous storms going on. Tsunamis, Hurricanes, typhoons, the whole nine.’

‘Mmm.’ Ororo grimaced at the pain, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she clenched her jaw together. ‘How long have I been asleep?’

‘I don’t know. But, the storms started about 4 months ago.’ 

I’ve been here for four months?! Oh my god.

‘I think I’m gonna be sick.’ Ororo whimpered as her vision blurred once again from tears. Her chest began to heave and her heart thudded hard in her chest.

‘Oh, whatever you do just—‘

Barf. Clear bubbly flim mixed with yellow bile splattered on the smooth concrete. 

‘Take that… outside. Aw shit.’

The woman collapsed to her hands and knees as he rushed over to her aid. She choked as her insides forced and fought to be on the outside. The taste of the raw acid burned at her esophagus and mouth. The rancid taste only made her gag more. 

‘Hey, it’s okay.’

It’s okay, Storm. If we’re meant to be… we’ll be.

Her eyes turned white with tiny bolts dancing around them, heaving harder as she stared at the disgusting vomit.

‘You have to look away! Look at me!’ 

As soon as Logan snatched up her hands, lightning zapped him to hell. 

Fortunately nothing that’ll kill him, but it stung like shit. ‘Aah!’ He hissed as he snatched his hands away, fanning them painfully. ‘Fuck!’

You’re my strong girl.

Ororo shut her eyes tightly as the heaving turned into a sob. ‘I can’t do this without you…’

The drizzle had turned into a heavy pitter patter. Thunder roared outside, causing the tin can of a garage to rattle. 

Logan’s brows tugged into one as the burning tingling began to fade into his hand. He watched as the woman crumbled into herself. 

This wasn’t tears of fear or confusion. But of mourning and grief. He could practically smell the pain exuding off of her. Logan knew what it felt like to lose someone. To be completely lost in a world that didn’t accept who he was. To be alone. 

Reaching out to her, tiny lightning bolts reached out to embrace his fingertips as if they were familiarized with his energy or aura. 

They didn’t burn him this time, just tiny manageable pinches. He placed his palm on her back and sighed softly.

If we’re meant to be…

His mouth parted to say something, afraid to say the wrong thing. 

Ororo blinked her eyes open before looking over at him. 

He was almost the exact same replica of her James. That same mean scowl that she adored greatly.

‘You’ve got blue eyes.’ She said in a hushed tone as she stared into his eyes.

‘You’re very observant.’ Logan said sarcastically with a small chuckle leaving his lips. ‘What is it that they call you?’

My Stormsy. Hey there, my lil’ thundercloud. Hang on lightning bolt! Stormy. 

‘Oro—‘ she sniffed, ‘Forgive me but, I don’t think you’d be able to say my name, white boy.’ She scoffed.

Logan raised his brow, ‘Oh yeah? Try me.’

She tried to muffle her giggle but it fell through, ‘Ororo.’

His brows rose and he blinked hard once.

‘Oro—OK, do you have a nickname?!’

Ororo’s small smile from her giggle had turned into a charming grin as laughter escaped her, ‘Yeah,’ she sighed softly. He was just like him. From his facial expressions to how effortlessly hilarious he was. She was comfortable near him.

‘Storm. Just call me Storm.’

‘Now that sounds… do-able.’ His smirk curled up into a small smile before he felt a raindrop fall upon his shoulder. They both looked up at the ceiling. Another fell on his forehead.

‘Well, that would explain the weather.’ Then wiped his head free of the water and looked back over at her, then it clicked. He was a terrible host.

Her white eyes began to fade into her brown ones.

Glancing down at the barf, he then glanced back at her, ‘You must be starving.’

‘No, no. It’s OK, I’ve been too much trouble already just—‘

‘No, I insist. You haven’t ate—‘

Wrrrrr. Ororo slapped her hand against her stomach as it sang its hunger song, as if she could shut it up like a finger to a set of lips. She snatched her eyes away from his gaze and shut them in defeat.

‘Mmm. I thought so. Alright, up, up, up.’ He took his large hands and helped her to her feet. ’

Rolling her eyes at his condescending tone, she pushed herself up to her feet with his help.

‘Ya alright?’ He asked as he slowly pulled his hands away.

‘Yeah,’ The electricity vanished once again within her, ‘Thank you.’

‘Mmm,’ his head fell to the side, ‘Don’t mention it. Look, I’m gonna get this cleaned up—‘ 

‘James, please—‘ she paused. 

He looked down at her for a long moment. ‘You’re the only one who can get away with calling me that.’ Turning away from her he walked towards the far corner of the garage. 

Ororo let out a sigh and placed her hands on her hips. Were they all the same in every universe? Hardheaded and guileless. Arguments were always challenging with him. 

‘You don’t have to clean up after me, I'm not some kind of damsel in distress.’

‘Well,’ he scoffed as he picked up a bucket and a mop, ‘You were just kind of sleeping beauty for ‘bouta month. I’d say you’re pretty damn close enough. Oh, and— Aurora… mind easing up on the rain until we get the food here?’ 

Her mouth fell before she stammered over her words. ‘We—I—‘

Wait a minute did he just call me beautiful? Damn, they are just alike. 

And he left her inside of the garage to retrieve water for the bucket.

***

Ororo did not in fact keep the rain in check. Instead, when she went back into the cabin she found herself missing James more and more. But, how could she miss him when he was right outside? 

Oh, she was so confused. Stuck in a whirlwind of emotions. But she had to count her blessings. Who knows what would’ve happened if he didn’t find her. She could’ve been poked and pried at beneath wandering eyes. Chopped up in itsy bitsy pieces and thrown in a particle accelerator to be sold to the highest bidder.

At least that was more humane than the chaos that ensued on her world. 

A knock echoed in her bedroom and the sound of the knob twisting followed.

Ororo was bent over the vanity, checking for any oddities that the portal could’ve left her with. So far, so good. The door creaked open and she turned torso to the side.

‘Hey—whoa—‘

With her voluptuous rump in view, she rested her chin on her fist, ‘Your mama ever taught you to knock? What if I was naked?!’

‘Well for one, I did knock. And my mama, didn’t exactly raise a gentleman if you want me to be honest. Come, I’ve got Chinese.’ 

***

The pair sat in silence as they indulged on their take out. Ororo did her best not to inhale all of it so she ate slowly.

Logan chuckled, ‘That’s cute!’ 

Shit, he was on to her.

‘Mmm? What?’ She grumbled as she placed her hand over her lips so that she wasn’t spitting out food.

‘Oh nothing. It’s just you’re trying so hard not to kill all of your food. Eat! Trust me, you definitely need it more than I do.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ She said as she stifled her giggle and took another bite out of her food. 

‘Right.’ He snickered and took a sip of his beer. 

The dining room grew quiet once again, soft thunder filled the silent void between them. Not necessarily on purpose but she was studying him. They were eating sweet n sour pork. 

James hated pork. He hated the smell, the salty-ness, the texture and the tummy ache and headache that it gave him after it all. She remembers having to cave in to buying turkey bacon. 

The things you do for love. The sacrifices you make.

James was also right handed. Everything he did started with his right side and eventually the left would aid it. Not that the left was as strong as the right, but when it came to swinging his claws, it always got the job done.

This Logan was an ambidextrous individual. Using both of his hands to work into his food without looking funny. It was so natural.

‘I can feel you burning a hole in my face.’ He murmured as his bright blue hues remained glued to his plate.

It was then when she finally blinked, ‘sorry you just— you just remind me of someone I—‘ she paused as her head fell into her lap.

Logan’s eyes flickered up at her for a second, reading her like a book. ‘Boyfriend?’

She remained quiet.

‘Yeah, I know that look. Sported it a few times myself. Would you like to talk about it?’

Oh she wouldn’t even know where to begin. Should she start with Mystique mercilessly murdering Senator Robert Kelly? Or how her blood contributed to the industrial process of the Sentinels that killed mutants or threw them into concentration camps? How this Logan sitting in front of her could be one of hundreds and maybe thousands of variants of her dead lover?

That was a lot to take in. He wouldn’t even believe her.

‘I—Honestly, I wouldn't even know where to start.’

‘I’ve got nothing but time.’

You take up all my time, Lightning Bolt. A punishment when I have to leave but a reward when I come back home to you. 

Inhaling deeply through her nose, she let out a gentle breath. ‘I’m —‘ Ororo tried to process it herself. If she hadn’t lived it, it wouldn’t have even made sense to her either. 

‘This is going to sound crazy.’ 

‘Trust me, I’ve seen and heard crazy. There’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t already heard.’ 

He mustn’t be so sure.

Even that little comment was something James would’ve said. Verbatim. 

‘Alright.’ She sat up straight and let out another breath of air, ‘I’m not from… here.’

Logan sat quietly. She had his full and undivided attention.

‘I’m not from… here.’ She repeated.

‘Oookaaaay, I think I got that the first time.’ He sighed and folded his arms together. ‘What do you mean?’

Damn it was a lot harder to say than she thought. Perhaps she try a different approach. She would talk about… him.

‘My boyfriend… he uh— he was one of a kind. Smart, goofy, sweet… he was everything I dreamed of. He uh— and his brother had it rough. His family was well off… and in most cases the mother and father weren’t around much thus, was raised by their nanny. One night, some man comes into their home and kills their father. It was then when he discovered his powers. He grew—‘ 

Ororo glanced down at Logan’s fist as his fingers tapped against the table cloth. 

‘Claws.’ Her gaze rose to his once again. ‘He stabbed the man in hopes of getting to avenge his father… but it was then revealed to him that the stranger was in fact he and his brother’s biological father.’

Logan stared at her in complete horror. But he remained calm.

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on the roof

Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew ya

She tied you to a kitchen chair

She broke your throne and she cut your hair

And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah.

‘What then?’ He asked before picking up his beer once again. 

‘He and his big brother ran away. Fought in World War II. Years later he met me at Xavier’s School of Gifted—‘

‘Youngsters.’

‘Youngsters.’ She repeated slowly. 

He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head, ‘How do you— How do you know all of that?!’

Swallowing her spit, Ororo pressed her lips together, ‘I know — so much more, Logan.’

‘So what, do you read minds like Charles?!’ His voice was a little bit more stern than before.

‘Ja-Logan, it’s not like that! I—I come from a different timeline!’

