#please i’m a typical marriage person

[urantisocialgay]

there is absolutely no wedding or proposal fics for Paige i’m highly upset

[eviesaurusrex]

ᴄʜᴏꜱᴇɴ ᴡɪꜱᴇʟʏ | ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ

Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary: 5 incidents in which Bucky gets proven how lucky he is to have found you.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: MDNI, fluff, mobster typical themes, illusions to violence, more fluff, cursing, talks of marriage, starting a family etc., pregnancy, phantom pain, allusions to smutty time, slight dirty talk, my Google Translator skills for all things Russian, children, not perfetly proof-read

author’s note: Am I in my mobster era now? (Please don't try to strangle me when I butchered the Russian parts. I had only Google Translator as my trusty helper ;_; Dividers are made by @enchanthings-a and @strangergraphics!

Russian translations:

малышка (malyshka)—baby

милая (milaya)—darling

“Every day I wake up next to you, I pray to the gods and thank them for the love you give me. Every day I spend with you is more than I deserve. Every day I call myself lucky that you love me back, my dear. I love you more than anything in the world, more than the world, more than life itself. You are my everything. Thank you for making me the happiest man on this planet.”

“Should I stop telling you how good you feel around me? How good you take me? How perfect you look, all filled up with my cock and already pregnant with my baby?”

Привет, папочка (Privet, papochka)—Hello daddy

Привет, солнышко (Privet, solnyshko)—Hello sunshine

The first incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was when James Buchanan Barnes—fearsome crime lord, bratva leader, king of New York City’s underworld—found himself in the aftermath of a crossfire after a deal gone south. His doctor had just arrived to check out the gunshot wounds littering his arm and shoulder, and in his opinion, everyone made too much of a fuss about it.

He was fine. He made it out with barely any scratches.

“Nine gunshots, only one bullet I have to remove. This is a new record, Mr. Barnes.”

… a few scratches; he had to give him that.

On the other hand, his entire left arm had been reduced to nothing but a pile of scrap metal, so perhaps Bucky had been hit rather badly if he took that into account. He wouldn’t because he had to be okay, invincible even. The world he was born into was a cruel one that reprimanded one’s weakness with downfall and despair, and he had to uphold the legacy that had been bestowed upon him the moment his father took his last dying breath in the same car crash that had taken his arm. He had people to protect—his associates, partners, workers, everyone that he considered friends or even family.

Topped by only one person, one woman, who sat above them all on a throne he had created for her right next to his. Not beneath him, not a step below—right fucking next to him.

Speaking of which… The commotion outside their bedroom sounded a lot like the whirlwind he deemed to be the love of his existence, and cursing above his breath, his eyes moved a second from the slightly opened door toward the doctor holding the single bullet between a pair of forceps.

“Don’t you dare step in my way.”

Her voice rushed like opium through his veins, making the mobster forget about the burning pain of holes inside his body.

“I can’t let you in there. Not now. The doctor is with him, you don’t want to see that,” Steve’s voice echoed through the hallway, probably stacked with high-towering security men. Just as high-towering as the blond was, and still, his girl did not show fear. No, not her. Never her.

A scoff was heard, and the physician beside him chuckled under his breath as he started to clean the wounds meticulously. Even Bucky showed a rare hint of emotion around other people than her when a grin parted his lips for a moment. “You’re his second. He is his doctor. I am his girlfriend. Think again if you want to continue standing in my way, Steve. I’m not above using brute force to get to him.”

Hearing that from a woman stopping not even close to all their eye levels would be laughable with any other person, but her? Everyone knew she would move heaven and hell in order to get wherever he was. He had learned this the hard way and would never dare leave her behind again, not when she demanded to tag along.

She really is a wonder.

Bucky wasn’t sure if he had spoken those words out loud, his mind starting to struggle with the blood loss and pain seeping deeper than necessary into him.

Shuffling before the door made the brunet open his eyes again. “Fucking hell, woman…” The hardwood door opened, and he could see the woman ruling his world without even starting to grasp the extent of her power over him, turning toward his second in command. “I hope you don’t kiss your mother with that mouth, Rogers,” she spoke sweetly before she finally turned, her eyes immediately finding him on their shared bed.

Worry creased her forehead, brows deeply furrowed, eyes jumping from his shoulder to his injured arm, then right to the one missing. Without another heartbeat, she rushed through the grand but still cozy room, showcasing her taste because Bucky had let her redecorate this entire fucking house as soon as she had agreed to move in with him—after much persuasion on his part. He wouldn’t have given a fuck if she would’ve decided to paint every single wall a screaming yellow if it would’ve made her happy.

“Hey, милая.” His raspy voice from all the shouting broke a bit at the signature endearment for her, and he wished to reach a hand out to her, but the lack of his arm was jarringly apparent. So all he could do was watch her carefully settling down onto her side of the bed, scooting over the mattress, a warm, soft hand cupping his cheek while the pad of her thumb started to caress his cheekbone. “Hey, love,” she returned the greeting with a smile, worried gaze flicking to Dr. Strange. “How bad is it? And don’t you dare try to sugarcoat me like Sam bloody tried on our way here. I do possess eyes, you see that, right?”

Dr. Strange nodded while preparing the stitching material. “I have removed one bullet from his shoulder. Nine shots in total. I’ve cleaned them and will stitch them as soon as the anesthetic takes effect.” Bucky could see her nodding at the doctor’s explanation and tried to nuzzle closer into the palm of her hand. “Milaya?” She finally looked down on him. “I’m okay, ‘promise. They busted m’arm, though.”

His words turned slurred, slowly but steadily, and he focused on her soft smile that was always entirely reserved for him and baby kittens. He could live with that sort of competition.

“We will talk later, but I promise I’ll take a look at your arm, and in case there isn’t anything left to save, I’ll make you a new one, James.” She pressed a gentle, loving kiss to his sweat-covered forehead. “Now relax, my love. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Her voice echoed in his ears when the drugs finally kicked in, clinging to the sound of her.

Yes, he had been smart enough to ignore his stupid rule of not letting anyone get closer than necessary. She proved him right every damn time.

The second incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was on a regular day in December. Snow fell softly outside the grand brownstone they had chosen to spend the holidays at rather than the house outside the city. His girl had wanted to finally spend Christmas in the buzzing city again, and he had ordered their things packed and moved within a blink of an eye.

Now, everyone enjoyed their little piece of heaven surrounded by their families. Yelena and Natasha had returned to Russia for the holidays, Steve spent time with his own wife, while Sam had decided to go south to see his parents and check in with a few associates while he was already there.

Meanwhile, the feared bratva mobster, leader of the darkest pits of New York’s underworld, watched his girlfriend-soon-to-be-fiancée add a few more pieces they had picked up at Tiffany’s today to their Christmas tree, humming to the soft tunes of an old record wafting through the living room. His blue eyes, usually so menacing and threatening, rested with a loving expression on the woman he had sworn to protect with his life, one arm thrown over the back of the comfy couch he had spent a fortune on—but his queen fell in love with it at first sight and couldn’t find anything better suiting. Not that she had to. The shining black Centurion Card had been pulled out of the inside pocket of his black suit jacket the second Bucky had seen that look on her face.

He would buy her anything in this world, spoiling her rotten until she’d drown in pretty things.

“I think we need more lights,” she stated in a mumble, almost to herself, before turning toward him. “Don’t we? We need more lights, yes.” And so it was decided, and he smiled at her turning back when she started to roam through the red holiday box to find the last remaining string of colorful fairy lights. “No, wait.” Lifting a dark brow, the man watched her reach for the small package he had eyed since they’ve returned instead, all wrapped prettily and neatly.

Scooting across the soft carpet toward where he sat, his girl smiled up at him, holding the small present out to him before folding her hands over his muscular thigh, waiting patiently. “It’s not your Christmas present, but I saw it and… and I needed to do this. To have something for our tree.”

Their first real tree as a couple. The past three years, they had been too busy during the holiday season, barely being at home, not to mention the little time they would’ve had to go out, find a tree, and decorate it, so it would be appreciated as it deserved. This year, however, Bucky craved the comforts of their home, and he wanted to start collecting memories like this.

He bent over to her, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, hand cupping her cheek tenderly, the little gift almost vanishing in the vastness of his hands. “Thank you, моя милая.” How in all the hells had he become so lucky in finding this woman who now grinned up at him with unabashed happiness? “Open it! Open it already!” And he obliged, feeling giddy himself as she almost bounced on her knees, unwrapping the small box and opening the lid to reveal a perfectly crafted snowflake ornament, a picture of them together in Central Park during the worst snowstorm the city had witnessed in over a decade placed inside the clear crystal. Their smiling faces, almost hidden behind scarves and beanies, angled to one another, her lips pressing a snow-filled kiss to the corner of his smiling lips.

It was perfect.

She was perfect.

Gods be damned, but in that moment, when his eyes found hers again, he felt the overwhelming urge to drop down on his knees and ask for a lifetime together. But he wouldn’t. He had it all planned out, and he used to stick to his plans. He was patient beyond compare, but not when it involved this woman before him. So instead of caving to this sensation, Bucky carefully placed the crystal snowflake onto the coffee table in front of him and pulled his girl up into his lap in one smooth motion, wrapping her in his strong arms, fingers—both flesh and metal—tangling in soft strands of hair or gripping the soft black fabric of the hoodie she wore which once belonged to him.

“Каждый день я просыпаюсь рядом с тобой, молюсь богам и благодарю их за любовь, которую ты мне даришь. Каждый день, который я провожу с тобой, больше, чем я заслуживаю. Каждый день я называю себя счастливчиком, что ты любишь меня в ответ, моя дорогая. Я люблю тебя больше всего на свете, больше мира, больше самой жизни. Ты — мое все. Спасибо, что сделал меня самым счастливым человеком на этой планете, малышка,” Bucky rasped in Russian with his forehead pressed to hers and eyes intimately locked, watching the shy smile he loved so dearly spreading on her lips and making her eyes twinkle.

“I don’t know if you have insulted me just now, proclaimed your undying love for humble me, or started the dirty talk earlier than usual, but either way, I don’t mind.” Her fingers wrapped around his chin to pull his face closer to hers, lips touching when she added in a breathless whisper, “It sounded hot, so keep talking dirty to me, love.”

Giggling, his girl accepted the tender kisses of chapped lips to her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, her lips. He felt the uncomfortable pull on his skin again when Bucky smiled at her, his split lip still not entirely healed after a punch he couldn’t dodge in time. Under her care, it will have vanished until next week when the photographer planned to take a few pictures for their first Christmas postcards.

Bucky still struggled to grasp how his life had turned in that particular manner. He never thought he’d be one for domesticity and familiar bliss, but with her?

He was all in.

The third incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was when James Buchanan Barnes, invincible mob boss, returned home in the dead of night in a frantic temper, his entourage strolling behind him, accepting his orders with grave faces and solemn nods.

“Don’t let him out of your fucking sight. Track him as soon as he leaves his godforsaken home, track him inside his own walls, hell, track when he takes a piss. I don’t fucking care!” His booming voice echoed through the foyer, and with another deep growl, he handed his weapons to Sam; two remained in the holster, hugging his broad shoulders. He wouldn’t take them off, not until the threat was decimated under his foot. “We’ll do a 24/7 surveillance on him, boss. He won’t come near her,” Steve promised, knowing damn well what would happen to all of their heads if they couldn’t protect her.

Bucky bared his teeth in disgust. “You better not fuck this up, Steve.” This would be his first and only warning, and the blond knew that, so he nodded and retreated into his office, knowing damn well that sleep would be nothing but a pleasant memory for a while—he wouldn’t be alone, though. Everyone knew how their boss got when his queen was threatened by others. Those threats had already started to grow in numbers as soon as the underworld learned of their engagement, and outsiders trying everything to get in and on good graces with certain families smelled a quick victory.

How wrong they were in those foolish assumptions.

Sam watched his boss almost anxiously while he desperately tried to cool off, fists pressed against the pretty surface of a pretty sideboard she had most definitely chosen.

“I will kill him. I’ll kill them all if I have to.”

At Bucky’s deep rumble, Sam could only hum in agreement. He would be right at his back, killing all who wanted to harm anyone he cared for, especially those inside this building.

“I could reach out to our associates in Louisiana, get some more backup and gunpower. There’s this kid who’s a marvel with tech. Maybe he can come up with a discreet solution for the in-house surveillance,” Sam suggested, knowing damn well how excited Parker would be when he finally allowed him to tag along, currently bored out of his brilliant mind at college. Bucky looked up and over his shoulder, icy blue eyes resting on one of his best men—and friend. But the creaking above their heads let him pause in his answer, and both men stared up the stairs, knowing who eavesdropped at the railing.

Bucky sighed deeply. “We need to work on your stealth skills, малышка,” he spoke up and waited for her steps to pick up and for her to shuffle down the stairs. She did in a pair of cozy yoga pants, a large hoodie hanging on her form—the one he had worn before changing into his suit this morning—and fluffy socks with reindeer and candy canes printed all over them, her hair wrapped in a messy bun on the top of her head, strands framing her face. In her arms throned a king amongst pets, and white fur littered the soft fabric of his hoodie where she held Alpine close to her chest.

His heart ached at the sight of her in the best possible way.

Her eyes wide with worry—not for herself, but for him and all his men—jumped between Sam and himself as she reached the second to last step and waited there.

“I didn’t mean to, but… I heard voices and thought you’d come home, but then I heard everyone talking and it was kind of too late to go back to bed anyway, so I figured I could… learn a bit.” Bucky started softly shaking his head, his outgrowing hair tickling his cheeks. “You meant eavesdropping, малышка. That’s the word you’re looking for here,” he deadpanned, and one corner of his mouth slightly lifted at the sound of her quiet laugh, her fingers comfortingly petting the white fluff ball currently purring at the attention and headbutting her hand for more.

With another sigh, he stepped up to the stairs, raising his gaze to his all-ruling queen, and he felt the tension in his shoulders slightly disappear when her hand came up to his neck and rested there comfortingly, fingers playing with the soft strands of his dark hair. “I’ll be alright, James,” she whispered, and he wasn’t sure how she could say that with such certainty when not even he felt so sure. “We’ll be alright, I just know it. Nothing and no one will keep me from you, from becoming your wife and living a very happy life with the man I love more than anything in this world, giving him the cutest fur babies and children the world has ever seen.” Bucky sucked in a breath, and after gently putting down Alpine, he pulled his soon-to-be wife in a bone-crushing hug, wrapping her legs around his hips with ease. “We will live until we turn old and grey and can look back at all the memories we made along the way, annoying our children and grandkids with endless, embarrassing stories,” she continued to whisper against the soft, tattooed skin of his neck and yes, he could see all that and more, too.

It was easy with her to picture this picture-perfect life—and he would do anything to make it a reality. He wouldn’t stop at murder and anarchy, not when it came to her.

So when he slightly turned to Sam with his woman in his arms, ready to put her back to bed, he only needed to mouth the words, and it was done.

Do it.

The fourth incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was during one of those forsaken nights.

He woke with a startle and a groan escaping him involuntarily, the dark bedroom embracing him, a soft, warm body tucked into the expanse of his back, slow breathing fanning across his heated skin. His hand shot up with another groan leaving him, cupping the stump where once had been an arm, feeling the same agonizing pain he had felt in that car all those years ago, almost bleeding to death after a rivaling family had tried to kill them all off.

Unfortunately, he had survived—and the revenge had been brutal the moment he had recovered enough to go on a killing spree.

Trying to breathe through the crashing sensations, Bucky tried to move as quietly and carefully as possible, not wanting to wake the woman sleeping peacefully beside him because she needed all the rest she could humanely get. But the pain was blinding, the feeling of warm blood flowing down his skin so real, he could’ve sworn there was still an arm to lose, and his fucking legs were still tangled in the damn blanket!

With a frustrated huff, the mobster tried to just roll out of bed in a desperate attempt, not minding falling face-first to the floor, but the blanket didn’t budge, and suddenly, an arm snaked across his waist, and a warm hand rested on his muscular abdomen.

“D’not go…”

The sleepy mumble pierced through the agony, and usually, Bucky always obliged to his wife’s every demand, but not now. Not this time. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t crumble in front of her. She needed him to be strong and capable. He had to protect her and the little plum. He couldn’t show weakness, not even in the comforts of their own home. Word would get out, the pit of New York City would smell blood, they would come and kill her in front of his very eyes, make him watch when the life would vanish from her breathtaking eyes, taunting him, before they would end his life as well, releasing him into the bliss of afterlife where he would search for her, and—….

“Bucky? What’s wrong?”

Her voice, now sounding more awake and aware, startled and pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts, and he could feel the mattress dip and move when she sat up and scooted closer to him. “Hey…” A soothing hand started to rub over his back. “Talk to me, love. C’mon, handsome, I can only help when I know what’s bothering you to such an unholy hour.” Her teasing made him almost smile—almost. But the pain returned in full force, and his hand gripped his shoulder even tighter.

“Phantom pain. It’s nothing I can’t handle, malyshka. Go back to sleep, you need it,” he rumbled quietly, his legs finally escaping the trap that was their blanket, and the man sat up, feet hitting the floor. He attempted to get up in order to leave her to the quietness of their room, but his wife had nothing the like on her mind. She held him back and scooted off the bed. “Stay. I’ll be right back.” Blinking into the dim light of her bedside table, he reached for her and tried to get up. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Go back to—”

She shushed him gently and pressed a finger to his lips. “I said Stay. I mean it.” With that, his woman granted him a serious glance before she patted into the adjacent bathroom, one hand cradling her already quite prominent bump, and all Bucky could hear was rummaging sounds in their cabinets and a quiet mumbling.

“Your papa is a handful sometimes, little one. Prepare yourself because I need you in my corner, okay? Okay.”

Smiling through the irritating pain, the mobster waited for her to return and watched her closely when she finally left the bathroom and patted back to their bed, a bottle of lotion in her hand. “You think you need the mirror, love?” Bucky glanced at the full-length mirror in their walk-in closet shrouded in darkness and decided with a soft shake of his head. “Maybe later if it’s not getting any better,” he mumbled in defeat, accepting the loving kisses pressed to his right temple and lips. “Just let me know, yeah?” He nodded at her request, and blue eyes watched her like a hawk when she settled right next to him, on the side of his missing arm, a squirt of lotion already between her soft hands warming it up.

“I told you to wake me up if it’s happening again,” his wife scolded him quietly, her incredible hands massaging the hurting stump of his shoulder. At first, it hurt like hell, but the more she kneaded and caressed, the more bearable it got. “You need your rest, milaya,” he returned with a lingering glance down her form, eyes equally heavy with worry and love when they settled on the little bump he had grown to love so dearly, it almost hurt.

Bucky felt her eyes on him in return and opened his arm when she stopped what she was doing to climb into his inviting lap, straddling him comfortably. Taking his hand into hers, she pushed the warm skin of her husband under his shirt she wore to sleep and placed his palm right on top of the soft curve before continuing.

“Not more than you need it, too. You’re running the mob empire, not me.” Her voice reminded him softly, and he let his forehead fall onto her shoulder, eyes closed, thumb caressing the warm skin of her bump, hoping, praying, he would feel something, anything. But according to all the books he had read so far, it would take a few more weeks until he could feel the slight movements their child did inside his wife. “And you’re growing a whole fucking human,” Bucky returned and got shushed again. “Watch your language, Barnes. I don’t want their first word to be anything obscene.”

But she couldn’t fool him. He heard her smile in the scolding.

A comfortable silence settled between them, then, reminding Bucky yet again why he had felt so good around her the second she had walked into that room in the hospital, only raising a brow at the sight of six buffed men clad in black suits, armed with more guns than one human could possibly need, and him sitting in the middle of it all—disheveled, still hurting, ice cold. She had smiled, wearing those ridiculous blue scrubs, and he had spotted a splash of blood on her light grey sneakers when she had come closer, pointing it out in almost something resembling disgust. Still, she only had rolled her pretty eyes at the pitiful attempt of an insult.

She hadn’t given a single fuck about those intimidating men—including him—all towering multiple heads above her, tattooed, guns always visible, the rough Russian language floating through the room occasionally. And he had respected her for that, even though he didn’t bother to be nice at first. In hindsight, Bucky would’ve earned a beating from his mother if she had been still alive. She had raised him better than treating a beautiful, kind, intelligent, and compassionate woman like he had initially treated her. But after a while, Bucky had felt how she had snaked her way into his thoughts, catching himself repeatedly thinking about her over the course of his day, starting to anticipate the next appointment to get his prosthetic measured, built, and adjusted, always looking forward to seeing her face.

She hadn’t given a flying fuck either when he finally revealed who he was and what he did, only cocking her head to the side in question and asking him, “Will you or one of your guys kill me after our time is over?” And when he had shook his head, denying those thoughts, she had smiled brightly, before turning back to the prosthetic arm she had crafted for him. “Then we don’t have a problem. Everyone has to earn their money somehow, James.” That was also the first time anyone had called him by that name since his parents had died, and he had fallen for her right then and there, ready to kneel at her feet and surer as hell that he would make her his queen.

“Don’t count on that, malyshka. Everyone around here is using filthy language, and do I need to remind you of certain… situations where the little plum currently has to listen in? Or do you want me to stop? Мне перестать говорить тебе, как хорошо ты себя чувствуешь рядом со мной? Как хорошо ты меня принимаешь? Как идеально ты выглядишь, вся заполненная моим членом и уже беременная моим ребенком?” He felt the pain slowly but steadily subside under her knowing and well-versed hands, feeling them stop in their magic as the huskily whispered Russian words flowed effortlessly over his lips, feeling her squirm in his lap.

Leaning slightly back in order to have a better look at his face, his wife bit her lower lip, making now the feared bratva leader squirm underneath her, his hand protectively pressed into her lower back, not daring to let her fall off of him. “You are a very evil man, James Barnes,” she hummed with almost a purring edge to her voice, making him grin as cocky as possible. “You married the worst of the bunch, malyshka—and you like it. You can’t hide it, not from me, never from me. Not when I’m balls-deep it that deliciously tight…—” Her lips pressing against his made him moan deep in his throat and stop taking altogether. Forgotten was the pain of the past. It still bothered him, somewhere in the back of his mind, but her scent, her taste, the feeling of his wife against him made him forget about it.

The past was the past, and now, only the present and the future held importance to him.

Lifting her with one arm with ease, the mobster carefully moved her to the middle of their bed, hovering above her and watching her pretty face with a loving gaze. “You’re my everything,” he dared to whisper. “You both are.” He felt her hands cupping his face tenderly as if he wasn’t the killer everyone feared across the East Coast as if he was something precious even though he was broken beyond repair. “And you are ours, Bucky.” She kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his lips, and his left shoulder without disgust, without apprehension, but with deeply felt love.

As if he was perfect the way he was.

The fifth incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was after a business trip to Sicily that had taken too long for his liking, even though the business was good and the newly knitted connections invaluable. But it had made him leave his family for far too long than humanly tolerable, not even the many FaceTime calls had eased the sting in his heart.

“Make sure Enzo receives the gift for his wife and put a little something for him inside as well. Perhaps the Yamazaki Single Malt?” The 55-year-old whisky sure would make a fine gift for the young leader of the Sicilian Mafia, remembering an evening here and there when both men had shared a glass of scotch.

Steve walked beside him as they left the car and made their way over the sidewalk and behind the gate of the old brownstone in the best area in New York City. The cherry trees along the road were in full bloom, and the spring breeze was pleasant enough that the Barnes considered taking them all out for a day in Central Park. Work could wait after two weeks away from them. “Sure thing, Buck. I’ll call Stark to get a bottle,” the blond nodded and opened the door for his boss after walking up the stairs before entering the family home as well, happy sounds wafting through the air already.

Bucky visibly relaxed when he heard his family without a phone between them and handed Steve the concealed guns. They had made a rule for the house, and everyone obliged happily because everyone had been wrapped around their little fingers since the day they were born.

And no one would dare to go against Mrs. Barnes.

“I don’t want to be disturbed for the next couple of weeks, so handle everything and only bother me with situations that need my explicit attention,” was the last order the mobster could get out before the sound of small feet erupted from the living room and barreling toward the foyer.

“Papa!”

“Dada! No, waits for meeee! Annie, pwease! Mommyyyy!”

Bucky laughed as his eldest rounded the corner in full sprint, her little legs carrying her as fast they could, and the tall brunet crouched down to catch her little body. The little girl, resembling so much his wife, looked at his face with bright eyes, hands pressing against his cheeks and squishing them with an adorable chuckle.

“Привет, папочка,” she greeted him shyly, stumbling over her sounds and pronunciations, but Bucky kissed her little cheeks with such enthusiasm that her insecurities vanished in an instant. “Привет, солнышко,” the father returned with a kiss to her forehead and watched the questioning expression morphing onto his daughter’s face. Her tongue poked out between her lips, eyes wandering to the ceiling, brows drawn together in concentration—just like his wife. But then, she looked at him again, leaning closer as if she wanted to conspire with him. “What does that mean, papa? Yelena didn’t teach me that word yet,” she whispered, and Bucky laughed again, feeling almost crushed by the happiness he felt at that moment. “It means sunshine, my sunshine.” It made her smile as brightly as the sun outside the windows before she waved at Steve. “Hi, Uncle Stevie. You can go now. Papa is mine; you can have him back in… a long time.”

Nodding to underline her case, the almost six-year-old looked expectantly at his second in command, and Bucky turned with her still in his arms, looking just as expectantly as her. “You heard the little lady, Steve. Off you go,” he teased, and the blond shook his head with a smile, bowing before them. “As you wish, Princess Anastasia.” The girl huffed and showed the blond giant her tongue. “It’s Anya, Uncle Stevie! You always forget!” Chuckling, Steve took her hand and shook it apologetically. “You are right; my apologies, princess. Enjoy your time with your father.”

And with that, he left for his office, leaving the two in the foyer when they heard another set of steps.

“Anya, next time, wait for your brother, please,” Mrs. Barnes scolded the little girl gently, a smile on her lips and the little boy on her arm. His son nodded, holding his stuffed bunny at its long ears. “Yesh, waits for me, Annie! Dada!” More excitement echoed through the home as the small boy started to wiggle in her arms, and Bucky rushed over to her, catching Elijah before he could plop out of her embrace. “Careful, little troublemaker,” he laughed and held him with his other arm, hearing Anya scoff quietly. He threw his wife a questioning look, and in return, she only rolled her eyes at their children, softly shaking her head and taking Anya to her.

“They had a… falling out earlier.” Anya scoffed again as if her mother understated the entire ordeal, wanting to be put back on her feet, and hugged her mother’s hips closely. Elijah leaned his head against Bucky’s shoulder, bunny pressed tightly into his chest, watching his sister. “He ruined my homework! Miss Pepper said she’s suuuuuper excited for my solar system model, and then, papa, Eli just banged his stupid bunny on it!” Angry tears gathered in her eyes, almost rolling down her pretty face. His youngest looked positively undisturbed as he watched his sister unraveling over her homework, and Bucky sighed.

“Bunny s’not shtupid. Annie’s plant-… plants-… planets! Annie’s planets looks ugly, dada. Not pretty like mommy,” Elijah stated with confidence, making the tears finally spill over Anya’s cheeks. “I hate you! You’re not my little brother anymore!” And with that, the little girl pulled away from the soothing hands of her mother, almost tumbling over the stairs as she ran upstairs, a loud bang echoing through the house when she closed her door with force.

Another sigh escaped Bucky and his wife alike, both parents looking down at their little boy who started to chew on his bunny’s ear. “Honey, that wasn’t very nice to say,” she reprimanded her son and took him from Bucky when he stretched his little chubby arms toward his mother, keeping a hand on his little back. “Annie is sads?” She nodded and kissed the dark mob of hair her son had inherited from his father, just like the blue of his eyes. “She’s upset, baby, yes. We will give her a moment to calm down before we’re going upstairs to apologize, yes?”

Elijah nodded with tears in his eyes, and the father couldn’t hold back, so he gently cupped his youngest head and pressed a lingering kiss onto the wild dark curls. “Can me and bunny asks Miss Melina fors cookies?” Smiling, she pressed a kiss to his cheek before putting him onto his small feet. “But only one, baby!” He was already on his way, chanting for cookies.

In an instant, Bucky pulled his wife into his arms, capturing her lips with his, a rumbling moan escaping him at the taste and feel of her. “Two fucking weeks are too long, malyshka,” he stated with another lingering kiss, fingers tangled in her hair. “Tell me about it. Try to manage two kids who switch between being the bestes of friends and each other’s enemy number one multiple times a day.” Taking her in more closely, Bucky could see the dark circles under her eyes and the tight muscles around her lips. His thumb swept across the dark circles, and his lips followed to kiss them better. “I’m so sorry, milaya,” he murmured with another kiss to her forehead and felt her hand hitting him against the back of his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. You had to be there, and we had to stay here with school for Anya and Eli’s first day at kindergarten. We managed. I wouldn’t mind if you take over bedtime duty for a while, though.”

Bucky grinned happily at the prospect of spending time with his kids, feeling the love only a father could feel coursing through his body. “Of course, love. We’ll get you something nice on our stroll over Fifth and let the kids play in Central Park while you enjoy a book, alright? I’ll pick up a few new bedtime stories as well, so you will not even be remotely needed and can enjoy bath after bath. Would that make my wife happy?” Sighing, she leaned heavily against him, gathering strength through his strong body supporting the weight resting on her shoulders during the worst and most exhausting days—which they have had many in the past two weeks. “Sounds lovely. But don’t you dare spend a fortune on me again!” Her warning was unnecessary because Bucky would spend a fortune on his wonderful wife, and she knew that as well. “Please,” he chuckled and pressed another heated kiss to her lips, his fingers cupping her chin tenderly. “I’ll buy whatever you want, milaya. Perhaps we could even get something for us.”

He loved his wife in pretty clothes, but he loved her especially dearly in pretty lingerie he had no qualm of ripping off her gorgeous body the second she’d appear before him, reducing the masterfully crafted pieces to lacy shreds on their bedroom floor. The first time he did that, he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to pull her to bed, receiving a scolding he had gotten the last time, probably as a boy. She had been royally pissed at his antics, mourning the pretty set she had bought for their first night together. The next day, she received a delivery of all the pieces she had eyed at the shops and saved online, making her closet filled with more lingerie than a regular woman would need in her entire life.

Only that she wasn’t a regular woman with a regular man. He could buy her anything and in any quantity possible, so he wasn’t one to hold back when the urge to see this goddess of a woman naked made him growl and impatient—and even a tad jealous of the fabric touching her skin instead of his hands and lips.

“You are the worst of the bunch, Barnes. Seriously.” Exasperated, she looked up at him, her cheeks warming under his touch, and Bucky nodded with a serious expression. “I am insatiable when it comes to you, malyshka. And you thrive on the power you have over me.” Eye-rolling, she shook her head again, winding out of his arms and smacking his ass with a teasing smile. “Stop being a seventeen year old horndog and move your sexy backside up to your daughter. She’ll listen to you more than me after two weeks filled with my constant presence. I’ll see what I can save from her project, and stopping Elijah from munching on too many cookies…”

The last part was barely a mumble, already distracted by whatever thought wandered through her beautiful mind, and Bucky watched her retreating back with a smile before shrugging out of his suit jacket. Throwing it over the stair railing, he made his way to his eldest’s room, softly knocking at the door littered with pictures and posters of her favorite animals and characters—he could even see the remnants of a glitter pen—and knew how lucky he could count himself when he was allowed to enter his sunshine’s room.

He had the perfect wife, two healthy, wonderful children, and had found happiness despite the way his life had taken.

He had indeed chosen wisely.

author's note: Tysm for reading my silly little writing. As usual: likes, reblogs, and comments are so much appreciated! I love to read your thoughts <3

[ryiju-muunie]

Could you do cult leader! geto I’m so feral for this like he doesn’t care about his followers but reader is just so pretty and he wants to make her his lover for the whole cult to see PLS IM FERAL N I LOVE YOUR WRITING <3

Red Ink

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/cult leader!Suguru Geto Warnings: angst, pining, slowish burn not really, selling and technically kidnapping, the reader has a sad backstory KAY [implied physical abuse], age gap [Geto is 37 and reader is 24], forbidden romance, im gonna make the reader sassy dx, alternate AU where Geto is a cult leader but it's set in more of an ancient time YOULL SEE [kind of like my happy marriage], bathtub masturbation, bathtub sex, sexual tension, cumshot [breasts], masochist!Suguru Geto, hair pulling, Word count: 7221 DESC: Suguru Geto never thought about giving a monkey who couldn't wield jujutsu a chance ... until he met you.

Hiii!!! I just got sick so please be patient my posts might get spaced out for a bit until I recover but I really like this! I took a few [A LOT] creative liberties when writing :3

If you want a guarantee I will write and post your request in a timely fashion head over to my Ko-Fi!

Every morning it was the same routine. Suguru would wake up at 7:45 AM every morning to an empty bed, with the lights a dull orange color. They hung from the room's corners and lit up just enough to let him peer around. He slowly forced himself off the squeaky mattress, becoming accustomed to the sensation of the cold wood against his bare feet. A breath of air flowed through his nose as his hand lazily trailed through his robes, hanging in his large closet. There were so many to choose from, all almost the same. Although, some details were different. Blue trim vs yellow, or a red pattern vs green. In all honesty, he never cared much about his appearance. As long as he wouldn’t have to leave, he didn’t mind his daughters or servants doing the shopping for him. Maybe that’s why the leader's hair was too long to manage, so he would lazily put half of it up in a semi-orderly bun. 

All of these people, and Suguru Geto was completely and utterly alone. He had no one who understood why he decided to become the leader of the Star Religious group so young, almost twenty years ago, at the ripe age of seventeen. All of his innocence was lost at such an age that he could feel a bitter taste rising on the back of his tongue. Bile. The taste of regret. Sometimes he looked out the window to some of the convent’s children playing in the courtyard, and he wished he had found a partner to aid him on his journey. No one ever caught his eye, no one ever piqued his interest. No one like … 

Suguru shook his head and blinked a few times, sending himself out of an impending spiral and instead leaving it for another day. He looked over to his robes, where his hand clung to his signature robe, yellow trim with a green pattern sewn to the front. There was something so comforting about this robe. Maybe because it was the first one ever made for him by his monkey servants, the only monkeys he’d ever let near his person without choosing to disinfect himself afterward. They knew their place in society and acted accordingly. The only monkeys he could tolerate. 

Another sound took him out of his thoughts, a knock on the door. He turned his head, “Come in,” was all he had to rasp. His voice was naturally soft, as he didn’t typically raise it past a whisper to most. Only when Suguru was truly enraged would he begin to scream and yell at those useless monkeys… but that was becoming rare now.

A tuft of pink hair appeared from the door as it opened, showing his secretary Manami. She strolled in as if she owned the room, opting to close the door with a push to her hip. The male watched her with an indifferent gaze as she tapped the rickety clipboard in her hand, “I found you a personal servant.”

“Personal servant? Why would I need that? I’m capable of dressing myself, you know,” as Suguru spoke he began to pull at his sheer robe, the one he slept in. His secretary looked up to the ceiling, avoiding any and all contact with his body as she possibly could. 

She tapped a pen along the rim of the clipboard as she continued, “Someone to make the bed and cut your hair. It’s getting too long, sir.” Manami swiftly raised her hand and pointed to him with the pen, still avoiding his body with her eyes up. He raised an eyebrow at her, shrugging off the robe and setting it neatly on his bed. His jaw flexed as he clenched it, in thought. Would the leader of the Star Religious group need a personal maid to do every little thing he needed? I mean, it sounded appealing to have a monkey fetch him any useless thing he requested. Watching them spread themselves thin trying to appease him. His lips pulled together in a silent smile at that thought.

“What’s this servant's credentials?” Suguru pulled his robe off the hanger and blew on it lightly, ridding it of the dust it had collected throughout the week it had been since he wore it. 

“Well she’s about 24, so past any good age to get married off,” she listed off, looking down at her clipboard as she spoke, “She’s worked in several different houses as a housekeeper and nanny, but she’s been let go for differing reasons.”

Geto slid on his robe and adjusted it until it fell across his muscular body, “Fired? Was she unruly or perhaps a pain in the ass?” A humorous tone took to his voice and Manami laughed in response, handing him the clipboard so he could see for himself. In a subtle sprawl, it wrote your name. It was interesting as he perused down the paper, stopping at the section where it detailed how you were let go: “Fired for talking back” and “Inappropriate conduct” happened to be recurring on the list, making the leader quirk an eyebrow. The last time he had anyone with some sense of personality was ages ago, as I previously stated my guy doesn’t raise his voice often. “What does she look like?” He asked, handing the clipboard back to the woman.