His eyes grew in disbelief and he raised his hands, ‘Alright. That’s enough sweet n sour pork for you. Now you’re just talking out of your ass.’ He reached over to grab her container but she grabbed his wrist tightly. It was heavy. Just as she thought.

‘Has it ever occurred to you why or how a complete stranger would know your name?!’ 

‘Maybe you’ve been looking at my mail?!’

‘Your name is James Howlett! You had a brother named Liev, also named as Sabertooth—‘

‘What?!’ He chuckled.

‘You were born 1882! Here in Alberta, Canada.’

‘These are all things you can look up on google sweetheart.’ He said as he gently pulled his fist away.

‘That would make sense if I could use google in my sleep!’ She bit back. She watched as he pulled her styrofoam container away. ‘And I don’t think you added your Adamantium skeleton to the census.’

I did my best, it wasn't much

I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch

I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool ya

And even though it all went wrong

I'll stand before the lord of song

With nothing on my tongue but hallelujah

He stared at her for a moment before swallowing hard.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about? That metal doesn’t even exist.’ He added as he carried off their take out to the kitchen.

Now, she was annoyed. She folded her arms across her chest and slouched back against the wooden chair with her full lips in a slight pout. That was until she realized what he said.

‘Wait—‘ she quickly stood to her feet and walked into the kitchen, ‘I never said anything about Adamantium being metal!’ 

Logan opened the refrigerator to place the containers inside, ‘You didn’t? Well, it sounds like it would be metal. The “Tium” at the end of it adds the razzle dazzle.’ 

Ororo was growing irritated with his banter. So she snatched the refrigerator door handle and slammed it, not caring much if the food was in there properly. Her backside was pressed firmly against the cool stainless steel.

‘Hey!’ He glared at her.

‘You asked me if I wanted to talk about it and I AM—‘

‘I didn’t ask you for a damn biography on my life!’

Her head fell to the side before looking down at his fists. 

‘Show me.’

Logan stepped back, his thick brows tugging into one. ‘Show you what? There’s nothing to show you!’ 

‘I want to see them! Show me!’ 

‘Lady, you’re really losing it right now.’

‘I WANT TO SEE THEM— NOW!’ She exclaimed as her eyes glowed white with lightning and she raised her hand to cast a lightning bolt at his chest. 

The white electricity sent him flying back against the wall, leaving a large cave in, in its place. He fell to his hands and knees as he groaned and howled in pain. White lightning bolts danced and trickled around his torso, arms and neck. ‘GUH—AAUURGH!’ 

She hadn’t realized what she’d done until it was too late. ‘Oh my god! James!’ Ororo rushed over to him but stopped in her tracks when she heard the unsheathing of his blades. 

She blinked away her glowing eyes as he painfully pulled himself up to his feet. Bubbles of saliva dripped from between his teeth. At his sides were those infamous Adamantium claws. They were beautiful. 

She glanced up at him in caution as she began to slowly approach him. 

Logan growled, taking a step back as he breathed heavily through the pain. 

‘James please, I’m sorry! I know all of this sounds crazy ok? You have to believe me.’

‘B-believe y-you?! Hell, I d-don’t even know you!’ He sputtered through the pain.

The words pained her, ‘I-I deserve that. But I know you.’ She finally walked to him and reached out to wrap her small hand around his fist. Logan turned his head away from her.

Maybe there's a God above,

but all I've ever learned from love,

was how to shoot at someone who out drew you.

And its not the cry you hear tonight,

its not somebody who's seen the light.

‘In a different time— you loved me. And looking at you now…’ she placed her hand against his jaw and turned his gaze back towards her, ‘Means that I have a second chance. Think about it, you went all the way to Vancouver … you had no idea I was there but you came there for me.’

Logan stared down at her, his heaving panting began to slowly return to normal.

‘I know that you hate New Age music, I know that your hobbies include choking down cigars and chopping wood. I know that you love riding your bike on sunny days in the mountains! I know that you dreamed of living in a small cabin like this one.’ Her voice cracked as she did her best to fight back her heartbreak. He never got to see the life he deserved.

It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.

‘I know that you’ve moved far away to keep from hurting others. I was there, Logan.’

Ororo’s words were almost inaudible; being choked up with tears, she stared up into his eyes as she fought hard not to cry again. 

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

Sheathing his blades back into the safety of his knuckles, he reached up to grab her fist gently into his large hand. 

‘How much did you love me—him?’

‘Oh James…’ her eyes fluttered as a thick warm tear fell down her cheek. ‘With all of my being…’

Those words ached him a little as if he knew that she did, as if he witnessed her love for him. He’d fallen in love many times. But they never amounted to anything in the end. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

Maybe—

If we’re meant to be— we’ll be.

Ororo burst into a gut wrenching sob before Logan brought her into his strong, heavy arms. He rested his cheek atop her head as she soaked his filthy wife beater. 

Hallelujah. 

[nikkisheep]

To Be Alone With You (Part Two)

Anthony Bridgerton x Sharma!reader

Series Summary: Let's see, dear readers, where this journey of betrayal, lust, passion, and love take our viscount and Miss Sharma as they find their ways back to each other.

Warnings: Angst, kinda betrayal, guilty reader, proposal, sexual tension, reader stumbles upon Edmund Bridgerton's grave, Smut (oral F)

Summary: After the night of passion that was of you and the Viscount on the dock, Anthony is hit with the realization that he still planned on marrying Edwina.

Tag list: @faatxma

"I dare ask, Brother, what has gotten you to smile so much this fine morning?" Colin asked with a smirk gracing his face.

"I just happen to be in a good mood from the lovely night of sleep that I received last night." Anthony said with yet another smile.

"Could it be that our brother is actually in love with Miss Edwina now?" Benedict teased.

Anthony looked at Benedict and his smile faded at the mention of Edwina. She is a kind girl, just not who Anthony wants. At this, the Sharma sisters hurdle down the stairs in a fit of laughter as you were carrying a bucket of water and chasing your sisters down the stairs in hopes of soaking them. Instead, you slipped on your dress and Anthony raced to catch you before you had hit the floor. The other siblings including Anthony's watched as you let go of the bucket as it soars through the air and you land in Anthony's strong arms. You look at him and go to speak but the water bucket comes crashing down on the two of you, soaking you both completely. The bucket landed on Anthony's head and all you heard was a groan.

"My lord," You say as you shyfully lift the bucket off his head and his dark eyes peek under and make eye contact with you. His hair was ruined and your lady's maids were going to be upset that their hard work went to nothing because of how wet your hair was. You give him a light smile and just as you were getting one in return, Colin cleared his throat.

"Well, Miss Sharma, I am quite impressed with your entrances that you have been making." He smiled.

"I do try," You smile and give a bit of a bow.

"Please, Lord Bridgerton, do not think that we are always like this," Kate tried to reason, hoping that he wasn't mad.

"Miss Kate, you are quite fine. Nothing to worry about. I actually enjoyed the refreshing shower," Anthony laughed, a smile reaching his eyes when he looked at you rather than your sisters. His intended.

----

Another walk in the gardens, you take in the flowers. You didn't realize how long you were in the garden and where the path was taking you. You walk under a large tree and see something that looks like a headstone. You look around and then continue on your walk to the headstone.

"Edmund Bridgerton, Loving Father and Husband," You read on the stone and figured that this had to the man that Anthony always looked up to. This was his father.

You looked down at the flowers in your hands and then bent down to your knees and placed the flowers at the grave site. You were in the middle of a prayer when you heard footsteps. You stand up quickly and then turn to the sound. It was Lady Bridgerton.

"Viscountess-" you started. She lifted a hand to shush you.

"Please call me Violet, dear." She smiled sadly when she looked at the grave.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know and I-I-I wanted to pay my respects to him," You say with a smile.

"This is Edmund. He is my husband. Well, was my husband," The older woman smiled with a sad smile.

"You loved him very much. I can tell. I wish I could have met him," You try to make her feel better.

"Have I told you yet about how much Anthony looks after this family?" She asked.

You shook your head.

"He has been there for all of us after Edmund passed. He was only 18 at the time. God, the stress that fell onto that poor boy. He was holding Edmund when he died and...and I think that was the day that my little boy died. When Edmund left, so did a piece of my son." She said with tears.

"Why are you telling me this?" You ask kindly. You thought she would be telling Edwina.

"Miss Sharma, when Anthony says that he is going to do something, he does it. He says he is going to marry your sister so I wanted you to know that she is in good hands. Anthony is the best of my sons to marry her because there is nothing more important to Anthony than his word." Violet said, taking your hand.

"Violet, he loves her?" You ask with a tremble in your voice.

"I fear so and I have seen the way you look at my son." You looked up with confusion.

"Viscountess...Violet, I'm not understanding what you are talking about. I don't look at Anthony in any way."

"I saw you in the hallway earlier today," She said with a sad smile.

"Tha....That was an accident." You sputter out.

"Darling, I'm not talking about your situation or position. I'm talking about the look in your eyes. It's exactly how I used to look at Edmund." She pat your hand and then stood up to invite you back to the house. You followed her with your heart heavy and mind clouded.

---

Dinner was prepared and you were seated to the left from Anthony who was seated at the head of the table. You couldn't keep a smile when you looked at him because you saw how your sister looked at him. Like he hung the stars in the sky. Your stomach hurt with guilt of what had transpired between you last night.

"And Miss Sharma, I was wondering if you would like to maybe be a model for my paintings," Benedict said with a hopeful look in his eyes.

You smiled at the brother and nod.

"Of course, I have always wanted to be a model and to have my face and body drawn for me," You laugh a little and Benedict smiled and then blushed at you.

Kate smirked at you as she watched you interact with Benedict. You finished your drink and stood up. You turned to leave and kissed Benedict on the cheek. You smile at Violet and she smiled back. You left the room and that made Anthony fuming. Yes, he was supposed to marry your sister but he didn't want her. He wanted you.

Anthony excused himself from the table to follow you. He ran after you and he grabbed your elbow to keep you from going all the way up the stairs.

"Follow me," He said, pulling you down the stairs to his office and closing the door behind you.

"Yes, my lord?" You ask.

"I have been looking for you all day. God...being away from you has been driving me crazy," He says before moving to kiss your shoulder that was exposed. Your head falls back in bliss as you feel his lips ghost your sensitive skin that has only been touched by him.

"My lord-"

"Anthony, darling."

"But my lord, we need to stop." You moan out the last part when he sucks hard on your sweet spot.