“I dunno. Why? Finally over your ex, Sugruuuuuuu?” Manami teased, a grin appearing on her face. However, it quickly disappeared as soon as he shot her a warning glare. Never bring up that name. Even edging around the subject, do not bring it up. Every servant and every secretary knew the leader’s past was a delicate subject. Never bring it up. 

She cleared her throat and continued, “Her parents are the ones using her for labor money. We can undercharge them for an old hag and get full labor! ‘Course, she’d have to live here… but I can situate that,” she waved a hand in the air to dismiss that train of thought, “I think it’ll be good for you, sir. Maybe you can get some release.”

She did it that time. Suguru’s eyes shot up to hers and gave her a look that would have sent anyone running. Manami apologized instantly, bowing her head. Everyone also knew of their Emperor’s lack of sexual lovers, and his constant sexual frustrations. He had never been able to fully relieve himself, for well over twelve years. There was a pent-up hunger burning inside him and no one could satiate it no matter how much he tried.

“Hire her. I wish to get acquainted with my new personal servant.”

Your personality had always bounced back even in the face of adversity, maybe that’s why every household you’ve ever worked for had fired you. Life wasn’t easy for someone like you, in a family who didn’t prioritize you. All they wanted were sons and they were blessed with a daughter who couldn’t even marry, you were a disgrace. So they decided they would use you for money if they could, milking you for every cent you were worth. However, you couldn’t keep a job. 

You started well-behaved and quiet, but soon the snippy comments would start. Then soon, you’d be making a scene, disrespectfully calling out your bosses for their treatment in a very public manner. Then they’d fire you instantly, making your family angry once more. It was a vicious cycle they couldn’t snap you from. You were never going to change until your father had announced you had been sold. 

The Star Religious group had agreed to your purchase, giving your family a sum of money they hadn’t seen in their entire lifetime. It was enough for them to skip town and leave you in your own abandoned house. Rough. Of course, that money wouldn’t hold them afloat forever, but they didn’t realize it at the time. All you could think about was the fact you had been abandoned by the people you had been blessed to, the people who said they loved you. 

You were never going to change until that day.

There was no use in fighting, because what happened after this? You’d have no one to back you up or a roof to sleep under. This time… you weren’t going to fuck it up. A carriage arrived at your vacant lot a day after your parents announced you were sold, leaving you alone with your thoughts. In a side bag were two kimonos, a compact, and a hair clip. You opened your rickety front door and peered over at the carriage with wide eyes. Normally a comment would fly out of your mouth, but you couldn’t even will yourself to speak. You didn’t have the will or energy to do anything more than sit and stare like a rock before a woman came out of it. 

She was beautiful, with short pink hair and a purple dress. She shouted your name and clasped her hands together in front of her stomach, “Oh he’s going to like you very well. Sir Geto has a thing for submissive women.” 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to laugh in her face and contradict her statement, nodding lifelessly, “I am grateful for this opportunity, Ms.” 

“Ms. Manami Suda to you!” She grinned, stepping aside to let you walk inside the carriage. It was a dull red on the outside and the same interior-wise, nothing special. You didn’t note the patterns on the inner walls or how the cushion felt. In all honesty, you didn’t care. Even though it was mid-day, you found yourself fantasizing about sleeping in a cot that wasn’t made of pure shit material, maybe even with a pillow. 

The carriage ride was quiet, aside from the occasional comment from Manami about how you didn’t have the monkey smell. Oh, that’s right… they were Jujutsu Sorcerers. You or anyone in your family for that matter were not blessed with the sorcerer gene, so you truly didn’t understand what it meant. Instead of speaking you nodded politely and let a fake small smile grace your lips, as if you were actually listening to her. The countryside was beautiful, the ride taking you deep into the middle of nowhere. Then you saw it, large buildings all coupled together to create a convent. They were tan with brown bamboo roofs, slanted to a point on the top. Incredibly gorgeous. You had always fantasized about building your own buildings one day, admiring from afar. But you weren’t built for that lifestyle. 

It was only ever going to be a fantasy for you it seemed.

The two of you entered the convent in silence, taking in the architecture. It was gorgeous, something you had seen from far away but never dared to venture to up close. You resisted so many urges to run your hand along the columns of the outdoor hallways that lined the outdoor courtyard in the center, where many of the children played. They all looked happy and free, something you found yourself envying.

“Lord Geto is right this way,” Manami spoke eagerly, walking ahead of you and motioning around, “Get used to it kid, you’ll be spending a lot of time here,” she then glanced back at you, a smile branding her lips, “Don’t get smart.” To her, she didn’t think that you were the same girl with the smart mouth that had been let go so many times. In some ways, you weren’t the same. You were so completely and utterly done with your life you couldn’t bring yourself to even have an ounce of personality you once did.

The rest of the walk was quiet before she turned on her heels to the right and motioned to a large door. It was red, with golden trim around the edges. You couldn’t see inside but you knew exactly what lay behind those doors. Manami took your bag from you politely and knocked a few times on the door, hearing some shuffling and seeing them open. Two guards opened the door, their faces stone-cold and stoic. They were almost scary looking, but nothing prepared you for the man who was behind them. He sat on a mound of pillows, head resting in his palm, and his eyes glued to you. In every sense of the word he was gorgeous, you had never seen anyone that beautiful. And he could say the same about you.

Suguru’s eyes widened just a tad as he took in your person. You were beautiful, looking hand-carved from a cloud by the finest god, wine drunk on nothing but your beauty alone. How could this be? No non-sorcerer should have ever made him stare for longer than a few seconds. Manami noticed, hell, everyone but you noticed. He blinked once, then twice, pulling him out of the trace you had put over him, a delicate smile gracing his lips. He spoke your name and used his free hand to beckon you over.

You did as you were told, walking into the room silently. But you hadn’t seen the rug placed before you or the corner of that small table. You found yourself hitting the side of the table with your right ankle, then tripping forward, completely slipping due to the rug. It was within seconds you were face down to the ground, letting out an astonished gasp. That was it. You had done it. You had tripped in front of the most notorious non-sorcerer-hating Sorcerer in the entire country. You had made a complete and utter fool of yourself and that was going to be the end of your life. A sad and embarrassed blush filled your cheeks and hollowed out your temples, waiting for your punishment. 

“I’m… so very sorry,” you managed to mumble, lifting your head from your crouched position. You didn’t hear Suguru lean forward, changing his position to kneel in front of you, and you didn’t expect him to be leaning over you so closely. His face looked down at you with a different kind of softness, raven strands of hair falling over his ears.

“Nonsense. It happens to the best of us… sit up,” he purred, whispering a magical tune in your ear. In any other person, this caring persona would have elicited a feeling of trust and safety. But you found this to be resulting in a different kind of reaction. Suguru’s brow furrowed ever so slightly when you sat up, moving to sit on your knees in front of him, and stared at him with … fuck me eyes?? No one had ever lusted after him so obviously and that quickly too! I mean he was Suguru fucking Geto, for crying out loud- he was supposed to be scary, not sexy! Well… maybe both. 

He blinked slowly to reset his thoughts, letting a gentle hand swipe past her cheek and softly hold her chin. Geto spoke your name lowly as he tilted your head to one side, taking in your features. It was nothing more than a pass over to see you fully, but you had completely soaked your underwear. Yeah, that’s right, you weren’t scared of him you were aroused. It felt even more embarrassing because it was incredibly obvious your fear-torn stare had turned into something more objectifiying. 

You were just picturing him leaning in and whispering sweet nothings as his voice broke your thoughts, “Your name is very pretty.” His voice brushed against your ears and once he retracted his hand back, a small frown parted your lips. His touch was warm and soft, contrasting the devilish stare Suguru typically wore. You wanted to relish in it for a few more moments, but you couldn’t live in a fantasy, now could you?

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, looking down to your lap. You just felt your wetness create an uncomfortable pool in your underwear, making it hard not to squirm. Especially with those naturally beautiful eyes staring at you with a hidden curiosity. 

Aside from the obvious lust radiating off of your person, you were a hard individual to read. Geto was getting mixed signal after mixed signal from your face he decided to sigh and ignore whatever he was feeling at that moment, opting to go over the business side of things. “You will become my personal servant, focussing on cooking, cleaning, and fulfilling my everyday needs. Understood?”

You nodded as he continued, “I would let Manami show you to your room… but it appears she’s wandered off,” he motioned to the slightly open door behind you, “I don’t mind showing you.” With that, the emperor stood up and cleared his throat, brushing his big hands against his robe. You watched with wide eyes as it flowed around him, making him appear more majestic than he actually was. You found yourself standing up and following your new boss, opting not to speak or do anything to draw more attention to yourself. 

As the two of you walked, the columns lining the walls took hold of your mind. The patterns in the wallpaper were one thing in itself, but the structure of the clearly customized columns made your heart flutter. It was gorgeous. Dragon scales dipped into the wall before coming out, in the middle of every door that lined the long indoor hallway. Your feet slowed to a stop, staring at the gold dragon trim. Your hand inched toward it slowly, just one touch to see the type of material. Suguru hadn’t noticed you wandered off until he turned and in the corner of his eye, he saw you stroke the wall. At first, he wanted to do the dick thing and clear his throat, embarrassing you. But something stopped him. You were as pretty as that dragon, the gold reflecting off your skin and making you practically glow in the dim light. You were gorgeous. Stunning even. It was strange, he had never felt himself this attracted to anyone in his life. Aside from- never mind. 

The leader slowly walked back, making his way behind you. You were tolerable to be around, tolerable for a monkey. That was something he had to remind himself about. You were still a non-sorcerer. You were still inferior to him in every sense of the word. Whatever feelings were creeping into his chest and making his heart sing had to get shut away in that instant, so he did the dick move and cleared his throat. 

Your hand was on one of the scales and you froze, turning your head with the speed of light to meet his gaze. “Lord… Please forgive me,” you blurted out, turning on your heel and pressing both hands to your chest, “I’m very sorry. I should never have gotten distracted. I’m sorry,” you squeaked, shutting your eyes tight. You knew what was bound to come… either a physical punishment or your letter of unemployment. Before Suguru could even respond, you lifted your head and tilted it to the side, motioning to your cheek. 

His eyebrow quirked up. He had never seen a servant ask for a punishment for their own wrongdoings, especially when it wasn’t that severe. A strange pang hit his chest, causing a weight to form across his own heart. What had happened in your sad life that made you so prone to letting people do things like that to you? This wasn’t the woman he was expecting. When you walked in, terrified and shy, then … horny, he thought he had gotten the wrong girl. Something must have happened for you to change like that. Maybe your obvious attraction was a hint of the personality you were hiding. Then Suguru had another question: why were you hiding your personality? The first duh answer was so you wouldn’t get fired right away, right? But he felt like there was something more. 

Something he shouldn’t have cared about. You were a non-sorcerer, a monkey! It was forbidden on all accords. 

Suguru blinked a few times, taking himself out of his weird spiral of thoughts to look at your face, contorted with worry, “It’s … alright. I wasn’t aware you liked architecture,” he motioned to the dragon’s golden bodice on the wall, “That was custom made from…” You let your boss explain how the dragon was made and imported, listening to every word. You didn’t want to speak and ruin your only chance at a new life. This was the one and only time you had ever held your breath, stopping any words from coming out. 

After a moment, the male paused and looked over you once more. Something was turning over inside his head and he so desperately wanted an answer. What was going on inside your head and what had deflated your personality so? What had made you turn yourself into a shell of the person he knew was still in there? …And why was he longing to see this? But he said nothing. The moment had passed and as quickly as you wandered off, you were shown to your room. If Geto had let himself unravel any further he would have requested her to accept a binding vow of pure honesty, with the promise of his protection. Why? Why was she pulling at his mind and making him lose it?

That night, he set himself a bath. The water splashed and made small waves as he dipped his feet into it, before submerging his large body. There was something so very calming about a bath to clear his mind… but he couldn’t rid it of you. Of your face, of your monkey smell, or your body. Even though the kimono you were wearing was a size too big, he still made sure to look you over subtly. He took in your large curves and bit his lip, thinking about them as he sat by himself. He was completely and utterly alone, in spirit and in a literal sense. Of course, he’d get a morning erection every now and then, but it had been a long time since something had turned him on just from the thought of it. 

One of Suguru’s hands dipped into the water and grabbed ahold of his meaty cock, dragging a hand up and down his length. It was foreign, but coming back to him like muscle memory. He didn’t want to savor this orgasm to the thought of a lowly monkey, he wanted to get it over with then pretend it never even happened. He wanted to pretend this was all some strange dream he was forced into… not at all something that was going to be plaguing him. He inhaled sharply and leaned his head back, resting his back against the edge of the bathtub. The water was coming up to his mid stomach, warming up his lower half. His pleasure was a gradual build, but he was trying his hardest to rush it. The leader wanted nothing more than to cum and then forget it. His hand tightened around his shaft, stroking upwards to find any sense of release. It was a few seconds before he came, rolling his hips a few times at the new sensation. It was a build of pure warmth before he felt his fluids ooze out of his tip with heavy force. It sprung into the water and contaminated it with his filthy seed. 

It was enough to make him grimace. A non-sorcerer made him so hot and bothered he was forced to spill all over himself, in the bath no less! First, he felt an odd sense of attraction to you… now he wanted nothing to do with it. If it was going to keep him feeling this way, Suguru wanted nothing to do with you. Even if you were beautiful, and you smelt good, and your skin was soft. He could feel it on his fingertips, a psychosomatic warmth radiating off of his hands. 

This was not going to be good for him. You were not going to be good for him.

You woke up at 9 AM sharp, not by choice. Manami shook you a few times, forced you out of your comforting dream, and made you sit up on the small cot you had gotten as your bed. It was more than you could have ever asked for, even if it was made for someone a bit smaller than you. So was your new kimono. They had a dress code for servants to differentiate them, and clearly whoever was the last servant didn’t have a very large … bust. You stared at yourself in the mirror, seeing your form ache to be freed from the tight clothing. The buttons didn’t go all the way down, exposing a bit of cleavage, and it tore a bit at the small of your back. Manami wasn’t much help either, opting to snicker at you and roll her eyes. You wanted to bite back and say something to get her riled up, but you never found your strength. Instead, you took it and nodded. 

“Okay so, Sir Geto’s room is the one to your left. Go ahead and start his bath. Don’t try to wake him up, though. He’ll be all grumpy if you do,” she explained, motioning wildly with her hands. She was a very extroverted person. Someone you would’ve gotten along with if you didn’t feel like absolute dog shit at that very moment. You nodded your head politely and exited the room, opening your bosses. 

It was neat, with barely any decor. Gas lanterns hung from the walls dimly, always keeping the room somewhat illuminated. You tried your hardest not to look at his sleeping form, but you caved. He was so gorgeous it made you pussy throb just from looking at him. His face was resting peacefully against his pillow, some black hairs sprawled against his forehead. His hair was long, longer than you expected, flowing behind him on his bed. And he was wearing what appeared to be a sheer robe. You swallowed and made your way into his bathroom, almost slipping on the excess water left behind from his previous night's bath. You were innocent enough not to question the pile of tissues on the counter, pushing them into the small garbage pail. Then it was a matter of setting up his bath.

In a cabinet hidden by a curve in the wall, you noticed some aromatic bath salts and other essential oils. One of the households you worked for was very into the essential thing, so you had an idea of what scents went together. You didn’t want Geto to smell like a whole mixture of things, but rather one family of scents. You chose a vial of rosemary, lavender, and peppermint oil, hoping it would go together. The bath turned on with a single turn of the knob. Your hands rested on the base of the tub, feeling the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. It got to the perfect temperature and you put the stopper on the drain, letting it fill up. In the meantime, you sat on the edge of the bathtub and peered around the bathroom. It was again, tidy and austere. He didn’t have an eye for decorating or he didn’t enjoy it. 

You heard a faint groan in the bedroom, signaling Suguru was waking. You inhaled the smell of rosemary and turned on your side to watch as it spilled one drop at a time from the vial. Then fell the peppermint, followed by the lavender. The scent filled the bathroom in an aromatic fashion, filling your senses with a sudden calm. Was it some kind of drug concoction? It was a smell that made you lean back and sigh, filling you with a sense of safety in your surroundings. 

“Good morning,” Suguru spoke, a raspy edge to his voice. Your eyes shot open from their closed state and you stood up, clasping your hands on your chest to hide your cleavage. But you hadn’t seen him staring at you from the bathroom door. He leaned against the doorframe, in only his thin nighttime robe, and stared at your thick breasts. The fabric was so tight, it pulled gaps between each button. He had to admit it, it was hot. Even if you were a filthy monkey, you were a hot filthy monkey. A hot filthy monkey with a banging body. 

“Lord Geto, I was preparing your bath,” you stepped to the side and motioned to the filling water. He caught a glimpse of your back as you turned to turn the knob to the water down to a stop. He saw the tear and the bit of your lacey underwear peeking out from underneath it. Was he that much of a monster that the first time a beautiful non-sorcerer appeared, he’d cave and melt? 

It was starting to feel that way as something came out of his mouth, “How do you feel about me? …Honestly.”

You opened your mouth to respond, on autopilot, before you closed it as quickly as you opened it. What could you say? You found him attractive and you wanted him to breed you? You couldn’t exactly say that, so instead you opted for something more generic, “I think you’re a very respectable leader and emperor to your coven.”

Bull. Shit. Suguru knew it was a lie and he knew you knew it as well. He didn’t have a reputation for being respectable in any sense of the word. He was a cold-blooded killer who’d murder anyone who wronged him in any way. A cold-blooded killer who was beginning to have a strange soft spot for you… 

“Tell me this,” he took a step forward, “if you vow to never lie to me again … I vow to protect you from getting fired, no matter what.” Was he seriously going to bindingly vow himself to some non-sorcerer? Was he seriously going to do this because he wanted to know how he was perceived? 

“...Really?” You asked, your mouth opening slightly. All he wanted was honesty?? You could do that! You could do that so well!! 

“Really,” Geto took another step forward and began to undo the tie holding together his robe. You had made it a point to stare at his face, but you were aching to quickly glance down below his belt. Just for a second.

“Okay. I swear…” You looked away and bit your bottom lip for a moment. You’d have to be honest now. You looked back at the man and let a smile appear on your face, “I think you’re more hot than you are scary.” 

Suguru’s eyes widened. That’s not at all the kind of tonal shift he had expected from you. He expected you to admit some kind of vague attraction and perhaps that he was a terrifyingly charismatic leader. But… he got a response which made an embarrassed blush fill his temples. 

“I’m .. hot?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling off the robe and letting it fall to the floor. Your eyes didn’t shy away now, making direct eye contact with his flaccid cock. It was beautiful even in that state, making your mouth hang open just a bit more. It was huge too. Thoughts of his girth stretching out your tiny pussy flooded into your thoughts. He could fuck you so good with that thing. And his voice… it was perfect.

“A lot of you is hot,” you looked back at his face, which was an excruciatingly bright shade of red. No one had ever felt this comfortable to objectify Suguru this way to his face. He couldn’t deny the fact he was growing to enjoy it. And grow in other ways. He took a few more steps forward, hands reaching out and pulling you closer to his front. 

“You’re being filthy, not honest,” a small smirk graced his lips as he stared down at you with half-lidded eyes, beaming with lust. 

“I can do both,” you returned a smile. A weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had complete and utter job security. That’s all you could have ever wanted in your entire life, just a place to stay. Even if it meant working with this hot guy for the rest of your life, you didn’t mind. Although, he thought of you as inferior, you didn’t care. That’s what did it. Your personality had been led out of its cage and shown to Suguru’s perverted gaze. He realized what kind of person you were from your few sentences. You were just as much of a pervert as he was. The tonal shift was enough to make you realize what his next plans were, especially when he let his big hands snake around your waist. 

“This is,” Suguru let out a breath and craned his head down, brushing his lips past your ear, “Very wrong… But I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to kiss you, pretty girl,” he cooed, using his free hand to tilt your chin up to face him as he pulled his face back. You both looked at each other’s features for a moment without anything. What was there to say? You could feel him throbbing between your legs with that massive log he had attached to his front. It was hot. You just wanted to trail your hand down his chest and watch him shiver when you got to his v-line.

“You can’t fire me… so I don’t care,” two hands found themselves placed on his bare chest, running up and down his pectorals, “Am I too lowly for you, sir?” You purred, looking back up at him with a lustful expression. It was all you had to say before he proved you wrong. Devastatingly slow, he brought your lips together. The hand on your chin disappeared, moving to rest upon your ass. You sighed into the kiss, molding your lips together in perfect synchronization. It was as if his mouth was made for you, pulling you into sensations you had never felt before. The kiss didn’t last long before he pulled back and looked down at you with an unmistakable expression. He was going to fuck the living shit out of you. It was written on his face from the way he was clearly thinking about how to go about it. There was a bathtub full of aromatic water, waiting to be used… You looked down at the tub and looked back at him. You two didn’t have to say anything as his hands grabbed at the hole from the back of your kimono and ripped it. It made a loud tearing sound and he continued to pull, until little to no fabric hung from your breasts. 

You gasped and looked down at the mess he had made, moving to undo your underwear, then you looked at his cock. It was just aching to be touched in some way. Your hand found his tip and started to stroke down his shaft, then up. Who knew a non-sorcerer's hands would feel phenomenal compared to his own? Suguru let out a faint groan, leaning into your touch. He had never let himself take pleasure in things, ever since his breakup [at KFC] twenty years ago… but now it felt different. He felt like he had one chance to do this and he wasn’t going to spoil it. Your hands were so warm, he could just imagine how warm your mouth would be, gagging on his length.

Large hands cupped your ass and lifted your body, causing you to exclaim loudly and wrap your arms around his neck for stability. He was so strong, you could hardly believe it. It was pure talent and genetics that made him perfect on every level. His face was godly and his body was sculpted from the heavens just for your perverted stare. The male set you down gently in the tub, being mindful to make sure you didn’t land too hard on your plush backside. He wanted to save the bruising on your skin for when it was from him. He wanted his hands to be the ones leaving imprint after imprint on your skin, slapping and grabbing without a care for what would be left behind. He plopped down into the water, not caring if he got water to spill from the sides. He didn’t care about anything, because his hands and eyes were glued to you. His hands hooked around your hips and pulled you onto his lap, still being mindful not to hurt you. 

You grinned and leaned forward, pushing strands of ebony-colored hair across his forehead and away from his beautiful eyes. Purple, they stared back at you gently. “This… is nice,” you spoke softly, pressing your lips first on his forehead, then his nose, before landing on his lips. It was chaste, as the first kiss had been. But it didn’t stay that way for long. Suguru’s tongue slipped its way into your mouth and took over with a dominating force, making you bite back a whimper. It felt so good. He knew exactly how to move it to elicit whatever reaction he pleased. Your hands raked through his hair, before grabbing fistfuls at the root and moaning into his mouth. He liked that, moaning with you.  

“...Harder,” he mumbled against your open mouth, kissing back for more.

“What a pretty little masochist,” you smiled, running your hands through the roots of his hair before clenching them down and yanking up another fistful, hearing him whine in his low gravelly voice. Fuck… it just made you so wet. You clenched your thighs together as you kissed up his face, pulling his hair just to hear the ardor-esc moans fill the room. This was even better than sex, just hearing him get a little bit of pleasure out of this hair-pulling would’ve been satisfactory. But as you did this, you felt his hands fondle your ass, squeezing and palming your skin. It wasn’t long before he lifted you and had you position his throbbing dick against your folds. 

You had never felt a dick this good penetrate you in your life. Something about the way it curved to the left and the bulbous head, touched areas you didn’t even know you had, just on the way down. You threw your head back in a breathy whine, rocking your hips back and forth once you felt yourself hit the base of his cock. Suguru used his two hands to help you slide up his length, then down again. He had you trapped in a rhythm of fucking your tight cunt with his member, making you his fuck toy. The male had never felt himself slip into such a trace over a monkey of all people. Non-sorcerers should have not had this hold on him, but you were different. You gasped and bit down on your hand to stop a loud groan escaping your mouth, with your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 

“Dirty slut,” Suguru uttered, biting on his bottom lip to stop his own noises from getting too loud. No one could figure out this was happening. It was wrong. It was against everything he had ever stood for. But …god it felt so good. Your walls clenched around him every time he forced you down on his length, taking the time to feel up your hips and ass. You were so soft, inside and out. The perfect toy he could use. 

It didn’t take him long to feel close, a familiar pang of desire creeping up the shaft of his cock. You were beyond ready to cum, with this log inside you it wouldn’t take long. You bit down on your fingertips and cried out, not having time to muffle your wails of pleasure. It was a warmth you hadn’t felt in such a long time wash over your whole vagina, flushing out through your body next. You convulsed, grinding your hips back and forth to continue to elongate your high for as much as possible, causing a second orgasm on your way down. No one had ever made you cum like that, making you dumbfounded by the sheer will of their dick. 

The cult leader felt himself throbbing for release, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do it inside you. There couldn’t be any evidence of your joint mistake running around in nine months, not here. Instead, he pulled you off his cock and pressed his lips together, “Press your…” He motioned to your breasts then his cock, “So I can…” You nodded and pressed your tits together, pushing them up against the length of his dick. That was all he needed, using his left hand to finish the job. He focused his energy on the swollen tip, leaking precum and begging to release all over your mounds of perfect flesh. Mounds he wanted so desperately to put in his mouth and suck. 

Then he came, splattering out of his cock and messily coating your tits. Most of the cum was on your skin, although half of it also found its way into the water. You bit your lip as he came and thrust into the air, into nothing. It was like volt after volt of pure pleasure was shot through his urethra and forced out in one big release, a release he didn’t know he was even capable of. Your cunt had felt so good it made Suguru’s dick completely sensitive to any kind of touches, including his own. So when he came, he let out a loud whine, in his devilishly low voice, “F-fuck… mmm shit.. This was.. Hah.. a mis-mistake,” he breathed out, trying to regulate himself after he had just felt an explosive orgasm run through his penis.

You nodded and looked down at your breasts, coated in his cum. How were you going to explain to Manami that all of your clothes mysteriously wound up torn in Lord Geto’s bathroom? And how were you going to explain the fact you were also covered in Lord Geto’s cum?

“...Can I call you Suguru now?” You asked after a moment, tilting your head to the man who looked as though he had just run a marathon. 

There was something utterly interesting about your personality now that you had freed it from your nervous shackles. Suguru didn’t want to extinguish this new fire in your eyes, he wanted to foster it and let it burn. There was no way he was developing some kind of feelings for you other than lust… there was no way. But there were going to be dramatic changes now. After that day, you were treated as one of the regular Sorcerers, which infuriated Manami to no end. You were the most prized possession of Suguru Geto and everyone knew not to anger or upset you because he would get wind of it. Then… there’d be trouble. You were his prized possession. The possession he wanted to see smile and laugh in the sunlight, rather than stay inside and do mindless chores. The possession he wanted to have slept next to him in his bed at night and wrapped his large arms around. 

The possession he was growing to… love.

[cozycottagetarot]

The Next Chapter Of Your Life

How To Pick A Pile:

Everyone has their own technique for choosing a 'pile'. My recommendation is to clear your mind and focus on each image for a few seconds. The image you find yourself coming back to even when you focus on the other images is the pile for you.

Quick notes on this reading:

It's a long one -- This reading is a lot longer (I think) than what I typically post. I'd appreciate any feedback on the length since it's something I'm experimenting with. The pile titles are colour-coded -- Hopefully, it helps make scrolling to the next section quicker.

Each pile references multiple scenarios -- some scenarios came through stronger than others, but I did my best to write what I was getting to be applied to situations not mentioned.

‼️ THIS READING IS MEANT FOR SELF-REFLECTION AND ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY -- While this reading does contain a bit of advice and reflective questions, IT'S IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM MEANT TO REPLACE PROFESSIONAL ADVICE OF ANY KIND. Please use your discretion, think carefully before you act and only take what resonates be it a little, some or none at all. (The usual disclaimer is at the bottom).

Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings -- Open 🥂

PILE 1 (Scrapbook)

Who are you? Cards: The Poet, The Founder rev, The Queen of Roses

This pile may be the pile for you if any of the following resonates:

Wanting to connect or being very connected to your loving, nurturing and supportive side. You've been receiving messages or sensing that a new connection is on the horizon. Motherhood/parenthood or marriage. Seeking resolutions to a relationship. Leaving behind relationships that have been in your life forever. Giving too much to others. Ending toxic relationships. Finding or wanting freedom. Finding your voice. Finding you. Tapping into your creative side. A quest for happiness.

If none of these individual sentences resonate feel free to check out a different pile.

Who will you become throughout this next chapter? Cards: The Muse, The Gambler

You will begin to bloom. Maybe not fully, but you’ll be more open to taking the necessary steps (which may feel like risk) to flourish. The end result will be you tapping into your creativity and creator energy. But also putting in the work, and changing your approach. I pulled all the cards at once so being able to take in all the cards at once, it’s this sense of making you happen. Gone will be the sense of being who you think you should or are expected to be. You’ll be gaining a new sense of self that is brighter and more wild. The risk is non-existent. It’s more perceived. It seems like a risk to indulge in the aspects of yourself that may seem like they’re more whimsy, but by actually making those things happen, you will transform into someone who can inspire themself. You won’t have to look for inspiration elsewhere, you’ll have it there within you.

How will you find success? Cards: 3 of Keys (The Chess Game), The King rev

Through changing your tactic. This chapter won’t necessarily be easy. There will be conflict with those around or above you, especially if this relates to career or relationships, possibly even both. Detach from the situation and be objective. Waiting for your opening will be the key to your success. For some, it’s a situation where everyone is only looking out for themself and I’m picking up that it's creating a stalemate. With the king reversed, you know what’s best in the situation but someone with more authority than you or a level of seniority if this is a personal relationship thinks they know better but they don’t. It’s about being firm and holding your own as well as not letting your emotions, or the part of you that’s super connected to the situation, get the best of you and influence you to make rash decisions.

Challenges you may meet: Cards: The Astronomer, The Orator, Reflection rev.

I see the biggest challenge here for you being one of mastering yourself in this next chapter. There’s a battle between your emotions and your intuition. To navigate this you need to have a conversation with yourself and determine why you’re having such strong emotions. Where are these feelings stemming from? The astronomer card is here to remind you that whatever the situation is, it’s not really about the past-- it’s not going to help you navigate this chapter. Especially if you’ve been acting according to what’s expected of you when the current/upcoming situation(s) requires you to do what is true to you. I hope I'm not repeating myself too much here, but the challenge becomes exploring the why behind the emotions so you can better make decisions and listen to your intuition. BUT, keep in mind that it doesn’t mean not to listen to your emotions at all.

Another message here is that working with other people may also show up as a challenge. There's a reminder to listen to other people's perspectives but also know that choosing to hear someone’s POV doesn’t mean you have to absorb it as yours either.

Finally, even when it gets tough, don’t doubt yourself. Take your time. It may seem like you have to have it all figured out and know what to say and which decision to make, but not really. It’s easy to feel that way when it feels like everything is at stake, but again, if you feel that way, pause and ask yourself why? Once you have your why, you can take on the world.

Lessons To Be Learned: Cards: The Painter, 8 of keys (the master artisan)

This definitely feels like it relates to career or passion projects, but of course, just adjust to your individual situation. It may or may not mean anything, but your cards have lots of florals.

Your lessons in this next chapter of life relate to learning to connect with yourself, speaking up and putting yourself out there. Your energy is one that makes me feel like you have such an amazing talent you're hesitant to embrace. You have so much to learn and just as much to offer... this is the beginning of that journey. Don’t be shy. There are opportunities out there waiting, you just have to figure out the way to pursue them that is most authentic to you. Even if it’s simply an opportunity to give love and kindness. I know I focused a lot on career and creativty, but this goes for relationships too. There is a lot of heavy energy covering this beautiful light-hearted one that just wants to break free. If you are considering going into teaching or taking up a teaching opportunity (not necessarily even in a formal education system) or enrolling in a course of some kind, I feel like this is a nod to say go for it. Especially pottery or beadwork? Trade work as well, maybe even culinary school or food-related skills. (I could be projecting there on the culinary aspect though as that's what I did and the imagery on the card reminds me of it).

Advice to take with you in this next chapter: The hound and pear (loyalty) — This card is always a bittersweet card whenever I see it. The message here is one of loyalty and friendship. A new relationship (of any kind), one founded on friendship, is precious but also delicate. Don't make irrevocable decisions based on conclusions. It must be treated with care on both sides because it can be damaged easily.

The deer and oat (healing) — Rest and recharge. Moderation and mindfulness are also key for recovering from difficult or intense situations. Ask yourself, how you can rest and nurture yourself?

The snake and fern (starting over) — it’s time to finish breaking free from the past so you can become something new. So you can return to your true self. What has protected you and brought you to this point? Are you in a position to release it? Are there any parts of your past self that you can regrow from (like snipping off part of a plant that may be unhealthy and leaving the rest so it can re-catch itself, not sure why I picked that analogy) or must you grow anew? (Planting a new seed, from the old plant. The essence is still there but a completely new plant will grow)

If you made it this far I appreciate it. Feedback is welcomed and if there's a topic you'd like me to cover in a pac, feel free to let me know!

Pile 2 (Compass)

If you’re drawn to pile 1 feel free to check that out as well.

Who are you? Cards: The Oracle of Delphi, the Sentinel, the Forgotten

This pile may be the pile for you if any of the following resonates:

Intuitive. Connected to a higher power. Diety work. Past lives. Psychic powers. Perseverance. Fighting back. Confidence threatening to become arrogance. Dominance dancing on the lines of domineering. A force to be reckoned with. Someone who's sometimes brash. Amor fati (love of fate). An academic. Dreamlight Valley. Self-esteem issues (past or present). Someone who was looked past and from it learned not to try. Fear. Anxiety. A lost soul stumbling in the dark. Chaos. Morally grey. *You may be an avid reader or enjoy fantasy media as well.

My Overall Impression: You’re a force to be reckoned with and reckon you will. Your energy is just pure power and chaos. I low-key feel like you’re battling with life/the universe (call it what you prefer, that’s just how I prefer to call it). There’s this energy of "Try me" and the universe is like "I got one for you, watch and see". But there’s no malice. I just get fed-up vibes from you and the response from life is like "Okay 👀, but chill." Enemies to lovers with life itself.

Who will you become throughout this next chapter? Cards: The Ark of the Covenant, Beith — Birth, The Queen, The Assassin

The Queen and The Assassin flew out with such fury! You’re going to become someone worthy of wearing a crown. But it comes at a price, though it’s not one you can sit around and sulk about. The next chapter of your life reminds me of being forged in fire. Now you’re stepping into the role and identity of someone who can achieve your goals. It’s dark at times, but you’re gaining the skills to do what you want to do and I get the feeling this "thing" you're meant to do is one you may feel on a deep or soul level. (It is) fulfilling a higher calling or purpose. At the very least, you’re becoming someone who has decided that this is the last time they repeat a cycle.

You’re working towards something more and it feels like by the end of this chapter, you’ll be granted a brief reprieve. There’s still more work to be done though. You’re stepping into a new era where so much will grow from you. For some of you, a new romantic relationship is coming in and/or you're expanding your family-- that includes found family as well.

How will you find success?

Cards: 4 of Roses (views of the ego) the Witch. Rev

The first message that comes through is that your success lies in cutting someone off. Someone selfish and self-absorbed to be exact. It’s a relationship you’ve stayed in too long... they could have had some kind of hold over you, not necessarily in a controlling way, but they could have meant something on a deep level which could have been why you held on. You may have done a lot you’re not happy with because you’ve done it with this person in mind. Cutting ties with them grants you success as it allows you to focus on what’s truly important to you.

The other message with the witch reversed is the importance of remembering that while you’re forging your own path, it’s okay to look to others who have made it or 'gotten out'. Maybe they haven’t gone through the exact same thing, but it doesn’t mean there isn’t wisdom in the stories of others who’ve forged through and paved their own way as well. Pile one was about breaking away from the expected, but you’re being called to review what is expected and see if there’s anything worth considering. Kind of like shopping around for inspiration? You might come across someone else's story and it might spark an idea within you on how to navigate your own.

Challenges you may meet-- Cards: The Tailor Rev, The Scribe

Your challenges in this next chapter involve trying not to force your will upon the flow of your life and refining your focus. I know, I said forged in fire. There’s an imbalance of sorts... instead of firing and hoping you hit the target (your goal), you need to pause and take a good look at what’s working vs what isn’t. The 'wheel of life' worksheet/exercise comes to mind but I personally hate that exercise so much. I bring it up because it allows you to get a visual of what areas of your life you've been focusing on vs neglecting and pinpoint which areas of your life you’re lacking in. From there you can further assess and gain a better grasp on what you should be focusing on. After all, you can do anything, but you can’t do everything.

With the scribe, you may need to study or fine-tune your skills regarding a specific matter more. Here, there's something you need to learn to influence your life in the way you want, but you have to take the time to figure out what it is that you need to learn. It doesn’t have to be formal learning either. It could be something such watch a YouTube video, reading a book or article, or even taking a free online course or masterclass. Nothing is too big or too small here, as long as it's helping you to develop to get from point A to B.

Lessons To Be Learned:

Cards: 8 or scrolls (path unknown), the diviner, the puppeteer

The 8 of scrolls here reminds you that you’ve been travelling on a path where you know the outcomes, but to get to where you want to be sometimes requires walking down paths that may mean you don’t know what’s going to happen until it happens. At the same time, that’s how opportunities we didn’t know we needed arise. In the card imagery, there’s a basket next to the girl filled with scrolls, the same type of scrolls pictured in the scribe card. I think for you it’s learning the skill or information I mentioned that is going to help you feel more confident and assured on this path you’re following. You’ve got the energy of the queen archetype (regardless of gender), and though it may be a challenge, you’ve equipped yourself with the skills necessary to go after what you want. You’ll have what it takes 100% to move on to the next phase (after this one we're talking about).

The Diviner is about divine timing and evaluation. Here you’ve done all that you can with what is in your control. What’s left now is waiting for your desires outcomes to come to fruition. While you can’t rush or force things, you can make sure you set yourself up for success when you get it. So let's say you're waiting on receiving a sum of money, in the meantime you can learn/brush up on the skills to manage money etc.

Finally with the puppeteer, mending relationships could also be a lesson. Although I think it’s more about learning to interact with others better? But also remembering that sometimes apologies can mend relationships and other times they can’t. Going back to that relationship mentioned way before, it could be a matter of "are you willing to forgive the other person if they were to apologise and see the error of their ways?" (Though with the type of person mentioned that may be unlikely but, who knows).

Another possibility with the assassin card is that you may ruffle feathers at some point, so you may learn the power or limits of an apology in that sense as well.

Advice to take with you in this next chapter:

The Finch and Peach (romance) — romance is on its way to you. Things to ponder on could be: do you feel ready to welcome love into your life? What are some things that make you feel loved/how do you like to receive love?

The Marten and Foxglove (mischief) — this card asks you to stay open to opportunities that allow you to tap into your playful side, be spontaneous or travel. Ask yourself how can you make room for spontaneity? (It could be through trying new foods, reading a different genre, visiting a place you wouldn’t typically visit, changing up your daily routine etc). Also are you at a point where you can open yourself to new adventures, big or small?

The Boar and Pumpkin (confidence) — You’re not wrong to be confident in yourself, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Take a moment to acknowledge your accomplishments and think about what you’ve done that you’re proud of (doesn’t always have to be tangible, it can also be mindsets, situations you’ve walked from etc).

The Snake and Fern (starting over) — Again, if you were drawn to pile one, I suggest you check that out. Here this card nods to beginning a new and asks you to see if there are any parts of yourself you can return to, or if it’s time to completely start anew and discover yourself from scratch.

If you made it this far I appreciate it. Feedback is welcomed and if there's a topic you'd like me to cover in a pac, feel free to let me know!

Pile 3 (The Trunks/Suitcase)

Who are you? Cards: The Smith, The Twins, The Lookout, The Askashic Library, 3 of Forces (Bird’s Nest)

This pile may be the pile for you if any of the following resonates:

The overthinker. Having a twin or prominent Gemini placements. If you're considering something you’ve been wanting to do for a while but keep putting off. A relationship with someone in which you both started on the same path but they went in another direction. Holding onto resentment. Feel like everything is up in flames. Writing. Seeking self-awareness. Manifesting. Intuitive. *Read that book you’ve been meaning to read. Needing a backup plan. Expanding. Hopeful prospects.

*If this doesn't feel like your pile, and you were eyeing pile 4, definitely check it out. This pile was actually the last I pulled and the hardest to read for and it felt like many aspects of it related to other piles as well. I recommend checking out a secondary pile in general if you were drawn to one.

Who will you become throughout this next chapter? Cards: The Waker, The Runaway, The Warrior (Sorry, I forgot to write down some of the cards 🤦‍♀️, I believe it was 'Fated Meeting' and 'Queen of Scrolls')

You’re becoming someone who is becoming centred/aligned and more intuitive. Your internal world and external world are going to become more connected. Connected to your ‘higher self’ as well, it’s going to be you vs you (levelling up). You’re going to become someone who can face the things you’ve been running from head-on.

That thing you’ve been putting off, you’re going to be able to finally put into action. Coming into being filled with inspiration, clarity and direction. This is especially if you’re considering careers/education, or projects in the fields of writing, publishing, marketing, communication, counselling or teaching. If you’re seeking a mentor, this person could help guide you to becoming this way. It could also be someone in your life already that may help you who is in one of these fields.

For a select few of you, you’re becoming the version of you that was meant to meet your person. If it’s not a romantic partner, then you’re coming into contact with a soulmate (meant as someone you have a ‘soul bond’ with).

Where Will You Find Success? Cards: 4 of Keys (Clearing The Way), Reflection, The Cartographer rev, The Weaver

If you find yourself prone to many different avenues of ideas and project but never settling on one, you’re going to find your success through settling on one thing and focusing on it. It’s time for you stop buckle down and stick with one of those brilliant ideas of yours and make it happen.

Also while it may be time for you to focus on one thing professionally or creatively, when it comes to yourself, it’s time to embrace all the pieces of you that seem random. It reminds me of this post I saw a couple of days ago about how we don't have to force ourselves fit perfectly into an aesthetic... that it's okay to have and embrace parts of your personality that are completely left field of the other bits that go hand in hand. So for some of you, maybe it’s time to embrace all the pieces of you that don’t go together neatly. Maybe that’s why you have these ideas and start them and then ditch them, because you’re a multifaceted being and you’re not allowing yourself to be so and that is the way it manifests in your life? Maybe it’s time to learn how to let all the sides of you coexist without getting lost. Food for thought maybe?

Regardless, it’s time to remove distractions that are holding you back. Tap into your intuition. Become more aware of your emotions. There's a sense of self-mastery is needed here.

Challenges You May Meet? Cards: The Pathless, The Miser, 1 of Scrolls (On Track), Up In The Air, 6 of Forces (The Waterfall) rev

Your challenges kind of relate to the things that were mentioned already. Being in your head, overthinking things, being unable to settle, but also trying to avoid falling into a headspace where you’re being pessimistic and stubborn. Just because you stick to one thing doesn’t mean you can’t shift and adjust your approach. And if you find that you’re really stuck don’t be afraid to just take a step back. If this is all relating to something where other people are giving you their unsolicited advice, don’t be afraid to brush it off and say “Hey, I might have hit a block but trust that I know what I’m doing”. Another scenario is to not internalise any unsolicited advice or opinions because I feel like that could be a trigger for getting lost in your head for some of you.

For overthinking, it'll be about learning to accept that you won’t be able to know the exact outcome of certain things. If you’re working with someone else, then feeling like you are in control or that you have a say may be the challenge. For others, the challenge may simply be making the decision or committing. It could also be coming to terms with the fact that you waited so long to pursue this goal.

Lessons To Be Learned: Cards: The Brawler, The Forgotten, 2 of Roses (The Winged Messengers), Uriel and the Sphinx, the king of roses

With the Forgotten you’ll learn that you can’t be afraid of mistakes. Mistakes help you grow. You'll come to realise how much fear has been holding you back. There's also learning how to make something out of your anxiety. Learning not to run from conflict or maybe how to properly address it could also be another lesson. This could be regarding internal conflict or conflict with another person as I am getting multiple scenarios come up.

Again there's a message here that for some of a romantic suitor specifically coming in. Overall for everyone there’s an important relationship making its way into your life. The mentor shows up as a neutral energy throughout the reading (or balanced feminine and masculine). Their energy is thoughtful, nurturing/comforting and supportive.

Advice — The Goat and Willow (overdoing obstacle) — even though there are losses to suffer, you can overcome them with renewed energy and the right balance. When obstacles appear, prioritise realigning yourself with your goals. You can even get ahead of the game and brainstorm ways to handle potential obstacles before they arise. The Chipmunk and Laurel (success) — Your path to success will be a unique one, one you have to create on your own, but there will be adventures along the way. The Elk and Ash (strength) — Don’t be afraid to fight back when met with a challenge.

If you made it this far I appreciate it. Feedback is welcomed and if there's a topic you'd like me to cover in a pac, feel free to let me know!

Pile 4 (The plane around the world)

CW: Brief implication of strong language

Who are you? Cards: The storyteller, the mascareri, 1 of roses (commitment), 6 of roses (the war of roses)

This pile may be the pile for you if any of the following resonates:

Someone who struggles with the 'self'. You may hide your true self and struggle to accept others' true selves. For you, you could spend a lot of time crafting your persona. For some of you you maybe in positions where you delegate to others or are responsible for others' behaviour (managerial or boss positions). Some of you could work with kids or want to work with kids. Putting on a mask. Neurodivergence. You could enjoy writing or be a writer of some kind. The arts. Struggling with a partnership (romantic or business), trying to balance honouring yourself and their wishes? Conflicted about a relationship. Feeling like there's a battle between your head vs your heart.

Who will you become throughout this next chapter? Cards: 4 of Scrolls rev (The Karmic Trenches), The Patron rev, The poet You’re becoming someone with so much to offer and is still looking to grow. However, people may want to take advantage of that. Becoming someone who doesn’t hesitate and is in love with life. Embracing that life is imperfect. Becoming more vulnerable. Finding like-minded people. Embracing happiness. Tapping into your creative spirit. There could be an ending of some kind, though you didn’t want it, it brought a world full of new opportunities. You're finally breaking a pattern but also having the awareness to know when you’re tip-toeing along the lines of going back. Coming out of the dark. This sense of being healed on multiple levels and being able to finally experience joy.

Where will you find success? Cards: The Astronomer Rev, The Hound, 5 of forces (summer/winter), 7 of keys (The Ascent) You’re going to be finding success through setting long-term goals. If this is about a financial situation especially, then also finding a balance between focusing on what is necessary and not letting the 'wishlist' desires lead you astray. It can apply to any situation in general though. Focusing on what’s necessary and the things you would like to do coming afterwards.

There's also a matter of assessing where your loyalties or priorities lie and releasing habits, relationships, and ideas that are no longer serving you. Loyalty and staying true to your word might be something you value heavily and stand by, but I also see you finding success in this next chapter of your life by realising, you know what, sometimes you have to cut your ties, count any losses and move on because staying is only doing more harm than good. For some of you who have a relationship in mind or the relationship part resonated with you, this is especially true.

Taking action in general will bring success. This chapter could either close out or begin in the summer, or summer will mark an important time for you. With the 7 of keys, your success is guaranteed as long as you put in the work.

Challenges You May Meet: Cards: The Founder, The Shepard, 3 of Scrolls (Setting Your Course), Caught in The Ruins With The Founder, a challenge you might run into is needing to put yourself before someone else who is asking you for your help, although I'm also feeling it maybe asking you to put them first. You might struggle to determine whether or not you should offer them your help. The Shepard urges you to step up and take the lead when others need guidance. However, I think the best question to ask is what kind of person do you have to show up as in order to offer them your support? And also what type of person do you have to show up as to meet your goals? I’d say make a decision on how to proceed based on whether the two can successfully coincide or not.

A lot of different situations come up in this pile— relationships, career/finance, behaviours… but the common theme here seems to come down to mindset. Whatever the situation is that has you feeling trapped, you have to realise that it’s not definitive, even if it seems that way in your head. It seems like a lot of what is going on, and what you have to overcome, is self-sabotage and realising that just because you’ve always done something a certain way or a situation has always played out that way, doesn’t mean it will always be that way. You have the power to change; the challenge here simply lies in picking yourself up and dusting yourself off. There’s so much more out there for you than what you’re seeing right now. If relocating or travelling, especially where you have to cross the ocean, is something you’re hoping to do, then the end of this chapter we’re discussing in this reading might be the beginning of that next chapter in your life.

Lessons To Be Learned: Cards: 3 of Roses (Loving Elementals), 5 of Roses (The Garden)

The lessons here are about having a sense of child like wonder, and learning to find joy and exploration in life. Being able to laugh and play and find inspiration once more. If any of you have been thinking about starting a family (not necessarily right away) then it’s likely that this chapter will set you up for that. If not then I think a matter of legacy here. Being exposed to opportunities to nurture and grow the future you desire.

You’ll learn that sometimes you are the one who has to be the catalyst to change your life. I love this line from the guidebook of my Citadel Orcale cards regarding the catalyst. It says “ You are the bolt of lightning that topples the tower”. If you think about the Tower card in the traditional tarot deck, there’s lightning striking the tower and setting it on fire. Whenever it comes up it talks about upheaval and there’s often a sense of “oh great, something’s about to come **** up my life” but maybe [we] should consider that we’re not always the tower, but instead, we are the lightning. You have to make the decision to do or become something different, even if goes against what you've always known or what everyone tells you you should do.

What’s also important is not dwelling on past mistakes or regrets, it’s about learning from what happened and using it to make a better decision. Stop doubting yourself and overthink until your head hurts. Give yourself some grace and self-compassion. Take your time, changing isn’t going to happen overnight and often times we have to adjust to who we’re allowing ourselves to become.

Advice to take with you in this next chapter:

The Bee and Pomegranate (productivity) rev — If you find yourself struggling with procrastination, don’t be afraid to rest a while before giving whatever it is another go. Consider what makes you productive as well as what you can do to change why you’re not feeling productive towards another task.

The Racoon and Sycamore (curiosity) — The time is now to do some self-exploration. Explore new interests and hobbies as well as take time to think about how you’ve evolved and how you’d like to further evolve.

The Finch and Peach (romance) — Love is on its way to you. (I did kind of feel like it’s romantic love but it wasn't a prominent message in the reading.)

The Bear and Cedar (leadership) — You’re being guided towards leadership opportunities but remember to ‘rule’ with fairness and care. Ask yourself how can you be a better leader? Who can benefit from your knowledge and experience?

If you made it this far I appreciate it. Feedback is welcomed and if there's a topic you'd like me to cover in a pac, feel free to let me know!

*** Disclaimer: All readings and tarot/blog games are for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I ask that you trust yourself above all else. Finally please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all.

[bg-brainrot]

Unraveling Plan Meet Immeasurable Insecurity (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Rating: Teen

Summary: Tav tries their damnedest to propose, only to be rebuffed by Astarion at every single turn.

Tags: Astarion POV - alternating w/Rogue!Tav, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Marriage Proposal, Mild Hurt/Comfort, insecurities

A/N: based on a request from a kind anon on Tumblr– "Would you ever consider writing a one-shot where Tav tries to propose to Astarion but keeps failing multiple times. But Tav doesn’t give up and raises the stakes higher and higher. Astarion will completely remain oblivious because he still has some self esteem issues (why would anyone want to marry him?) and is really confused why Tav is acting nervous around him."

I ended up taking it in a slightly different direction (based on the man’s self esteem issues as you pointed out, anon). Set an undetermined amount of years post BG3, post saving Karlach from Zariel, post-Lae’zel finishing the githyanki uprising so the gang's all here. I hope the kind anon still enjoys it!

Word count: ~5.6k

Astarion first has an inkling that something is the matter when you sneak away from him.

Odd, he thinks, watching your retreating back. Usually they invite me along for this sort of skulking about.

But he understands, better than most, what a bit of privacy could afford someone who hasn’t had any in so long. So he watches you leave, pretending all the while that he hasn’t noticed a thing. Best not embarrass them, of course.

He brushes off the incident as an anomaly– after all, you continue to be your usual self upon your return. Neither of you speak of your absence, and you seem rather pleased with yourself, so he is pleased for you.

The next time he notices something is off he grows a tad more worried.

This time you don’t disappear, but you do spend a concerning amount of time staring at his hands, expression pensive.

“Darling,” he starts. He quickly tucks his hands under the Elfsong table that you both sit at and leans forward. “What are you doing?”

You blanch at the question– an uncharacteristic reaction to be sure. “Oh,” you sound startled, as if you’ve been caught doing something quite naughty. “Nothing at all. Just wondering if you’d done anything new with your nails? They look… nice.”

It’s a lie, that much is clear to Astarion. But it’s not typical that you lie so poorly. And why should you lie? No matter, you look flustered and gods does he love it when you look flustered– it happens so rarely that he feels the need to truly relish it. “Don’t they?” he asks, flourishing his hands in front of you now. “How did you know? I dipped them in an essence of ooze to thoroughly moisturize them.”

“Really?” Your bewilderment almost brings a laugh out of him.

“Gods no, my dear,” he says, reaching out from under the table and for your hands. “You seem quite out of sorts. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, staunchly avoiding eye contact with him.

Odd, he thinks again. Where is their usual daring now?

He’s forced to dismiss the thought as you flag down a waitress, ordering yourselves another bottle of wine.

Astarion becomes genuinely concerned when you return home late one night.

The two of you have grown comfortable together in your house, just on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate, in a cozy corner of Rivington. The location allows you to continue your work with the guild, gives him plentiful access to any criminals that needed exsanguinating, and your former companions are never far.

It does mean that you will sometimes stay late in the city, working well into the sunlight hours– but you also know to send him a message on the days you stay out late. Otherwise your poor, beautiful vampire will waste away in worry.

“Where in the nine hells are they?” Astarion curses aloud on this particular dawning day. He’d tried sending a message to you, only to receive nothing back. He’d sent another to Shadowheart, again to silence. He considers trying someone less responsible like Karlach, when you finally burst through the front door.

“Oh! Astarion,” you say, surprise plain on your face. As if he wouldn’t be here, in your shared home no less, waiting for your arrival. “What are you still doing up?”

He watches you silently for a moment as you tuck something behind your back, straighten out uncomfortably. Then, with all of the annoyance he can muster, he rolls his eyes at you. “It’s lovely to see you too, my dear. It’s not as if I was worrying my gorgeous head off at the thought of you dead in some rank Baldurian gutter.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, shuffling around the room in a rather suspicious manner. “I lost track of time. I figured you would go to bed without me.”

Astarion can’t remember the last time he went to bed without at least knowing where you were. Even if he could, he suspects he really would rather not. “Darling, you know I need my warm-blooded lover by my side to enter my reverie. Besides, what could have possibly taken you so long?”

You hesitate, and something tugs at Astarion’s insides. He feels a sudden sense of fear, a dread that he may regret asking you this question. 

What if you’re upset at him, and this was your way to maintain space? What if you’ve finally, rationally taken a look at your situation and determined that no, you’d really rather not love a monster like himself? Or worse, what if you’d found someone else, someone who could bask in the daylight alongside you? Gods, the idea sends his undead heart plummeting.

Just as you’re about to open your mouth to answer, he rescinds his question, “Nevermind. I don’t want to know. I merely wanted to make sure you were alive. You’re looking as sprightly as ever, so I shall head to bed.”

He doesn’t wait for your response, heading to bed in a dramatic swirl and even more sensational thoughts. 

He’s right, he knows it to his core. You’ve found someone else, someone who can give you the life he never could. More than anything he wishes he had the courage to confront you, especially as all of your odd behavior clicks into place.

They snuck off to find a lover.

They were staring at my hands in the hopes that they were someone else’s.

They stayed out late to relish in another’s company.

They’re aloof because they’re leaving me and it’s all a matter of time.

It’s as plain as day. How could he have been so very, very blind?

__

You had concocted a nice, simple plan.

It involved a ring, a smattering of your closest friends, and a particularly prickly vampire. Ideally, the plan ended with the vampire agreeing to marry you.

Gods. The idea thrills you as much as it scares you: you are actually going to propose to Astarion.

After years together, you and Astarion are practically already married. This is merely a formality in your mind. But of course, for a man like Astarion, it's a formality that means only the utmost effort must be put in.

But, as it always goes in your life, your nice, simple fell apart.

The problem you're finding is that, after weeks of preparation and secretive planning, the man is being oddly distant. Distant and dismissive. It's almost as if he knows something is afoot, and he's utterly determined to make sure it doesn't happen.

Five times now he has thwarted your attempts at a proposal.

"Astarion," you had started the first time. "Would you like to take a walk in the park with me tonight?”

The look he’d given you was equal parts wary and panicked. So much so that you thought maybe you’d misspoken. But his response was measured enough. “No, thank you, darling. I’m afraid I’m quite spent today.” He gave you a yawn to illustrate his point, and you dropped the subject for the night.

You had had to send a message to Shadowheart to call off the trail of poisonous flowers that your friends were laying out for your stroll.

The next time, you had tried being a bit more casual in your attempt.

“Would you enjoy a day at the spa, Astarion?”

Again, he gave you a look that confused you. Frightened face, hackles raised– his only response was, “Why, darling, do I look that ghastly to you?”

“You know that’s not what I–”

“No matter,” he’d waved you off. “I am afraid I’m busy today.”

You’d sent a message to Karlach, telling her that the reservation of Baldur’s Gate’s spa was no longer needed.

The third time, you’d called in some more magical help.

“Astarion, what do you say to a moonlit picnic atop the roof of the Elfsong? We haven’t had one in a while.”

Appalled– utterly and truly aghast is the only way to describe the face he’d made. The words that followed didn't make you feel better either. “And why would we do that again after such a long while?”

Your stomach had roiled, worry settling in at his tone. “I thought it would be a chance to reminisce together.” Your tone stayed light, your smile just as friendly.

“It’s far too cold to bother with reminiscing,” he’d said, glowering at you. Looking at the hard set of his jaw, this is when you’d begun to worry that you’d done something to upset him.

“Is everything alright?” you’d asked, reaching out for his arm.

“It’s fine,” he’d replied, curtly, retreating from your grasp. “I just don’t want to be colder than I already am.”

You’d sent a message to Gale, instructing him to call off the magical skywriting over the Elfsong.

For your fourth attempt, you knew you needed someone with a slightly more forceful personality– and to perhaps lean a little less romantic.

“Astarion,” you’d begun, inflecting your tone with just the right amount of panic. “Lae’zel’s found a flock of mephits along the beach of Wyrm’s Crossing. She needs our help.”

“Mephits?” he’d asked, looking at you cautiously. “In Wyrm’s Crossing?”

“Yes,” you’d replied, nodding hurriedly. “We need to go now.”

He’d clicked his tongue at you and shaken his head. “As if Lae’zel couldn’t crush them all with a single swing. Seems to me like she’s grown lazy after all of her heroics.”

“Astarion,” you’d chided. “You know she will incredibly cross at us if she finds out you declined to help.”

“I’ll survive,” he’d said, returning to the book on his lap, hands turning paler than usual in a tense vice grip. “Probably.”

After, you’d sent a message to Lae’zel, instructing her to do as she pleased with the stash of fireworks on the beach.

The fifth time you’d grown genuinely, truly worried that something was wrong with Astarion because, by the gods, the man had refused to commit crime with you.

After so many failed attempts, you’d figured that you needed to go back to the roots of your relationship– to a simpler time when petty theft gave you some time alone together.

“I heard a rumor through the guild,” you’d said offhandedly over dinner. “A newly minted noble in the Upper City has quite the horde of wealth and very little security. What do you say that we pay them a visit, perhaps ‘relieve’ them of some of their wealth?”

Astarion had faltered, clearly tempted by your offer. But after nearly two weeks of avoiding going anywhere with you, he didn’t outright agree either. “And why would you need me for this particular job?”

The question had taken you aback. You’d never needed a reason to invite him along for crime of all things. It made you near certain that he knew what you were up to and that something about it was distasteful to him. Sweet hells, it made you nervous. “I, erm… well, I could use an extra pair of hands to carry it all, I suppose?”

“I could lend you my pack then,” he’d said, narrowing his eyes at you.

Why is he trying to avoid me? Have his feelings changed? you’d thought in fear. Aloud, you’d only doubled down. “Well, the company might be nice. And you know that your lockpicking is, somehow, better than mine.”

“I thought you said security was sparse,” he’d countered.

“Sparse doesn’t mean nonexistent.”

“Not much of a challenge then, is it?”

You had wanted to scream into the astral plane. Wanted to flip the table over his pretty pale face. Wanted to tell him, ‘You know what, I didn’t want to marry such a stubborn vampire anyway!’ – but you did none of those things. Because you love this man and, even when he’s being difficult, you do want to marry him.

So you had gritted your teeth and said, “Very well then. I shall borrow your pack.”

You’d sent a message to Wyll later to call off his father’s help with the upper city guards.

For your sixth attempt, you decide you first need to reconvene with your council– also known as your former companions. 

When you’d first met with them at the start of this whole ordeal, you’d snuck away from Astarion. It made you feel a bit guilty, sneaking around, hiding things from him, but the entire proposal was meant to be a fun surprise– one you are starting to suspect is a misguided effort. 

You profess as much aloud now that you’re meeting up with the five of them again, seated around the table in Jaheira’s kitchen. “Maybe there is no sixth attempt. Maybe I’ve overestimated the love between us.”

“Don’t say that,” Wyll says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly in reassurance. “Your love is strong. And together we will find a way to make this proposal work.”

You smile up at the man, one always so willing to believe in the power of a good love story. You’re almost sorry to be disappointing him– and the smut peddlers. Really, you’re sorry to be disappointing all of your friends. Each of your companions had been eager to help you in your endeavor, in their own ways, of course.

Gale had congratulated you prematurely at first, misunderstanding your Sending spell. But when you’d clarified, asked him for his help, he’d only been incredibly enthused, arriving the very next day, offering all manner of suggestions.

Karlach, for her part, was only ever excited, practically bouncing off the walls that two of her best mates may potentially tie the knot. At the low, low price of allowing her to be your person of honor, she was entirely at your disposal.

Lae’zel had been confused initially. In her mind, you were already committed to a life together. What was the purpose of this… proposal? Of marriage? But when you’d explained to her a bit, she’d been curious– and excited at the potential of catching Astarion off guard.

Shadowheart had seemed surprised when you’d asked. You weren’t already married? Alas, she’d gotten the plot of one of the many bawdy novels about you confused with real life. No matter, she was happy to help.

And, well, Wyll– when he returned from Avernus he’d been disappointed that you weren’t at the very least engaged yet. It was no shock or awe to him when you visited him for help. In fact, he had only given you a wry smile and said, “I knew you would be the one to cave.”

As for Jaheira, well, she was allowing you to use her house as a headquarters, but had proclaimed early, “Invite me to the wedding and I shall be there, but until then– well, this is for you lot to figure out.”

And gods were you having trouble figuring it out.

“I don’t know, Wyll. I’m worried Astarion may never revert back to normal at this rate,” you say, shaking your head.

“Was he ever normal?” Shadowheart asks with a soft snort. “Besides, he can be awfully dense at times, you may just need to ask him outright.”

“There is not a single realm in which Astarion says yes to a simple proposal,” you say, brows furrowing. “You know he’d want something flashy.”

Gale raises a finger sagely before countering, “Well, my friend, sometimes what we want and what we need are two different things. I’m inclined to agree that you may just need to pop the question.”

“What if…” you trail off, your worries from the past weeks bogging down your thoughts. Somehow, despite everything you’ve been through, this seems to be your toughest challenge yet. “Do you think he knows what I’m doing and is simply too afraid to reject me?” you ask the group, turning to each of them with pleading eyes. You’re honestly not sure you can take his rejection, especially after the last five rebuffs.

“Not a chance in the hells,” Karlach answers. “I think he’s being a right idiot, actually. And if he knew what was happening, he may even say yes before you can so much as get the question out.”

“Really?” Your mood lightens a bit, her harsh words slashing through the hardened doubts that have settled over your heart. 

“Is it any surprise to us that Astarion is incapable of seeing the truth before him?” Lae’zel says, rolling her eyes. “Such sharp skills, yet completely dull in the face of our efforts.”

“Again, we may just need a softer touch,” Shadowheart suggests, tilting her head at you.

You’re not sure what a softer touch might be, and, from the silence that follows, neither are any of your companions.

Your resident wizard is the first to break the silence. “I could always create a simulacra–”

“Gale,” Wyll interjects, politely. “I’m afraid I don’t think that’s much softer.”

“Right,” Gale says, leaning back in his seat.

Another long moment of silence and you’re truly starting to feel defeated. You hang your head a bit, thoughts filled with the image of a certain beautiful, pale elf’s mouth curling at you in distaste, forming a pronounced ‘no.’

“Soldier,” Karlach starts. You look up to see her smirking at you. “If he won’t willingly join you anywhere. I think we both know what you need to do.”

–

They are going to sink the final nail in the metaphorical coffin.

For nearly two weeks now, Astarion has successfully avoided his lover’s attempts to get together in a public space– likely what they saw was the best, most civil way to dispose of him. But, foolish as it is to cling to something like a withered love, Astarion doesn’t want this relationship to end.

Perhaps, if I can do this for long enough, they will change their mind, he thinks. Gods, that sounds pathetic, even for him.

Astarion was running out of excuses, and, worse yet, running out of willpower. What is the use in fighting the inevitable? he thinks, as he walks down the streets of Baldur’s Gate. It’s a moonlit night, and he’s on the prowl for a criminal to bite– he needs something, anything to distract him from his woes.

He turns the corner, on high alert.

Then again, a more selfish part of him counters. Why shouldn't you fight for your love? They were the first good thing to ever happen to you in this damned world.

That’s when he spots them– the-first-good-thing-to-ever-happen-to-him is hiding behind a bush directly before him, facing another alleyway. There are very few reasons that they would be out at this time of night, in the middle of this particular street of Baldur’s Gate. While they could be on a mission for the guild, he had last seen them at home, reading by the fire. It’s clear that they followed him, are waiting to ambush him.

Is this it? he thinks, eyes narrowing. His chest hurts, more than ought to be possible given his lack of beating heart. Is this how desperate they are to be rid of me? May as well go out with flair, I suppose…

Astarion sneaks forward, careful to remain outside of your field of view. He settles behind you in the darkness of the bush, watching you as you look out for him. Despite the ache in his heart, the clenching of his stomach, he can’t help but think of how lovely you look under the moonlight– of how lucky he has been to have had you.

If this truly is it, he thinks. I can’t wallow or cry. I shall hold my head high and consider myself fortunate to have met them. To have loved them. At least, he hopes he’s capable of such a performance. Because right now, quietly crouched next to you, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to beg you to reconsider.

But no. He refuses to look pathetic– not after the life he has lived.

So, after waiting with you for a few minutes, he leans forward into your personal space and asks, “Darling, what are you doing?”

Astarion is ready for your instincts to kick in, so when your knife is drawn in a flash and you’re lunging for him, he’s easily dodging backward, holding his hands up in peace. “Now, now darling, I thought we were past the knives at throats.”

“Astarion?” you ask, startled. “Sweet hells, you haven’t snuck up on me like that in years.”

“Yes, well,” he says, avoiding your eyes now. He’s surprised by how much gazing into them has weakened his composure already. “You also haven’t looked so utterly distracted by your own thoughts in years either.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, ignoring his words. “I thought…”

Yes, dear, what did you think? he wants to ask, to catch you in the act with a cruel moment of revelation, to hurt you as much as you’re about to hurt him. But when he brings his eyes back to yours, he knows he can’t do that. While he’s still capable of maiming, killing, all manner of atrocities– he cannot hurt you. So he only says, “I was out hunting and I saw you hiding in a bush. What are you doing here?”

“I–” you falter, seemingly torn. Perhaps you’re having second thoughts. Perhaps this is his chance to keep you from breaking his cold, crumbling heart.

“Do you need assistance, dear?” he asks, ready and willing to show how much he would do for you. Anything, honestly, if it means you’ll stay by his side.

“Gods, I keep mucking this all up,” you mutter, head hanging in uncharacteristic defeat. “Maybe Shadowheart was right.”

What did that damned cleric do now? Is she the one you’re leaving him for? He’s about to make a reflexive, snide comment about her veritable barnyard of animals, but stops when he sees you sheath your blade. When you wipe a hand over your face in frustration.

Oh. You’re miserable. You wouldn’t look like this normally. You would never be this nervous, this stressed to see him– not unless his very presence had turned toxic. “I should go, shouldn’t I?” he asks, throat tight.

“No!” you say, reaching out a hand to keep him from leaving. Your grip is tight, painful in its panic, but he doesn’t complain. How could he when you look like this? 

More than anything, he wants this worry that lines your face to fade, the jittery movement of your hands to abate. So maybe it’s up to him to spark the beginning of the end… “Did you… have something you wanted to tell me?” he asks, swallowing down the fear that threatens to overwhelm him.

“I…” you gulp, bringing your second hand to join the first, loosening your grip. You raise your head, and he sees the tumult in your gaze. At the very least, you must care about him somewhat to stress yourself this much. “Astarion, please don’t be upset.”

How could he not? But, somehow, he manages a sad smile at you anyway. “As if I could ever be upset with you, my love.”

Then you drop to a knee in front of him.

– 

“Astarion,” you say, voice shaking a bit with nerves. “I had wanted this to be something lovely. Something meaningful. But… I guess you love ruining plans, don’t you?”

“What,” he breathes out, confusion plain on his face. His red eyes dart between yours, as if trying to process a sudden, large shift. You suppose it would be a shift in your relationship, even if you were practically married already. If he even decided to say yes.

You release his arm with one hand, reaching into your side pouch for the small square box that’s waiting for you. Fingers less dexterous than usual, you fumble over clutching it, opening it single handedly. You’re not used to looking this foolish, and you can feel a heat over your cheeks, an anxious shake to your movements.

But before too long the box is open, a shining platinum band resting inside.

It looks like everything you’d hoped for in the moment– its inlaid red rubies catch the moonlight just beautifully. You’d spent weeks agonizing, wondering if you had picked the right one, imagining what it might look like were it to be placed on his perfect pale finger. Here and now, with this man standing before you, you know it would look exquisite.

“Astarion,” you start again, courage returning to you with that knowledge, some of the words you’d prepared coming back to your mind. “These past years together have been the best years of my life. You’re my best friend, my dual blade, and I love you more than I can even say. I don’t know what our future holds, but I would consider myself lucky to walk towards it with you at my side. So…” You pull the ring from the box, holding it up to the man you love with a smile. “Would you, Astarion Ancunín, do me the honor of marrying me?”

Astarion Ancunín, despite years of quick quips and sultry words, seems to be frozen in place, unable to speak.

You’re used to these moments, when he needs to process, but you’re not used to them when you’re on one knee, waiting for a response. “Astarion?” you hazard.

“You’re…” he says, face slack, mouth barely moving. “You’re proposing to me?”

It’s not a no, but it’s certainly not the reaction you’d be hoping for. “Erm, yes. Is that… distasteful to you?” You can feel your hand recoil somewhat, your smile slip.

His expression remains blank, lips slightly agape as he continues to take in the scene before him. “You– you don’t have a new lover? You’re not planning to leave me?”

“What?” Now it’s your turn to be flabbergasted. “Astarion, what are you talking about?”

The sigh that leaves him then could collapse a small house. “Sweet hells,” he says, face and body relaxing. “I thought… I thought that you were acting odd, like– like–”

“Like I was trying to surprise you with the magnificent proposal you deserve?” you respond, suddenly understanding his behavior and growing a smidge annoyed. “Like I didn’t want to propose to you behind some damned bushes?”

Astarion looks around, as if just now realizing where you are, what is happening. “Yes, now that you mention it, like that.”

You want to be upset, but then the man above you laughs. It’s light, breathy, and utterly relieved. “You were really worried, weren’t you?”

“Oh my sweet love, I was about ready to jump into an Oubliette,” he says, shaking his head ruefully.

“You thought I would leave you, just like that?” you ask, brows furrowing in concern. Maybe you should have just proposed in your living room.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he says, looking down at you with a tinge of sadness in his smile. “I doubt that this was the life you were looking for, darling. As a matter of fact, are you… sure about this?” He eyes the ring in your hand, all but forgotten in his confusion.