"Call me by my name, Miss Sharma. My name is Anthony," He growls into your ear before picking you up and laying you down on his desk, papers sticking to your sweat-layered back.

You look down to see Anthony move under your dress. You start pulling the fabric over your stomach so that you could see his hair and you smile when he kissed your hand that was pulling at the fabric.

"My lord, we should stop. You are to be...married." Your back arched as his tongue made contact to your secret area that he was just last night and you moaned out his name as he ate you like a starved man. He dipped his tongue inside of you and your hand shoots to his hair and pulls harshly and he moans against your body.

"Anthony, oh god.'' You cry out as his finger starts to poke at your entrance and you were overcome by pleasure to even think about Edwina or Kate or what the mother of the man in between your gracious legs had said when her son is tasting you like this.

"Fuck, sweet girl. You taste divine," He groans against your pussy as he pumps in a finger before adding another. Your walls clamped tightly to his fingers and his mouth moved to your clit and starts to suck at it as his tongue flicks out to run over the sensitive bud there.

You reach up and grab a hold of your own breast as he ravages you in the best way. He starts curling his fingers to hook at that sweet, sweet pleasurable spot that laid deep inside you and you felt the coil in your stomach start to tighten to a painful blissful way as he looks up at you with deep, dark eyes that were blown with lust and you let go just at his stare alone.

"Cum for me, let me feel you. That's it. Be a good girl and let go for me. Let me taste you," He moans against you as he feels you gush around his fingers and onto his awaiting tongue. He drinks everything you have to offer until you have to push him away due to the over stimulation that happens due to his constant assault to your sensitive nerves.

He kisses up your body again and fixes your dress. You lean into his kisses and he whispers about how much he loves you before he helps clean you up. You hold onto him and he carefully takes you back to your room. You sigh because you know that you have to tell him that you couldn't keep doing this because he wants to marry your sister.

"My lord," You start.

"Anthony," He says.

"My lord," You try to continue.

"Why won't you call me Anthony unless we are private like we just were?" He said with a sad look in his eyes.

"Because you are not mine, my lord." You sigh before closing the door in his face.

---

The following day, you were walking with your family as everyone was ready to leave and head back to London. You were sad but as soon as you saw Anthony walking to you, a smile crossed your face.

"My lord," You give a bow.

"Miss Sharma," You think he was talking to you but when you turn to his voice again, he was on one knee in front of your sister.

"Miss Edwina, I think this has been a long time coming and I would love to have the honor of making you my wife," Anthony said before you let out a gasp as he opened the ring box. It was his mother's. Edmund had given it to her and now he was giving it to Edwina.

Edwina gave a yes and kissed Anthony's cheek. Not knowing that his face was just between your legs last night and the night before. She will never know and you would sit in silence. You watched the happy couple and Kate hug them both and your mother was so happy. You smile to the couple and make eye contact with Anthony. All was said in those few seconds.

"I still want you."

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Dog Days

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: Request for @ross-ayase Thank you for your patience! It’s longer than I wanted it to be, but I also feel like it goes too fast over some parts. I hope you still enjoy it. There also may be more errors than usual because I’m too tired to edit right now, but I promise I’ll give it a closer look at a later date. Word Count: 6,523

Shinobu took one look at who had arrived before her to the Master’s mansion and suppressed the urge to groan as she gracefully knelt upon the vacant cushion beside her.

“Kochou!” The Hashira beside her grinned, “I was hoping you would be literally anyone else!”

“Likewise.” Shinobu replied, facing forward, same smile as always adorning her face.

The rivalry between Shinobu and (Y/n) had started all the way back when they were first training to become demon slayers. Something that still hasn’t changed at all even after all of these years later, finding themselves both at the highest rank a slayer could be bestowed with. At least the days when they used to brawl at the drop of a hat were over. Shinobu claimed she was much too mature to stoop to that level, (Y/n)’s level, anymore. Although she was usually the one to start any physical altercations in the past… but make no mistake, though their quarrels were less explosive, the way they spoke to each other could be like a fist fight all on its own.

Although they seemed to speak to each other in pleasant tones, if someone took the time to actually listen to what they were saying, they would turn tail and run as fast as they could to not get caught in the crossfire.

There was no time for them to really dig into each other this morning, as Kagaya arrived on Amane’s arm not long after Shinobu’s arrival and as much as the pair loved to bicker and attempt to one-up each other, they would never dare do so in front of the Master.

“(Y/n), Shinobu, thank you both for joining me this morning.” The Master spoke warmly, once his wife eased him down.

“Good morning, Oyakata-sama. We’re happy to be of service.” (Y/n) and Shinobu spoke in near perfect unison, both subtly glaring at the other as they bowed reverently.

The Master chuckled quietly. “You two are almost always in sync after being friends for so long. That is why I know you two will be perfect for this mission.”

Shinobu’s smile tightened and (Y/n)’s eye twitched slightly.

“This mission will be a very… odd one to say the least, but as long as you watch out for each other, I don’t think it will be a particularly difficult assignment, but I believe the fine tuned skills of a couple Hashira will sort out the trouble our lower ranks have been having in this area. I am asking you, (Y/n), Shinobu, to investigate the sudden disappearances of our slayers and destroy whatever demon or demons are responsible.”

***

“Are we there yet?” (Y/n) asked with a smirk, walking beside Shinobu down the rugged road.

“You know that we are not.” Shinobu sighed, doing her best to let the words drip off of her like water off a duck’s back. “Now if you could refrain from asking for the twelfth time in half an hour, it would be much appreciated. As far as I’m concerned the mission had already begun, so can you take this seriously please?”

An amused scoff left (Y/n)’s lips. ��My name is Shinobu~ I’m a proper young lady now~ blah blah blah.” She poked Shinobu’s back with each consecutive ‘blah’.

“And my name is (Y/n), an insufferable girl who has failed at showing decorum since the day she was born~” Shinobu mimicked back, smacking (Y/n)’s hand away from her with a karate-chop-esque strike.

“I’m just poking fun at you, lighten up.” (Y/n) rubbed her hand. “You poke at Tomioka all the time.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it? What, you have a crush on him or something?”

Shinobu side-eyed (Y/n) before facing the road in front of them again, still walking ever closer to their destination. (Y/n) frowned at Shinobu’s silence and looked away, fists clenched. They were quiet the rest of the journey until they made it to the village.

“They have a lot of stray dogs around here…” (Y/n) commented as they entered the village.

“I was trying to ignore that fact, but yes, it is an unusual amount for a village this size.” Shinobu said, pulling her hand away from a dog who ventured close enough to sniff at her.

“Still don’t like cute, furry animals?” (Y/n) snickered, offering her own hand for the friendly stray to sniff before lightly scratching behind his ears.

“Don’t touch strange dogs, (Y/n), honestly…” Shinobu scoffed lightly, “you don’t know where its been. It could have fleas, mange, rabies… I said, stop that.” Shinobu pulled (Y/n) away from the dog by the back of the collar of her uniform and continued to walk through the village. “We have a mission to complete and I’m not wasting what little supplies I brought to patch up a dog bite.”

“Come on, he’s friendly! You’re as much of a killjoy as ever, you know that?”

“Excuse me, have you noticed anything odd about your village in the past few weeks?” Shinobu was already moving along with the mission, asking villagers about the goings on.

The influx of stray dogs was indeed a phenomenon that had only occurred within the last two weeks. Along with this, a dozen villagers had gone missing alongside the slayers who had been sent to the village before them, usually gone without a trace. There had been a few instances where they had found clothes identifiable as belonging to missing persons, but that was the only lead they had.

“So there’s definitely a demon around here who’s turning people into dogs, right?” (Y/n) said once they stopped at a little roadside vendor for an early dinner.

“We don’t know that.” Shinobu replied, after sipping her tea. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“Hey, didn’t you get saddled with helping a bunch of spider people get back to normal? It’s totally feasible! You just don’t want to agree with me because you’re stubborn.”

“It’s too early in the investigation to be certain. Even if there is a demon blood art that can turn people into dogs, we shouldn’t approach thinking we know the whole situation. We don’t even know how many demons were dealing with yet, if we find one, whose to say it’ll have the power you are expecting it to have?”

(Y/n) stuck her tongue out and Shinobu and then groaned, she leaned back, bracing herself with her hands curling around the back edge of the bench she and Shinobu shared. “Okay, smarty pants.”

Shinobu subtly rolled her eyes and took another sip of her tea and it was quite for a few minutes as they watched the sun slowly sink beneath the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant orange and pink. Shinobu felt eyes on her and caught (Y/n)’s eye before she could completely turn her attention elsewhere.

“Yes?” Shinobu rose an eyebrow, finding the odd expression on (Y/n)’s face curious. She had never quite seen anything like that look before. Granted, she hadn’t seen (Y/n) in a couple months, which could feel like a lifetime in the quick-paced lives of demon slayers, Hashira being the busiest of all. Shinobu would not admit it, but there were often times she wondered how (Y/n) was doing, wondered if she should send a letter, but she never knew what to write, so she didn’t.

(Y/n) almost looked like she was gearing up to say something, but then seemed to change her mind at the last second, shaking her head.

“It’s nothing.” She finally shrugged.

“It doesn’t seem that way.” Shinobu scrutinized (Y/n)’s posture and expression in an attempt to decide what may have been going through her mind. “Usually you have no problem speaking your mind. A rather annoying habit of yours, actually.”

“Hypocrite.” (Y/n)’s lips turned upward in a small, almost nervous smile as she watched the sun sink below the distant mountains. “But maybe I’ll tell you after the mission.”

Shinobu kept her eyes to the side of (Y/n)’s head a few beats longer before facing forward again.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

***

They disposed of quite a few demons that night and the added challenge of it being a new moon left the forest extremely dark. Fortunately, that did little to hamper the progress the two Hashira were making, but as dawn approached and the longer reprieves between battles, they began to let their guard down.

“I believe we may be done here.” Shinobu said after taking another lap around the woods that surrounded the village and finding nothing.

“There’s no way.” (Y/n) shook her head. “None of those demons were particularly challenging. I don’t see why so many demon slayers and villagers would have disappeared. We still haven’t found one with a dog-related demon art yet either…”

Shinobu shook her head, “Will you let that theory go already?”

“Nope! I know I’m on to something. I can feel it in my bones.”

“You’ve come to me with broken bones on enough occasions that I doubt that ‘feeling in your bones’ is reliable.”