You proffer it again, raising your hand a bit higher this time. “The only life I’m looking for is the one with you in it, Astarion. I am quite sure.”

His scarlet eyes dart between yours questioningly, and you merely stare back, staunch in your words and intent. “Even if I’m a fool that forced your hand– left you kneeling in the dirt?”

“We’ve done worse things on dirt, Astarion,” you say, smiling widening at the memory of the first time he’d told you he loved you. “If you’d like me to get out of the dirt though, you could answer my question: Would you marry me?”

__

Once more, he looks between your eyes, this time his are wide, open– daring to believe that his darkest fears are just that. Fears. Ones that you would vanquish without a second thought. How could he have been so blind to that. Moisture pools at the corner of his eyes at the realization.

So he drops to his knees, reaching for your face with his hands. In a single movement, he’s pulled you toward him, captured your lips with his with an undeniable longing. A longing to hold you in his hands for as long as he is able. A longing to taste your lips on his, each and every day. A longing to never be without you, to be yours until death do you part.

You respond to his kiss in kind, lips pressing against him with your own pent up longing. He distantly hears the ring’s box fall to the floor, feels your hand brush past his ear to clutch his hair. You kiss him like he’s the answer to every question you’ve ever had and he feels a small tear run down his face as his eyes squeeze tightly shut.

Gods he would never tire of kissing you.

I ought to respond, he thinks in the back of his head, as he moves his lips against yours.

Is this not response enough? he argues, not wanting to break apart from you, for even a moment.

No, it wouldn’t do to have any confusion, not after the past two weeks.

So, before he can forget himself, he pulls back from you, far enough to look into your eyes. “That was a ‘yes’ in case that wasn’t evident.”

You laugh, short and breathless. “Oh good,” you say, leaning back further and bringing up the ring between you. “Then may I?”

Astarion removes his left hand from your face, holds it out to you with a large, gleeful smile. “You may.”

You slip the ring onto his finger. It fits well, matches his eyes, looks positively sumptuous– as always, you know him too well. “It’s stunning,” he says, angling it one way then another.

“I’m glad you like it,” you say, smiling at the sight. “And that you didn’t catch me when I tried to sneak it past you.”

The vampire laughs, shaking his head free of his own silly thoughts. “I smashed your plans into tiny little pieces, didn’t I?”

You don’t say yes, but the look on your face is evidence enough. “I’ll tell you all about what you missed out on later. For now, we should, erm, go get our friends.”

“Go get our friends?” he asks, wondering what in the hells they have to do with all of this.

“Yes,” you say, planting a kiss on his hand before moving to get up. “They’re all in place for another one of these ill fated plans.”

“Ah,” he says, following you up. Then, realizing what you’ve said, he looks at you with concern. “Just what were you in this bush for?”

To your credit, you look abashed. But your words do nothing to lessen his concern. “Seeing as you were refusing to come with me, well, anywhere, we had to pivot our strategy.”

“Darling,” he starts, his tone a deceptive sweetness. “Whatever does that mean?”

“It was Karlach’s plan,” you say, as a means of explanation.

“Oh good. I’m sure whatever it was was perfectly sane then.”

Scratching at the back of your neck, you finally admit the plan, “I was going to give them a signal when you passed. Gale was going to make an illusory double of me getting kidnapped by the rest of them in disguise, then hopefully you would take chase to go save me, they would lose you just as you got to the Elfsong where I would be waiting…”

Astarion looks at you sharply, his mouth a disapproving line. “Really?”

“In retrospect, I can see the flaws in the plan,” you say, palms open. “But in my defense, I was getting desperate. Either way, we ought to go get them. Karlach seemed just about ready to explode from hiding that long.”

“Fine,” he says reluctantly. “This is what we get for having such imbeciles for friends.”

“Funny,” you start, holding out a hand to him. “They said the same about you.”

He takes your hand with an exaggerated eye roll, but can’t help the smile that comes over his face at the feeling of your fingers twining with his. “It’s a shame you had to resort to them for help.”

“I really needed it. You know, I have killed more people than I can count, but you have been my most challenging mark by far,” you say, dramatically as you begin to walk down the alleyway.

“Worse than the giant, world-ending brain?”

“Oh yes.”

The two of you walk in silence for a few steps before Astarion feels compelled to say one last thing before reaching your friends. “Darling, I truly am sorry I ruined all of your plans, but I must ask: Please don’t try to surprise me like this again.”

The expression on your face deflates a little, and you say, “I thought you would like something grand?”

He brings your hand up to his lips for a soft, reassuring peck. “Normally, yes. But, I love you so very much. I’m afraid it clouds my usually impeccable judgment.”

You don’t comment on his judgment, instead focusing on his proclamation of love. “I love you too. So, hopefully, there isn’t a second proposal.”

“One can only hope,” Astarion says with a laugh. “And, if there is, perhaps it’s my turn to do the proposing?”

“Love, if you surprise me, I may kill you,” you say, plainly.

“A risk I’ve always been willing to take, my dear,” the man replies, pulling on your hand. “Now, come. I think I can spot Wyll’s peeking eye from here.”

Hand-in-hand, the two of you walk toward your waiting friends, ready to tell them the good news.

It wasn’t the grand proposal you had envisioned. Nor was it even a particularly romantic one. But, somehow, it was still perfect, still loving, still the beautiful new beginning to the rest of your lives together.

[wisecura]

Nanny

SatoSugu x f!reader (if I’m being honest I didn’t realize—) Wc: 8.7k, and then

summary: Isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen, you sell yourself to the Gojo Clan in an attempt to change your favorite characters fates. You change many things, and are able to see the boys grow peacefully, yet now with them out of the clan house you find yourself in a predicament. Your arranged marriage.

AN: I will be going back through and editing this so pleaseeeee be aware and patient (not that you aren’t already 😉)

Warning: yandere, manipulation, gaslighting

What direction should I take this?

It had been a restless evening, the emptiness of your house only adding to the unease. With your husband away on another mission, worry consumed you, and you found yourself checking your phone obsessively. He’d been getting back to back missions recently, the next tougher than the previous. When a message from *Satoru*  flashed on your screen, you sighed, knowing him well enough to brace yourself.  He’d been texting constantly, asking how you were, each question playful yet persistent. But tonight was different.

> “Hey, open up! I brought some company. 😉”

Before you could even think of a reply, there was a knock on the door, quick and insistent. Your heart skipped—you knew Satoru well enough to know he didn't need to wait for an answer. In typical fashion, he’d decided to make an appearance without a second thought. And, of course, Suguru would be there as well, always close behind. Always following Satoru’s impulsive ideas with a tact and restraint that balanced his friend’s recklessness. It’s always been this way. It had been over a year since you’d seen either of them in person, so maybe you should have expected this—an unannounced visit, catching you completely off guard.

Opening the door, you found Satoru and Suguru standing there, too comfortable, as if they’d belonged in your entryway. Satoru’s grin was wide, a touch smug, his sunglasses pushed up on his head so his bright blue eyes could bore directly into yours. Beside him, Suguru wore a slight, closed-eye smile that softened his expression but did little to ease the quiet intensity in his gaze. Satoru looked amused, mischievous, and undeniably pleased to see you, while Suguru’s calm, patient stare held you in place, as if daring you to turn them away. Before you could say another word, Satoru invited himself in, pushing past you.

“Well, look who’s finally decided to grace us with her presence,” Satoru’s voice rang out, laced with that playful edge, as he swept past you, already making himself at home in your living room. “A whole year, and you’re acting like we’re strangers. Not very welcoming, Mrs. Kamo.” His voice dropping in tonnage at the mention of your new surname. 

A shiver ran down your spine at the way he dragged it out, each syllable laced with a mocking drawl. You still weren’t used to hearing it. The new name felt foreign, like a title you hadn’t quite claimed.  Suguru, still lingering by the doorway, let his gaze meet yours, that faint smile on his lips—one that seemed strained at the edges, as though he was just as unsettled as you were. There was something in his look that was patient yet pointed, as if he, too, was piecing together the reality before him.

Satoru set a bag of snacks on the coffee table, his eyes sweeping over the clean yet modest room, taking in every detail with a slight arch of his brow, as if comparing it to the grandeur of the Gojo clan estate. The heat crept up your cheeks under the weight of his silent judgment, and you felt a prickle of self-consciousness under their scrutiny. You finally made your way fully into the living room. Suguru followed a step behind you, his gaze tracing the details of the room and lingering over subtle hints of your husband’s presence: a jacket draped over the arm of a chair, a pair of shoes neatly set by the door. No pictures though. You could feel their silent appraisal, the faint tension crackling between the three of you.

The reality was sinking in for them now. They had heard, of course, only a week after you’d married—a brief, cold announcement that their former nanny, their constant presence, was now married to some grade 2 sorcerer from the Kamo clan. The shock had been palpable, but they hadn’t received so much as a word from you about the whole thing. Not a single explanation. It was as if you’d vanished, leaving only a name and title they barely recognized. Your text messages after the news, became short and distant -- less casual, evading any mention of your husband or your new life. Your schedule suddenly filled, enough to displace your meet ups. Satoru and Suguru had been busy after that. Very busy.

Suguru’s typical restraint seemed to slip, his normally calm demeanor laced with the same faint bitterness as Satoru’s. He was calm, but his words carried a bite, a hint of something you hadn’t expected from him. “You know, Satoru,” he began, his voice soft-purring almost, yet laced with mirth, his eyes sweeping over your modest home, “it’s not really her fault. She’s newly wed, after all.” His voice carried a strain, colder than you were used to, his tone dipping into a mocking edge. “Honeymoon phase 'n all.” 

You felt the sting of his words and braced yourself for the inevitable teasing, knowing they had likely heard about your marriage from someone other than yourself. They were bound to find out, and deep down, you knew you had this conversation coming.

Still, you’d convinced yourself it wouldn’t be as big a deal. They had moved out of the clan house, each finding their own paths. Satoru, ever the rebel, had shirked his responsibilities as clan heir, showing his familiar disregard for tradition and hierarchy. He’d never been one to follow the rules, and you had thought—maybe naively—that this wouldn’t matter so much.

His focus honed in on the two children he'd taken in-Megumi and Tsumiki. Suguru, through your insistence maintained his missions to life balance, having also taken in the two girls he met in that village-Nanako and Mimiko. Something you'd advised him on before things had gotten out of control, like in the original story. Your small interferences in this world that allowed for more peace.

Adjusting to life-in this new world had been jarring at first; you hadn’t expected a second life, especially not after your first ended so soon. You’d read the Jujutsu Kaisen manga, even watched the show. So the cold, isolated world of their childhoods was something you were painfully familiar with. Satoru, at least, had the prestige of his clan, while Suguru’s circumstances were far worse than you’d realized. Using your cursed energy-your life-as leverage, you struck a deal with the Gojo clan-securing a place as Satoru's caretaker. Weighing your life on the line, and your compliance with any request the current clan head deemed necessary. And with this promise you were allowed to bring in Suguru. Suguru, once you found him, required little convincing, his situation had been far more unfavorable than you'd of guessed. Despite being only a few years older, you’d practically raised the two boys. Together. The way you thought it should've been. And when they made it through high school still loyal to one another, you felt a deep satisfaction-pride, hopeful for the future you’d managed to shape.

Now, standing in your small home with them after such a long separation, a tentative smile found its way to your lips. The tension, palpable. You tried to ease into the conversation, letting warmth slip into your voice as you went to shut the door. “It’s so good to see you two,” you said, hoping to mask your own discomfort. “I wasn’t expecting you to just… show up…” you hastily corrected yourself, “but you’re always welcome here. I’ve just been busy—”“Busy ignoring us, yeah?” Satoru cut in, eyes still roaming your living room, sounding like he was putting a great effort into maintaining his playful yet bored persona.

The underlying bitterness was still there. He threw himself onto the couch with an unamused scoff. He patted the cushion beside him—a silent command for you to sit—his gaze steady, almost expectant. But you stayed where you were, studying him with a cautious eye. Satoru could be bratty, sure. He’d thrown tantrums before, though they never went beyond pouting and whining, which usually resolved with him clinging to yours side or Suguru’s until his mood lifted. Even as he grew older, that side of him never faded. Clinging was just something he did, a comfort you’d grown accustomed to.

But this time, he seemed more wound up, his tone just a little more cold that you'd like. Not that you were scared he'd hurt you, but you knew you didn't know where this conversation would lead. the unexpected, yeah?

When you didn’t take the offered seat, he rolled his eyes, and his tone sharpened as he continued, “You didn’t even tell us about the wedding. What was up with that, huh? Did they threaten you or something?” His question caught you off guard, a bluntness you weren’t prepared for beneath his casual delivery. Across the room, Suguru leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze calculating-watching the conversation unfold- ready to step in if needed. His posture was relaxed-with great effort. The silence stretched, his presence somehow heavier than Satoru’s, until finally, when he felt you wouldn't answer, he spoke.

“Satoru’s right.” His voice was smooth, calm, but the bite never left his words. “You never even told us about…” He paused, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he seemed to search for the right term. “Him. And now here you’re married and… preoccupied.” His words felt deliberately chosen, disapproving. 

You hesitated, feeling their unwavering gazes pressing down on you, making it difficult to find the right words. You had to explain yourself. You knew you did. These two boys, whom you raised and grew up with. Who you protected and cared for. At least you could try to explain yourself, without you giving away the deal you struck with the current Gojo Clan Head. The man that took you in that day. The promises you made.  

 “It wasn’t personal,” you sighed, feeling your voice waver. No. You couldn't falter now. Yet, the explanation felt hollow even as you spoke. “And no, I wasn’t threatened,” you added, a small, half-hearted attempt at a joke that fell flat. “I just… I thought the higher-ups would have informed you. It wasn’t meant to be a secret.” Distance. You've always been reminded to keep your distance from the two.  You look away somewhat guilty, knowing how bland your answer was. It really hadn't been personal. You just knew how busy they were. And with the pressure from the higher ups to move forward...quickly… and the reminder from your Clan Head of your duty. Your role in this society. 

Satoru snorted, crossing one leg over the other, his arm stretching across the back of the couch in a way that took up far more space than necessary.

“Yeah, because I love getting news about you from the higher-ups.” His eyes glinted with a rebellious spark, a hint of challenge in his voice. “But you couldn’t tell us yourself? Not a single heads-up? Didn’t think to mention it in any of those text messages? C’mon, you’re better than that, aren’t you?”

Suguru’s gaze softened as he took in your discomfort, his voice slipping into a low, coaxing tone. He knew what Satoru was doing-but he at least needed to soften you up a bit. Satoru was never one for social cues. “We were only a little surprised, you know,” he murmured, confirming Satoru's words, gently. “We thought you trusted us. At least enough to tell us.” His words lingered in the air for a moment. His thoughts turned to a slightly darker place, once again feeling a little peeved that you hadn't even whispered a word about this to them before.  His expression grew colder-not really able to stop it, more guarded as he seemed to think his next words over. “But it seems like your marriage took priority. Did you think we wouldn’t care? That we wouldn't have anything to say about this?”

You knew what he meant. With how close you were when growing up, not even hearing it from you directly would come as a shock. And with how busy you've been lately….and with your husband's requests. “I’m sorry if I made you feel…” you trailed off, hands wringing together as you searched for the right words. “But it’s not as if I chose him… you know that. The higher-ups arranged it. It all happened so fast, and Itaru doesn’t really like me talking—”

“Ugh, don’t even say that name,” Satoru cut you off quickly, his face scrunching up with barely concealed disdain. His words felt like a slap across the face, and he looked at you as if the very mention of your husband was somehow a personal attack. Surprise was an understatement. You had no idea where the hostility for your husband was coming from. For you? Sure. Before you could dwell on it—Suguru’s hand found your shoulder, a steady touch, though his gaze held an edge that mirrored Satoru’s irritation.

“We’re not interested in hearing his excuses. We’re here for you,” he said softly, as though he was talking to a child. Scolding. “And if he’s already setting boundaries on who you can talk to… well, that’s a problem, no? Especially if he's keeping you from us.”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed at your lack of response, a faint smirk forming, though it was devoid of humor. “Let me guess,” an uncharacteristic sneer plastered on his handsome face, “He’s got all these ‘concerns’ about you staying close with us. Convenient, isn’t it? Distancing you from the people who’ve actually looked out for you. Manipulating you into thinking he knows what’s best. What a sly little rat.” You hesitated, words failing to form as Satoru’s words sunk in-almost wanting to defend the man you agreed to marry. The truth was complicated, far more delicate than he was making it sound. Itaru had only requested a little distance from other men, something he’d framed as temporary. He hadn’t forced anything, just… gently insisted. And even when you’d explained to him that Satoru and Suguru were like family—brothers, practically—it hadn’t made much difference. He’d merely restated that it was just for a little while, an adjustment to settle into this new life. Especially while he was being assigned to an ungodly amount of missions recently. He didn't trust that the men around you wouldn't notice a lonely housewife when they saw one. Not that-that-was on your mind, anyway. 

But how could you phrase that now, standing before them?

Suguru’s gaze remained soft, condescending. “So… that’s what he’s asking of you? That you keep away from us? All those months…” His tone even but cold. “Is that really what you want?” “N-no that's not how it is-,” you tried. Satoru crossed his arms, leaning back, challenging you to explain. “Why’s he so worried, huh? Because he doesn’t trust you?” His voice dipped, mocking. “Or maybe he doesn’t trust us, because he knows he doesn’t measure up. He’s worried he can’t compete with what’s already here.” His arrogance, back in full swing. Even with the years spent "counseling" him, you still couldn't knock that bad habit of his. 

You felt like they were twisting your words around, or maybe you just weren't explaining things properly.

But you had your doubts about following through with this too. You knew Itaru’s intentions weren’t necessarily mean, that he was just cautious, wanting to ease into things his own way. But now, under their scrutiny, your reasoning seemed thin, flimsy, as if you were the one desperately grasping for excuses. It didn't help that you felt guilty for not mentioning it before. Your marriage, the move, the reasoning behind your distance, you always opting out of the limited meets ups they scheduled with you. But standing here, with Satoru’s sharp gaze cutting through your feeble defenses and Suguru’s quiet intensity drawing out every buried doubt, you wondered if you’d been deluding yourself this entire time. You'd grown so close with them over the years. They could read all your tells.

“I didn’t mean to push you two away,” you murmured, unsure of where this was going-what they wanted you to say here, looking away from their intense gazes. “I just… thought you’d be busy with missions, training—”Satoru laughed, shaking his head as if the half formed excuse was already ridiculous. “Missions? Training?” he echoed, his tone layered with disbelief.

“You really think we’re that busy? You think we’d just… forget about you?” He held your gaze, “Come on, sweetheart. You should know us better than that.” He glanced at Suguru, exchanging a wordless, intense look, sharing a silent conversation between themselves. Just as they always seemed to do. Suguru’s hand that had rested on your shoulder had drifted to your arm, his fingers brushing against your skin, lingering with an intent that was impossible to ignore. He leaned in a little closer, “We missed you,” he admitted softly-almost a whisper, though the subtle edge in his voice told you he wasn’t wholly satisfied with the answer you’d given. The gesture giving you whiplash from the previous tone of the conversation. “It’s been… strange without you around. Lonely.” The word slipped from him like a secret, his voice carrying a vulnerability that made your chest tighten.

You swallowed, the ache in your heart threatening to burrow further. The distance you’d thought would be manageable had weighed on them more than you’d realized, and the hint of desperation in both their words had stung, enunciating the fact that your absence hadn’t gone unnoticed as you’d hoped.

“I didn’t know it would… be like this,” you whispered, feeling the confession tumble out before you could stop yourself. Satoru stood up now, stepping into your space with an unsettling confidence. He leaned in close, so close you could see every fleck of color in his brilliant blue eyes. He seemed taller than you remembered—or maybe it had simply been that long since you’d last seen them. “You really thought you could just get married and… disappear?” You knew a threat when you'd heard one, and his tone of voice left now room for second guessing. You couldn't help the shiver that ran up your spine, reminding yourself that this was the same boy you’d once held close after a nightmare, his tear streaked face buried in your comforter. “You don’t just get to leave us like that. You can’t just drop out of our lives. We’re still here, aren’t we?”

You opened your mouth to somehow explain that things had changed now that you were married, but Suguru stopped you in your tracks, his hand brushing lightly over your collarbone, a touch that lingered just a bit too long, sending your heart racing. The meaning behind his actions-not entirely clear, yet there was an undeniable...intimacy to it, one that left you feeling strangely off-balance. Far too close for comfort. “We’re only here because we care,” he murmured, his voice soothing but insistent. “You don’t need to keep things from us.” He stood like a voice of reason. Like the good cop in this interaction, alleviating the harsh words Satoru spewed at you. Yes. Suguru could navigate most social situations. He knew just what to say and how to say it, even if Satoru didn't. They were tag teaming. Convincing you that this had not been a wise choice. Their tones punishing, yet soft enough to prevent you from closing off completely-

Their gazes met again, and the two shared a silent exchange, a flicker of understanding passing between them before Satoru’s smirk grew wider. Finally, stepping back and standing up straight, he gave you a sliver of space. Some breathing room, though his gaze remained fixed, unnervingly smug. His stare heavy, looking down at you. His voice dripped with mock sweetness. “So, tell us—how’s married life treating you?” he asked. “We’re absolutely dying to hear all about it.”

Whiplash. What the hell. You can't say you're completely surprised. The two had always been a troublesome pair. Perfect together, yes. But troublesome. Always keeping you busy. And always knowing how to get what they wanted. What did they want from you? Another apology? You begging? You hesitated, feeling a sense of vulnerability in the change in questioning. “It’s… fine,” you managed, your voice barely steady. “He’s… a good man,” you added, though the slight tremor in your voice didn’t escape their notice. You firmed yourself in your position, nodding along with yourself. They hadn't expected you to say something like that. Maybe some complaining? Maybe a request for them to take you home? But you seemed relaxed. You didn't seem to mind sharing your home with a stranger. With your husband. 

Satoru’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of dissatisfaction playing across his face as he leaned back, arms crossing over his chest, contemplative but unyielding. “A good man, huh?” tilting his head with an almost lazy smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Funny, where is he now? Always leaving his new, little wife all alone?” His tone was sharp, but his actions feigning nonchalance, yet he was daring you to argue. To defend him. “Seems… pretty absent to me,” he added airily. Bored. 

He couldn't be serious. Sure he might be upset with you for keeping your marriage a secret, but you weren't stupid enough not to see the open hostility he seemed to have for your husband. It still felt somewhat unwarranted. The way your husband was acting wasn't abnormal for a husband…right? The missions were part of his duty; you knew that much, even if it meant barely getting the chance to know him, your husband constantly whisked away before he could even settle back into life at home. Your relationship was shallow, even at face value. But he was still a person

Still, the thought crept in—how odd it was, this never-ending string of assignments. And how Satoru seemed to know about your husband's absence in the home. Especially when you refrained from talking about him in the first place.  You look at Suguru, knowing he was the more level headed one of the two, hoping for some kind of control on Satoru's mouth. Suguru, however, seemed to have no intention of letting this slide.

Suguru’s hand tightened gently on your shoulder, his gaze softening but his voice steady, insistent. “You deserve someone who’s there for you,” his voice was as smooth as ever, his eyes meeting yours. “Someone who would put you above any mission, any duty.” His words struck a nerve, surprising you. Surely, The Suguru Geto wasn't belittling your husband for simply fulfilling his role as a shaman? But really, how would they even know about his increased assignments?

The words hung heavily between you, the weight of their shared focus making it hard to look away. They were both so close, their combined presence overwhelming, making you feel a strange mixture of familiarity and unease. The way they spoke, the way they watched you—as though they were challenging you to deny their support, to pretend you didn’t need them, to tell them to leave. You could almost feel the certainty radiating from them, that subtle insistence that seemed to imply they were the only ones who truly understood, the ones who’d be there, regardless of what anyone else thought. It was a weird sensation. 

And maybe they were right. But this wasn’t exactly fair to your husband, was it?

You took a steadying breath, trying to ease the tension rising between you and the two of them. “It’s not fair to judge him like this,” you said, forcing a small smile. “He’s just doing what he’s been asked to do. It’s not like he’s choosing to be away.” You reminded yourself of your duty—the terms you had agreed to when you joined the Gojo clan. This marriage had been requested to strengthen ties with the Kamo clan, to bring about peace-and maybe for them to provide a few other benefits for your clan. And really, the man you married was mild-tempered at worst, a good match in every way. He wasn’t a bad man.

Your words seemed to hang, suspended in the charged silence. Satoru’s expression had shifted from mockery to something darker, his playful edge dulled by the hard gleam in his blue eyes. He studied you, jaw tense, his usual teasing still nowhere to be found. You almost felt scared.

“You’re defending him?” he asked, a boarding on mixture of disbelief and chill, a hint of jealousy just barely concealed. His gaze sharpened, almost accusatory, as if the very thought of standing up for your husband was the worst thing you could have done in that moment. “Tell me…you don’t actually… love him, do you?” The words lay in the air for a moment. Your pulse quickened as you struggled to respond. The intensity of his stare felt almost predatory, something raw and unsettled lurking just beneath the surface. You instinctively backed away, only to find yourself against Suguru, who steadied you, moving his other hand to rest snug on your waist.

Satoru’s bluntness had you reeling, leaving you scrambling for words, as you shook your head silently, unsure of your own movements. His tantrums from before noncomparable to this-“Satoru,” you began, reaching for a steady tone, hoping to comfort him. The familiar name feeling foreign on your lips. After all this time—another thing you’d kept carefully distant. You’d always refrained from using their first names, setting boundaries early on, convinced it was best, even though it felt slightly too formal. The clan head had warned you not to get too close, after all, but Satoru had always pushed back, testing that line with lighthearted, almost bratty tantrums, practically begging you to drop the formality. Only rarely did you give in, maybe a handful of times over the years, and yet here you were, saying it now to comfort him—just like before. 

“It’s an arranged marriage. Love doesn’t exactly come into it right away.” You attempted to placate him, not knowing how to handle his uncharacteristic outburst. His stare softened only marginally at hearing his name fall from your lips. You hesitated, attempting another soft smile, the silence still deafening. “Please,” You don't know what you were pleading for exactly. 

Satoru’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as though he hadn’t quite heard the words he wanted. He looked away, as if he couldn't bear to see you. Suguru remained beside you, hands in places they normally wouldn't be. His steady presence is as unyielding as ever, watching you with that same intensity, his fingers brushing your shoulder almost as if in silent support—or silent warning. You couldn't just shake him off right now.

This didn't feel right. 

And Suguru’s silence was as intense as Satoru’s gaze. His eyes held that familiar, unreadable look, his unspoken judgment impossible to ignore. He definitely wasn’t pleased either.

“Love shouldn’t come into it at all,” Suguru’s voice was low laced with a tension that sent a chill down your spine. “This arrangement… never should have happened in the first place. They had no right to decide this for you. Not with us here.” The possessiveness in his tone was now unmistakable. If his touches didn't give it away, his tone of voice surely did. Was he really doing this now? 

Satoru let out a frustrated scoff, his hand running roughly through his hair as if he could shake off his irritation. The charm he usually wore so easily was gone, replaced by a rawness that still managed to catch you off guard. “If I’d had any say in this,” he muttered, his tone holding an uncharacteristic bitterness, “you’d never have left the clan house, let alone gotten tangled up in this shit.” His gaze pinned you in place, his blue eyes glinting with something—something wounded, vulnerable. He seemed to grow desperate at the lack of your response. At the lack of your answers. 

“Why didn’t you come to me?” He seemed to be clinging on desperately to his last thread, pleading, a flash of hurt breaking through his usual bravado. “To Suguru? To either of us? At any time, had you just said something-you couldn't have wanted this.”   Right?  The question lingered, an underlying ache, an unspoken need for reassurance, for an answer that could ease the turmoil you caused. His voice begged for your placation. Begged for an answer that would satisfy them. 

“I… I…” Your voice faltered, caught in the swirl of emotions. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t anticipated feeling so cornered, so affected by the intensity of their focus. Satoru’s gaze remained fixed on you, unwavering, while Suguru’s steady presence beside you only added to the weight pressing down on your heart. His hand heavy. But it hit you. It finally penetrated your thick skull. 

The heavy emotion in their voices and the weight of their gazes struck you back through the years you’d shared together. Reminding you once again just who you were talking to.  How had you not pieced it together? Not noticing it before, only now, standing so close to them, you noticed all the subtle changes— In their actions. In their voices. In their build. They felt imposing, more like the men you’d seen glimpses of in the manga, and less like the boys you’d spent so many years watching over.

They've grown. And as dumb as this sounds, these are now, in fact grown ass men. Somehow, in your mind, they’d remained frozen in those younger years, the boys you could still think of as children, as wards, as brothers. You forget, you're not they only one aging. But now, there was a gravity in Suguru’s lingering grip on your waist-your collarbone, a fierce predatory hunger and desperation in Satoru’s gaze that had you questioning everything. Are they seeing an older sister being forced into an arranged marriage? No. That wasn't the expression a younger brother holds for his sister. And that's not the lingering touch a brother should have. You’d been their constant, their unwavering presence through everything—someone they could always rely on. It would make sense for them to see you as an older sister. But…

Before this, everything seemed to fall into place—that was, until the clan proposal blindsided you. The clan had given you a place, a purpose, and protection in this scary world, and with that came oaths and obligations you couldn’t refuse. The marriage was an arrangement, a duty you’d been forced into. You assumed a role that made you closer to them than any other clan member or servant. With only a few years separating you, you’d found a connection with them that no one else could. You had brought them together, raising them as brothers, childhood friends, ensuring they’d have a bond far earlier and deeper than the story had allowed.

When you’d first found yourself isekaied into Gaygay's world, your purpose had been clear: fuck as much shit up as you could-change the loneliness that had defined their past, fill their lives with warmth and support. This ripple will create the butterfly effect you so desperately hoped for. Piece by piece, you’d crafted a life for them that was closer to family, introducing them to each other, creating the foundation they needed to lean on each other—and, as time went on, on you. Shared dinners, afternoon outings, quiet nights, nightmares soothed, and shared beds on nights they couldn’t sleep alone. You’d become a trusted part of their world, and you hadn’t questioned what they might see in you. And how it might change. 

Something cracked within you, a flood of emotions and unanswered questions welling up, leaving you now on the verge of tears. Standing between the two of them as they waited for the answer that might finally satisfy them, even as you struggled to grasp what had shifted between you all. The realization hit hard, leaving you reeling, your stomach twisting at the newfound clarity. All those years you’d brushed off their glances, ignored the intensity that sometimes crept into their words, or the way their hands would linger just a second too long—it all seemed painfully obvious now. But this attachment—this deep dependence—was the inevitable consequence of everything you’d done to shield them from loneliness. This was your fault. You had wanted them to find stability in each other, to grow up without the isolating weight that haunted their futures, to sidestep the darker paths you knew awaited them. To avoid their eventual deaths. 

You’d always imagined yourself fading quietly into the background, a supportive figure as they grew into the powerful sorcerers you knew they’d become. They seemed well on their way to that future, standing shoulder to shoulder, inseparable and stronger than you’d ever dared to hope. But now, standing here under their unyielding gaze, you felt a different ripple of something you hadn’t expected—a need you weren’t sure you even could answer.  

Standing before Satoru and Suguru, you could feel the weight of their oppressive concern. They weren’t ready to let you fade into the background; to them, your life had always been theirs to protect. You'd always been seen as weaker-someone to protect, yet so warm. So theirs. And somewhere along the way, without meaning to, you had become more important to them than you’d ever intended. You loved them. You loved them so much. More than their characters in a book. You knew them now. 

Suguru broke through the silence, noticing your distant misty eyes, not wanting to lose you to your thoughts. His voice low, the barely contained frustration sending a shiver down your spine. “They had no right,” he murmured, his voice a fraction of a hair away from the shell of your ear, with a conviction that made it clear he was speaking for the both of them. “Not when we would have done anything—anything to keep you from being used like this.” he seemed to pity your situation. Pitying you. Vying to gain your attention back. They didn't want to see you cry. Ok maybe they did-But if it meant getting answers from you…taking you home… they'd probe as much as they needed to.

“I’m… I’m not being used,” your voice so small, the words sounding weak and wobbly. You knew they were empty, a hollow reassurance that didn’t fool anyone—not even yourself. You had been on the verge of tears before, and all it would take now, is one small kick in that dam.

The man you’d married was calm, steady—a safe choice. You try and convince yourself. Marrying into the Kamo family hadn’t been the worst outcome. not the best either.  You knew the dangers that lurked in the darker corners of Jujutsu society and were aware of the possible fates that could have awaited you if the clan had made a different decision. In that sense, this marriage was practical, logical, clinical. And yet, thinking things over, every reason you’d given yourself for going along with it felt so...insubstantial. If your assumption of their 'hidden' feelings were accurate, it would make sense as to why they'd be so nasty about the situation. In this moment, you couldn't even remember why you'd gone along with it-you sense of duty slowly being forgotten yet creeping in the back of your mind. 

“C’mon now, Doll.” Suguru’s voice was low, threaded with a taunting edge that sliced through the quiet, each word deliberate and laced with something that pinned you in place. The whisper against you ear had you shivering again. When the fuck did his voice get so-He moved over to meet your gaze with an intensity that was hard to meet, making you feel strangely small and fragile in his presence. Despite the fact that you were a few years older, his stance, his tone—it was all so… commanding. He’d never called you “Doll ” before. Satoru was usually the one to throw around the nicknames, playful and light. But this? From Suguru, it felt different—possessive in a way that unsettled you, yet damn near excited you. How did you even feel about this shift? The question barely had time to take root before he continued.

“You can’t be naive enough to believe the clan doesn’t have… ulterior motives marrying you off like that,” he continued, each word deliberate, dark eyes boring into yours with a gravity that made your stomach tighten. The accusation in his voice was sharper than you’d expected, laced with something almost akin to disappointment. It was as if he couldn’t believe you’d allow yourself to be manipulated, to be used by the clan without protest. The accusation sank in, filling the silence between you, leaving you scrambling for words that felt weak before they even reached your lips. “It’s not… it’s not as bad as you’re making it sound,”  what were you saying? Why were you denying it? 

“You’re not… happy here… right?” Suguru’s voice was low and smooth, his words more of a command than a question. The thought of you confirming your happiness with another man…His gaze expectant and unyielding, his eyes narrowing as he waited for a response. No. The question wasn't a question; it was a verdict, one he expected you to deny.

Before you could speak, Satoru’s voice cut through the air, sharp and filled with disdain.  “Why would she be, Suguru?” he scoffed, his tone mocking, vicious. He couldn't help himself. Arms crossed tightly over his chest, he looked at you with a hard glint in his eye. “He’s weak. Can’t protect her to save his life. Hell, he’ll probably die within a few months with the missions they’re throwing him on. It’d be doing her a favor, really.”

The words were merciless, dismissive in a way that made it clear. Satoru wasn’t merely being critical—he was condemning the man, speaking about him as though he were nothing more than a shadow, something insubstantial, barely worth acknowledging. His gaze flickered to yours, once again-daring you to say something, to offer a defense he wouldn’t allow you to stand by. Daring you to object, to defend the man they both considered unworthy of you.

“Satoru’s right,” Suguru’s voice almost gentle, as if trying to ease you into his words. Still so coaxing, wearing you down. “You’ve always deserved someone strong. Someone who wouldn’t need protection himself.” He paused, watching your reaction closely. “Not someone who’s one mission away from being carried out on a stretcher.”

Suguru tilted his head, studying you with a faint frown, his expression soft but no less intense. “What exactly did you think you were gaining by agreeing to this?” he asked, voice calm but pointed. “A protector? A partner?” He shook his head, lips twisting in a faint smile. “They could have picked anyone, and they gave you… him. Someone who can barely stand his ground, let alone yours.” Suguru let out a soft, derisive chuckle, seeming to laugh at his own joke. “He’s pathetic, really,” murmuring, his gaze flicking back to you. He's gotten more dramatic over the past year. “The kind of man who clings to you because he knows he could never measure up otherwise. Do you really want to be tied to someone like that? Someone who only brings you down?”