“Come on, just one more lap, please? Humor me just this once.”

Shinobu bit the inside of her cheek, then sighed quietly. “Fine, one more lap, but only because you said please and I’ve never heard you ask so politely.”

(Y/n) stuck her tongue out at Shinobu again and then started jogging around the path once more. Shinobu shook her head, but followed (Y/n) anyway. They maybe made it about three-fourths through the wide ring they were traveling when (Y/n) stopped so suddenly, Shinobu almost bumped into her.

“Did you hear that?” She whispered, looking at Shinobu over her shoulder.

Before Shinobu could answer, a whining sound sounded from somewhere off of the path and (Y/n) leapt over some brambles to go investigate.

“(Y/n), don’t rush in without a plan.” Shinobu warned, leaping after her with her sword drawn.

“Oh, poor guy…”

“What? What is… it.” Shinobu trailed off when she caught up to see what (Y/n) was crouching over.

Yet another stray, caught up in some brambles. It’s whining and struggling only seeming to make itself more tangled.

“Awww, hang on buddy. I’ll get you out of there.” (Y/n) soothed, getting right in the brambles with the trapped dog.

“(Y/n), be careful.” Shinobu warned, feeling more on edge when she saw the dog growl and snap at (Y/n)’s hands.

“It’s fine. She’s just a little scared.”

It took a little work, but (Y/n) managed to free the dog from the brambles, getting a little scratched up herself in the process.

“Shinobu, will you check her out? Make sure she’s okay?”

“I’m not a veterinarian.”

“Oh come on, how different is it really?”

“Quite. Different.”

“Shinobu.” (Y/n) glared at her.

“Fine, fine.”

But before Shinobu could join (Y/n) beside the dog, it suddenly bolted, tail between its legs.

“Well, it must be perfectly fine to be able to run off like that.” Shinobu said, brushing off her hands on her pants even though she had not gotten the chance to touch the dog.

“Maybe physically fine, but that dog seemed terrified.” (Y/n) stood up and brushed herself off, looking deeper into the forest. “I’m gonna go further, see if I find something.”

She hopped over the bramble bushes and jogged deeper into the forest. Shinobu suppressed the urge to groan and followed her.

“Shinobu, look at this.” (Y/n) was crouched to the ground, a hakamashita and complementary hakama draped over her arms. “It’s like what they said in the village, random clothes in the woods. I wonder if these were left here recently.”

“They don’t appear to have been worn down by the elements. I would wager they haven’t been left for very long at all.” Shinobu deduced.

“You’re correct. I can assure you that bundle is quite fresh.”

(Y/n) and Shinobu whipped their heads around, finding a bright beam of red light being directed at the both of them.

“You’ll both make such cute little doggies~”

“Shinobu, move!”

Before Shinobu could react, (Y/n) was already pushing her out of the way, taking the full blast of the beam and collapsing onto the forest floor in front of her. Shinobu got up quickly, narrowly avoiding another beam.

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu cursed under her breath, her fellow Hashira was still laid out on the ground, writing in pain. She couldn’t afford to check on (Y/n)‘s condition at the moment, she needed to take down this demon first and she would be sure to make them suffer just as much as (Y/n) appeared to be.

“Ah! You’re a fast one, aren’t you? And such a scary look in your eyes!” The demon dodged each of Shinobu’s strikes, his tail wagging excitedly, annoyingly, Shinobu would add. “I’m doing you a favor, you’ll be so much happier, so carefree! You should feel honored that I want to give you a more simple life. I devour the humans I find unworthy. You look like you’d make a good dog person.”

“I’m more of a fish person, actually.” Shinobu tried to stab the demon again, but he dodged, back flipping away. “I can’t stand fur.”

“That so? A pity. But don’t you worry, you’ll forget all about your depressing human existence by the full moon and you’ll forget all about your silly little peculiarities.”

Shinobu dodged several more beams, trying to counter when she could, but it was fairly even on both sides. However, Shinobu did have one weapon that never failed her, the sun. If she could stall long enough, keep the demon within this clearing, he would burn to ash and scatter on the wind. Then she could focus on the dozens of people who had been transformed, she could make sure (Y/n) was going to be okay. She better be okay, because Shinobu had quite a few things to say to her after making such a self-sacrificing decision.

Dawn was quickly approaching after they already spent most of the night making rounds. Instead of taking a purely offensive approach, Shinobu began to defend the treeline to make sure the demon couldn’t slip away. The demon seemed to understand her plan and smiled wickedly.

“I’d keep my eye on your partner over there if I were you. The transformation process tends to leave people rather defenseless.”

Shinobu’s head snapped back towards (Y/n) on pure reflex and her grip on her nichirin blade tightened. Another demon was creeping towards the hunched bundle (Y/n) had become, hoping for an easy meal in the last moments before sunrise. Shinobu didn’t have to think twice before rushing in.

“I knew you’d make the right choice!” The dog-tailed demon laughed, springing into the dark woods and quickly out of sight as Shinobu’s blade found home in the much weaker demon’s chest.

The weaker demon spluttered, then stilled, the first beams of sunlight burning the body into nothing while Shinobu fell to her knees beside the lump of cloth that was once her rival, the person who pushed her away and spared her from having to share the same fate. The person who she still had so much left to compete over with, to argue with, to pop in on unexpectedly to torment when they were apart for too long, to tease, to talk, to eventually confess—

Shinobu shook her head and placed her hand on the center of the lump beneath the layers of haori and uniform.

“(Y/n)?” She cautiously called.

The lump beneath her palm stirred, and she pulled back, watching the bundle of fabric rise wiggle, a low growl came from the bundle as what was left beneath it struggled to free itself. Shinobu reached out again to help and another growl sounded as her hands came in contact.

“Calm down, I’m helping.” Shinobu assured, pulling the layers away, until the mid-sized Kishu dog could shake the rest off herself.

‘Oh gods…’ (Y/n) spun around on wobbly, unfamiliar paws, trying to get her bearings, trying not to panic at the new state of her body.

“Are you sincerely chasing your tail right now?” Shinobu asked, making (Y/n) turn to face her with a sharp bark of warning that if translated correctly would probably be the equivalent of ‘shut up’. “Can you still understand me?“

‘Do you really have to ask?’ An almost disbelieving snort left (Y/n)’s muzzle, the intelligent look in her eye being enough to answer Shinobu’s query.

“Okay, at least you have that much going for you. It’s unfortunate, I finally don’t have to listen to the nonsense you’re always spouting, but now I’m stuck with a fluffy-tailed mongrel.”

‘Hey!’ Another indignant bark and a little stomp of (Y/n)’s front paws was the best rebuttal she could give at the moment and Shinobu smirked despite the state of affairs they hand landed themselves in.

“Didn’t quite catch that, apologies.” A growl was the reply this time, and Shinobu chuckled. “Actually, this could be pretty fun. It’s too bad I have a responsibility to at least try to restore you to your former self. It wouldn’t do to have a Hashira who hasn’t the thumbs necessary to wield their sword.”

‘Oh, yeah? I’ll make you eat those words, just you wait!‘ (Y/n) huffed again and dug her snoot beneath her clothes and rustled around a bit, emerging once more with the hilt of her blade clasped firmly between her teeth. ‘Checkmate!’

“Put that down before you hurt yourself.” Shinobu reached out to take the sword, but (Y/n) was not making it easy for her, dragging the blade around Shinobu in several tight circles. “Drop it, mutt.” She ordered, smiling tightly.

‘As if I’d start taking orders from you.’ If dogs could roll their eyes, (Y/n) would have found a way, but a huff of air left her muzzle before she started to trot off towards the village, hilt still in her jaws. ‘This is kinda heavy though, actually…’

“Where do you think you’re going, the mansion is that way.” Shinobu tilted her head in the opposite direction as she gathered the rest of (Y/n)’s belongings.

‘I’m not the only dog-person here that needs a safe place to sleep.’

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder briefly before continuing to trot over to the village, sword dragging against the ground. If her swordsmith could see what she was doing, they’d probably have a heart attack. Shinobu released a long exhale from her nose then followed after her.

It soon became clear to Shinobu what (Y/n) was thinking about when she went back into the village. Slowly, she amassed a small fleet of stray dogs. Shinobu surmised through observation that these dogs must have been human once as well, as (Y/n) seemed to converse with them. Those that were pure stray dogs would, well, act like dogs. Those that seemed to have been human followed (Y/n) throughout the village and helped her locate more unfortunate souls.

Finally, (Y/n) trotted back up to Shinobu with the pack and looked up at her expectantly. Shinobu would have liked to wait on rounding up the civilian and slayer victims until after she had the cure prepared, but it would seem (Y/n) was expecting her to house all of these humans turned canine. She knew it was the right thing to do, some of them had been condemned to the outdoors since the moon had been waning. That didn’t stop Shinobu from dreading this sudden influx of furry patients, however.

“All right,” Shinobu sighed, “Let’s go…” she turned to start walking back home, but she heard (Y/n) grunt beside her, now struggling to continue dragging her sword around. Shinobu smirked. “Done being unreasonable?”

‘Oh, shut it.’ (Y/n) dropped the sword at Shinobu’s feet with a huff and Shinobu knelt down to pick it up, realizing too late how slimy the hilt was. Her whole body shivered with disgust and (Y/n) barked a laugh before scampering forward to take the lead.

“Someone is going to be sleeping in the garden shed tonight.” Shinobu smiled threateningly, wiping her hand off on (Y/n)’s haori still bundled within her arms.

***

Shinobu didn’t really make (Y/n) sleep in the shed, in fact, they ended up spending countless hours together in the lab. Shinobu had not expected finding a cure to be so difficult. She expected to have to adjust the formula she came up with for the slayers on Natagumo Mountain, but no matter how many time she recalculated, the drug just would not take effect.

As they days stretched on, she only got more anxious, though she did her best not to let it show. If what the demon said was true, they were running out of time before the transformation was permanent. Some of the victims who had been transformed earlier in the month sometimes got confused, more canine than human in behavior. Looking up at the night sky, a waxing gibbous hung high over Shinobu’s head, mocking her. In less than a week, the full moon would arrive, and the human minds trapped within their canine vessels would be lost.

There were very few things that made Shinobu angrier than a problem that she could not solve on her own. Medicine, science, that was her bread and butter. She knew logically that she wasn’t infallible, she couldn’t solve every problem, but that didn’t make it any less aggravating.