You felt your throat tighten, the instinct to defend yourself—and, by extension only, your husband, but Satoru’s eyes flashed, once again daring you to challenge him. “Don’t tell me you think he’s worthy of you, Sweetheart,” he said, his tone almost mocking, the pet name laced with double meaning now, as though the mere idea were laughable. “Someone like him doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near you. Let alone breathe the same air as you. He’s nothing but a pawn, doing whatever they tell him. And you’re too good to be dragged down by someone so… disposable.”

Suguru chimed in, his voice much lighter, coaxing you to your own answer, as he leaned a bit closer. “We just want what’s best for you,” he murmured, his tone soft but laced with the same underlying scorn. “You’re worth more than some mediocre man who can’t even hold his own. Someone who only got close to you because the clan handed you over like… property.”

“I… It’s not about that,” Shut up, you thought. You didn't even know why you were arguing. Why bother when what they're saying is true? You didn't want your husband to die. And with what you knew now, it seemed his assignments may not have been as random as you'd hoped. You needed a second to breathe. To think. You couldn't place your feelings for the two. Did you have those underlying feelings? maybe-yes

“Oh, isn’t it?” Suguru scoffed at your pathetic attempt to defend that weakling, the intensity in his eyes only growing. His chest right up against your back, staring down at you. Satoru crowding your front side. The two had you surrounded. Far too suffocating. “Tell me, Doll, would you trust him with your life? With your future?” That damn pet name was doing nothing to help your nerves. You felt pinned at this moment. The situation seems more…dangerous than it should. 

You felt your resolve wavering under their combined scrutiny, their words pulling at the insecurities you’d tried to ignore, the doubts you’d shoved down for the sake of stability. “It’s not… he doesn’t need to prove himself,” you managed, “Not like that.” You wanted to dispel some of their hostility, but you seemed to be failing.  Suguru’s gaze grew colder, a faint, disappointed sigh escaping him. “You’re defending him, again,” he said quietly, his tone laced with something that felt like reproach. “Why, exactly? What has he done to earn that from you?”

“What, is he good in bed or something?” Satoru’s words cut through the air, each syllable loaded with mockery that hit you like a physical blow. Your head quickly snapped to look up at him, your stare disapproving and awkward. The question and his tone felt so out of place, so direct, so vile, that you found yourself at a loss for words. His expression twisted in disgust, his nose wrinkling as though he could hardly stomach the thought, despite having put it into existence himself. “Ugh, to even think about that bastard’s hands on you…” His voice trailed off, eyeing you up and down as if he'd find your husband's traces on you. His tone filled with a revulsion that left you speechless. “He can’t be that good,” his tone a mix of disdain and something darker, possessive. “Not when he’s so weak. Wouldn't have the stamina to last longer than a minute.” He kept going. And going. 

Caught off guard by the sheer bluntness of the question. Dumbfounded. Words failed you as you struggled to piece together a response, embarrassed and unsure of how to address the accusations he was piling on. You felt your face grow hot, the embarrassment creeping down your neck. “S-shut up,” you stuttered out, unable to meet his eyes. His vulgar words trailing around the room, harassing you. It almost seemed like he enjoyed making you so uncomfortable. He ignored you.

“Satoru,” Suguru interjected, his voice calm yet carrying an unmistakable edge. His face remained controlled, almost serene, but his dark eyes betrayed a smoldering intensity, a fire simmering just beneath the surface. He gave Satoru a nasty look, as if telling him to behave. He finally sided with you this time it seemed. His gaze met yours, searching, as though expecting you to confirm or deny Satoru's initial concern. Your sex life. Was that why you were here? He couldn't see any other possibility. No protection. Always away. No previous relationship established. An arranged marriage. One that they could have prevented.

Why were you still here? The thoughts stirred in Suguru's head making him more and more restless at the idea of Satoru being correct. 

“Or,” Suguru finally said, ignoring Satoru’s pouty look as he continued muttering quietly to himself about your husband, and his supposed poor performance in bed, “maybe that's the reason you’re staying, huh?” He leaned in closer, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Is that what this is, Doll? He’s… keeping you around for other reasons? That weakling?” His voice far from friendly, giving way to something more devious and cynical. He was losing his patience. He'd only been wanting to hear it from you. What your reasoning was, but, like Satoru, he couldn't stand the thought of that limp dicked man fucking you. 

The words made your heart race, and you could feel your embarrassment clawing its way up, threatening to betray you further. “I-I..-what-,” you stuttered, head down, and your fist clenching. Your voice sounded so small, as you fumbled through the turn in the conversation, obviously never having breached a topic like

this with them before. 

Suguru’s hand reached out, warm and steady as it tugged your chin to face him. His touch was comforting in its own way, yet his expression still far from warm. He looked at you with a mixture of disappointment, curiosity, his dark eyes searching yours. “Really?” he drawled, his voice a low whisper. “Is that what this is? Because, from where we’re standing, he doesn’t seem like he’s offering you anything you couldn’t find elsewhere.” His thumb traced a gentle line along your lips, his gaze intense. “Or am I wrong?” He simpered. 

Satoru’s hand came to rest on your other shoulder, his fingers warm, sending a shiver down your spine as he leaned in. “You’re a beautiful woman, Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice dropping. “You deserve someone who you wouldn't settle for, someone who could actually keep up with you… please you.” His lips quirked up in a smirk, voice suggestive. “And let’s be honest here… he isn’t that man.”

Your face flushed even deeper, caught between the two of them, their words pressing in on you, along with their looming figures. This conversation was growing painful, circling around and around. You felt like it wasn't going anywhere. Not that you could do much to help it. When they had a goal, they achieved it. “It’s… complicated,” your last attempt. Hoping they'd drop it. Hoping that that was the end. Why were you even bothering keeping your situation a secret? Your promises? 

“Complicated?” Satoru chuckled, shaking his head as though the idea was ridiculous. “Oh, come on. It’s not that complicated. You’re married to a man who’s leagues beneath you. Do you really think he’s what you need? That he could satisfy you properly?” His gaze flickered over you, intense and unyielding, and you could feel the question hanging in the air, heavy and loaded. The question was uncomfortably intimate, each word laced with accusation. Satoru held your gaze, the silence stretching between you heavy and loaded, and you felt as though they could both see right through your hesitation. “If he’s everything you want… everything you need,” Satoru murmured, his voice soft, coaxing, “then why does it feel like you’re trapped?” 

His words were gentle, soothing, and framing the accusation as your own. His eyes remained on you, steady and intense, and you felt the weight of his question press against your carefully constructed reasons. They were putting words into your mouth. You knew it. Yet you could admit, it did kind of feel as though you were trapped. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck, caught in your throat. Finally you kept your mouth shut. The intensity of their combined presence, their fingers brushing over your skin, the steady, unyielding weight of their gazes, made it hard to focus, hard to even think. You wanted to go home. 

“Come back with us,” Satoru murmured, his voice smooth and persuasive, his hand slipping to cup your cheek, taking it from Suguru. He tilted your face up to meet his piercing blue eyes. “We’ll take you back to the clan house. We know we’ve… neglected you, left you to figure all this out alone. We won’t make that mistake again.” “B-but I can't defy the clan head…the higher ups…I promised-.” your voice came out somewhat strained.  Satoru’s expression darkened as he ran a hand through his hair, a grimace tugging at his features. He had hoped to wiggle some confession from you. Wanted to see just where your heart lied, and whether it was worth killing off that waste of space husband of yours. 

“And who do you think is running the clan now?” he grumbled, voice laced with frustration. Giving you an out. Tell them you want out of this marriage.  You're shocked. The always so careless and flippant, Satoru Gojo had finally settled and taken hold of his responsibilities. Something you never wanted to pressure him into. He muttered under his breath, cursing the family he was supposed to lead—the family that had taken it upon themselves to marry you off without a single word to him, the heir. Until now, he’d distanced himself from the responsibilities that came with his title, choosing instead to focus on missions, on battles. But this—marrying you off without even a whisper in his ear—was a final insult. It disgusted him almost as much as the man they’d chosen for you. Spineless. Weak. Unworthy-

You swallowed. Before your marriage, both of them were constantly away on missions, caught up in their own responsibilities, and their time with you was sparse—a few hours here and there, sometimes together, but more often than not just brief moments in passing. After the marriage, your interactions dwindled even further as the clan pushed you to focus on your new “duties” and distance yourself from your past. 

His words sound tempting. A promise to take you home. To your familiar room. But what would happen then? Seeing your resolve finally waver, and your decision within reach, their interrogative assault seemed to be finally over. They would seal the deal. You gain reprieve from their questions and smothering gazes, as they seemed somewhat back to normal. Their eyes filled with nothing but warmness and affection towards you. Maybe it would be better to just go back to the clan house and let Satoru deal with the aftermath. He was still the strongest. What was really so wrong with letting him deal with the higher ups? Backing out of your duties. Out of your promises.  “Maybe…” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper, the words trailing off as you struggled to make sense of the conflicting emotions swirling within you, you avoid their gazes. You did love them. It was part of your reasoning for making those changes in the story. What would happen when you got home?  The question repeating itself in your head. They hadn't necessarily confessed to the feelings they'd shown on their sleeves. The idea of going back to the clan house, of letting Satoru handle the consequences, seemed like a relief, a way to escape the uncertainty and pressure you’d been feeling.

Satoru’s hand remained on your cheek, his touch warm and constant, as he leaned in for a hug. Finally embracing you. Sealing the deal. You hadn't realized just how much you missed their hugs. “It’s not complicated, Sweetheart. Just come with us. We’ll take care of everything, handle the fallout, make sure you never have another worm sleeping next to you ever again.”

You let out a soft laugh at this, finding such comfort in his arms at that moment. He was serious, despite his fronting it as a joke. You'd never be marrying another man, aside from himself and Suguru.  Suguru’s remained behind you, falling into the hug you shared with Satoru. “You don’t have to carry the weight of this alone,” he said softly, his gaze holding yours with a steady, unyielding warmth. “We’ve always been stronger together, haven’t we?”

You felt a sense of ease wash over you, the tension that had been knotting your stomach slowly unraveling in the warmth of their words, the gentleness of their touch. With them, the pressure and expectations seemed to slip away, replaced by a comforting familiarity that made the decision feel… inevitable.

“Maybe you’re right,” you murmured, feeling yourself give in, surrendering to the gentle coaxing in their voices, the promise of stability and support that lay within their eyes. The clan house, with them by your side, suddenly felt like the only place you truly belonged.

p. 2

come home

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[blackhairedjjun]

flying home to you - c.yj

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn reader | genre / tropes: angst -> fluff, non-idol au, friends to lovers | word count: 889 | warnings: profanity (just one "shit")

part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)

prompt - CHOOSE: sender, realizing the receiver is about to make a huge life-changing decision (literally anything, accepting a job offer, accepting a marriage proposal, leaving the country, ANYTHING!) tells the receiver that they’re in love with them, leaving them to choose between the sender and their original path. (requested by @forevrglow - “Can you do the [CHOOSE] prompt with Yeonjun and make it kinda like the ending of Friends? Y/N got an amazing job offer in another country and just as she's about to get on the plane, yeonjun arrives to tell her he loves her and then she gets off the plane”)

author's notes: hi bri, thank you so much for the request! i had to watch clips of the friends ending on youtube for this, i couldn't make it exactly like it just because airport security has changed so much since the show aired 😭 but i tried to keep the gist of your request, i hope you enjoy!

(also to anyone else reading this, please do not take this fic as career or relationship advice!! lmao)

neither the rumbling sound of your luggage wheels nor the roars of the airplanes overhead could drown out your nervous heartbeat. you approached the entrance of the airport terminal, bags in tow, and your nerves seemed to quake more and more with each step. as you found yourself in front of the glass sliding doors, you paused, inhaled deeply, and checked your phone for what felt like the hundredth time.

the electronic copy of your plane ticket was there, as were the email exchanges from your new employer. paris was at your fingertips and in a few hours it would be right in front of you, surrounding you, and even beneath your feet.

yet you still found yourself switching over to your text app and checking your messages with yeonjun. it had been a few hours since you sent a cordial “i’ll text you when the plane lands!” to him, and there was still no reply; he was typically the kind of person who replies as soon as he can, usually late at night before he goes to bed. he had read your text, but not responded.

this fact rattled your nerves more than the plane ticket, the email exchanges, or the flight. sighing, you pocketed your phone again and pushed thoughts of yeonjun out of your mind. maybe it got buried in his inbox...

you gripped the handle of your luggage again to wheel it over to the entrance, but your steps felt slower than ever. other passengers had to walk around you to enter the terminal. why were you so damn nervous? you knew that a new job in a new country was scary, but more than ever you felt rooted to the ground. at the back of your mind were images of your home, of downing beers with yeonjun in your kitchen, of his downcast expression when you told him about moving to paris...

“y/n! wait!”

you whipped around at the sound of a voice that made your heart beat faster. yeonjun stood in front of you as if conjured by your thoughts, out of breath, jacket hastily thrown on and hair tousled. 

“yeonjun, what are you...?”

“y/n, please,” he panted, “hear me out before you go...”

you were both in the way, and passengers shot glares at you as they headed to the terminal entrance. you moved aside, and yeonjun took the opportunity to move closer to you and take both your hands in his.

“i have to be at the gate by一”

“i love you.”

you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

yeonjun’s grip on your hands grew firm. “i’m sorry i never told you earlier,” he continued, voice cracking, “but i... i didn’t want to stop your dreams. i’m sure you’ll do amazing. but now that you’re leaving, and it’s real, and i don’t know when一 shit, i love you, y/n... i love you.”

you were trembling and yeonjun could feel it in your hands. he, too, was shaking, and it took every ounce of effort for him to keep steady.

your mind swam in a haze of thoughts, feelings, images. you remembered the way yeonjun held you when your ex broke your heart, the way his hands nearly brushed yours when he walked you home. you thought of home, of that tiny apartment where you’d stayed up with him talking about your dreams.

then you thought of paris. you thought of your dream job in your dream city. you imagined your new apartment overlooking the seine, and of the picturesque walkways lined with charming houses and old-fashioned streetlamps. your mind instantly created an image of you walking along them towards your new home, surrounded by fashionable locals in elegant coats... but you walked all alone.

where is your home? what is your dream?

then it all snapped together in high clarity.

you had been silent for a while, the thoughts too overwhelming for you to respond. yeonjun was still standing in front of you, and at your silence he dropped your hands. tears formed at the corners of his eyes and you swore you felt your heart break.

“sorry, i... i shouldn’t have said that. you should go...”

he turned to head back to his car. at first you couldn’t process it, and he moved slowly as if in a dream. then your senses caught up with you and you realized 一 yeonjun was walking away. your home, your dream was walking away.

“yeonjun!”

you ran towards him, nearly bumping into several passengers heading to the terminal. he caught you in his arms and his lips met yours; you melted into his embrace, kissing him back. he felt warm and his lips were soft, and you felt the warmth spread to your chest and set your whole body alight.

when you broke apart, you could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears. your eyes met yeonjun’s, shining with adoration,  and the thoughts and emotions swirling around you finally came to a still. 

“i love you too, jjun,” you whispered. “i can’t leave you.”

he pulled you in for a hug and you breathed him in, your face resting against his chest. his heartbeat fell in sync with yours.

“y/n, stay...”

you gripped him even more tightly and nodded. there was no way you could leave your home.

[silassinclair]

Hello there! So this is my first time requesting since i just started following you. So let me tell you, your Yandere Wild West Outlaw got me absolutley smitten and obsessed! i love your writing so much!!

Anyway back to the main subject and on with the request.

What about Maddox with an EXTRA Sassy darling. Like, full of and fluent on sarcasm (the kind that makes you go: DAAAAMN). The darlin' has a sharp tongue and retorts for any kind of bad words might be thrown towards her (and maybe, way later in the relationship, towards Maddox too). From really polite f-u's to tge sthraightfoward ones, she can reply and roast anyone.

Oh and a bonus head cannon (a little something that came to mind) after reading about the wedding rings. I can totally imagine the darling going from questioning about where Maddox "buys" all the weird gifts to just becoming immune, later in the relationship. Let's say Maddox comes back (to the temporary) home with a very strange object, like A very expensive porcelain/china vase and the darling just goes: "oh thank you. Please put it on the table. I'll be done with the soup and then take care of it"

Yea anyway i'll stop rambling now.

Sorry for the bad english. It's not my first language and it is past midnight here.

Have a great day/night ✨

We love sassy girlboss Y/n’s here. Thank you for submitting this request anon!! Hope it is to your liking <3

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Sassy Reader

CW// Y/n is a bully, Maddox gets his ego hurt, Maddox gets angry, Maddox is dumb

Masterlist

Maddox immediately knew that you were a spitfire when he first had a conversation with you. You weren’t the typical damsel in distress who when captured by the evil outlaw you’re forced into submission.

Oh no. There’s not a drop of submission in your body.

Maddox thought you would be useful to have around. You’d be his own personal maid! Maybe even like a housewife. But no…

“Clean my laundry if ya’ wanna live to see anotha’ day.”

“Alright alright, calm your tits. What should I clean first? The shirt with sweat marinated into the fabric or the undies with shit stains?”

“THERE AIN’T ANY SHIT ON MY UNDIES MISSY! IT’S DIRT!”

You’re a total pain in the ass. Whenever he tried to act cool or intimidating you’d immediately shoot it down with your words.

He hates it when you ruin his moment in front of other people.

He got really pissed after you made a jab at him in the middle of a duel.

“It’s just you an’ me boy. But we both know who’ll be standin’ by the end of this.”

“Hopefully it isn’t you.”

“SHUT UP Y/N! GET YOUR TUSH BACK INSIDE, I’M TRYNA’ HAVE A DUEL!”

Punishes you by tying you up and leaving you outside for the night.

He ignores your complaints about coyotes or rattlesnakes. He needs you to shut your mouth and give him some peace.

After that night of punishment though he noticed how you wouldn’t really talk to him often.

“Go shine my boots. And I don’t wanna hear a single complaint outta ya’.”

“Okay.”

“…”

Okaay so he fucked up.

The days drag on so slow without your quips and jabs! He never realized how funny the things you said are now that you’re gone.

Well you’re not gone, just more closed off now. But you may as well be gone. This isn’t like you at all to be so quiet and reclusive!

Maybe he was too rough in you? He did kill your Father and force you to be his housewife maid.

So doing what he does worst, he apologizes.

“Hey, ‘bout that one time I left ya’ outside. I realize that was silly of me cus ya’ coulda gotten eaten. So that was my bad.”

“So you’re sorry?”

“Yeah.”

He’s brushing Jasper’s fur, telling the horse how good he is. Cleaning Jasper is the only chore Maddox likes to do himself.

You’re sitting on a tree stump watching the man talk to his horse.

“You know Jasper’s a horse right?”

“Oh really? I thought he was a dog.”

The small smirk on your face after his little quip made Maddox feel like a million bucks.

That’s when he learned that he likes seeing you happy.

After the “Marriage”: (Read about it Here)

“Uhm what’s all this?” You ask your unofficial husband.

“This-”

He puts a brown sack down on the table. The sound of the contents inside clang together as he dumps it all out. A dozen chipped fine china plates come out.

“Is how we make our house a home sweetness. I hear housewives go crazy over fancy dishes n’ shit.”

Maddox stands there with a proud grin underneath his masked face. (He still hasn’t showed you his face yet btw.) He was like a dog showing his owner how good he is at retrieving sticks when playing fetch.

You look at him with an unimpressed quirk of your brow. “And where did you happen to come across such fine china may I ask?”

He shrugs and comes around the table to wrap his arms around you from behind.

“A buddy gave em to me.” His deep voice reverberates in your ear.

“Did you hold your so called buddy at gunpoint?”

“Would you be mad if I said yes?”

You groan and shakes your head back and forth. “Maddox you know you can’t just go around taking people’s stuff! Now the sheriff was probably alerted and is looking for you now. And why did you steal a bunch of plates!? Jasper can’t carry all this shit! We should only have what is necessary for survival you brute. Are you even listening to me!?”

But he only looks at you with lovesick eyes as you complain about how stupid he is.

“Princess did I ever tell you how sexy you are when you’re mad at me?” His hands go lower down your waist.

Rolling your eyes you smack his hands and leave his embrace, leaving him standing by himself like a kicked puppy.

“I have a meal to make so set the table with those plates you got. And no more stealing people’s things!”

“Yes ma’am.”

I appreciate all the requests that come in!! But I just want to remind all of you about my rules and that I do NOT write Y/n as a specific race. My writing is for everybody to enjoy!! She’s race ambiguous. Many people request that I write a Black Y/n but I’m not black so I won’t be doing that. If I write for a specific race then I feel like I’d just be stereotyping what black people are supposed to act like. So please don’t ask me to write for a Y/n that is a specific race. Thank you.

[agentmarvel]

center image by @/ave661

PART IV

hitman!ghost x fat!reader (afab, fem) w/ arranged marriage

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

rating: explicit

word count: 3,106

cw: genre-typical violence, non-descript injury

♡

Or perhaps you won’t.

You’re seething, teeth clenched and hands flailing as you express your resolute displeasure.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Simon! I’m old enough to shop alone!”

The tone of your voice borders on shrill, pitch rising with your temper. Fury rolls off of you in waves, incensed by the notion that you’d need one of his men following you around. Simon pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and middle finger, taking a measured breath as he contemplates what information you need to placate you. Perhaps he should’ve laid out the simpler rules first…

“Not a babysitter,” he grumbles, scrubbing that same hand across his jaw. “They’ll only be there to keep you safe.”

“From what? A fucking can of soup, Simon? New shoes? Rogue cart in a parking lot? Or, god forbid, a cashier that might ask how my day is going?”

“That’s not it - “

“Then what is it? Am I some sort of prisoner now? Scared I’m going catch a flight home and you’ll have to settle your debts like a grown man? Or is it just improper to have a lady in public without supervision? What fucking century are you living in?” You’re venomous in mocking him, fangs dripping with no intent of mercy, coiled up and ready to strike as soon as you find a soft spot. He’d like to say he understands, but you really have no reason to bite the hand that feeds. You don’t appreciate the gravity of the situation.

Simon utters your name softly, trying to pull you from your diatribe long enough to listen to reason. You’re not having it.

“I’m a person, Simon. I’m not your fucking property. I don’t need to be stalked by some half-wit thug with a God complex just because you are insecure. Believe it or not, I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. You can’t - “

“Just listen - “

“What’s next? Lo-jacking my phone? Hiding a tracker in my purse lining? Chipping me like a fucking dog?”

“Enough!” he snarls, curt and cold. He can feel his heartbeat in his ears, pounding like a drum. His fingers curl into his palms, fists clenching. Your eyes go wide at his thunderous bark, but your face doesn’t betray your surprise otherwise. “My job is… dangerous sometimes, alright? Enemies come easy, and a lot of ‘em. Rules are in place to keep you safe, and you will follow them. Don’t like it? I don’t fuckin’ care. This ain’t a game, love. Your life is not a fuckin’ game.”

“What do you mean, ‘dangerous’?”

He stays quiet.

“Simon, tell me.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Simon?” You’re almost pleading at this point, anger all but draining. In fact, there’s an edge of fear when you say his name. He hates the sound.

Your beautiful doe eyes stare at him expectantly, and he folds like a lawn chair. Stubborn little thing, prodding like a needle until you get what you’re after. He’ll never confess how weak he is for that darling gaze.

Simon sighs, shoulders sagging from their tense, defensive position.

“I’m a black market contractor.” It’s a half-truth, a muted admission, but it’s better than handing you a live wire and throwing you in the deep end. You’ve had enough shocks in recent weeks; if he can save you from one more, he will.

“That’s how you know my father,” you say after a beat of silence. He nods.

“More or less.”

“Okay.” It’s followed by a heavy exhale that puffs out your lips and round cheeks. As inappropriate as the thought is in the moment, Simon can’t help but find it winsome. “Can you just, uhm, can you tell me the rest of the rules now, please?”

“‘course.”

He takes his time explaining as he guides you through your new home; the importance of setting the perimeter alarm while he’s away, the necessity of privatizing your social media accounts, a solid boundary of not having guests in the house without him vetting them first. You listen raptly, doll eyes staring up at him. Whether they’re full of engrossment or dread, he isn’t quite sure, but he enjoys your attention all the same.

You don’t ask many questions. Through the hallways, you generally acquiesce to his requests without resistance and ignore the closed doors. But one door seems to grab your attention at the end of the corridor, and when you ask about it, he knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

Simon pays attention, you see. Your socials gave away far too many of your interests and hobbies (don’t read into that - he only spent days digging back nearly a decade). He spent nearly a month cautiously cultivating the contents beyond the multitudes that were already in his possession, and he knows that room will be your favorite.

“That’s the library,” he comments casually, feigning no knowledge of the depth of your enthusiasm. Your face lights up, though you try to bury the delight behind your collected façade.

“Am I allowed in there?”

“Of course.”

You pause a moment before asking, “Are there any rooms I’m not allowed in?”

He shakes his head. There’s no need to disclose the armory to you, really; you’ll never need to use it. His gallery of weaponry and wares hides behind a covert veneer, a door that doesn’t appear as a door, something you’d never think twice of in cursory glances. And that door is behind a door that remains locked at all times inside Simon’s office. The thought does occur that it may behoove him to teach you how to defend yourself, but what are the odds anyone would ever get close enough? Near zero.

“Only thing I ask is that you knock ‘fore you come in the study. Prefer to keep my work separate from my personal life. Rest of the house is fair game; it’s yours now, too.”

Like a broken record, he keeps slipping that in wherever possible. Repetition breeds remembrance, and he’d hate for you to forget that you’re a Riley now…

♡

The staff gathers in the foyer shortly before breakfast.

Simon regards them all fondly. Each is a well-oiled cog in a seamless machine; some pieces newer than others, but all perfectly functional. He hates to reduce them from sum to parts, but they’re all instrumental in his operations. He couldn’t do what he does without them, especially not now that he’s married. You’ll learn their functions, fragments, and faces. You’ll come to love and trust them as deeply as he does.

Your soft footfalls pad down the stairs right on time. The hitch in your breathing indicates a yawn, and he can hear a nearly imperceptible swish of fabric as you cover your mouth to hide it. Step-by-step, he tracks your progress until you reach what should be the last stair. You stop. He glances over his shoulder and offers a muted smile, taking in the only mildly disheveled sight of you first thing in the morning - wet hair, sweatpants, and a faded t-shirt. You’re stunning… and a bit surprised by the number of people in your house.

“C’mere,” he says softly. It’s as much a command as a suggestion, but you’re likely to be a bit more receptive if he isn’t too pushy, right? See, he’s learning, bit-by-bit, how to communicate with you to his advantage. Manipulation tactics aren’t ideal, but if it gets you on his side sooner, so be it.

Finicky thing, aren’t you? Emotional. Reactive. You respond to him like a feral creature backed into a corner, all claws and quarrel. Lashing out, he understands. He’s seen that deer-in-the-headlights look a million times over - though usually, it’s right before he unloads a clip in some sleazy nobody’s head or right after he makes a near impossible shot on a corrupt high-powered target. It’s something entirely different to see that look on his wife. Something that sets his teeth on edge.

So, he’ll adapt. Even if that means one-sided psychological warfare until you’re willing to meet him in the middle.

“Good morning,” you greet, enthusiasm absent but polite nonetheless, as you approach his side. To the dismay of the gnawing ache in his bones to pull you close, you stay just out of arm's reach, folding yours across your chest.

His host of guests responds in kind, scattered smatterings of verbal responses and mere nods mixed together.

“Our staff,” Simon announces. “I’m sure you recognize them from the wedding, but that’s Johnny and Kyle.”

He points to each in kind, Johnny giving you a charming grin and Kyle tipping the brim of his ballcap.

“My babysitters, right?” you ask blankly with an edge of snark. Johnny snickers, but tries to mask his amusement as soon as Simon hits him with a sharp, warning glare.

He ignores your comment, though.

“Farah and Alex are in charge of housekeeping; they bring in a team twice weekly for thorough cleans. If you’d like them to not touch your room, please let them know. They’re good about that.” What he doesn’t say is that Farah is also his head of private security, ensuring all safety protocols are in place, and Alex is in charge of the armory. He keeps an accurate inventory of what comes in and out, makes sure everything is organized and in working order, spends the bulk of his time methodically cleaning the instruments Simon takes on each assignment until no trace is left.

“Roach runs the kitchen - ” Double duty - chef and personal trainer. Sanderson oversees Johnny and Kyle’s nutrition, workout regimen, and training drills to keep them in peak shape to keep up with their boss.

“- Nikolai is my driver - “ Primarily a pilot, really, but he’s a man of many talents. He’s saved Simon’s hide more than once in a pinch, trained as a medic with the Russian Army, and is, by all accounts, an absolute fucking Savant when it comes to mechanics. He’s a force to be reckoned, akin to a hurricane when prompted. 

“- Yuri handles landscaping - ” And assists Farah with external security. He does routine perimeter checks and looks for flaws in the system. When he’s not lurking about outside, he’s assisting Nikolai with transportation repairs or in the armory with Alex. Jack of all trades, in a sense; always willing to lend a hand. He’s even volunteered to act as your personal chauffeur when Nikolai is away. How chivalrous.

“- and I’ve picked you up a new mobile for emergencies.” He holds out a new phone for you, knowing the old one was conveniently left inside his jet and was subsequently smashed beyond recognition. This one is identical in model to your previous in all ways but one - an invisible tracking app pre-installed by Kyle. You’ll find absolutely no indication of tampering, and he’ll be able to keep tabs on you from a distance.

You’re hesitant, but take it from his grasp.

“We’re still looking for your old one. Finish setting it up after brekkie, yeah?”

He’s met with silence and a wary glance. It’s almost like you know he’s lying - which he is, but only mostly. They’re still sweeping the floors for fragments of your screen.

“Right, off you fuck, the lot of ya,” Simon announces with a lopsided grin. “Breakfast is on the table - thanks, Roach - and we’ll join you in a sec.”

“Not sure how I feel about a guy called ‘Roach’ being in charge of the kitchen,” you reply automatically, clapping a horrified hand over your mouth as soon as you realize what you’ve said. Roach laughs, full and hearty, at that. You can only offer a bashful smile and an apologetic shrug, the embarrassment evident on your face.

“Nothing to worry about, ma’am. I wash my hands, promise.” You giggle at that. “And, if it helps, you can just call me Gary instead.”

You agree, testing the taste of his name with gratitude. Simon would love to hear you say his name with something other than contempt right now. He understands how complex this all is, but he’s your husband, for fuck’s sake. Doesn’t that buy him any wiggle room?

No. No, it doesn’t.

He has to remind himself that while he knows everything about you (that he could find online, that is), you don’t really know him. You don’t know the lengths to which he’d go for you, that he now lives for the happiness of the pretty little specter that haunts his dreams. Don’t worry, he’ll fix that soon.

♡

Blood drips into the water, cardinal beads leaching color as they slip into hazy translucency. Simon watches the streaks circle the drain as the faucet runs on low.

It was a local job, quick and dirty. Solicitor with a nasty penchant for underage girls and enough money to weasel his way out of the legal ramifications. Surveillance indicated his wife was out of town, but Simon didn’t bank on the other woman. The one that stabbed him.

She snuck up on him, striking right after he pulled the trigger. The tip of her blade sliced a neat strip across the side of his neck. Not deep enough to need stitches, but deep enough to piss him off. Her gray matter is splattered all over a nice painting in the solicitor’s flat.

However, a faint sense of guilt gnaws at his nerves. There are no qualms about his actions, no concerns about the successes of his work, but in doing so, he’s lied to you once more. The excuse of a late night meeting shaded the edges just enough to discolor the true intent. That’s what places the unscratchable itch in the back of his mind. 

Coming home, freckled in red, river of rivulets pooling in the curve of his clavicle and dripping down his chest, he doesn’t want you to see that. All the care and caution that has gone into shielding you this one bitter truth would be all for naught if you caught him. Hell, Johnny had to find a way to sneak him back into the house just for Simon to clean up.

It’s late, though; you’re probably already asleep anyway, right?

He turns the faucet off, shaking the loose droplets from his hands before snatching the pair of butterfly bandages from the counter. Each layer peeled away feels like another stripped from Simon himself. Symbolic, almost, the way it mimics your being burrowing deeper into him. Beneath the skin, the fat, the fascia, the muscle; weaving through the fibrous tissue and veins until you’re settled in the deepest part of him. He closes the superficial wound with unflinching hands, but you… It’s far too late to keep you from getting inside.

Tossing his blood and sweat-laden clothing aside, he’s halfway into pulling on a fresh pair of sweats when he hears a tentative knock at his bedroom door. He grumbles something bordering on foul, an unheard warning that there better be a damn good reason for Johnny bugging him right now, but he’s colored a lively shade of surprised when he finds his wife awaiting instead.

“What are you doing up, lovie?” he asks softly, trying to decipher the timid look on your face. You look tired, but there’s a wild awareness in your eyes. They dart across his form, lingering briefly on the bandages before combing the bare planes of his broad chest. He swears he can feel the heat coming off your pretty face when you realize you’ve been caught staring, but no mind is paid as he awaits an answer.

After a beat, you speak - low and soft, hesitant, like you’re trying to tiptoe out loud.

“Can we talk?”

Simon nods, stepping back from the door frame to gesture you inside. The steps you take are calculated; you’re mindful of each separate footfall on the carpet. Trepidatious like a rabbit, ready to bolt at the first sign of a threat, but you won’t find one here. Not with him.

His focus narrows in on you, following so succinctly behind that he can feel the shift of your hips in his palms. A phantom of your perfume trails at your back, beckoning him along. Silly, but he swears he can feel the threads of your sweatshirt between his fingers. He blinks, attention shifting to the tear in the collar and the stain on the sleeve. He actually does know that material well; it used to be his, after all.

“S’that my shirt?”

The stretched sleeve cuffs are long enough to hide your hands, the hands that are wringing together.

“It was in my laundry,” you murmur. “I’m sorry, I can wash it again and - “

“No. It looks good on you, dove. Keep it.” 

He makes a mental note to slip Alex a little extra for taking the initiative. Seeing you in something of his does something to him. Something vulgar and very ungentlemanly, something that tests his restraint, something not at all appropriate for this conversation. He’s subtle in the way he palms then adjusts himself.

Respect, Simon. Show her respect.

“What’s on your mind?”

You sigh, fingers fidgeting.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize. Again. I haven’t really been fair to you. This last month or so has been a lot to cope with, and I’ve just… God, Simon, I’ve been so angry. I don’t know how to deal with it, and it keeps boiling over. It’s never been my intention to take it out on you, and I feel awful that you’re really taking the brunt of it. You don’t deserve that. You’re just as much a victim in this as I am, and - “

“You don’t get it, do you?” His interruption is a bit harsh, he knows, but how many times does he have to say it? “I’m not a victim, love. I chose this. I chose you.”

He doesn’t want to lie to you anymore - can’t, won’t continue to hide things from you. You’ll never be able to truly want him the way he wants you if you don’t wholly know him. This way, you’ll have time to process. You’ll have all the time you need to come to terms with whatever you need to make peace with. It’s better this way, easier. You’d have found out eventually, right?

So, laying his cards on the table, he tells you everything. No stone left unturned, no facet unfaced. He watches your pretty face pale and twist in abject horror as he publishes each element in a bold font. By the time he’s done, no secrets remain. 

Tears run down your cheeks as you try to catch your breath. The second he reaches out to comfort you, you’re gone.

part v - coming soon!

[starboybutler]

don't count on it

summary: buck can't sleep. bucky helps him out.

word count: 2675

warnings: period typical homophobia and homophobic attitudes, handjobs, brief objectification of women, brief talks of war, guys being dudes

notes: i began writing this before i watched mota yesterday so forgive me if anything seems out of character. this came to me in a dream at three am and i've been thinking about it since. this is also inspired by @precious-little-scoundrel so thank you for your lovely blog marina. i hope everyone enjoys!

his entire body radiated with a dull ache deep in his joints. as soon as his back hit the bed, his eyes drooped as if he’d fall asleep right then and there. and yet, he laid there, staring at the dull gray ceiling.

he always did this. he yearned to sleep, but as soon as the time to lay down came, he couldn't fall into a sound slumber. too many thoughts racing in his head, too much aching in his body– too much noise all around him. the hum of the rickety air conditioning, the faint mutters and laughs of his bunkmates as they brushed their teeth and got dressed for bed, his own breathing reverberating in his ears. it all was so mundane, but too overwhelming.

he shut his eyes, hoping sleep would just come to him. he tried to ignore it all– the sounds, the thoughts…but nothing. he was still awake.

the bed dipped next to him, and he didn’t even have to open his eyes to see who it was.

“finally outta the shower?” buck asked, hands tucked behind his head as he waited for a response. “you take forever in there. you're like a woman.”

“yeah yeah,” bucky dismissed, shoving buck playfully as he set his belongings down. “and you didn’t shower long at all. dunno how ya got anything clean in that time.”

“i’m very clean.” gale huffed, cracking one eye open. “i just don’t like showering with other people. i like my alone time.”

“uh huh. you just wanna be able to rub one out in there.”

gale sat up and shoved him, laughing in surprise at his friend's brazen words. it was always like this. bucky, being brazen and outgoing, all while buck watched from the sidelines. he liked it that way. he always felt a weird joy when bucky would tell random stories of reckless things he did in the past, or when he insisted on singing after a few drinks at the bar. he’d always say that he was a prude when he resisted his drunken tugging of his arm, trying to urge him on stage with him. buck never took it personally though– mainly because bucky was right. compared to most of the men he’d been around he was prude. he didn’t gamble, drink– hell, he didn't even have one night stands. many of the guys got drunk and went home with the first broad they saw, but buck didn’t feel anything towards the women who would brazenly grip at his arms and called him a stud. sure, he’s made out with a few of them– and almost made a mess of his uniform– but he never took them back to base. he didn't want to lose his purity like that. sure, he’d done plenty of heavy petting and dry humping, but he’s never went all the way with a girl before. it just didn't happen.

he got teased about it, sure, but he stuck by his guns. he didn't see the big deal in rushing to stick your cock into some random woman and then brag about it the next day. it all seemed very shallow to him. he was always told that sex is special– between two people with a strong, loving bond. and he held that close to his heart. he actually was planning to save himself for marriage– but when you're a hormonal teen…its a little hard to fight those primal feelings.

“oh please, i haven't done that since i got here.” buck said earnestly, laying back down and stretching out. “honestly, i haven't done that in almost a year.”

bucky laughed. “no way. i always joked about you bein’ a prude, y’know, but this is a little far.” he cracked. “where ya too busy? or are you actually that green?”

“i’m not green,” buck grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “i jus’-- goddamn, i dunno. i wanna save myself, y’know. i try not to do it too often.”

“good god man, you didn't even go for it before you were here? you’re crazy.” egan snorted. “now you’re stuck ‘round all these guys.”

buck just shrugged, laying back down and sighing heavily. “oh well. what can ya do?”

it was quiet, for a moment. buck could feel that bucky was was there, but he was silent– like he was contemplating. buck opened one eye and gazed at him, confused at the way his lips were twitching.

“you…you really aren’t gonna…indulge in any ladies out here?” bucky said, softly, like he was ashamed of asking. “you’re gonna lose it, man. it’s only been a week and i already feel all pent up.”

buck felt his face heat up slightly at the implication that his friend was horny. he bit his lip, dragging his eyes away from his black-haired friend as he let those words soak in. “really?”

“yeah. i– it’s been a while for me too, actually. i didn't really think about how it’d only be us guys out here. shoulda got something before i came out here.”

despite buck’s stance on remaining celibate until his marriage, he strangely understood the other man. even though he hardly engaged in such things, he felt the tension in every room he walked in. everyone seemed taut, like a bowstring– waiting to snap. whenever they’d spar, workout, or shower, the air would be thick enough to cut with a knife. it was an unspoken thing– but everyone felt it. no one wanted to talk about it, because…well, what would that make them? they don't allow fairies in the force, that’s for sure. something so scandalous couldn't even be thought about, unless you wanted a good beat down by every other troop in sight.

“i dunno. i think the last time i did it left me satisfied for a while,” he lied, not wanting to admit that he had the same fire simmering, albeit dimly, in his belly. he never felt like this, so what the hell was his deal?

“bullshit,” bucky swore. “no way your fist leaves you satisfied for years to come. you need a woman, buck. one that’ll rock your world.”

“you know i’m savin’ myself.” buck hummed. “besides, hookin’ up with some random woman doesn't sound appealing.”

“you’re wrong, man.” bucky sighed, laying down next to buck and resting his head on his hands. “it’s magical. raw. primal. makes you feel like a real man.” he grunted, inhaling deeply. “hooked up with this one chick– god, she was gorgeous. eager to go down on me– and she gripped ‘round me so damn tight i thought she cut off my circulation. kept bouncin’ on me and talking about how big i was. goddamn.”

buck’s cheeks flushed at the words leaving his friends mouth. the way he spoke about the woman like she was a pastime or a hobby and not a person was surprising. he could see it, though, clear in his minds eye– a young lady, moaning and panting, bouncing eagerly on bucky’s thick cock, bucky panting and calling her a good girl–

he paused. why was he thinking about bucky so much? and why did it make his face flush even more?

“issat right,” buck mumbled, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach from his lewd imagination.

“uh huh. god– i dream about her all the damn time. what i’d give to be buried in her now.”

silence again. only this time, it felt more tense than the last. the vision that buck had– bucky’s cock, his breathless voice, his flushed face. it made him all hot, like no other girl had before. it scared him.

“you ever been with a girl? obviously not all the way– but at all?”

“of course i have.” buck said defensively. “i– i just…it was high school, maybe. real nice girl, real pretty. she came over to study, and we ended up making out. i was still kinda new to the whole….sex thing, so i told her no when she tried to go all the way. we did end up uh…. rubbin’ on each other though. felt nice.”

“and this was high school?” bucky asked. “and you haven’t been with a girl since?”

buck shook his head. bucky stared at him for a moment, something unreadable flashing in his eyes as he gazed at the blonde. “damn. no wonder you're so damn tense all the time.”

“i’m not tense.”

“you are. you’re always quiet– thinkin’. you never let loose. i bet if you got a handy you’d be as rowdy as the rest of us.”

“quit bein’ dirty.” buck tsked, smacking bucky’s chest lightly. “i don’t need a handy. i need some goddamn sleep.”

“i’m tellin’ ya man. you need to get laid.”

“i’ll smack ya if you say somethin’ pervy again.” buck promised, making bucky snicker softly.

it was quiet again. buck closed his eyes, but he felt as restless as earlier. moreso, even. he kept thinking about bucky’s last hookup, the way he described her, how tight she was. was she really tight? or was bucky just that big, like the girl said?

and there his mind went again. thinking about bucky. that wasn't normal. he needed to stop thinking about bucky and think about girls. like the girl he frotted with in his childhood bed- whatever her name was. the way she grabbed onto him, panted into his neck, shivering and shaking something awful as she came undone all over his slacks. he remembered being shocked at the gush, his cock still unbelievably hard down his thigh after two orgasms. he remembered how bad it hurt, being hard for so long. he wondered if being in a girl was better. he wondered if bucky’s cock stayed hard after he came inside that girl. no– stop. don’t think about the man right next to you. why did he keep–

“you’re breathin’ funny.” bucky observed.

“no i’m not.” buck argued, flustered at how his friend picked up on his heavier breathing. he prayed that he didn't look down and see his dick tenting in his sweats.

he must've. no. he did. his eyes trailed down the lean length of buck’s torso, landing on the large bulge under the fabric of his sweats.

“see what i mean?” bucky breathed, his voice lower in tone than normal. “you're so tense, buck,” he muttered, his hand moving from behind his head. “always so damn tense.”

buck swallowed hard as he felt bucky’s hand rest on his thigh, slowly inching upwards towards his aching cock. his breath stuttered, his face red-hot– but he didn't make a move to stop him. not at all.

bucky’s hand slid into his loose sweats, past the blonde curls, and gently grasped at his cock. buck inhaled sharply, his hand moving to grab bucky’s wrist in a moment of panic. bucky halted, looking up at buck tentatively.

oh, god.

“don't think,” bucky muttered, giving buck a soft squeeze. “jus’ lemme help, yeah? lemme get rid of that tension.”

buck let go slowly, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. bucky’s hand gave him a curious squeeze, making buck grunt and rock his hips up into his grasp. slowly, hesitantly, bucky started to move his hand up and down his throbbing shaft.

“oh, god,” buck swore, his face flushed dark red as he felt his stomach clenching with each milking tug of bucky’s hand. he felt himself, dripping with precum all over his friends hand like a girl. he hardly began touching him, and he was already….

“close,” buck warned, his voice breathy and embarrassed as he started to pant softly. “oh, jesus–”

“no,” bucky grunted, pulling his hand away abruptly, much to buck’s dismay. before the blonde could even complain, bucky was straddling him and staring holes into his pretty blue eyes. “wanna see you.”

buck swore his face was radiating light at this point, and bucky’s gaze wasn't helping one bit. it was so hot and intensely desirous that buck thought he was going to get eaten alive.

bucky grasped the blonde’s cock again, giving it small, rhythmic squeezes as he stared into buck’s eyes, taking in how they were welling up with tears– and how his flushed face was beading with sweat. it was so different, so absolutely wildy hot that buck, ever stoic, was falling apart below him.

buck had never had someone look at him so hotly before– not even that girl back then. it was making him nervous, but also hot and needy. the thought that his friend wanted him carnally set a fire in his stomach and his heart.

he began pumping him slowly, twisting his wrist and squeezing, all with an expertise that shocked him a little. he could still hear the buzzing of the ac and the quiet conversations of the other troops as his mouth fell open, head falling into the plush pillows behind him.

bucky’s breathing was growing heavier. he could feel the other man’s heat as he used his thumb to swipe at his leaking slit, his breath catching as buck gasped beneath him. the blonde swore he felt a certain hardness poking at his thigh, but he didn't care at all right now. he needed to cum. he needed bucky to make him cum.

“say my name.” bucky demanded, his face flushed as he began jerking buck’s cock faster. “need to hear ya say my name when you cum.”

“bucky–”

“nah. louder.” he demanded, his own breath speeding up and becoming ragged as he stroked buck faster. “scream it. yell it. make sure all our boys know.”

“fuck–” buck whimpered, his cool, stoic demeanor completely gone as he bucked his hips up into his friends fist, moaning like a cheap whore. “b-bucky!”

“that’s it. fuck– no one can make you feel like this–” he panted, speeding up his ministrations. “can they, buck? i’m the only one. don’t– ngh- ever let me catch ya with anyone else. i’ll kill ‘em.”

“bucky,” buck whimpered, his stomach clenching one final time as his orgasm washed over him, a fire like he hadn't experienced in forever. his cock shot thickly over the front of bucky’s shirt, making the other man groan and bite his lip as his friend came apart. the way bucky was straddling him, stroking him through his orgasm, the faint sounds of his friends voices through the thin wall– oh, fuck.

he dissolved into pathetic little tremors and whines as he came down, his cock bubbling weakly at the tip. bucky was panting hard, his face red and eyes hungry as he gazed at the blonde. suddenly, buck was sure that there was a hardness prodding at him.

silence.

“you–” buck panted, reaching out to grasp bucky’s erection, only to be stopped. “wha–”

“don’t worry about me.” he mumbled. “fuck, everyone’s gonna be here soon. jus’--” he stuttered, clambering off of buck awkwardly, tucking him back into his sweats. “get some sleep, buck.”

buck was too tired to try and chase after him as he scrambled away. his body felt heavy as he closed his eyes, finally succumbing to sleep.

when he awoke, he went straight to the breakfast hall. he felt like last night was some fever dream he had cooked up in his fucked up mind.

he sat at a table near the window, graciously taking the coffee he was given. only a few minutes later, the chair in front of him had been filled by his friend.

it was dead silent. then, bucky finally spoke, his voice calm and steadier than buck expected.

“sleep good last night?”

buck’s face flushed slightly, but he nodded, his eyes not leaving his plate.

“good.” bucky hummed, leaning back in his chair. “got a mission. you right and ready to fly?”

“you know it.”

“that’s my boy.” bucky smiled, and buck hated that he got butterflies in his stomach from it. “i’ll see ya in the air. don’t fall asleep in the seat, y’hear me?”

buck smiled, taking a sip from his bittersweet coffee. “don’t count on it.”

taglist: @mooodyblue @lauvmyself @kaiistheguy @slowsweetlove @lillypink

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Aug 11th

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1. Hi guys! This will probably I think goes in the fic finder.

So all I remember is wangxian had gotten together, it was post cannon I think? And they go on a hunt together along with Jiang Cheng or maybe they meet Jiang cheng on the way but either ways, things go wrong and the demon slashes wwx's neck and somehow they all fall down a cliff where lwj and jc try to keep wwx alive.

Thank you!

FOUND? The Warmest Hands by AvoOwO (M, 46k, wangxian, JC & WWX, WWX & LSZ & LWJ, major character injury, hurt WWX, blood & gore, heavy angst w/ happy ending, blindness, PTSD, alcoholism, fights, JC & WWX reconciliation, non-sexual intimacy, tenderness, WIP)

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2. Hi! I hope you are doing well. Please help me find this fic. Wwx erased himself and travel back in time. Wwx saw his parent and they have a little bit conversation, such why the couple never had a child or something. I remember there is a scene where wwx ask ‘how do you know I’m your son?’ then I think csr said ‘I always recognized my husband face everywhere’.

Please help me. Thank you!!!

FOUND? This unrolled threadfic by cerbykerby (WIP)

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3. For a fic finder:

It was during an AU version of the sunshot campaign where people thought that WWX and YLLZ were separate people and LWJ had fallen for both. LWJ decides to gently let down YLLZ but realizes that the two are the same person because he played/recognized wangxian. Thank you for all the help you provide

Number three on the current finder “The Scarlet Lotus” is wrong, the fic im looking for was a one shot. Thank you for the suggestion, may read the suggested fic later to try it out

NOT FOUND The Scarlet Lotus by rainbowninja167 (M, 137k, WangXian, Marriage of Convenience, Secret Identity, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical war crimes, Yunmeng Bros, the mortifying ordeal of getting seduced by your own husband, nonlinear chronology we die like cql, just kidding nobody dies in this fic, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication)

FOUND! Found the fic, it’s Lan Wangji and the Love(s) of his Life by baobeibaobae (T, 4k, WangXian, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Kissing, First Kiss, Marriage Proposal, Love Confessions, Happy Ending, Oblivious WWX, Flirty WWX, Jealous LWJ, Courting Rituals, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, JC is a Good Bro). Thank you anyway and have a nice day

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4. Hello! I'm trying to find this fic where WWX was transported into the body of a female Mo Xuanyu and promptly feels dysphoric about it. When LWJ finds him and takes him back to the Cloud Recesses, he helps WWX feel more comfortable and even allows him to change Mo Xuanyu's name into something else. Somewhere by the end of the fic, it's revealed that the reason why LWJ knows so much about "gender cultivation" is because he himself is trans and found ways to help himself transition.

I can't find it anywhere and I don't wanna lose hope in case it's deleted. Thank you for your help!

FOUND! In Reflection, Truth by Shadaras (T, 55k, WangXian, WWX is summoned into a woman's body, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Gore, this is a story about being transgender, Dysphoria, Misogynistic Slurs, Ableist Language, it's not slow burn if it's going to be faster than canon, Trans Male Character, Trans wish fulfillment, Canon Divergence - Yunmeng Brothers Have A Real Conversation)

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5. Hii hope you're having a good day!! I was wondering if you could find a fic where wei ying gets his original body back, completely unrecognisable, and decides to stroll around gusu in lan zhans clothing. People see lan zhan and wei ying together and assume that wei ying is a new consort. They later go together to a conference meeting where everyone gets mad because they think lan zhan is cheating

FOUND? Is Your Old Body Considered a Halloween Costume? by The_peregrine_falcon (G, 3k, WangXian, WWX's original body, Junior quartet makes an appearance, LQR's blood pressure is going up, LWJ is chief cultivator, Fluff, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon)

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6. Hello! I sent in this ff a couple months ago with no luck. Hoping to try again to find it! The fic was set during the Cloud Recesses Lectures era and WWX was cursed to lie. Everyone else mistakenly thought he was cursed to only tell the truth, so when he says things like “I hate you” they believe it. WWX gets really depressed that everyone believes that he doesn’t care about them. The curse is eventually broken when LWJ realizes it is a lie curse not a truth curse. If this sounds familiar at all please let me know!

FOUND! A Kiss of True Love to break a Curse by Wangxian101 (T, 5k, WangXian, Teenage Wangxian, Not Canon Compliant, kiss of true love, curse of lies, truth curse, Angst, Fluff, When the only way to break the curse is to kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Teen Angst, They are in love your honour, Oblivious WWX, Oblivious LWJ, there is only one brain cell in this group and it belongs to JC, LXC is the biggest wangxian shipper, jc is a good bro, Love Confessions, Getting Together, Gremlin WWX, Happily Every After, LXC will gut anyone who hurts his precious little brother, True Love’s Kiss, JC is an awkward bean, LWJ POV, WWX POV, WWX is a closet romantic, WWX loves his romance novels, Protective JC, JC loves his gremlin brother, Unrequited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, it all works out in the end)

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7. About 4-5 years ago I read a fic where WW awoke as a god of luck/fortune/fate after the siege. He ends up saving a-qing and she ends up following him after "fixing" XXC's soul, as well as XY's soul being stuck in a sword. God!WWX also ended up saving MXY too. The fic is also very long. the first couple of chapters are average length, but the last few are between 30-70k each. @annacakes2

FOUND? despite it all by novalotypo (T, 292k, wangxian, canon divergence, god of luck WWX, memory loss, non-linear narrative, WIP)

FOUND? Wuqian, the Local God of Yiling by Grace_ShadowWolf (TaubeLePigeon) (M, 80k, wangxian, WWX & LSZ & LWJ, major character death, canon divergence, angst w/ happy ending, god WWX, Chinese mythology & folklore, pining, temporary character death, WIP)

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8. looking for a fic where jin zixuan is a demonic cultivator? it's an au or canon divergence fic where it was him who got the sword in xuanwu. appreciate all the help you give us <3

FOUND! no step had trodden black by Stratisphyre (T, 32k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, JYL/JZX, canon divergence, madam lan lives, past rape, golden core reveal, hurt/Comfort, referenced to attempted suicide & suicidal thoughts, canon-typical violence) most likely not this one, as JZX doesn't go full modao (or even guidao) in it, but he does certainly pick up the sword and is influenced by it; just in case this IS the right one, tho, JZX's bit comes up in chapter 3

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9. Hi! This is for fic finder. I dont remember much because i read that around 3 years ago. I hope this is not a mix between wo fic. I think its an arranged marriage story between Wangxian. Every month WWX leaves CRRS to visit the wen without anyone knowing but LWJ (i think he noticed) because LWJ make some arrangement that allows WWX leaves anytime he likes. 1 month and WWX still come back. Just like the following months until LWJ noticed WWX is not coming back. I think before that the two of them has a fight (? Not sure about this). LWJ search for WWX and found him. Instead of make his presence known, LWJ follows WWX in secret. WWX noticed of course and ignore LWJ. A few days like that and WWX relenta and calls LWJ to follow him without hiding. Thats all i can remember. I dont know if its an ao3 fic or thread fic. Thank you @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

9 is right. For the first half is right (wwx leave every few months) but not the second half (LWJ followed wwx while hiding). I think i mixed two different fic. But the "Light of Stars (and the Destroyer)" Is the one i meant. Thanks

FOUND! 🔒 Light of Stars (and the Destroyer) by Sanguis (T, 22k, WangXian, Legends, Arranged Marriage, Pining, Pining for your spouse, Adoption, Canon Divergence, Married Couple)

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10. hello! i was hoping you can help me find this fic where jiang cheng finds wwx’s journal in the burial mounds and he ends up experiencing(?) the events there. i read it ages ago and can’t find it. thank you!

FOUND? Waiting On You by SmellsLikeDeanSpirit (M, 26k, JC & WWX, WangXian, WIP, Graphic Depicitions of Violence, Major Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Memories, Time Travel, Sort Of, the characters watching the show trope but different, WWX has magical diaries that force the reader to experience his memories, JC finds them and reads them, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Bashing, Bad Parent YZY, YZY Bashing, Canonical Character Death, he comes back tho, JC regrets, JC Needs a Hug, WWX Needs a Hug)

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11. Thank you for all the work you do!! I've been driving myself crazy trying to find this fic. All I remember is one scene. At the Jin banquet, Jiang Cheng allows (sends?) WWX to dual Jin What's His Face. WWX obviously trounces him, but nearly has a flashback, prompting JC to pull him back when he realizes that maybe sending his traumatized brother into that situation wasn't the best plan.

It was either a canon diversion or a JC goes back in time fic, but I can't remember which. It was relatively long and it isn't recent.

Ring any bells for anyone? Thanks!! @kirk-spock-in-the-impala

FOUND? Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It) JC went back in time and he realized his mistake about the skirmish like right after it happened. The part that they are looking for is in chapter 2.

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12. Hiii thank you so much for the hardwork you do and I enjoy the fics here. I haven't seen this in fic finder yet. I remember lwj leaving gusu for yiling he brought his own money and it was used to buy food and stuff I think. By the end they sell at the market with kids styling lwj hair and gusu saw this the elders was mad mad with the vanity. Lxc asked for bunnies cause the ones in gusu dissapeared(. Thank so much be well.I wrote this today and there was error if there is two pls ignore 🙏) @ladyxyraine

FOUND? 🔒 Share Your Silence series by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (E, 138k, WangXian, Romance, Everybody Lives, Canon Divergence, LWJ Has Feelings, Protective LWJ, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, WangXian in Love, YLLZ WWX, Lan Clan Elders are Assholes, Minor Transgender Character, Qiongqi Path Divergence, LWJ loves his bunnies, Explicit Sexual Content, Burial Mounds, OCs, Drama, NMJ Qi Deviation, Awesome WQ, The Wen Twins, Wen JunZhu | MinYue (OMC), Wen YanJeng | MinYi (OMC), Fluff and Humor, WWX Has Feelings, Lotus Pier, mention of non-con roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, NMJ Needs a Hug, Nie clan sabers, baxia, Unclean Realm, Protective NHS)

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13. Hi im looking for a specific fic. The fic was on ao3 and was a modern au where Wei Ying realizes he might be a bit gay and kisses lan zhan but then freaks out, and they get a bit awkward. He then goes on to forums to see what others might think of his situation, he tries watching gay porn etc. and finds that he's dreaming of lan zhan. He ends up being jumped by homophobes goes on a drinking binge for the next few days as a result and hears that lan zhan has been staying in his room and hasn't been doing well, wei ying thinks it's because he kissed him but later finds out he sent lan zhan a homophobic message when drunk. Any help would be appreciated!!! @livesformitski

FOUND? it's always open by ScarlettStorm (E, 60k, WangXian, Modern, vague north american setting, First Time, Getting Together, Pining while fucking, Some angst, Happy Ending, not straight boy WWX but not NOT straight boy WWX, not practice kissing but not NOT practice kissing, that feeling when you know you're making bad decisions but keep making them anyway, LWJ FUCKS, Sexual exploration, demi WWX, not that he knows that yet, Kissing, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, confused but enthusiastic consent, WWX's not sure about all his options but he's got the spirit, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, truly absurd amounts of naked pillow talk, switch rights)

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14. Hi!! Thank you for all you do 🫶

I’m looking for a fic that was on ao3. It was one where I think WWX was brothers with Hua Cheng and Luo Binghe and I believe he was a god or something of higher power and as a trial he was born as the WWX we knew and he went through everything he did in canon. When he died he ended up back with Hua Cheng and Luo Binghe but LWJ couldn’t move on and he tried to find him there?

Thank you for your help!! @bigmeatycl0ws

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15. Hi! Kindly help me finding this fic. Wwx teaches the lan juniors to solve arrays. He makes it diffucult to solve so that he can have time with his husband. I think I remember they was a scene where JL ask the Lans how they can easily solves the arrays and then got jealous when he learn it was wwx who taught them.

FOUND? 🔒 A More Practical Approach by Elhana (T, 9k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, Teacher WWX, Humour, POV Multiple, Implied Sexual Content, when you just want to get frisky with your hot husband but your in-laws crave their peace and quiet, huge conflict of interest right there, WWX is resourceful, wuxia magic shenanigans, Post-Canon)

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16. Hey, this is for the fic finder!

I'm trying to look for this specific Lan Xichen/Nie Mingjue fic where NMJ gets reincarnated as NHS' cousin's son and promptly falls in love with LXC all over again. I can't remember the title and I've been trying to look for it so I can reread it ;w; I think Age Difference was tagged and there's scenes where LXC tries to dissuade NMJ from getting together but in the end they get married and NMJ recovers his memories from his past life.

Thank you in advance ;w;

FOUND? Song of us by Ziane (E, 142k, LXC/NMJ, JC/NHS, Post-Canon Fix-It, Explicit Sexual Content, Reincarnation, Happy Ending, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Soulmates References, Pining, Canon-Typical Gore, Novel Spoilers, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Implied LSZ/LJY, Porn with Feelings)

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17. Hi!! I’m back with another request!

It was an ao3 fic where WWX had left the cultivation world behind because he/she (there was a male and female version I believe) was pregnant with A-Yuan and Jingyi and he/she wanted to give them a better life. LWJ does find them eventually (he’s the father) and he gets to meet the kids. They end up staying together and raising the kids there after LWJ fakes his death @bigmeatycl0ws

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18. Hi! I'm looking for a fic where LWJ and WWX have a sex and a love confession during the sunshot campaign. LWJ visits WWX during one night and asks to let him help WWX with his health after using demonic cultivation. WWX , in a fit of rage and a desperate act to drive away LWJ, behaves crudely and proposition him.... I think the name of the fic was "fool for you"? I'm not sure.

Thanks in advance! @grrumpywoof

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19. Hey! Thank you so much for your hardwork 😊😊

Im searching for a fanfic which is completed

Yu ziyuan is present in the sunshot campaign and wwx invents turtle shields. Yzy tries to show wwx as a traitor but fails.

Can you please help me in finding this fic?

FOUND? Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing)

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20. Hello! Could you help me find a fic where pre sunshot campaign ends up in a room to watch the future and 4 juniors from the future join them. The main pairings I remember are Wangxian where Sizhui is there biological child. XiCheng Jingyi is their biological child and of course XuanLi with Jin Ling. No one believes them until they pull their parents swords from their sheaths and explain because Wangxian and XiCheng have high cultivation Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng got pregnant. @megdbrew

~*~

[sitp-recs]

hi! how are you?

so I read a fic some time ago that destroyed me…… like literally. I enjoyed it but at the same time I didn’t. but now I can’t stop thinking about it bc everything on it was so revolting and fucked. how to make a fic get out of our system? is it possible 😅 not to be dramatic but this fic almost made me lose interest in the whole ship lmao I just wanted to read something I enjoy again, you know? and nothing hits :( and when it does I’m almost finishing the fic and something horrible happens (that wasn’t really tagged) and I endure it until the end 💀 anyway if you have any fic that you read recently that is very romantic and monogamous or even if they are exes but they don’t date anyone else because they just can’t move on, pls share with us!! and it doesn’t have to be drarry, it can be anything. Im going through your lists and whole blog tbh looking for something that will save me lmaoooo I’ve read almost everything that interests me and you recced. (btw your break up make up list is amazing!) still I think the spark left me 🫠 ugh sorry for yapping

I’m sorry to hear that, anon :,( I think we’ve all been there at some point, god knows how many times I felt blocked, uninspired or just unable to connect to any fic. Personally, I find it helpful to take short breaks from fandom and focus on other hobbies for a while. Those fics will always be there when and if you’re ready to return! Also, imho you shouldn’t have to “endure” any fics that you find upsetting. I don’t typically have any triggers but I certainly have tropes/topics that don’t interest me much (or at all), and I have no qualms abandoning a fic when they show up unannounced 🤣

Now, it’s a bit hard to rec something randomly without knowing more about your fic tastes, but since you’re interested in romantic/monogamous stories, I thought I’d share some recs along those lines. This is a personal selection that might not work for you, but if it does I’ll be pleased to know that you’ve found that spark again :) Take care xo

Short fic:

Take the Moon by tackytiger (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year…

Two Zinnias and the Scent of Lemon by @the-starryknight (M, 16k)

The Ministry didn’t turn bad overnight. Harry didn’t suddenly turn rogue either. Between covert Legilimency links and Polyjuice disguises and running and running and running, Draco has forgotten what it is like to have a safe harbor that isn’t a person. If there’s an art to fighting back, then they’ll find it hand in hand.

Us, in Lieu by Tepre (E, 29k)

Teddy needs help and Harry needs funding. Draco sits in the other room and plays the piano.

Long fic:

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them by nerakrose, dustmouth (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

Who we are in the shadows by Quicksilvermaid (E, 100k)

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

[heavyhitterheaux]

The Marriage Pact Part 1

To Have and to Hold

AN: I am so excited for this 😆

Synopsis: Jack brings up the marriage pact that the two of you made when you were seventeen on your 30th birthday

Pairing: Best Friend!Jack Harlow x Best Friend!Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You were attempting to drift off to sleep since you were exhausted from everything that took place during the day getting things together for Jack's tour when you heard Jack’s voice interrupting you. 

This typically happened more often than not seeing as he still suffered from nightmares and would often come into your room whenever you stayed at hotels and if you two were home, he would be calling you. 

"Stink! I know you’re not sleeping! Get your ass up!"

"Well I was trying to be before you so rudely interrupted me. I am running on fumes seeing as I had to make sure everyone’s shit was together before this tour started." You answered as Jack walked over to the bed and pulled the comforter off of you.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and just peered down at you while you casually raised your middle finger up in his direction and all he did was roll his eyes.

“You’re staring at me.Creep. You literally see me just about every day and know what I look like. You’ve known what I looked like since I was born basically.”

"Uhhh because there is literally two minutes until your birthday and I am always the one to tell you happy birthday first. That was the whole reason why I came in here in the first place."

"Jack, it's not my birthday. But I should be used to this by now, always busting in my room unannounced." You said while shaking your head as Jack came to sit next to you as you were still laying down and peeking out from under the comforter since you had thrown it back over yourself. .

All he did was stare at you for a few seconds before shaking his head.

"You work too hard and although I thank you for it, you need a break. I know being my manager isn’t easy and that I constantly give you headaches. But, It's about to be March 21st, sweetheart. I will never ever ever ever forget my favorite girl’s birthday no matter what I have going on around me."

"I…"

"Forgot your own birthday, but your best friend in the entire world is never going to forget it. You'll get the rest of your gifts later, but I have the cake, card, and one of them right now. So sit up so you can eat it. Oh, and happy birthday to my most favorite person in the world." Jack said while leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"Thank you, Jack Jack. It totally slipped my mind."

"I always got you, baby. You know that." Jack replied while pinching your cheek. 

"And I got you. Forever and ever." You answered before taking off the comforter and sitting up against the headboard as Jack made himself comfortable next to you while reaching over to the nightstand to grab the cake he got for you.

"I decided to switch it up this year since you've been having your obsession with strawberry flavored desserts so I got you strawberry cake with buttercream icing which I know is your favorite."

"Why are you so perfect?" You asked with your mouth watering at the sight as he handed it to you. 

"You're the perfect one and make me look good. Why do you think I wouldn’t take no for an answer when I told them that I wanted you to be my manager?" Jack answered as he set the cake in the middle of both of you.

“Because you would literally lose your head if it wasn’t for me. Been that way since we were little.”

“Hmm, you have a point.”

Jack did the honors of taking the first small piece from the cake slice first and holding the fork up to your mouth so you could taste it.

“Damn, I’m going to need a whole one now. Where did you get this from?” You asked as Jack got another fork for himself and began eating.

“Ms. Beverly. She made it without a second thought once I told her it was for you.”

“Aww, really?!” 

Ms. Beverly was your third grade teacher who had now since retired from teaching and runs an entire bakery in Louisville. The two of you kept in touch and she became one of your favorite teachers who had a lasting impact on you. You always knew that you could go to her when you needed to if you weren’t comfortable going to your parents.

 “Free of charge might I add, but I still left her a big tip. Probably bigger than what the cake originally cost.”

“Now, how in the world did you get in here?” You curiously asked seeing as the two of you were currently in L.A.

“Don’t worry about how I got it here. Just know that I did it because I know that this would make you happy. And you know how important your happiness is to me.”

“I literally hit the jackpot in the best friend department.” 

It was quiet for a few minutes as the two of you were still eating, when Jack suddenly broke the silence.

"Now you know what this means right?" Jack asked as you looked up at him from your birthday cake.

A tradition that had taken place with him buying you your own slice of cake or cupcake ever since you turned fourteen.

He would save up his allowance two months in advance just to be sure he had enough for when the time came to buy it.  

He was always the first one to tell you happy birthday ever since you could remember. It also helped that the two of you only lived a few houses down from one another. 

"What? That I'm having a cheat day and need to go to the gym an extra day this week?" You answered, but Jack shook his head no and had a somewhat serious look on his face.  

"No. We're both thirty." Jack quietly said and the both of you stared at each other for a few minutes before either of you said something.

"You… you actually remembered and you were serious?" You asked him as you put down your fork to give him your full attention.

"Of course I was serious. What better person is there to marry than my best friend who I know I can trust and won't let me down?"

When the two of you had turned seventeen, it was right after the worst break up that you could have ever imagined. 

Him cheating on you with someone that you were close to and you just knew the world was over.

It wasn't until you decided to go to a party and get drunk with Jack keeping a close eye on you that the conversation of a marriage pact was brought up the next morning when you had finally sobered up.

"If I were to propose to you right now, would you say yes?" Jack asked you as the two of you were laying on the floor in his bedroom staring up the ceiling. 

"Of course I would. You’re my best friend in the entire world and I know the last thing you would ever do is hurt me." 

"Then let's make a deal. If we're both single by the time we're thirty we'll get married."

You quickly agreed and simply thought to yourself that pact or no pact, you would marry your best friend in a heartbeat. 

You had reached the center of the cake when you noticed something hard that made a sound once your fork had hit it. 

All you did was look at Jack before moving the rest of the cake to the side and discovering a silver pear shaped engagement ring.

The ring that you told him that you had always wanted. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at it for a few seconds before finally turning to look at Jack. 

"Jackman Thomas…." You started to say, but nothing else came out seeing as your heart was now beating a thousand miles per hour and your breathing was beginning to be erratic. 

"You know how much you mean to me because I literally tell you every day and I cannot go one day without being around you. If I’m not around you, we’re on the phone talking to each other or even sometimes just doing our own thing. Plenty of times we’ve called each other and we won’t even speak, but we just know that the other person is always there.  You have been in my life since damn near birth and I don't see myself without you by my side for the rest of my life. I was dead serious when we made that pact at seventeen. I want you to be my wife because I know no one else will come close. You know me better than anyone and I can share things with you and not feel like you’re judging me for any of it. So, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and fulfilling our marriage pact?"

“This is one hell of a gift. How much was this?” You began to say and Jack just smiled at you since he knew every time you got an ounce of nervousness in you, you began to ramble.

“Since when does that matter, and when do I ever tell you how much something is that I bought for you?”

“It doesn’t, but as you can probably tell right now, my heart just fell out of my ass.”

Jack began laughing as you were still trying to come to terms with what he had just asked you.

“Baby girl, I need an answer.” He said as you were playing with the ring in your fingers.

“You really want me to be your wife?” You quietly asked and all Jack did was nod.

"Yes." 

“Till death do us part?”

“Yes.”

“Through sickness and in health?”

“Yes.”

“For richer or poorer?”

“Baby girl! At this rate, we should get married this very moment. You got me over here reciting vows and shit. And you know for a damn fact that I’ll always take care of you regardless.”

“Okay, okay, okay. I was just thinking out loud, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. This is a very important thing to think about but I will tell you that if you don’t want me to be your hus…”

You immediately cut him off.

“Do NOT finish that sentence because I do. And my answer is yes.”

“Wait, really?”

“Well, did you think that I was going to say no?”

“Okay, well I was only 65% sure that you would say yes and that’s more than 50, so I thought to myself the chances of you saying yes are greater and that I might as well try.” Jack quickly took the ring from you and slid it onto your finger as you sat there admiring it. 

“You remember what ring that I said I wanted. Wait, how did you even know my size?”

“Really? Your best friend of thirty years now and you’re asking me if I know your ring size?” All Jack did was look at you in disbelief.

“Okay, fair point.” You quickly picked up your cake and the two of you finished eating as so many thoughts were running through your head and Jack quickly noticed.

“What are you thinking?”

“Well for one, our mothers will be very happy about this.”