She dropped her head in her hands and rubbed her temples, then pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. She had come out onto the engawa after another failed attempt to reverse the demon art’s effects on (Y/n) after hours of work. Now that she was outside, the moon only reminded her of how little time remained. She could just about scream.

But then a wet snoot swiped against her ear, making her cringe and bat away her visitor.

“(Y/n), that’s foul.” Shinobu glared at the Hashira turned hound now sitting beside her.

‘If you really want to be justifiably horrified, I could have licked you instead.’ (Y/n) chuffed at Shinobu’s displeasure then looked at her expectantly. Shinobu felt something uncomfortably heavy in her chest whilst looking at her.

“I suppose this is your way of telling me my break is over?” She tried to sound annoyed, but her tone sounded more pathetic to her own ears.

(Y/n) snorted and shook her head. ‘I hate that boring-ass lab’.

“Well, I must get back to the drawing board anyway.” Shinobu stood and turned to walk back inside, but a tugging on her haori made her pause. She turned around to reprimand (Y/n) but she had already leapt off of the engawa, circling a patch of dirt as if wanting Shinobu to come closer. Shinobu decided to humor her and hopped down to the ground herself, watching (Y/n) pick up a stick between her teeth.

“You don’t want me to throw that for you, do you?” Shinobu asked, half-joking, half worried that (Y/n) was starting to lose herself as well, but thankfully (Y/n) gave her an incredulous glare before proceeding to use the stick to sloppily draw in the dirt.

Shinobu scrutinized the crudely drawn blob, trying her best to decipher its meaning. “(Y/n), when you retire, art may not be a good hobby for you.”

‘You try drawing without hands!’ (Y/n) growled and stomped her paw against the dirt and then tried to make her doodle look more clear and somehow, Shinobu thought it was reminiscent of a certain demon that she very much wanted to pump full of poison.

“The dog demon? What about him?”

‘We go find him and fuck him up!’ (Y/n) mimicked searching and sniffing around, sneaking up on her messy drawing and then pouncing and digging at it with a growl until there was nothing left. She then looked up at Shinobu expectantly.

“You want to destroy him. As do I, but he could be anywhere by now. I can’t imagine he stuck around the village after all of that.” Shinobu knelt down in front of (Y/n). “You don’t need to worry, I’m not going to rest until I have the proper formula. You will be human again, I promise.”

‘Come on, Kochou. This is our best shot. You must know that by now.’ (Y/n) whined and shook her head. She pounced on the disturbed dirt again, looking up at Shinobu with a fire of determination in her eyes.

“We’re running out of time…” Shinobu tried her best to keep her voice even. “We can’t go out on some wild goose chase. Reworking the formula is the only thing we can do.”

A sharp bark left (Y/n), startling Shinobu, ‘We can do this! Since when have you ever been known to shy away when things get tough?’ She pounced on the dirt again and then sprinted to the mansion fence before turning back to Shinobu and barking again. ‘Let’s go, Kochou! I’d leave you behind, but in this state, I could really use the backup.’

Shinobu’s hands tightened into fists beneath the sleeves of her haori. “Stubborn fool.” She mumbled under her breath. She briefly looked behind her in the direction of the the lab, an uncertain feeling burying itself in her brain in a place where she just couldn’t shake it loose. Then she looked back to (Y/n), fur almost glowing under the moon. Even in this form, Shinobu could see the same steadfast determination that she had for every obstacle in front of her.

Shinobu felt a pulse of annoyance and anger. (Y/n) was the one who was about to lose everything, and here she was stalling and feeling sorry for herself. (Y/n) deserved to make the final call and Shinobu would do all she could to help her. And in the end, if it came to it, Shinobu would take care of that damn dog until her last breath. She would give her the best life a mutt could ever hope for. But now was not the time to start planning for that future outcome. She’d much rather have (Y/n) telling her stupid jokes, maybe finally work up the courage to hold her hand, grin when (Y/n) would get flustered by the sudden action and tease her relentlessly over getting so nervous from a simple hand hold. That’s what Shinobu wanted, and she’d be damned if she let that opportunity slip away from her for the last time.

“Alright then,” Shinobu took a calming breath, fingers grazing over the hilt of her blade, “We have less than a week to find him. Let’s hope that nose of yours can sniff out that vermin quickly.”

‘That’s what I’m talking about!’ (Y/n) barked excitedly, running circles around Shinobu once she had opened the gate. ‘Let’s get the bastard!’

***

They began in the village where everything went wrong and from there, (Y/n) picked up a scent. It was faint, but it was a start. For days (Y/n) and Shinobu were on the road, following the scent. Resting was a little tricky, Wisteria Houses weren’t always available and regular civilian lodging usually didn’t allow animals and (Y/n) was too big to smuggle in, so they would find places to sleep outside during the day. Sometimes Shinobu would fall asleep with her head on (Y/n)’s side, waking up disoriented and grossed out by the fur clinging to her clothes and hair while (Y/n) made the closest noise she could to a snicker and wagged her tail.

Shinobu would glare at her and chuck the nearest stick she could find into the woods, smirking when (Y/n) couldn’t help but go get it and bring it back to her with a strange mix between resentment and hopefulness that Shinobu would throw it again. After a couple more tosses, Shinobu would finally relent, satisfied that she had gotten her revenge.

They would then continue on, the scent getting stronger the further they traveled until finally on the last day, (Y/n) found herself surrounded by the scent. The demon’s new stomping grounds.

‘This is it!’ She barked and bounced back and forth, alerting Shinobu with her little dance.

“Is this it?” Shinobu felt hope rise within her as she took in the sea beyond the cliff they had found themselves near. Somewhere within this jagged landscape, the demon was laying low until sunset. Tonight, on the last possible night, Shinobu would end that demon and hear (Y/n)’s voice once more, to see her smile. Everything will be back to the way it was supposed to be.

Easier said than done.

When night fell, the demon wasn’t hard to find, they just needed to follow the scent and the trail of clumsy-looking dogs left in his wake. He wasn’t the same, however. After their last encounter about fifteen days ago, he had been devouring more humans than he had been transforming. He had anticipated the occurrence of this reunion and did his best to prepare for this moment. It was only by the carelessness of one of his demon companions that he managed to escape dawn’s first light.

“We meet again!” He said with a false chipper tone, scratching behind the ears of a dog struggling and whining against his hold. “Have you come to join your friend so you can be carefree and frolic together for the rest of your days?”

“No, not quite.” Shinobu smiled tightly, her thumb slowly dragging the first inch of her blade out of its sheath.

The demon frowned, his tail unmoving, “I didn’t think so. So unfortunate that you would rather fight against pure happiness!” He released the dog, who promptly scrambled away and aimed a beam of swirling red power at Shinobu.

Shinobu dodged the beam easily, fully prepared for the demon’s speed this time around. (Y/n) barked, sprinting through the woods to try to keep up with the battle, even though Shinobu had told her to stay back before the battle had even begun. As if (Y/n) was going to leave her without support, even if she was in the form of a dog.

The battle went on most of the night, slowly chipping away at Shinobu’s stamina and both her and the demon’s patience.

“Why won’t you just hold still!” He growled. “It’ll only take a minute! You’ll be so much happier! Would you really rather die? Leave your friend to wander through this world alone?”

“The only one who is going to die tonight, is you.” Shinobu swore, her sword clanking and scraping against the demon’s claws, trying to nick his skin just even once.

There was an orange glow bleeding into the horizon, dawn was approaching, highlighting the churning ocean below. Shinobu was not going to let him get away this time. She couldn’t. Even when she found herself dangerously close to the cliff’s edge, she did not waiver. Not even when her wrists had been trapped in the demon’s hands after a failed strike, even when the demon grinned wickedly at her, pushing her towards the edge of the cliff, the fire in her eyes did not leave her.

Guessing the demon’s intent, she dropped her sword and and grabbed the demon’s clothes. If she was going over the edge, so was he. The sun would rise as they fell, the demon would turn to dust before they hit the water. What happened after… well, as long as (Y/n) and the others were back to normal, then Shinobu thought the sacrifice would be worth it.

‘I don’t think so!’ With a mighty growl, (Y/n) launched into the fray, clamping sharp teeth into the back of the demon’s calf, ripping and tearing at the muscle, making the demon shout and push Shinobu to the ground to attempt to rip (Y/n) away from his leg, he kicked and shoved and punched, but (Y/n) kept a firm grip on the demon, until the cliff’s edge crumbled away beneath them.

“No!” Shinobu reached over the ledge in an attempt to grab (Y/n), but it was already too late, she watched in horror as the demon burned to ash and scattered in the wind, while (Y/n) disappeared in the surf.

(Y/n) kept her eyes to the sky as long as she could, watching Shinobu become nothing more than a blot of color on the cliff high above. A whine clawed out of her throat. Was this really it? ‘I should have told her how I really felt.’

Everything went black before she even hit the water.

Shinobu scaled down the cliff as fast as she could, not ready to accept the reality of what she saw. (Y/n) was too stubborn, too annoyingly resilient. There was no way she was going to lose her. Not when she had so much she wanted to tell her.

“(Y/n)!” She yelled over the sound of waves crashing over the rocky shore. “(Y/n), where are you?”

Finally, something caught her eye in the surf, a bundle of fur floating up and down in the waves. Shinobu quickly waded out to her knees, stumbling on the slippery rocks beneath her feet. She wrapped her arms around the motionless lump and dragged it back to shore, collapsing right on the edge where the waves would still lap at her feet as she laid on the sandy rocks, her face buried in the wet, matted fur of one of the most special people in her life.

“Why did you have to do that, you idiot?” Shinobu hissed, breaths coming quick and shallow. “You told me once that I’d never be able to be rid of you. You swore…”

Shinobu’s eyes stung with sea salt and tears, shutting them tightly as she hugged (Y/n) closer. “There’s so much I didn’t get to tell you, so much I wanted to hear from you,” Her voice cracked, “Something was wrong, why didn’t you just tell me what was on your mind that day? Why didn’t I pry further? You promised you’d tell me, so keep your damn promise and wake up!”

As she weeped, she failed to notice the fur melt away from between her clenched fists, how the body expanded and morphed beneath her tear-stained face. Only after the body beneath her blinked awake and rose a hand to clutch Shinobu’s haori, did her eyes open, harboring a manic look within.