“True. I know that had a bet going even if neither of them want to admit it. They’ve probably been planning for this since we were born.”

Your mother along with Jack’s mother Maggie were best friends and got pregnant around the same time and agreed that your mom would name her first born while Maggie named you. Seeing as the two of you were eight days apart, once your mother finally brought you home and got settled, Maggie of course came over to check on her and it was good that they had support systems in place that would help them navigate being first time mothers while also supporting each other. Maggie had set Jack in the bassinet next to you and you immediately took to him. It was almost as if the two of you were hugging and now have been inseparable ever since. 

“I definitely think that they have a color scheme in their head and probably even a location.”

“But, we have plenty of time to discuss that. There is absolutely no rush and seeing as I know tour is about to start we’re both going to have our hands full.”

“Are we… should we announce this? Like what are people going to say?” 

Now you were beginning to worry.

“Who cares what people have to say. We’re two grown adults who want to be married to each other. And I actually have an idea about announcing it, but like I said. No rush, and we have plenty of time. For now, the birthday girl needs to go to sleep so she can have energy for her surprise party later tonight that she has absolutely no idea about because she did not hear what I just said and Urban is going to kill me if you say something.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh and shake your head at him as you once again made yourself comfortable under the comforter. It was around 12:45 and you had to be awake around 7 in the morning.

“I promise not to say anything and I will act very surprised.” You said as Jack made a motion to get up off the bed, but you quickly grabbed his hand to pull him back.

“Where is my fiance going?” You asked and all he did was smirk.

“More than likely you’re going to end up back in here before the night is over so just stay in here.”

“Good point. I’m used to you sleeping crazy anyway.”

“What the? I do not!” You said in response as Jack took off his shirt and got underneath the comforter with you and brought your head to lay on his chest.

“You either steal the blankets from me, kick me, or hit me. I’ve been dealing with this for how long?”

“But… you always wake up well rested and you usually never have a nightmare when I’m next to you.” You replied while picking up your head to look at him.

“One of the many things that I love about you.”

“Ooh, tell me more. I want to hear all of this.”

“Later, when my birthday girl wakes up, don’t read your card until you’re by yourself.”

“Did you put money in it this year?”

“I put money in it last year!”

“Jack, you gave me a dollar.”

“However, you got a Givenchy outfit, two Birkins, two Telfar bags, Louboutins, and new earrings so I don’t want to hear it. I gave you gas money.”

“GAS MONEY? IN THIS ECONOMY?”

“Don’t push it. I’ll take everything I bought you back.”

“Well you for damn sure not getting this ring back so you can forget it.” You replied while picking up your hand to look at it.

“Here you go, starting already.”

“I thought we were supposed to go to sleep? The light is still on.”

“We are, but I wanted to look at your beautiful face.” Jack answered while you rolled your eyes. 

“You are literally so full of shit. I repeat you know what I look like.”

“And you wonder why you only got a dollar.”

“Goodnight, Jackman.” You said as you reached over him to turn off the light and all he did was laugh.

“Goodnight future wifey.”

“I’m letting you know right now that I’m hyphenating my last name.”

“Whatever you want, babe.”

—-

Your alarm blasted in your ear signaling that it was time for you to get up, but Jack’s arms were wrapped around you so tightly that you were unable to move and turn it off.

“Babe, move your arm.” You quietly told Jack and all he did was groan and hold you tighter if that was even possible.

“No.”

All you did was sigh and try to pry his arms off of you with no use.

“You are such a big baby.”

“I’m your big baby. Five more minutes.”

“Then reach over and turn it off. But I do still have to get up.”

“No, you don’t. The birthday girl is relaxing on her birthday seeing as I literally canceled everything that you had scheduled for the day since I knew you had probably forgot.”

“I…”

“No, go back to sleep.” Jack replied as he reached for your phone to turn off your alarm before settling back down next to you and simply laying on your chest as you played in his curls that you loved so much.

“Did you sleep okay?” You asked and all Jack did was nod.

“No nightmares?”

“No, and I was having a good dream before it was so rudely interrupted by your alarm.”

“You slept in my room, remember?”

“Yes and can we go back to sleep because we have a lot to do today.”

“Well how long can I sleep for?”

“Your hair and nail appointment is at 9, now go to sleep.”

“Wait…”

“Nope, go to sleep. I’ll tell you more when I wake up.”

You did as you were told and woke up at around 8:15. You quickly hopped into the shower seeing as Jack had rolled away from you, so this was the perfect opportunity to make an escape. He was going to complain later, but you would worry about that when the time came. 

Deciding on your pink and white jumpsuit, you quickly got dressed as you now heard Jack stirring. You turned around to see him reaching for you and he quickly let out a sigh when he noticed that you weren’t next to him. 

“Y/N….”

“Jackman...”

“You left me in my time of need.”

“I-.... you were asleep!”

“So? Your point? Anyway, the car should be downstairs now to take you to get your hair and nails done. I’ll see you when you come back.”

“And be on your best behavior. You and Urban because good lord.” You responded while putting in your earrings.

“We will be! And we will not be getting ready for your surprise party later that you don’t know about because that part of the conversation last night did not happen. And I took all of your credit cards because everything is on me today. You’ll have your chai latte waiting for you at the salon. Your only job today is to relax and let me take care of everything for you. Come here so you can get your birthday hug.” You simply held up your hands in defense and weren't going to put up a fight as you walked over to Jack who was now standing and quickly embraced him. 

“Happy birthday my pretty girl.” He quickly kissed your forehead as you hugged him tighter and smiled.

“Thank you and thank you for everything that you do for me.”

“I think it’s the other one around, but for today I’ll take it.”

Jack made sure you got downstairs and into the car okay before going to bother Urban and to get ready for your party later. Jack was itching to tell him about the two of you being together or being engaged? Whichever one it was but since he hadn’t cleared it with you beforehand he decided against it. 

His heart just about jumped out of his chest when you had told him yes last night when he had asked you to marry him, because he honestly thought that you were going to say no. Little did he know that in the back of your mind, for the last few weeks you had been thinking about the marriage pact heavily and wondered if Jack had honestly forgotten about it. So when he did bring it up, you were almost at a loss for words. 

But now that you got him and he got you officially, you were going to do anything possible for your relationship to continue to thrive as you would soon have different roles. Going from best friends to husband and wife. 

It was around 5 in the evening when you finally returned to the hotel and sent a quick text to Jack letting you know that you were back in your room. As you walked further into the room, you caught sight of a black and silver dress along with a brand new pair of Louboutins sitting on the bed and simply smiled and laughed to yourself.

You went closer to see that there was a note attached written in Jack’s handwriting.

For my fiance (you are about to get sick of me because I’m saying that every chance I get),

Put this on and then text me when you’re ready.

Happy 30th birthday, baby girl 

Love,

Your future husband

Once you were dressed, you sent him a text as promised and within five minutes he was opening the door to your hotel room (since the two of you always gave each other keys to your rooms) and smiled when he saw you.

“Damn, you got a man?”

“Actually I do.” You answered while playing along.

“And he left you here all by yourself looking that good?”

“Bye Jackman. I am so done with you.”

“You look gorgeous as always. Did you like the outfit I picked out for you?”

“I do and it fits perfectly.”

“Now, are you ready to go to your surprise party that you didn’t know about and will act surprised once we get there?”

“Yes, and I can’t wait.”

The party was in full swing and you were mingling with all your guests seeing as Jack literally flew in all of your friends and family so it was a small and intimate setting which he knew that you would prefer. Crowds weren’t your thing and would quickly give you anxiety being around a lot of people. Jack noticed that you were now staring off into space and quickly pulled you to the side in order to make sure that you were okay as he could tell your social battery was slowly diminishing.

“We can leave whenever you want. Just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, I promise. Just a little tired, but I know it’ll be worth it.”

“Should we tell them? I’m surprised no one has said anything about your ring yet.”

“How about when we cut the cake we do it?”

“As long as you’re sure. It’s only friends and family so I know they won’t say anything until we give them the okay to.” Jack said while moving a curl out of your face.

“I’m sure.”

“Absolutely positive? Because we can wait, I don’t want you to feel as if I’m rushing you because that is the last thing I want.”

“You worry too much, I’m fine. I promise and I’m sure. Now I can tell all the girls to back up off my man.” You said while laughing and wrapping your arms tighter around Jack as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“You sure can. First thing out of my mouth will be is I’m taken and spoken for.”

All Jack thought to himself was that he knew from an early age that the two of you would end up together. However, it seemed like any time he tried to make a move you had a boyfriend and the last thing that he ever wanted to do was come in between that since he wanted for you to be happy. 

Usually once your boyfriends found out how close you and Jack were, they always accused you of cheating and would simply break up with you. But you had it in your mind that your soulmate whoever that was would respect the relationship that you have had with someone literally since birth and realize that Jack was not going anywhere and would forever be a part of your life and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Jack remembers comforting you every time it happened, he would give you a chance to have some time for yourself, but before he could make his move on you, you were once again in another relationship. 

“Let’s do this, then.”

“Happy dirty thirty to my favorite girl in the entire universe. I just wanted to let you know for the millionth time today how special you are to me and….. We have something to tell yall before we cut the cake.” Jack started to say and you were now in front of him.

“Should we say something or wait?” Jack asked as he looked down at you to increase the suspense even though the two of you already agreed on it.

“Hmmm, I guess we can tell them since they’re eventually going to find out anyway.” You responded and shrugged at the same time. 

“Out with it already!” Urban yelled while looking between the two of you and Jack simply held up your left hand to show everyone the ring.

“Wait, what?” You then heard him say and for good reason. 

“EXCUSE ME?!”

“I’m officially changing Y/N’s last name to Harlow.” Jack answered before grabbing hold of your face and then leaning down to kiss you as you eagerly kissed him back. Once the two of you broke apart, all you saw was confused faces around you. 

For that to be the first kiss you and Jack shared, you couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear.

The two of you have gotten close to kissing before, but Jack would quickly move away or you would.

Because deep down in your mind you never thought that he liked you back the same way that you liked him and didn’t want to set yourself up to be hurt in the end. 

“I… did I miss something?”

“Apparently I missed the entire relationship because WHAT?” 

“That ring is big as shit.”

“Did anyone know that they were together? Because I definitely didn’t.” 

And then you heard both of your mothers.

“WE KNEW IT!” 

Jack made eye contact with Urban who was looking at him in confusion and knew that the both of you would have to explain this to him later.

He knew that the two of you liked each other and would tease the both of you every day about it and asked when one of you were going to make the first move and ask the other one out.

So, the fact that now the two of you were in front of him and you were now wearing a big ass engagement ring was reason enough to have him in his feelings.  

With the marriage pact, you and Jack simply kept it to yourselves not involving anyone else just in case that something were to happen, as in, one of you getting married. Jack knew that Urban was going to be hurt about this seeing as the two of them literally told each other everything, and would explain his reasoning to keep it from him later. 

“Let me see the ring!” Your other best friend Ariyana said while coming over to you and grabbing your hand.

“I’m so happy for you and knew that the two of you would eventually end up together. I’ll beat you up later for not telling me.” She said while hugging you as you laughed.

Jack gave you a light squeeze on your shoulder as he went over where Urban was as you were now conversing with Ari and both of your parents.

“Urb.” Jack started to say, but he immediately stopped him. 

“So, we’re keeping things from each other now?” Urban questioned as he now had his arms crossed.

“No, but we didn’t want to say anything until we were sure. I promise it’ll make much more sense once we both explain it to you later.”

“As much as I got on the both of you every single day all to find out that the two of you were together anyway?”

“Like I said, we’ll do it later. If Y/N’s too tired we’ll do it tomorrow, but like I said once we tell you it will make much more sense.”

“It better make sense, because right now I’m ready to kick your ass for lying to me.”

“I get it, but fix your face before Y/N sees you. Don’t upset her.”

“I’m the only one who should be upset, but fine.” 

“Will it soften the blow that you’re going to be the best man?” Jack hopefully asked while looking at him.

“A little, but throw in some ramen and weed for good measure.”

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[independent-fics]

Inde watches “The Rollin’ on the River Job”

Leverage Redemption 1x03

“Hardison had to have a lot of practice before Eliot agreed to open those van doors” yes please missing 12 years lore (or original run lore) either way I love

I kinda love how Sophie just keeps referring to Harry as our Mr Wilson it’s cute. She really working to make him feel included

Oof growing pains with Sophie coming back and Parker being the mastermind

Really love Hardison’s algorithm. Love how he’s still helping them find clients

Ahhhh callbacks to learning it’s not always about the money with clients

“I lost count of my marriages, but I only had one husband” my heart

15 MANUALS WHERE

Sophie being happy to be back on a stage

”I’m Parker” yes you are

“We have to rob the vault” “YES” Parker my beloved she deserves all the vents and vaults 

Brennas “trash bags from couch, couch” the implications there

Telling Sophie to walk off after her “let’s go steal” get her back in the groove hahaha

a con with a flow chart Hardison making those for her and helping her ahhh I love them

“Are you using a flow chart for all your interactions” SO WHAT IF SHE IS and where can I get one

The Mark being upset about not being verified on Twitter goodness, they really thought these guys through 

Goodness, Eliot transitioning into OK I was a cop why is he so dramatic 😭this man closeted theater kid I swear the slight accent and tone change? Man suddenly sounded like he’s been through 40 years on the beat like what

I don’t like the cgi clay birds (idk why it bothers me like it would be cool if they learned ig )

I am not getting enough Parker and Eliot brainstorming moments together

Sophie that pink suit is stunning

Breanna already out and aboutttt

Gahgh nvm already benched

Gah the parallels of the newer team members growing like the originals

Parker’s you don’t like my dress? 🥺(also love that this is kinda mirroring the original run episode 3 bridesmaid dress? In a way)

Eliot bonding over cooking with the other security guard ahhh my heart

Ahhh more leverage friends??? I want all the lore

“It’s a very distinctive- hold on” the writers just couldn’t forget that love it

Ice cave, gorilla enclosure, catered a wedding I love these mentions

“Food sensory experience” Eliot you nerd

Harry’s little thumbs up to Breanna I love this duo

Nooo not Eliot’s new friend

Why they always go for typical Russian names we got Ivan Dimitri then the bodyguard is Jake??

Parker making Eliot smell the money haha I love them

Breanna coming in with the ideal gas law you smartical partical

Awww Eliot helping Dennis still and having game night (and the 7 shirt!!!)

THAT WAS MY CAKE PARKER (I love them so much)

Always trust the person inside the van (ugh Hardison I love your notes)

Ugh yeah Breanna me too about the world and the timeline of my life. I would love to kick it in the junk too.

With the pearl yes Parker!!! My beloved world famous thief

[daizymax]

a fanciful affair | hjs (m)

summary: your sister is getting married, and you are the maid of honor in the wedding party. to your surprise, the only other person in the wedding party is a previous fling whom you would have rather never encountered again, so maybe it's the “love in the air” that makes you agree to round two.

pairing: jisung x fem reader

genre: some angst, smut

word count: 8.9k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: profanity; alcohol consumption; mentions of sibling favoritism; mentions of societal/parental pressures; some heteronormativity; the wedding takes place in a church but there aren’t any heavy religious elements; pessimistic views towards marriage; jisung and the reader have poor communication at first but eventually they start to get on the right track; graphic sexual content; mentions of (past) casual & drunken sex; some dirty talk; a little bit of foot play; vaginal fingering; oral sex; semi-public sex

author’s note: reuploaded from my old blog and rewritten for stray kids bc i wanted to. i hope you enjoy!

{ click here if you prefer to read on AO3 }

---

“I’m on my way right now.”

That part is essentially true. 

“Yeah, I’m in the car.” 

That part is a downright lie. 

“Yes! Stop worrying so much. It's just the rehearsal, isn’t it?”

It takes two heartbeats for you to realize your mistake, at which point your heart practically stops. You close your eyes curse your loose lips. You hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud — it just slipped. 

Detonation imminent in three... two... one... 

“Just the rehearsal?!” Jihye screeches. “Are you kidding me right now? I mean, yeah, I guess it's just the rehearsal. …For my goddamn wedding! It’s only the practice for the most important event of my life. It needs to be perfect, and my Maid of Honor is probably still at home, probably not even dressed yet, telling me it's just the rehearsal. So typical of you, Y/N. Oh, and for the record, Mom and Dad aren't happy about you not being here yet, either.” 

You reopen your eyes just to roll them, then return to fishing your car keys out of your bag. 

They may not be happy, but it's not like your parents can be surprised by your tardiness. It’s their younger daughter — the perfect student, the perfect athlete, the perfect musician — who is the stable, reliable one. 

Sure, you know for a fact that your mother and father love you. They’d do anything for you, give you anything and everything they can. But you’re also well aware that Jihye’s compliant, placating nature takes a lot less of a toll on them. Your parents must be beyond grateful for her. Their nerves are frayed and frazzled from suffering through your rambunctious “phase” that still hasn’t passed. 

Your teenage years can be summed up in a series of jaundiced words, whiny protests, and indignant groans from your side of the ring, and stern lectures tapering off to exhausted sighs from your parents’ end. Whenever your attitude became too much, your mother and father would turn their attention to Jihye. She would present them with yet another trophy or academic achievement to soothe their souls and assure them that they were capable of raising a “successful” human being in the eyes of society. 

These days, you are keeping your trend alive and well by refusing to conform to your parents’ expectations of settling down in a monogamous heterosexual relationship for the purpose of “stability” and starting a family of your own. And, just like always, your parents have turned to Jihye for comfort. They are spending a fortune on your baby sister’s wedding, a clear display that they favor the direction her life is going. 

But Jihye — like most everyone else in the world — deserves happiness, of course, so why not try to make this special day as perfect as possible for her? If she wants to get married, she is certainly entitled to her dream wedding. 

Just shy of four months ago, in a show of sibling camaraderie and familial commitment you knew would please your parents, you had promised to be nothing but supportive of all of your sister’s wedding plans, from the humblest of requests to the most exorbitant demands. Your stamina had kept up fairly well, but you are gradually losing steam as the end draws nearer. 

Only a little over twenty-four more hours to go, you remind yourself with dull cheer. 

Though, if you’re being completely honest, you aren’t even sure that Jihye getting married is such a good idea. At least not so soon, anyway. 

She and her boyfriend (fiancé now, of course) had only been dating for eight months when he proposed. Surely that was not a long enough period of time to truly get to know another person, and you blatantly told her as much. But Jihye was over the moon and she couldn’t — wouldn’t — hear of it. She swore up and down that she knew in her bones Chris is definitely the one, which took you aback. Your sister was never one to be overly romantic. Jihye always, always keeps a calm, disciplined, pragmatic head on her shoulders. So even while you are quite skeptical of her declaration of having found her so-called soul mate, you also trust her judgment. She is the smartest person you know, after all. 

Besides, you can’t deny that by the rigid standards of society which your parents hold in such high esteem, Chris is everything a husband “should” be. He is charming, handsome, clever, funny, financially stable, and the epitome of etiquette. And, above all, he seems to make Jihye genuinely happy. He hasn’t changed her, but he does get your uptight, austere little sister to giggle and joke and relax and adore life. You have to admit you’d be hard-pressed to find a better partner for her to spend the rest of her life with. 

But do they have to be so hasty about it? And do they have to get married on their one-year-anniversary? It makes you want to gag. 

Presently, you collect yourself and say, “I know, honey, I'm sorry. Still trying to get my shit together and act like I’m the older sister here.” 

Jihye sighs quietly on the other end of the line. When she speaks again, her voice is much calmer and softer. “I didn’t mean it like—” 

“Yeah, I know,” you say. “I'll be there in ten minutes, okay? And for the record, I am dressed.” 

She giggles, and you know you’re on your way to being forgiven. “Okay. Drive safely, Y/N. See you soon.” 

---

Everyone who arrived at the church on time gives you peculiar looks when you join them inside seventeen minutes later. 

It takes a moment for you to realize it is because they all dressed up for the rehearsal while you are still clad in a pair of ripped, black denim shorts and a white tank top with the name of your favorite band advertised across your chest. Evidently the universe decided you just needed something else to mentally kick yourself over today. You only hope that Jihye and your parents will be too absorbed in other, more crucial details to waste energy scolding you. 

No such luck. 

In a flash, your mother is on you like a vulture to carrion. 

“I thought we told you this would be semi-formal!” she whisper-hisses in your ear as she hugs you. 

“Hi Mom,” you say with an unapologetic smirk. “Hi Dad.” 

“Hi pumpkin, glad you could make it,” says your father. He leans down and pecks the air near your temple. 

“Oh look, hon!” your mother exclaims to your father. Something behind you has caught her attention. “That must be Chris’s sister and her two kids. When did they get here? Let’s go say hello...” 

As quickly as that, your mother ushers your father away to leave you standing alone, but only for a second. 

“There you are!” 

Oh no, it’s the Bridezilla! you panic playfully, turning towards the sound. Jihye waves excitedly and hurries towards you with quick and dainty stiletto’d steps. Her fiancé follows her at a much more leisurely pace, hands in his pockets. 

Chris catches your gaze and smiles. Then he glances at the back of Jihye’s head, gives a slight shrug of his shoulders, and looks to you again with raised eyebrows as if to fondly say, Yeah, she’s been a little much today, but we love her.

You grin back at him from over your sister’s shoulder as she slams her frame into yours and wraps her arms around your neck affectionately. The scent of her signature shampoo makes you think of home.  

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you say. “I'm the worst.” 

“You are not, don’t say that. It’s fine, Y/N.” She might be reassuring herself more than you, but you’ll take it. 

Jihye pulls back and squeezes your bare biceps. Her eyes sweep over your outfit in the same judging manner as your mother’s did, but she manages to hold her tongue. She’s trying to keep it together for the rest of the day. 

“I’m just glad you’re here now,” she says instead, smiling warmly. “This should all be really simple. The minister already talked me, Chris, Mom, and Dad through most of it. We just need to ‘act it out.’ If we can just find your partner now, I think we’ll be ready to get started...” 

By “partner” you know she means whoever Chris elected as his Best Man, whom you have never met before. His and Jihye’s relationship has been such a whirlwind that you’ve never gotten the chance. 

It will just be you and the Best Man in the wedding party, which is one decision of Jihye’s for which you are admittedly thankful. Large wedding parties are typically too ostentatious in your opinion. Though you can’t help but wonder if there would have been more people involved if your sister had only given herself more time to plan. 

Jihye peers around with sharp eyes. “Darling, have you seen Jisung?” 

Chris also makes a cursory inspection around the place at her request. 

“Hmm... Well, I don’t- Ah, here he comes now, sweetheart,” he says with a gesture of his hand somewhere to your left and Jihye’s right. You look to where he is indicating and see a man making his way towards the three of you from between the pews. 

The immediate thought that registers in your mind is that he is extremely good-looking. Thick dark hair parted slightly off-center, eyes the color of bitter coffee, wide shoulders. The sleeves of his button-down shirt are rolled up to his elbows, granting a nice view of veined and sinewy forearms. He isn’t especially tall, but his legs are a bit long for his body proportions. His smile is wide but a little nervous for some reason…

… Oh no ...

You’ve seen him somewhere before. 

You’ve spoken with him before. 

You’ve slept with him before. 

And he was one of the worst one-night-stands you have ever had. 

It was something around six months ago when you had gone out with a group of friends to one of the city’s hottest night clubs. It was a scene you felt like you were starting to outgrow, to be honest, but your mission success rate had always been one-hundred-percent, and you were in the mood to score that night. The mission was simple: get laid. 

It was always easy to find someone to take home or leave with for the night, sometimes scarily so. It was nothing a form-flattering dress, sexy heels, and a boat load of confidence had ever failed to accomplish, in your experience. 

It was two shots and half a cocktail into the night when you spotted his friends dragging him to the dance floor. He was laughing, that much was clear. You think you may have even heard the sound of it over the chatter and thumping music. Maybe that was why you continued to watch him. 

He was awkward getting started, likely embarrassed, but he was good when he finally let himself go and really dance. His friends were objectively better — their moves were sharper, cleaner — but it was he who held your attention. Even from a distance, you could see his bangs were damp from his exertions and the heat of the suffocating crowd. His face was dewy and glowing. Even while dancing, he didn’t stop laughing and talking with his friends. 

“He’s cute,” said one of your girlfriends. “And he looks like he’s having a good time.” 

You didn’t need to follow her line of sight to know who she was talking about — you’d already been staring at him for minutes. 

It was when you had finally lowered your eyes to the dregs at the bottom of your glass when your friend had leaned in closer and said, “He's looking at you!” 

You remember snapping your eyes up to find she was right. The music had changed, and the man didn’t look awkward at all as he stared right back at you. He must have caught you staring. 

The events between then and when you entered his apartment were a thrilling mix of drinking, laughter, and shameless flirting. Some memories have been blurred by the shots you consumed, but others you remember vividly. His touch on the small of your back when he ushered you out the door. The heavy cloud of stale smoke in the Uber to his place. The exact angle of the tent in his pants while taking the elevator up to his apartment. 

If only the X-rated scenes that transpired after tumbling into his bed were as worthy of such detailed remembrance. 

He had been a messy kisser, but that was something easily excused by the healthy stream of alcohol muddying his veins. Unfortunately, it did not help his head skills as you’d hoped it would. His fervent desire to go down on you had initially turned you on greatly, but you soon grew frustrated at the sloppy way his tongue lapped at your folds — never in the right spots, and never with the right consistency. Several times you had climbed close to your climax, only to never quite crest. 

Frustrated, you opted for urging him to just fuck you already with the prayer that having him inside of you would be better. And it was better... until he came within five minutes of entering you, pulled out, then slumped to the side. 

Unfortunately, he was not the first man you had hooked up with to finish so quickly and leave you unsatisfied, but he was the first one to fall dead asleep within seconds afterward. He didn't even bother to remove the soiled condom from his softening dick first. You also left it right where it was and fled his place as quickly as possible, feeling an odd sense of petty payback while thinking of the gross mess he would have to deal with in the morning. 

On your way home, you sulked over the disappointing night that you thought held so much potential. There had been such chemistry between the two of you at first, after all. Sadly, he ended up just being some hot guy you enjoyed flirting with for a couple hours and a pitiful story you could tell your friends about later. 

You never expected to see or hear from him again, yet here he is. What a small, funny world. 

Except you are far from laughing. 

Your heart kicks into overdrive with worry and fear over the impending awkward situation, but you do your best not to let it show on your face. In fact, you resolve not to mention your previous acquaintance with Jisung at all. Definitely not in front of your sister and her fiancé at their wedding rehearsal. 

You manage to get your heart rate down to what you estimate to be a smooth one-hundred-ten beats per minute by the time Jisung the Terrible Lay is standing directly in front of you. 

“Hi,” he says, still smiling. “I'm Jisung. You must be Jihye’s Maid of Honor?” 

Oh, so he’s also going to play dumb. Good. 

You nod and introduce yourself (again) while giving his outstretched hand the briefest of shakes. 

“So, how do you know Chris?” You mentally applaud yourself for the calm steadiness of your voice. 

“Best friends since middle school,” is Jisung’s simple answer. 

“I wish you two could have met ahead of time,” Jihye chimes in apologetically. “It would have been nice if you had gotten to know each other at least a little bit before the wedding. I should have made the time for all of us to go out to lunch or something, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, it’s no big deal,” says Jisung. His smiling eyes do not leave yours. “I mean, it’s not like we’re the ones getting married.” 

He has the nerve to punctuate his stupid jest with a wink. You pretend to be flustered by forcing out a giggle in harmony with Jihye’s. 

Your sister glances back and forth between you and Jisung for a moment, and you can practically see the gears turning in her head. It wouldn’t be a surprise if she took a stab at playing matchmaker at some point today to hook the two of you up. 

Already beat you to it, you brood silently. 

“Shall we get this show on the road, then?” Chris asks. 

“Please,” agrees Jihye. She waves to the minister to signal she is ready, and he nods. 

The minister takes his place near the alter and requests that everyone else congregate at the other end of the chapel. Jisung sidles up next to you at a proximity that is a bit too close to just be friendly, but you refuse to acknowledge him by even moving away. 

It’s funny how senses work — a whiff of his cologne takes you straight back to that night. Your memory flashes you a vision of you leaning against his arm on wobbly legs, and you suddenly remember the feeling of his warm, slightly callused hands cupping your elbows to steady you. You swear you can even remember the sound of his amused laughter at your inelegant state, and the taste of his beer breath in the air. 

You force yourself out of your reverie before you become lost in it. 

“It’ll be very simple, everyone,” assures the minister, echoing Jihye’s earlier words. “I think everyone has already been made aware of the seating arrangements, so let’s just get straight into the processional order, and then do a rundown of what the ceremony itself will entail...” 

As more instructions are given, Jisung leans into you and murmurs under his breath, “You look nice today.” 

A laugh almost escapes you at his unexpected comment. He utters it with the perfect ratio of humor and sincerity. 

You manage to play off the smile on your lips by flashing it towards the woman your mother said to be Chris’s sister when you suddenly catch her eye. 

“Uh, thanks,” you say to Jisung in an equally hushed tone. 

“I mean it,” he insists. “You look every bit as pretty as when I saw you in the club.” 

You ignore his compliment and try to move your lips as little as possible as you say, “Can we please not talk about that here?” 

Jisung lets out a soft snort of laughter. “Sure, no problem.” 

He leaves your side when his turn comes to practice standing behind Chris near the alter, and you follow immediately after to take your place on the opposite side, all too aware of his eyes on you for the remainder of the rehearsal. 

---

His eyes are still on you when you take a seat directly across from him at the dinner table. 

Jihye, in her mildly Bridezilla-esque way, opted to forgo the big, customary rehearsal dinner with the families in favor of a more intimate meal with just her fiancé, her fiancé’s Best Man, and her Maid of Honor. Your parents were more than a little offended about not being included, and perhaps Chris’s were, too, but who were they to deny a bride’s request on the eve of her wedding day? What they don’t realize is that this is the cordial outing Jihye wished she’d planned for just the four of you months ago. It took everything in you not to roll your eyes when she suggested this arrangement back at the chapel, but you weren’t at liberty to reject her wishes any more than your parents were. 

“Ah, I’m so glad we’re doing this now!” Jihye says buoyantly. She even bounces a little in her seat to show how physically overcome with joy she is. She beams back and forth between you, Jisung, Chris, and back to you again. Sometimes you still see your kid sister in her. 

“Absolutely,” Chris agrees at once. 

“Yeah, this is... lovely,” you decide unenthusiastically. You swivel your eyes back to your menu when your sister shoots you a scolding look that says: Be nice. 

“So, have you guys been here before?” Jisung asks the betrothed couple conversationally, waving a hand through the air to show he is talking about the restaurant. 

“We came here on our first date, actually,” Jihye answers in a chipper tone. She scrunches her nose at Chris in a cutesy way and proceeds to tell the table all about the memory. 

In the spirit of neatly categorizing him back into place amongst your other lousy one-night stands and nothing more, you try not to grant Jisung too much of your attention when you fall into the conversation. It proves to be quite difficult, however. Listening to and observing him in this casual, non-sexually-charged scenario is intriguing. It also brings to mind a thought that had not occurred to you before: Jisung could make a wonderful boyfriend. 

You had been so wrapped up in your mission of merely hooking up that night months ago that you never stopped to think about whether or not the person you went home with could be more than a one-night-stand, or could even be dating material. 

But Jisung is. 

He’s witty but not arrogant. Funny but not obnoxious. Charming but not cheesy. Gorgeous but not conceited. His smile is distracting and compelling. His stories are interesting and comical. His laughter is merry and infectious. 

No wonder he’s best friends with perfect-fucking-Chris. But there has to be something wrong with him... 

And then you remember there is, in fact, a catch: his bedroom manner. 

That thought makes you snort out loud into your drink, and you sweep away the romantic notions clouding your mind. 

Some time between dinner and dessert, a local band begins to play music near the dance floor, and Chris whisks a giggling Jihye away from the table. As soon as they are gone, you contemplate making up an excuse to slip out, but Jisung is already speaking to you. 

“Good, we’re alone now,” he says. 

“Good? How so?” The question spoken with a different tone could sound cute and flirty, but the flat disinterest in your mumbled words is moody and a bit harsh even to your own ears. It doesn’t appear to dampen Jisung’s sunny demeanor, though. 

He simply grins and says, “Because now we can talk to each other.” 

You shrug your shoulders. “We’ve been talking.” 

“Don’t play coy with me, pretty lady,” he says. “You know what I mean. We can talk about the night we met, and why we haven’t met up since.” 

You groan and cross your arms over your chest as you lean back in your chair. “I’d really rather not.” 

Is he really that clueless? If he truly has no idea what went wrong that night, it is not worth your time explaining it to him. But god damn him for being so handsome and likable otherwise... 

“Okay...” Jisung says slowly. “If you don’t want to talk, then how about a dance?” 

“What, here? Now? I don't think so.” 

“What if I put it this way: we can sit here and talk like adults, or we can dance and I won’t say a word. What do you think?” 

The silent dance is definitely the lesser of two evils in your mind, but you are afraid of what other nostalgic feelings could be dredged up while in that intimate situation. Your only real option is to elude the decision he wants you to make. 

“You can’t make me do either,” you say. 

Jisung’s grin widens. “Is that a challenge? What if I picked you up and carried you to the dance floor?” 

You allow yourself a laugh at his joke. “Do you think that would be cute or something? I think everyone else in this restaurant would throw your ass out for trying, especially if I was kicking and screaming the whole way.” 

“You wouldn’t dare cause a scene like that, would you?” 

“You wouldn't cause a scene like that, would you?” you throw back at him. 

“I just might.” 

“Do it, then. I dare you.” 

The pair of you sit there smirking across the table at each other in a weird sort of stand-off, waiting for the other to make a move. He caves first by breaking the silence. 

“Dance with me,” Jisung implores in a soft, honeyed tone. His eyes twinkle brightly. He looks wholly unafraid of being rejected. 

God, he really is clueless, isn’t he? 

“No, thank you,” you answer shortly, stubbornness getting the better of you. 

“Would you dance with me if I was the last man on Earth?” 

His follow-up question comes as a surprise. He must be determined to get some sort of positive answer from you tonight. 

The best you can do is laugh away the silly question and wish him a good night. When you get up to leave, Jisung offers to at least walk you to your car, and after a moment of hesitation, you agree. 

You both say hasty goodbyes to Jihye and Chris on your way out. Jihye pouts a little at your abrupt departure, but she doesn’t complain, and you know it is because she is pleased to see you walking out with Jisung. Everything looks to be going according to plan in her brilliant match-making mind. 

When you and Jisung reach your car in the parking lot, you turn to tell him goodbye once again. 

“You were really awful in bed,” you find yourself blurting, apparently unable to keep the words bottled a single second longer. 

Jisung at least has the decency to flinch at your blunt assessment. The wrinkle of his face is noticeable before he turns his head away and takes a step back from you. You wait for him to retort, but he stays silent. 

Unbelievable, you think. He’s not even going to defend himself. 

Just as you turn to leave, his fingers close around your wrist. True to the nature of electricity, a spark jolts through you nearly instantaneously. His hold is delicate but it feels as though you are being branded. You whip your head around to regard him curiously. 

“Sorry,” he says, letting go of your wrist as quickly as he grabbed it. “Just— please wait. Let me say something. Please.” He emphasizes the pleasantry as if it means all the difference. He takes a deep breath; it goes in shaky and comes out resigned. “I know I was terrible. I could make excuses about being drunk and about you being so fucking pretty that I couldn’t help myself from coming so quickly. Both of which are true, for the record, but they’re shitty excuses and you deserve better because from what I can tell, you’re a pretty great woman. All I can say is that I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Y/N, you don’t even know how sorry I am. And I know you don’t owe me anything, but I would love to have a chance for us to start over.” 

At the end of his little speech, he reaches out for your wrist again and gives your hand a little squeeze. It is a soft gesture and over in a flash, but a warm tingle still ripples through your body and doesn’t fade. 

You can still feel it on the drive home... in the shower... when you climb into bed. 

You can still see his smile reflected in your windshield... against the tiles in your bathroom... in the blackness of your room. 

You can still hear his laughter in the lonely car ride... over the drumming of the water in the tub... over the serenade of crickets outside your window. 

And you can’t understand why it matters to you so much that he was terrible in bed that one single time. 

---

The ceremony went off without a hitch. 