(Y/n) managed a tired grin though she looked like she nearly drowned. With as much strength as she could muster, she brought her hand to Shinobu’s cheek, clumsily brushing her chilled and clammy fingers against the tear-stained skin.

“H-hey…” Her vocal chords didn’t feel exactly right yet, but it was music to Shinobu’s ears. She brought her own hand up, keeping (Y/n)’s hand pressed to her cheek.

“You…” a watery chuckle escaped her lips, “you damn fool, why did you do that?”

“What?” (Y/n) spoke hoarsely, “And let you have all the glory? I don’t think so. I always feel like I’m trying to catch up to you as it stands. Any opportunity I can find to show you I’m just as good as you is one I can’t pass up on.”

“And what an ineffective way to show it. You could have not been less graceful if you tried.”

“Hey!” (Y/n) coughed and Shinobu quickly helped her sit up, wrapping her shivering body in her haori and pulling (Y/n)’s head to her chest, and hugging her close in an attempt to give her some warmth.

“Don’t get so excited, you’re in bad shape. In fact, just focus on breathing, alright? That’s all I want from you right now.”

“But there’s something I gotta say first.”

“It can wait.”

“It’s been held off long enough.” She insisted. “I made a promise and I don’t want to wait another minute to tell you so…” She swallowed thickly and cleared her throat, “All the years we spent brawling, competing, goading… I wouldn’t trade any of that for anything. You’re presence has always been my safety blanket, my constant. You’re the most important person in my life and I love you.” (Y/n) sighed, the tail-end of the breath coming out as a chuckle. “Can’t believe how easy that was to finally say—“

Shinobu squeezed (Y/n)’s cheeks between the fingers of one hand with such force that (Y/n) could feel Shinobu’s fingers against her teeth, the muscle and skin of her cheeks being the thin barrier between them. Suddenly her back was against the rocky sand again, Shinobu hovering over her almost menacingly.

“Oh you love me, do you Miss Gallantry? What a relief to hear, truly.” And truthfully, Shinobu was relieved, elated even, but the aura she was emitting shook (Y/n) to her very core. “The one to save me not once, but twice is also the first to say ‘I love you’? Are you trying to outdo me, (Y/n)?”

“I-it’s not a competition!” (Y/n) sputtered, unable to look away from Shinobu’s intense stare as the grip on her face persisted.

“Everything has always been a competition of sorts between us, (Y/n),” Shinobu’s face drew closer, “and I’m not going to let you leave me behind. My comeback starts now.”

Shinobu’s lips met hers in a searing, salty kiss, and a rather thorough one at that. When she pulled away, they were both breathing heavily.

“I love you more.” Shinobu smugly declared. “Even though you currently smell like wet dog.”

“I do not!”

“Oh, you definitely do. It’s rather disturbing. I hope it’s not permanent.”

“You don’t exactly smell like flowers right now either!” (Y/n) pouted, wrapping her arms around Shinobu so she could bring her closer and rub her wet, tangled hair against Shinobu’s clothes, making Shinobu gasp and try to push her away.

They bickered, bantered, laughed and kissed, laying side by side on the ocean shore as the sun creeped further into the sky, bathing them in a warm glow. After a few days rest at the nearest Wisteria House, the pair finally returned to the Butterfly Mansion, finding all manner of gifts left at the mansion gate.

As Aoi would later explain, they were gifts of gratitude from the villagers once affected by the troublesome spell. The girls were surprised to learn that the two Hashira were finally together. Not so much surprised by the fact that they enjoyed each other’s company that much, but surprised that they finally admitted it out loud to each other.

But what maybe surprised the Butterfly Mansion residents more than the admission of love was how the competitions never subsided. It became a lot more lively around the mansion, especially if Tanjirou and the gang were hanging around. Seeing the genuine smile light up Shinobu’s face whenever (Y/n) was with her was contagious.

“Here girl, we’re going to be late. I’m not going to let you sabotage my perfect date.” Shinobu whistled, patting her thighs as (Y/n) slipped on her shoes.

“Don’t talk to me like a dog!” She couldn’t stop the smirk that worked its way into her lips as she joined Shinobu at her side. “Besides, why would I stall? It’s going to be impossible for you to one up the last outing I planned.”

Shinobu lightly ran her fingers down the side of (Y/n)’s face, smiling when she caught wind of a couple butterflies fluttering in (Y/n)’s stomach at the gentle touch. “I wouldn’t count me out just yet.”

[katnissmellarkkk]

tis I with a prompt: I request the first time post war Katniss lets Peeta into her bed again 🥺

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AN : wrote this the night you sent the prompt but I absolutely hated it until now. I finally got around to cleaning this up a bit and now I think it’s cute? Lemme know, all of y’all, if you like it! And my writing muscles are rusty so send me a prompt if you like, to try and work me out please! Can’t make any promises about what’ll trigger my brain but I can sure try! Anywaysss hope y’all enjoy this lil post-mockingjay-pre-epilogue drabble here!

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I watch with dread as Peeta scrubs away the last bit of sauce still dried to his plate.

“You really don’t have to do that,” I murmur halfheartedly from where I lean against the counter, watching him.

“It’s rude to not wash your own plate after dinner,” he says, his tone somewhat coy. He’s teasing me, I realize. He’s maybe even flirting with me but I can’t be sure and even if I could, I wouldn’t know what to make of it.

“I never wash mine after eating at your house,” I mumble, mostly to myself. I know he doesn’t care about cleaning off my plate for me. I know that he knows that I don’t mind washing his plate either.

But I don’t push the point and neither does he. Because we’re both stalling the inevitable.

It’s past ten at night and it’s time for Peeta to go home now. This time comes every day and we should be more prepared for it by this point, but every single night when the sun has long since left the sky and you can barely make out five feet in front of you without a flashlight, Peeta walks out the front door and my chest aches, as he disappears out into the night.

Ask him to stay, a tiny voice that sounds weirdly like both Haymitch and my mother — at the same exact time — pressures me.

But my tongue won’t cooperate and I can’t make the words form on my lips and I feel my stomach flip as I stutter out an awkward goodbye instead.

“Goodnight, Katniss,” Peeta says evenly, his face smooth and peaceful and totally level as he reaches out and squeezes my hand before moving to grab his coat.

He’s walking towards the door and I feel the familiar dread — the dread that’s been my constant companion for longer than I care to remember — rise up in my stomach and for a split second I want to reach out and grasp his elbow. For a split second I want to grab onto him and stop him from leaving.

And for a moment I plan to ask him to stay, to come upstairs with me, to get into his pajamas and brush his teeth by my side at the sink, to crawl beneath the sheets and hold me until we hear birds begin to chirp with the morning light. In that moment I plan to ask him to do exactly what we used to do on the train, exactly what we used to do every single night, back before everything between us completely shattered beyond recognition.

My hand drops midair before I can make the contact with his arm but it catches his attention just the same.

“What’s wrong?” He inquires, his face becoming concerned.

“Nothing,” I brush off tightly. Instead of saying what I’m thinking, instead of saying what I want, I just force a smile and lightly graze his hand. “Get home safe.”

At that, he shoots me a bemused look. “I live three houses from you. Somehow I think I’ll be fine.”

I nod and chuckle as he leaves, as he disappears into the night, making the shortest of journeys home, unwittingly leaving me to dwell in regret for all the things I wish I’d just come out and said.

As soon as the door shuts between us regret the size of an elephant lands on my chest.

And I know, without a doubt, this is going to be one bad night for me.

-

The funny thing about my nightmares is they never lose their edge. Not with time, not with practice, not with comparison. I’ve seen Cato get eaten by the mutts hundreds of times. I’ve watched Clove stab me with her knives and Brutus chase me through the jungle and Enobaria break my neck with one hand, more than I could possibly count.

I’ve witnessed my sister detonate, as if I’m still standing right there, in the city circle of the Capitol. I’ve witnessed it thousands of times since that day. I’ve witnessed it more often than I’ve managed to actually sleep since that day.

And it never gets easier. It never becomes routine. I’m never ever prepared for it.

Instead I’m left paralyzed as the same dreams plague me over and over and over again.

Other things do change though. I used to thrash around, kicking and screaming as the dreams tortured me for minutes on end. I used to wake up, sweat covered and coiled up in my bedding, trapped in a physical sense that only manages to make my dreams even more intense somehow.

But over time something shifted and somehow, between the bomb that killed my sister and taking down Coin and the trial I scarcely remember, the thrashing stopped and the walking began.

For months now, I’ve woken to find myself in strange rooms, in small crawl spaces I didn’t know existed, inside cupboards and beneath beds no one’s ever used in guest rooms I barely recognize.

But I’ve never found myself outside before. Never, in all the time I’ve dealt with these dreams, have I ever once ended up in my front lawn.

Never, in my wildest imagination, did I picture myself waking from my nightmare, facedown in some dirt, ripping grass from the ground as I let out a rabid scream.

“Katniss,” I hear a voice softly murmur, like speaking to an injured fawn, terrified of scaring them away. “Katniss, it’s okay.”

And my lips cry for the voice before my brain fully recognizes it. “Peeta?”

“It’s just me,” he says, and I feel his hands grasp the tops of my arms, gently pulling me upright. “It’s only me.”

I pry my swollen eyes open and take in Peeta’s kind, worried face, mere inches away from mine.

“You’re here?” I croak, still groggy and confused. “What’s going on?”

“You were having a nightmare,” he explains, thumbing away my tears as more come pouring out. “But it’s over now. It was just a dream. You’re okay.” His hand cups my cheek softly, holding the weight of my head.

I nod plaintively, my body still completely exhausted despite the fact I was just asleep. “I’m okay,” I try to say but all that comes out is a guttural raspy sound and I watch as his face softens even more.

“Come on. Let’s get you inside,” he whispers, offering me his hand.

I take it without question, but find that I’m not upright for long. The moment I’m standing, my bare feet touching the dewy grass, Peeta bends down and scoops me up in his arms.

I don’t question it though. Maybe secretly I wanted him to do that. I definitely didn’t want to wait around to see if Haymitch came outside, asking why I was screaming at this hour of the day.

Peeta carries me into the house as if I weigh as much as Buttercup, kicking the door shut behind him and walking over to the couch. He sits down with me on his lap and drops his arms, as if to let me decide the next move. I could either crawl away from him, put some distance between us, or I could remain where I am.

To me, the choice barely takes any consideration.

I curl up closer to him, the images from the dream still too fresh to handle alone. I press my face into his neck and fold myself into him and hope he reciprocates in kind.

It doesn’t take more than a second for him to respond. As soon as I initiate it, he’s there, pulling me tighter, cradling me against him, rocking me back and forth like I’m something precious to behold.

“It’s okay,” he repeats again and again and again, as if we entered a time warp and we’re back on the train, back in the Capitol in our little apartment, sharing a bed, guarding against nightmares we stupidly thought would be the height of our troubles. “I have you, Katniss. I won’t let anything hurt you now.”

I cry into the collar of his shirt, drained and shaking and still half-crazed, feeling slightly better only when his fingers begins to smooth my hair away from my face.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” Peeta whispers gently, his hand moving from my hair to my lower back, rubbing soft, soothing circles there to alleviate my trembling.

Time begins to pass. My tears dwindle to nothing. I feel the shaking come to an end. Every last ounce of energy I have left seeps from my body. My eyes grow heavy.

And pretty soon, I feel myself lifted once again, into strong, protective arms, cradling me like a baby as they carry me up the stairs and down to the end of the hall.

I’m tucked into bed gently, with the utmost care. The covers are brought up to my chin, my hair is brushed off my forehead and his fingers lightly dance upon my cheek. But it’s not enough. I still crave more.

“Don’t leave me,” I whisper, and my voice still isn’t mine, it’s someone else, someone who isn’t afraid to ask for what she wants. For who she wants to lay beside her in the darkness.

“Okay,” he murmurs and it sounds like a promise but as he sits down on the side of my bed and takes my hand in his, planting a soft kiss upon the back of it, I know he doesn’t understand what I’m truly asking.

“No, Peeta, that’s not what I meant,” I say, shaking my head, before pushing the covers back. “Can you get in? Can you stay with me?”

I don’t really grasp my word choice and all the underlying meanings until it’s already slipped out and too late to take back again.

But I only have a moment to be filled with regret. Because that’s how long it takes Peeta to slide in beside me.

And as I curl into him, wrapping my leg around his waist, burrowing my face in the curve of his neck, basking in the feeling of utter safety and happiness that I have never, ever found in another pair of arms, he whispers the only thing that could erase my chagrin.

“Always.”

[daydreams-after-dark]

What's your fanfic fantasy? part 14 CONCLUSION

Chapter Contents.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 //

Premise: fem reader + Chan + Jisung 18+ fanfic. This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?

Chapter Summary: Another threesome...

a/n: this is it. the final chapter. I want to thank everyone who has followed this fic and the journey of y/n, chan, and jisung. I hope you enjoyed the other characters and what amazing friends they are helping her out like they did.

This chapter is pure smut. (All the other chapters were too, I suppose) but this is just because I wanted to see our three main characters together.

Warnings: threesome, vaginal sex, anal sex, double pen two holes, m x m x f, oral sex, coercion, I don’t even know anymore! But if you’ve read up to this point you will be fine.

Y/n pov.

You wake up with your limbs wrapped around a body. You’re exhausted but as soon as you remember where you are and whose bodies are lying beside you, you’re newly energised. You’re here with your two loves. Jisung, who you’re clinging to like a koala, and Chan spooning you from behind. A smile appears across your face. This is what it feels like to wake up with them?

You gaze at Jisung, who looks peaceful, and beautiful, as he sleeps. Your mind drifts back to the night before, to his confession. He’s loved you all this time? You that thought sit with you as you recall some of the awkward encounters he and you have had over that time. Or the moments where his gaze would linger a little too long. You had never really paid attention to it. Your mind was always on Chan. But what had changed this week to make you see Jisung in a different way? Perhaps because you could fantasise about the other band members and not him it meant you had somehow blocked in him from your mind? Maybe deep down you knew you liked him but thought that would make you feel confused about your feelings for Chan? Who knows?

But then the way he looked at you the other night, it tore down any blocks or barricades you had up between you and him. Jisung claimed you that night. He must have been terrified to finally touch you?

You feel a stirring behind you. Chan adjusting his hips and pressing his morning erection against your ass. Oh! to have finally felt Chan inside of you! It was more than you could’ve ever have imagined. He was absolutely fucking perfect. Just the right balance of tender and brutal.

And now you’re horny.

You wriggle your ass back against Chan and his hand is quick to grip your hip, pulling you back hard against him. His mouth finds the sensitive part of your neck and kisses you tenderly.

“Good morning, my beautiful.” He whispers, and it’s almost like he can’t believe you’re really here. After a few minutes of gentle caressing, he leans up on an elbow so he can see over you. “Isn’t Ji just so perfect when he’s asleep?” he grins.

“So you’re saying he’s not perfect when he’s awake?” You joke.

“Ha fucking ha. No,” his expression turns loving “he gets really anxious and stressed. He doesn’t always show it, but it’s there. When he’s asleep, he looks peaceful.”

Chan’s right. Jisung does look perfect when he’s asleep.

“Do you think he’s excited for a threesome?” You ask, turning your head back to look at Chan.

“I think he’s going to lose his shit.” Chan chuckled.

“Should we suck him off together? To wake him up?” You ask lightheartedly.

Jisung’s eyes fling open “Yes!!! Yes please!” He says eagerly.

Chan laughs “You fucking little piece of shit. How long have you been awake?”

Jisung feigns innocence. “Not long… Something about a threesome woke me.” He says shyly.

“Well, Jisung, Channie and I wanna suck your cock… if you’ll let us.” You coo.

Jisung throws the sheet off his body to reveal his hard on. His dick is absolutely perfect. Chan wastes no time to climb over to him and nestle between his legs. You’ve seen Jisung suck Chan’s cock, but not Chan sucking Jisung’s. Your eyes widen. Chan takes Jisung in his hand and kitten licks the tip, then looks up at Jisung lovingly. You wonder if Chan gets rough Jisung like he did with you in the tub last night? Jisung let’s out a whimper as Chan licks him from the base to the tip. You feel yourself getting wet and you’re compelled to join in pleasuring Jisung. Your Jisung.

You position yourself down beside Chan and together you tend to Jisung. You both lick up the side of his shaft, your mouths meeting at the tip. You kiss messily with the head of Jisung’s dick still between you, your tongues and lips and Jisung’s cock all intertwined. You keep stroking his cock and Jisung is almost crying in pleasure. You continue like this, sloppily making out around Jisung’s penis, until Jisung interrupts you both.

“Channie…” Jisung sounds delirious.

“What is it, my love?” Chan replies, breaking from your kisses.

“I… I … wannna…” he stutters.

“You need to use words, Sungie.” Chan encourages.

“I wanna… can I… fuck you this time Channie?” his voice is small.

Your eyes grow wide and you look to Chan. “I so want to see that.” You whisper and bite your lip.

Chan smirks at you and looks down at Jisung “Of course you can fuck me. I love the way you feel inside me.”

Your vagina clenches at Chan’s words and at the thought of what is about to happen.

The men re-arrange themselves so Chan is laying on the bed and Jisung is kneeling between Chan’s legs.

“Can you pass me the lube, baby… bedside table.” Jisung instructs as he gives Chan’s cock some attention.

“Fuck, Jisung! God. Your mouth.” Chan chokes.

You watch as Jisung expertly works on prepping Chan. He is so confident with his lover, reading Chan’s body language and responses, and knowing when to add another finger. Chan’s abdominals tense and relax as the pleasure builds. He closes his eyes as his breath becomes more rapid and he sucks in his lip. Jisung’s eyes are hooded and full of a mix of admiration and lust, as he switches his gaze back and forth between Chan’s entrance and his face.

The pair look so in love and this feels so intimate. Part of you feels like maybe you shouldn’t be watching and you’re not sure what to do.

“Y/n,” Jisung says low “Kiss Chan for me.”

They haven’t forgotten about you. You lean in on all fours and take Chan into a kiss. He moans into your mouth and his hand finds your ass. He grips it hard making you yelp slightly and his fingers move to your soft wet folds. You crave for him to put his fingers inside you, and when he does, you let out a long low moan. The stretch feels like relief.

Chan peels his mouth away. “You’re cunt is addicted to being fucked isn’t it.” He breaths.

“Channie,” you moan. “You say such dirty things, you know that, right?” You sit up and take in the view in front of you. Jisung is lining his cock up to Chan’s entrance and you glance back at Chan’s needy expression. “I think you need something to keep that mouth of yours quiet.” You say to him as you climb over and straddle his face so you’re facing Jisung.

“Oh. God. Yes… sit on my face babygirl.” Chan growls and with an arm around each of your thighs he pulls you down over his face.

“That’s so fucking hot.” Jisung murmers.

Chan’s wet tongue devours you from below, as you watch Jisung slowly thrust into Chan. Chan moans and it sends vibrations through you, making you gasp. You lean forward to take hold of his cock. It’s rock hard and straining. Pre-cum oozes from the tip. Jisung strokes your hair affectionately and cups your face so you’re looking at him. The way he looks at you makes your heart melt and you smile. “You’re so pretty, y/n” he whispers.

You look down to watch Jisung’s beautiful cock slide in and out of Chan. It is the most graphic sight you’ve ever seen, and it almost makes you come right then. You breathe deeply trying to steady yourself and hold off uour rapidly approaching orgasm. You want this to last forever.

“Fuck, Channie. You take Jisung’s cock so well. I didn’t know you were such a cock slut.” You tease. “I thought you you were a dom. But judging by this scenario… I am not quite sure.”

“Y/n,” Jisung pants as his thrusts become more forceful. “I need you to ride Chan’s cock while I’m fucking him. Can you do that for me?”

You raise an eyebrow and look cheekily at Jisung before spinning yourself around so you’re facing Chan and straddling his torso. He looks so fucked out he can’t even speak. He’s just moaning and whining as Jisung slowly fucks him to death.

“That’s it baby. Back yourself up a little.” Jisung’s hands are on your hips, guiding you back to line up with Chan’s cock. Jisung holds the base steady as you lower yourself down, taking Chan all at once. You’re still sore from the day before, but you don’t care.

Chan let’s out a choked cry. “F—fuckkkkk!” he cries as you lean over him and push back against his cock.

Jisung wraps his hands around you, and leans over your back. His skin is sticky with sweat. You can feel his heart pounding. You feel safe. This is where you belong. Jisung’s breath is on your neck and you’re overwhelmed with emotion as you both fuck Chan together.

The reality of this precious moment hits you and so does your orgasm. Your body stiffens as the tension inside you snaps, making you see stars. “I’ve got you, baby.” Jisung whispers, as both their hands hold onto you as you ride out the orgasm.

You lift your head to look down at Chan who looks at you with blown out eyes before he captures you in a kiss.

Jisung grips your hips, digging his fingers into you as he directs you up and down Chan’s cock. “Fuck you should see the view I have right now.” He says in disbelief. You can only imagine what it must look like for Jisung, looking down to see his own cock fucking Chan, and Chan’s cock fucking you all at once.

Chan’s hands slide down your body to cup your ass, pulling the cheeks apart. It is then I feel something cold on your hold. Lube. Jisung massages a lubed finger against you, making you to gasp with pleasure. Then a finger slips inside. Very slowly. Very carefully. You seem to be lost in pleasure because before you know it, Jisung has two fingers inside of you. One of your favourite things is to have a finger or two in your ass while you’re being fucked, but you want more. You want both men inside you.

Then you feel it. Jisung’s cock against you.

“Have you ever done this before? Take two cocks at once?” Chan whispers. You shake your head. “Only one in the vagina and one in the mouth… I have had anal before…but I’m nervous.” You say wide eyed. He pulls me close.

“It’s okay. We’ve got you. Jisung’s really careful. He knows what to do.” Chan’s words alone make you relax. You trust them. You love them.

“Oh my God, baby. You look so inviting.” Hums Jisung as the tip of his cock prods you. “I know you’re going to take this so well.” He places a hand on your hip and guides his cock into you. “Good girl.”

“Oh… fu-” you gasp. You had not prepared yourself for the feeling of two penises inside you. Jisung inches in bit by bit, allowing you time to adjust before moving any further. The sensations are a mix of a burning pain, a stretching feeling, pleasure, need, relief. Every time Jisung stops, you whimper for more. Finally he is all the way inside.

“Ughh… you’re so tight around me.” Grunts Chan. “I need to fuck you so bad. Will you be a good girl and take it? Even if it hurts?” Chan’s words echo the previous night when he became aggressive in the sexiest way. Your vagina clenches around Chan’s cock. He smirks “You like that thought, hmm?”

“Hyung, I don’t want to hurt her?” Jisung pipes up.

“It’s okay, Jisung. I like it… want you to be rough with me… please.” You feel so fucking needy right now that you beg them to start fucking you.

The men start off slow, alternating turns in thrusting into you, then begin to quicken the pace. Moans, whimpers, grunts and cries fill the room as they fuck you faster, harder. Eventually, Jisung lays over your back, pressing you against Chan, and Chan’s arm wraps around both you and Jisung. You bury your head in Chan’s neck, making space for the pair to kiss each other. They start to time their thrusts so they are slamming into you at the same time. You come again, practically screaming this time, as you clench hard around their cocks.

“Oh fuck, did you feel that Ji?” Chan gasps.

Jisung nods “Oh my God, I’m gonna cum.” And with a few more thrusts you feel his release inside of you.

Chan finally lets go too. You don’t know how he’s even managed to hold off coming for this long. You feel him pulse as he ejaculates, for what seems like forever, deep inside your cunt.

But there is no time for rest. Jisung swiftly pulls out, making you shudder and lays on his back on the bed. “Quick. Baby. Sit on my face.” He says urgently. “Hurry! Before the cum seeps out.”

What? You’re taken by surprise at the request, but quickly do as he says, straddling his face the same as you did for Chan.

“Thats’s it baby. Good girl. Yes like that.” He pulls you down so his mouth is buried in your pussy ready to catch the leaking cum.

“Fuck! Jisung. That visual alone is making me hard again.” Chan exclaims. You turn to him to see him stroking his rapidly re-hardening cock. You can feel the cum leaking out of both holes and Jisung uses a finger to help bring down his own cum to mix with Chan’s. Your pussy is so sensitive and overstimulated, but Jisung isn’t about to let you go. It’s like he needs this to stay alive. He licks and sucks the cum that is leaking from you, the tip of his tongue dipping into your cunt to scoop out as much as possible. Fuck! It feels good though, and you start to grind down on Jisung’s face. Your gaze falls on his cock. It’s still rock hard, and you lean down to suck on it. Jisung moans into your pussy sending shock waves through me.

Chan shuffles down to sit next to Jisung’s hips so that their cocks are close to each other, and you alternate taking their dicks into my mouth. You take them as deep as you can, forcing yourself not to gag. You swirl your tongue around both their tips at the same time, whilst simultaneously stroking their cocks.

“Fuck.” They keep crying as you try to give them the best blow job of their lives. But an idea hits you. You pull off both cocks and look at Chan whose expression is one of agony. “I want to watch you fuck Jisung.”

————————

Chan lines his now generously lubed cock with Jisung’s ass.

“He doesn’t need prepping, he likes the stretch.” Chan explains, when he sees the shocked look on your face.

Jisung takes him so easily. Chan has the biggest dick you’ve ever seen, and seeing it disappearing and reappearing out of Jisung’s ass is amazing. He picks up the pace quickly and it isn’t long until he is pounding into Jisung brutally. They seem to be able to go forever. Jisung’s sounds of pleasure hit you in the pussy over and over and you feel delirious. You keep pumping Jisung’s cock until he is painting your breasts with cum.

“I love you Channie.” Cries Jisung as he comes.

“Fuck!!” cries Chan, Jisung’s words of love sending him over the edge, and he pulls out to paint your face in ropes of cum.

You all separate and lay on your backs panting and catching your breaths. That was the wildest sex you’d ever had. These men will be the death of you. Your mind is blank as you bask in post sex, post orgasm bliss. You’re brought back to reality when you feel a someone move between your legs, hands pushing your legs apart, a mouth landing on your pussy and another one on your mouth.

Jisung kisses you slowly and explores your mouth with his lips and tongue. The taste of him is a culmination of my wetness, both men’s cum, lube, and Jisung’s saliva. You wrap your arm around his neck and pull him deeper into the kiss. He melts into it, giving you everything you need in this moment.

You feel Chan’s tongue against you and you flinch. “Baby, I can’t take any more. I’m too sensitive. Can’t.” You beg him stop.

Chan grips your thighs harder and looks up. “You can take it. You are our good girl aren’t you?” he says sternly and you clench around nothing. You continue to protest.

“Shhh…. Baby.” Coos Jisung. He leans up and gazes at you, cupping your cheek and placing little pecks along your jaw. You feel as though Jisung is going to side with you and tell Chan that you need a break.

“Y/n, baby.” He starts again. “I know you can take just a little bit more.” He kisses your mouth. “You still need to feel what it’s like to have Channie fuck your ass.” There is eagerness in Jisung’s eyes, like you’re about to experience the best feeling in the world. Something that only Jisung and you get to share.

You stare at Jisung wide eyed. “But he’s so big! I’m not sure I -” Jisung puts two fingers to your mouth to hush you, while Chan digs two fingers into my pussy causing you to moan.

“Channie, she might really need a break.” Jisung decides and looks to Chan.

“Wait!” You interject. “No. I want to. I’m okay. I want to feel what its’ like.”

Jisung smiles. “Okay. But let me clean all this cum off you first.” He disappears into the bathroom.

“Are you sure, y/n?” Chan is at your side. It’s his turn to kiss you deeply. “Yes.” You whisper as you break the kiss.

“Okay, let’s try it like this.” He positions himself behind you, spoon position, and you feel his hardness against you as he caresses your waist and hips.

Jisung returns with a wet cloth and proceeds to wipe the drying cum off your chest and face. “Fuck, baby. I can’t believe your ours.” He grins as he settles down in front of you. You are now back to the position you were in when you woke this morning.

“I’m just going to lube up okay.” Chan says, before you feel his thick head push against you. You’re not sure how you’re going to manage after being fucked so much.

Jisung catches your expression and holds you close to him, turning himself so his body is facing yours. “You’re gonna love this y/n.” He promises you. “I’ve got you.” He whispers.

Chan stretches you and fills you slowly, bit by bit. And it feels incredible. You welcome everything that Chan has to give you, be it pleasure or pain. Fuck, part of you likes it even better when it hurts!

“Baby- fuuuu-… Oh fuck!” Chan bottoms out and immediately starts to fuck you. You can tell something has snapped in him again, like the evening before. It’s almost like you bring some wild beast of out him. You see a flicker of confusion on Jisung’s face, and you realise that Chan mustn't be this rough with him. You reach out and cup Jisung’s face. “It’s amazing.” You tell him, and his face softens.

Chan is grunting and growling as he slams into you over and over, but the more you look at Jisung, the more you want him too.

“Chan?” you say. Chan slows his movements.

“Yes, beautiful?” he kisses your sweat sheened neck.

“I want both of you again.”

“You’re addicted to both our cocks, yeah?” Chan chuckles. “Okay, let’s make that happen.” He holds onto you as he rolls onto his back, so he is slightly propped up against the headboard and you’re laying against him with his cock still inside you. Jisung is quick to hover over you, his dick ready to penetrate you. He folds your legs up against your chest, which makes Chan’s cock slip even deeper inside you. With one hand balanced on Chan’s shoulder, Jisung squeezes his cock into your very sensitive, very aroused, but very swollen, cunt. Jisung’s breath is strained as he pushes inside. “Fuck this is the tightest you’ve felt…” You hold onto his waist and pull him against you as best you can given the position you’re in.

You think they’re going to fuck you into oblivion, but instead they slow the pace right down. They move together in a tortuously slow rhythm, never picking up the pace, never thrusting any harder. Just rocking themselves gently inside of you.

Chan squeezes your neck gently whilst nuzzling into your shoulder and whispering how much he loves you. Jisung kisses you, breathing heavily into your mouth. He gathers some saliva and pushes it into your mouth, then continues to kiss you tenderly. Chan’s other hand caresses your body, oftentimes reaching up to hold Jisung against you.

You start to lose yourself to the moment, losing track of time and your surroundings. You no longer know where each of you begins or finishes. You don’t know who is causing what sensations, or who is making what sound.

You close your eyes and let yourself go as Chan and Jisung take you to some place you’ve never been before. A place just for the three of you. A place you know you will never want to leave.

The end.

A/n: as I was re editing this I realise some of the positions might have been a little far reaching… but it’s fiction, right!

I hope you enjoyed this series my loves.

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