The decorated chapel — stuffed with flowers, wreaths, streamers, candles, bows, as well as people donned in silk, lace, velvet, perfume, diamonds, gold and pearls — was a vision worthy of any bridal magazine showcasing the “ideal” wedding. Beyond the floor-length glass windows, the sky was dyed like cotton candy from the fading sunlight. A violinist stood to one side and played light, dreamy tones before and during the processional, then the classic Wedding March for the bride’s entrance. 

Jihye played the part of the radiant bride beautifully. Seeing your little sister’s eyes coated in glassy tears as she walked down the aisle on your father’s arm, then hearing the tremble in her normally steady and authoritative voice as she vowed her devotion to another person (all while wearing a several-thousand-dollar dress meant for this one single occasion) was almost enough to make you cry, too. 

Several times during the vows, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking across the aisle just to see the beautiful smile on Jisung’s face. It had been there since he met you at the other end of the aisle and presented you with a beautiful, white orchid corsage to match the boutonniere pinned to his lapel. When he slipped it onto your wrist, the touch of his slender fingers started to rekindle the spark the two of you had had months ago. 

“You look beautiful,” Jisung had whispered in your ear. “You are beautiful.” 

The same could have been said of him in his dapper black tuxedo and bow tie, but you could not locate your voice to tell him as much. 

The nervous flutter of your heart was made visibly apparent in the way your fingers trembled when he lifted them to kiss the back of your hand, but Jisung couldn’t take notice because his gaze was fixed on your face, and yours was fixed on his in return. The pools of his eyes were so easy to drown in. 

In that moment, immersed in the whimsical atmosphere all around you, you were prepared to give him the answer you couldn’t give him last night when he proposed to starting over. You were ready to tell him you had been foolish for not giving him a second thought all these months, and you would appreciate a do-over very much. 

But then Jihye was hissing from somewhere off to the side for Jisung to get moving, and you lost the chance to speak your wishes. Something about the small bounce in Jisung’s gait down the aisle told you he already knew what you had wanted to say, however. 

Now, here at the reception, it is time to forget about such sappy things and get drunk. 

If only the waiter with the tray of champagne would circle back around so you don’t have to go chasing after him and start up some “alcoholic spinster” rumors for your family to enjoy at your expense. 

“Hi!” Jisung appears at your side like a miracle, bearing a knowing grin and two flutes of the same champagne you were just ogling. “You looked like you needed a drink,” he says, letting you lift one from between his fingers. 

Your lips are already around the edge of the glass. “Was it that obvious?” 

“A little, but hey, who cares? It’s a party.” He pauses for a sip of his own drink, then says, “I liked your Maid of Honor speech, by the way. The story about your little car surfing adventure was hilarious.” 

“Oh, thanks,” you giggle. “I’m afraid my parents didn’t find it quite as funny.” 

“Well, no, but they wouldn’t, would they?” Jisung laughs. “But they did like the part when you said that Jihye getting married is far braver than all your teenage stunts combined.” 

You hum in agreement. “Hm. Yeah. Luckily, they don’t seem to know the difference between bravery and stupidity.” 

Jisung’s grin tilts lopsidedly at your comment. “Not a big, uh, proponent of the whole marriage thing, I take it?” 

“Nah,” you dismiss at once. “There are billions and billions of people in this world, and folks want to tie themselves to just one with a sheet of paper recognized by the government? To some person they met in a teeny tiny corner of the world without ever having stepped outside of the thirty mile radius they’ve lived in for their entire life?” The bubbly alcohol in your glass sloshes haphazardly as your hands become animated, but you pay it no mind. “And so many marriages just end in divorce anyway, so then people have to go through that whole fuckery. Lose half their money, half their shit. And the things they do get to keep, they have to look at and get a big fat reminder of how they picked it out with their ex-spouse during a time when they thought they were in love. They probably went to the store that day hand-in-hand and had no idea things were going to totally implode spectacularly—” 

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” Jisung interrupts, laughing loudly. “How drunk are you right now? Maybe I should take that back...” 

“I'm not drunk!” you say hotly and a bit too loudly, jerking your glass away even though he isn’t actually reaching for it. A few nearby heads turn in your direction, so you lower your voice and grit, “I’m not drunk.” 

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” The expression on his face does not look particularly sorry. “Can I ask you something else without you going off on a rant?” 

You deflate with a sigh, calming yourself before saying, “Sure, what is it?” 

“Dance with me?” 

You force the corners of your mouth down a bit to prevent your smile from growing too wide at the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. 

“Sure.” 

He does take your drink now, setting it aside with his before taking your hand next. 

If people are watching the two of you when you step onto the dance floor together, you are oblivious. The only thing you can focus on is the warmth of Jisung’s other hand radiating through your dress from its place on the small of your back when he pulls you in close, and the solid plane of his chest heating you from the front. You absently wonder if he can feel your heart racing. You think maybe you can feel his. 

“I haven’t looked around in a minute,” Jisung says quietly when you both settle into the soft rhythm of the music and begin gently rotating. “But am I suddenly the last man on Earth?” 

An ungraceful bark of laughter pops out of your mouth. Too late, you cover your lips with your fingers, but Jisung does not accept the movement of your hand. He reaches and brings it back to his shoulder, then gives it a few pats as if to embed it firmly into place. 

“You’re not the last man on Earth,” you admit without looking at him. 

“So you want to dance with me?” he presses, playfully ducking his face into your view to force your eyes on him. 

You exhale a softer laugh. “I do.” 

“Funny. Your sister said those exact same words a little while ago.” 

“So did your best friend.” 

Jisung curls his lips down and protrudes his chin thoughtfully. “I guess that makes them both stupid.” 

“Or brave,” you argue matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah. Or brave.” 

A few silent twirls go by before he speaks up again. 

“I have another question,” he begins slowly, then goes quiet for long enough that you eventually look at him questioningly. The resident smile is gone from his face because his lips are pressed together rather seriously. 

“What’s your question, Jisung?” 

He parts his tight lips and whispers, “If I were to kiss you right now, would you consider it brave or stupid of me?” 

If he could not adequately feel your heartbeat a moment ago, he certainly should be able to now. 

You take a moment to consider your words. “Neither,” you finally decide. “I’d consider it cliché.” 

“Ah. Well, what do you think about cliché, then?” 

You swallow hard. “I think I can handle it.” 

To put that statement to the test, Jisung suddenly dips you backwards, and you squeak in surprise. He keeps his eyes locked on yours while waiting to see if you will protest. After a long enough moment of receiving no resistance, he leans in after you and matches his grinning lips to yours. 

Several whistles and cat calls ring out all around you. The supportive sounds encourage Jisung to lift you back upright and continue the kiss ardently, which you reciprocate in full. Instead of simply enjoying it, your brain chooses to analyze the kiss and how much it differs from the last time you did this with him — in a good way. Either he has been practicing or alcohol completely abolishes all sense of his coordination. 

With that thought, you start to laugh until you are unable to maintain contact with his lips. Jisung celebrates your laughter by beaming and squeezing you tightly. 

The audience of people crowded around begins to applaud at the endearing display. Even the bride and groom — the people who should be the sole center of attention all night — are standing on the sidelines clapping their approval. It’s as if none of them have ever witnessed two people kissing before. 

Then you see the unmistakably hopeful look on your parents’ faces, and it dawns on you that they are excited by the prospect of you entering an actual relationship with someone. You know how their minds work. No doubt they are already going so far as marrying you off to Jisung despite the fact that he is essentially a stranger to them — and to you. 

Those bothersome thoughts threaten to spoil your cheerful mood, but Jisung reels you back in by pecking your mouth chastely. It feels like the punctuation to an unspoken agreement to a new start. 

You gift him with a flattered smile and allow him to lead you back into another dance, and everyone else resumes their own business. 

The fast pace of the next song immediately reminds you of the infamous night that has been on your mind ever since Jisung reappeared in your life yesterday. The way his eyes are following the motion of your hips tells you that he is remembering, too. With just a few well-timed shakes and some not-so-accidental brushes, things quickly alter from sweet and charming to hot and tense. 

Jisung brings his lips to the edge of your cheek and whispers towards your earlobe, “You’re giving me some dangerous thoughts right now, baby.” 

Boldly, you entreat, “Tell me.” 

He sucks in a breath through his teeth. “I’m thinking about asking if you want to get out of here, but I don’t think I should.” 

The scent of his cologne tinged with just a hint of sweat is positively intoxicating. The tips of his fingers grazing along your hips makes you lightheaded in the best possible way. 

“Why not?” you ask. 

“Well, you see, the last time I left with you like that, I screwed up and didn’t see you for six months,” he tells you. The smile on his face is a bit forlorn. “I don’t want to make the mistake of sleeping with you too soon again. I want this new start to be perfect.” 

His words are wise. You put your hormones on pause for a moment and envision yourself going on sweet dates with him in all the usual places — to the beach, to an amusement park, to his favorite café — before one night the two of you finally make love to each other in a perfectly romantic setting. 

As darling as all of that would be, you have no patience for it now. There will be plenty of time for those fanciful scenarios later. Or at least, that’s what you’re planning on. 

“The problem wasn’t us sleeping together too soon,” you explain. “The problem was that you were bad.” You pinch his earlobe to let him know you mean what you say, but in a playful manner. 

Jisung snorts and shakes his head away from your fingers. He seems unwilling to say more on the matter, so you have to continue and make your desires known. 

“Jisung, I’ve been waiting for months to get laid at this reception, and you’re the only one here I’m interested in following through with now,” you level seriously. “Besides, if we’re starting over, I need to know that the first time was a fluke.” 

“It was a fluke,” he insists. 

You press your lips to the shell of his ear. “So prove it.” 

When you pull back, there is still a somewhat hesitant expression on Jisung’s face, but the desire in his eyes is growing; the brown that used to be there is being swallowed by black lust. His gentlemanly resolve is crumbling. 

“Can the Best Man and the Maid of Honor even leave the reception?” he worries, still clinging to his better judgment. 

Good question. Honestly, you have no idea what the standard protocol is for the wedding party’s attendance after the ceremony is finished and the obligatory speeches have already been made at the reception. 

You contemplate just going to Jihye and telling her outright that you and Jisung are leaving. Certainly she has no further need for you to be here. But then again, there is probably something more you are supposed to be doing for her. Helping with the gifts or cleaning up the mess afterward, perhaps. But didn’t she hire a crew for that? You can’t remember. In any case, you can hear her incredulous tone now, scolding you for wanting to duck out early on her big night just to hook up with Jisung — even though she wants you two to become a thing. 

You gaze around and spot your sister sitting beside her new husband at their specially reserved table, feeding him a bite from her fork and laughing. She seems distracted enough for the moment. 

“We don’t have to leave. We just have to be quick,” you say, taking Jisung’s hand and tugging determinedly. “Come on.” 

You half expect him to remain rooted in place and hiss another anxious remark at you, but he comes along willingly. The things you assume of him never go as expected; you should probably stop assuming things altogether. 

Without stopping to survey the curious looks that you know are being shot in your direction — because it is clear that you are moving with a purpose and Jisung is along for the ride — you lead Jisung straight to a side room containing the gifts you were just wondering about and shut the door behind you. Not a second is spared before you grab the flaps of Jisung’s tuxedo jacket to pull him in for a more heated kiss. 

“This is crazy,” he laughs after you release his lips again with a wet suction noise. 

It is crazy, but it is also too thrilling to stop. 

“Well, it wouldn’t be my sister’s wedding reception if I didn’t try to cause some sort of scandal,” you joke off-handedly. 

“You mean your speech wasn’t inappropriate enou- hnghh, holy shit.” Jisung’s laughter dries up when he witnesses you sliding your panties off from beneath your dress. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps. 

With a smirk, you say, “Come on, we have to be quick, remember?”  

Your fingers work quickly at unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. Your hand slides past the band of his underwear to find him not very hard, but not completely soft, either. His breath hitches at your touch. 

“Ffffuck,” Jisung breathes. “You really want it, don’t you?” 

You grin wickedly. “Mhm. Really want to be fucked the way I should have been months ago.” 

You give his cock a squeeze, earning a full moan from him. You rub him up and down as best as you can from the angle permitted by the confines of his clothing. His cock stiffens rapidly and a lustful sigh overflows from his mouth. 

With a few quick shifts and yanks, you guide his erection out of his pants and boxers and drop to your knees in front of it. You don’t remember it being quite this thick, but you’re pleased. It looks so delicious. The head is ruby red, and the vein curving around the smooth underside looks fit to burst. 

Jisung gasps at the first kittenish lick you draw on the slit of his cock. One of his hands comes down to hold the side of your face. You peer up at him through your lashes and smile as you press the head of his cock against the tip of your tongue. He groans lowly in his chest at the sight. 

“We don’t have much time,” he tells you as though you haven’t already told him as much. His voice is already getting husky. “So we’d better make the most of it.” 

Unexpectedly, he curls his hands around your arms and pulls you back up to your feet. The action utterly confuses you. No man you have ever been with has ever stopped a blowjob before it has even started, and there is no way he could have misinterpreted your intentions. Is he afraid of coming too soon again? That’s certainly a likely possibility. 

Before you can question him, Jisung takes the back of your head and brings you in so he can slant his mouth over yours. The force with which he crashes into you is enough to bruise your delicate lips, but oddly enough, you don’t mind. The sincere passion he is pouring into the kiss is burning you from the inside out. He moves to assault your neck next, freeing you to speak. 

“Jisung, what—” You clear the rasp in your voice and start again. “Why did you stop me? I wanted to—” 

He interrupts you with a moan that rattles against your collarbone. “I know, baby. As much as I would love to have your lips around my dick, the point of this is to make you feel good right now. We can worry about me later.” 

He breaks away from your skin to glance around the room. There isn’t exactly a four-poster bed in the vicinity, so he decides the best option is to sit you down in a small chair. Either that or the gift table, but that feels like it would be a bit too disrespectful to Jihye and Chris. 

Jisung kneels in front of you and removes your heels carefully as you take a seat. His thumbs rub gentle circles into your smooth skin as he shuffles closer to you on his knees and leans in to peck your lips twice. His touch is sweet and relaxing, letting you know without words that he is going to take good care of you. The anticipation is nearly overwhelming. 

Soon, Jisung’s fingers trail upwards, following the muscled lines of your calves under the skirt of your dress. You swiftly drag the expensive fabric up over your thighs to give him unfettered access. He grins at you then looks down at the view you have so generously granted him. His hands creep higher and higher on your legs until he is tantalizingly close to where you need him most. 

“Jisung, we can’t take too long,” you remind him impatiently. The whine in your tone is apparent, but you don’t care. 

“I know, baby,” he says again. One of his index fingers skims just over the lips of your pussy. “Indulge me for just a minute, please.” 

He distracts you with another kiss, and you meet his probing tongue with a whimper of need. Since using words isn’t an option at the moment, you try to convey in other ways how much you need him right now. You pull on his arms and at his hair. Your feet glide along his legs and he opens them wider. When your toes bump against his cock still standing out from his pants, he groans loudly against your mouth, and you can tell it is not out of pain. He likes it. Emboldened by his reaction, you press the ball of your foot directly against his cockhead with a bit more pressure. 

“Fuck, that feels good,” he pants against your chin. “I bet you’re good with your feet.” 

Honestly, you have never tried serious foot play, but he sounds turned on enough to make you want to try. 

“Maybe you’ll find out,” you tease with a giggle. “Right now I want you to prove you’re good with your fingers.” 

“You got it, baby.” 

He finally pushes a thick finger between your folds and curls it, beckoning a gasp into your lungs. Your hips automatically jerk forward to seek more friction. Jisung obliges your body language and buries a second finger deep inside your walls alongside the first. 

“Shit. Your pussy is even tighter than I remember.” 

“Have you thought about my pussy a lot these past six months?” 

“Absolutely,” Jisung admits freely, and you have no reply for his honesty because you were not expecting it. 

He draws his fingers out to just the tips, then plunges them back inside without delay. He repeats the motion again and again, gradually increasing the pace. The sounds coming from your core are sticky and obscene. Your eyes roll back in your head, and your head falls back as well. 

“Fuck, just like that,” you urge breathlessly. “Touch my clit, too, please. I need more.” 

Jisung lets out a hungry moan. Instead of using his thumb like you figured he would, he bends forward to brush his tongue against your swollen bud. Your thighs twitch reflexively at the sudden contact on your most sensitive area, ready to either snap against his head to stop him or fall away even further to invite him in. They decide on the latter. 

A whimper squeezes out of you, along with a string of barely coherent encouragements. 

“Oh God, J-Jisung. Yes, yes, y-yes! Like that. Don’t stop. F-Fingers a little s-slower. Tongue faster. Please. Oh f-fuck, yes!” 

He redistributes his weight on his knees to get comfortable between your legs, then hastens to follow your commands. His tongue sharpens and digs relentlessly into your clit. The points of his fingers graze against your g-spot with each deliberate stroke, and that’s when you twist your fingers in his hair. 

“God d-damn it, Jisung,” you moan. Your body starts to writhe uncontrollably, trying to ride his face to your finish. 

“Yes, baby,” he coos sweetly, face still planted firmly against you. The vibrations of his voice tickle your clit gloriously, and you can feel his grin against your hot skin. “You taste like fucking heaven. Is this good? Does it feel good?” 

“Yes, fuck, oh, fuck, k-keep going.” 

He hums and continues with renewed vigor. 

Every time his fingers drag backwards from your pussy, you suck them right back in with a tight squeeze. His lips wrap around your clit and his tongue slips under the hood. The ministrations on your raw bundle of nerves drive you straight to the edge of madness. 

Your fingers curl against Jisung’s warm scalp. Your toes curl against the cold tile floor. Your back stiffens to keep your center firmly locked against Jisung’s face. Your breath hangs suspended in your chest for a long moment... 

...then suddenly you’re exhaling it with an expletive cry of satisfaction when you tumble over that blissful edge. Spasms wrack through your body repeatedly as it struggles to harbor the intense pleasure crashing over you. 

Somewhere in your electrified mind, you are aware of Jisung’s other hand on one of your hips, trying to pin you back down to the chair. You let go of him and move back quickly when you realize you must be suffocating him, and his fingers slip from you in the process with one last parting squelch. When you look down at him, you can clearly see the glisten of your juices slathered over his nose and chin and mouth. 

His grinning mouth. 

“I think you enjoyed that, baby,” he comments proudly, “considering I just about drowned just now.” 

You huff out a laugh and shake your fuzzy head. “Fucking hell, Jisung. Why the fuck couldn’t you have been that good the first time?” 

“I wish I could have been. Then I would’ve been doing this with you this whole time.” 

“Oh, you think so? You think we would’ve stayed together up to now?” You grin at him and push your toes against his shoulder playfully. 

He doesn’t answer you right away. First, he takes your foot and brings it up to his sticky lips to kiss the pads of your toes gently, one by one. Your smile falters when your mouth droops open at the strangely erotic sight, but his smile only widens. 

“Yeah, that’s what I think, pretty lady.” 

His presumptuous yet sweet admission leaves you speechless. All you can do is tug him towards you to kiss him with newfound admiration, heedless of the mess still glued to his lips. Truthfully, you relish the taste of yourself on him; you think of it as proof of the capabilities you thought he lacked, and you have never been happier to stand corrected. 

Jisung is the one to break away first, still smiling. “Can I have one more dance before I take you out of here to make you come some more? Preferably on my dick this time?” 

The bizarre combination of endearing and lewd words makes you laugh heartily. What a surprising man he has turned out to be. 

“Absolutely.” 

---

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copyright © 2023 by daizymax. all rights reserved. back to masterlist

[janovavalen]

—i adore youㆍ୨୧ㆍ

aegon Il targaryen × niece!reader

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ short story au

—part one — two — three — finished!

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ summary: the two of aegon and y/n never got along. never—all until aegon catches the oh so wonderful, sweetheart y/n targaryen at a club.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ word count! 4516

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ warnings! drugs (cocaine, alcohol, weed,) typical targaryen incest, small obsessive/obsession if you squint , depression, smut, arranged marriage, pregnancy…HA—sorry yall

fix idea from this tt edit <3

this fic will NOT follow the story line/plot of HOD! although i made up this au, i do not own house of dragon nor do i own the series, books, and characters! all rights

taglist:

@dixie-elocin & @iamavailablesstuff

when aegon woke up the next morning after y/n’s departure, his bed was horrifying cold. he thought he’d be rather used to the coldness of this bed every once in a while but given the fact he used to wake up with a woman by his side every other two days or night he wasn’t too familiar with it.

he wasn’t used to this, not a all, not even a little. he found it hard to even leave the house to find a woman to replace y/n but found himself unable. he was helpless. he hadn’t even known her for a week and was already attached to her.

y/n’s had this ability to her existence to make people whenever she met and was around to have them swoon over her just by the simple smile she flashed, white hair she would tuck behind her ear and the way her body swayed when she walked.

groaning as he got up and out of bed he realized he wasn’t even hungry for breakfast. moving sluggishly to his bathroom which she was in last, he tried to get ready like a normal person but would only think of her.

seeing himself not getting any better with looking himself in the mirror and trying to forget about her; his mind started to track over a way to get to her, without raising trouble against the families.

while he brushed his teeth he started to slow his motions when an idea popped into his head that’s usually filled with wine, whores and his bed.

smiling to himself a bit he spit the remaining toothpaste out and walked over to his phone, dialing his brothers number.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

as y/n laid in her room with her phone in hand she scrolled through her social media and looked through her own account of which was various pictures of herself and other things that she’s posted.

sighing while she turned over to her stomach as she sucked on the lollipop that she had in her bedside table drawer—she found that her candy and other treats would last longer then they’re hidden away from her brothers and daemon.

while looking at videos of her friends she laughed a little and kicked her feet in the air slowly as she wrapped her ankles around one another.

when her room fell silent was when a maid came barging into her room along with others who were holding dresses and makeup.

‘what is this!? what’s going on!?’ y/n demanded as she sat up from her rested position and looked around with worry. soon after the maids were settled in her mom came close to follow with her outfit and makeup already down and made.

‘mom—‘

‘my sweet, i’m sorry to wake you up like this im sure you were resting well but we have very surprising guests that aren’t too far away and i need you ready…please don’t give them a hard time like your always doing’ her mom begged while moving over to y/n and giving her a soothing kiss on the check along with her hand being placed on her other.

‘but mom, who's even coming over?’

‘i can’t explain now i have so much to do—i’ll see you later okay!?’ she rushed out of the room and closed the door behind her leaving y/n speechless and a bit nervous. the maids gently made their way over to y/n and ushered her up and out of bed.

‘come on miss. targaryen let’s get you ready’ they spoke to her with calmness and y/n nodded her head slowly.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

getting ready itself took probably thirty minutes or an hour…y/n never kept count on how long it took, everything was made in a rush but was made with no failure.

y/n wore a simple tight dress with jewelry that showed the wealth her and her family held. her hair done in a simple braided bun with two pieces left out to fan over her forehead.

the makeup was simple, foundation, lipgloss and some mascara. giving her a more soft look. very different from what she does on herself which would be more dramatic eyeliner, lipliner and others.

her earrings were deep red to match the dress she wore on her body.

‘your done miss. y/n, and you look beautiful’ the maid that was doing makeup—jessica—softly smiled as y/n smiled back and resisted the urge to gulp a huge amount of warm spit that was burning in her mouth.

as they walked out, y/n was soon to follow as she let the bodyguards shut the door behind her while she held her hands in front of her and walked with them behind her.

she hated the fact that her parents ordered these grown men to follow her everywhere she went. they’ve been almost everywhere anyway—walking down the dark and long hallway she made herself to the main entrance room where her bothers already stood tall.

the obvious look of tiredness and just woken up being printed onto their faces. y/n tried not to laughs as she looked at them. her dad stood present next to their mom who held her hands in front of her.

the guards looked at her who were standing next to the door and they gave her a small look before she gave them a look and a small and quick nod. just at that they opened the door and there entered her grandpa…along with his wife and her kids—one being so painfully obvious aegon targaryen.

y/n sucked in a harsh gulp of air which drew the attention of daemon and jace. he quirked up a eyebrow before letting it falter and looked straight ahead.

‘father, i’m surprised you were able to visit. giving your obvious disabilities of the moment. i’m happy to see you’ she smiled at her dad who stumbled his way over to her with his cane helping him keep steady.

‘my daughter,i’m more than happy to see you and your family are doing well. i am however sorry that our presence was unannounced—‘

‘no, no, i’m happy your here, all is well’ she walked her way over to her dad and wrapped a hand around his arm to help him walk to their dining room.

y/n looked at aegon with pure worry as he looked at her back with a small smirk on his face—he had succeeded into seeing her and that’s all that matters in the moment. as for y/n she was rather unhappy and pleased at the same time to even see him again.

remembering their last words to him she felt her head thump evene harder in her chest against her ribcage.

‘to the kitchen everyone! we have breakfast ready and warm for you all to enjoy’ one of the maids smiled up at the families in front of her. she gave her best face to hide the pure fact she was beyond nervous, her hands lightly shaking with worry.

‘yes…let us eat’ aegon spoke softly as he look y/n up and down, focusing on her neck that would falter and gulp the warm spit in her mouth.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

as the two families sat across from each other. y/n sitting in the middle of her brothers and her mom sitting on the end of the table and daemon next to her, her father on the other table and his wife sitting next to him.

y/n almost scoffed when she saw luke and aemond glaring at each other over the place of waffles. aegon watched her every move as she ate her pancakes in a polite manner, her fork and knife being in contact with each other as she would make a clean cut to have a much smaller piece of pancake.

gods she was gorgeous at everything she did. he was completely helpless sitting across from her. she was so close yet so far away and he couldn’t help but notice and acknowledge the pain in his chest at her paying no mind to him.

this must be a game to her—perhaps a challenge. maybe she didn’t want to give away too much to her parents—that had to be it. there was no other reasonable reason.

‘so, what brings you all here today? so early in the morning at that’ daemon decided to start the conversation which would have stayed silent.

‘ah…yes that.’ her grandpa spoke as he cleared his throat and sat up from his seat with as much strength as he had.

alicent cleared her throat as well before whipping her mouth with the white napkin that laid in front of her as she sat up straighter.

‘well, we felt it would be appropriate and probably better for our family and future generations too…’ viserys looks at his wife who subtly nodded and put her head down.

‘…too marry off our children. aegon and y/n make a perfect match—‘

‘what!?’ her mom yelled as y/n gripped her dress form under the table and looked at aegon in the eyes as he smiled at her.

‘rhaenyra…’ her father grunted as she held pure anger and disappointment in her eyes at the fact her father was thinking of this. sure they’ve done same family marriages for years. that’s how they all kept the bloodline strong in the family and made sure that nobody else had the family under their feet if anything were to happen.

‘no—no i should have a say in this and my say is no—y/n and aegon? i mean…i mean no disrespect but he is not fit for my daughter whatsoever—‘

‘mom…’

‘no i’m being honest and truthful i want nothing but the best for my daughter and aegon is not close to that. he is not worthy of her—he can’t even keep his dick in his pants—‘

alicent slammed down onto the table to stop her from continuing as daemon smirked a little.

‘you will not speak of my son when he is right in front of you. he is well known to his failures but you are last to speak when your daughter was out in a club with men twice her age—‘

‘y/n—‘

‘i’m done, have a good day everyone, thank you for coming’ y/n mumbled as she raised from her seat and rushed out. awh one watched her leave and got up close to follow.

‘where are you—‘

‘the men’s room’ he mumbled as she rushed after her.

y/n felt her beth quicken as she felt closed and suffocated in the room she was in. even though they were unmoving she felt as if they were closing in on her just as quickly as she walked.

‘y/n—‘ his voice weak, begging.

‘stop following me!’ she yelled as she held her dress from her feet to make sure she didn’t fall.

his heart pinged with hurt when he noticed the quiver in her voice but kept moving after her—‘y/n, please—stop‘

‘no! you came into my house and have your father ask my mom to wed me to you? how could you do this!?’

‘what’s the difference,huh?’ he breathed heavily as she stopped her fast walking and stood still, giving him time to breath and see that her shoulders were shaking a bit. walking up to her hesitantly with his hand out to reach for her own that gripped her dress, she allowed him.

‘what’s the difference? we have two days together and after that you told me yourself that if we see each other again then it’s meant to be—‘

‘i know…i know i’m sorry it’s just—i’m not ready for marriage aegon…i’m not—what if in a horrible person, you don’t even know me—‘

‘i know you enough to know you're the one for me…’ he pulled his lips in a bit as she turned around slowly. the small forming of eye bags under her eyes furthermore hinting her tears that threatened to spill.

squinting his eyes a bit in hurt, he placed his cold hands over her face and held it. the rinds that decorated his fingers adding more coldness to his hands as she placed her own over his and held it. the warmth of her body bringing peace to his own.

sighing, y/n looked up into his eyes and smiled a bit before he did back, leaning in to place his forehead over her own as the two of them closed their eyes.

the sound of nothing was peace and everlasting comfort to the two. since they were born basically they were born into the loudness of the earth and their family— y/n more lucky than aegon.

‘i missed you’ he mumbled out as he opened his eyes and she did the same. she shaked a small sweet laugh and shook her head a bit.

‘it’s been…what? a day?’

‘a day and two nights’ he remarked with a shoulder shrug making y/n smile even more.

‘hopeless…utterly hopeless’

‘i’ll take that from you, just so you know if anyone other than yourself were to say that to me they’d be dead the next morning’ he tried to joke only for her to pull away from him, having his hands to grip her own as she held herself at arms length and laughed.

as he watched her carefree smile and laugh he couldn’t help being followed as y/n’s eyes grew smaller with her smile.

after a bit she let her laughter and his own die down, their ringed hands interlocked with one another—‘well we’re shall we go now?’ she asked him, her eyebrow pointed up in curiosity.

now that he had her, he could go anywhere without a fuss.

‘anywhere you want, i’ll be here to follow,’ he replied.

y/n felt her heart flutter with a cheeky smile on her face and her hand pulling his body closer to hers.

‘follow me, to the end of the world then’ she mumbled with a hint of playfulness in her voice.

‘as you wish’ he played back, his hand being pulled by her own that was held behind his back. his chest practically closed with her own.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

aegon and y/n ended up in the garden her family owns. y/n and her mom had liked the life of mother nature and the beauty in the different colors and plants. the huge variety being nearly endless.

rhaenyra had y/n plant a small plant or two on each of her birthdays and her brothers the same—they had more simple plants such as trees or some flowers or cactus. but y/n was in control of the flowers and taking care of the overall life of them.

the two smiled at each other as they walked down the rocky pebbled pathway that led all over the garden.

‘so, is this your family heirloom?’ aegon decided to speak over the silence that y/n invited.

she turned around and held his hands in her own while pulling him down the variety of flowers and trees—‘you could say that…we just like the idea of a nice and clean environment behind our house…i wouldn’t know what to do if they all died i’ve worked years on them’ she smiled a bit as she nodded and looked around at the garden.

‘do you grow anything?’

‘apples, barries, pumpkins…mostly anything. jace likes the idea of having a small market behind the house’ y/n jokes at the remembrance of jace picking his own breakfast almost every morning.

aegon couldn’t really relate—his own family has built themselves around the idea and life of luxury that they hardly shared moments with each other— his sister and brother were the favorites, so they probably have more to relate to with y/n rather than himself.

‘hm…’ he replied. not really knowing what else to say. she noticed this and kicked her bottom lip a bit before speaking once more.

‘come on…i have a place you may like.’

aegon was quick to follow her. his feet hot on her own as they were being controlled by her very presence. he found this a superpower of hers. behind being able to pull him anywhere without his own mind being in control of his body

after a bit of walking, y/n led him to a bunch of trees that closed in on each other and made a perfect circle to close them off of the outside world.

‘i come here to relax, be by myself and sleep…i’m able to get away from my family duties here—free of them’ she spoke softly as he looked at the beautiful plants that grew from the bottom of the trees.

he liked how she was a beautiful person, and loved to be surrounded by beautiful things. that’s what she deserved. that’s all y/n ever deserved. the best for herself and the best things for the rest of her life.

watching as she sat down and patted the spot next to her, he quickly followed to the green grass where she sat. her dress surrounded her body and the fluffiest from it creating a pillow-like look around her.

as y/n looked out into the distance and sighed before laying down onto her back her hair—white as snow, surrounding her head, aegon although placed a hand behind him to support his body.

humming to herself in pleasure and silence he wanted to speak to her—hear her voice.

‘what is it you wish to do with your life? if you were free from this family?’ he decided to ask her.

he loved this question. he thought about it to himself everyday that he was reminded about where he was born and who birthed him. the family he was born into.

he always thought of himself as some rebellious child living freely to do whatever he wanted without consequence.

she looked over and up at him with a small glint in her eyes, humming as she thought of an answer she finally spoke—her voice soft and gentle as always.

‘i would probably party every night…sleep in with my curtains closed without anyone to open them. wear short shorts and crop tops just because…drink and laugh with anyone without being scared to be killed by some jealous person who wished they lived like me. i’d be free.’ she whispered.

he felt a sudden air bubble in his throat grow but he suppressed it. she and him were just alike. the burning urge and need to be free and do whatever—the need for life outside of their own.

that’s what drew them to meet…her freedom.

leaning down, aegon let his body overlap her own, his arms holding themselves up by his forearms, placed next to her hair as his hands held her soft skinned face.

placing his lips softly over her own, she immediately kissed back—the soft plush of her lips molding with his own.

his mind racing at the fact her lips were just like they were when they first touched each other. her lips glossed and warm.

humming into her mouth as he moved his hand down to her neck, she moaned softly with the increased intensity he pressed onto her lips.

‘your so beautiful’ he mumbled into her mouth as she let her eyebrows softly move up—her heart racing as he gently held her in his hands.

‘your everything i’ve ever wanted… y/n targaryen’ he called her by her name, her lips forming a small smile against his own making him smile back.

‘aegon targaryen, you are gorgeous, beautiful and very pretty—i admire you’ she mumbled back. his hips twitched into her own at the sudden compliment.

he was never used to these—at all. not even by the people who should have reminded him. feeling his chest squeeze with desperation for her he leaned back down and kissed her fearlessly.

she kissed him back—with the same amount of affection and desperation—her hands working their way up to his face and holding it against her hands.

her hips rolled against his own for friction in the slight ache that grew between her legs. her stockings and underwear began to soak and tighten as his own trousers tightened around his pained cock.

‘i need you’ she mumbled into his lips while her eyes slightly opened and he kept his closed tightly—trying to ignore the pain that grew stronger and stronger. she saw his resistance and started to hint for him to let go.

‘aegon…please’ she whined—her legs now trying to move more around his body against his hips that slightly moved against her own.

‘fuck—‘ he mumbled while she started to allow him to please himself through his pants and onto her clothed heat.

‘it’s okay’ she mumbled—holding his face in her hands as he whined. putting his face between her shoulder and neck y/n placed her s/c hand on his neck, her fingers working through the small bits of his shoulder length hair.

‘fuck—i need to be in you’ he mumbled in desperation.

‘do it, do it— it’s okay, i’m ready’ she encouraged. while y/n hurried to pull up her dress and make way for him, he moved a hand down to unbuckle his painfully tight belt and pants.

once he was free from them, he let his underpants slip down and out of the way of his cock that was painfully hard and aching for her warmth. the second her dress was out of the way, he moved his finger into her.

she moaned loudly out of pure surprise making him jump to her mouth with one of his hands—‘sh, sh—we can’t get caught…we wouldn’t want your parents to see their perfect child beind fucked behind the trees of their garden by her future husband, now would we?’ he smiled a bit when she shook her head, his hand being moved and replaced with his lips.

she hungrily kissed back with her hand moving down and helping him enter her body.

he groaned lowly at the touch that she invited to his body—a small shock wave of pleasure running up his spine.

‘are you ready?’ she mumbled into his mouth. aegon nodded and let his slight lidded eyes follow her own which stayed focused on his.

the seconds his hard cock was into her heat, the both of them reacted just the same—pure pleasure. he sunk his hips into her as they touched her own which she moved to grow more friction.

quietly moaning with her mouth agape, she let his lips hover over his as he moved his hips slowly. going in and out of her body to crest pure paradise in her mind and body—their souls and bodies becoming one.

‘oh my—‘ she mumbled as she held her hand, interlocking them with each other—her eyes closed and seeking her climax that had yet to reach.

‘your so beautiful’ he admired as she was in her own world. eyebrows turned and mouth slightly open. hair laid underneath her head and drew itself along the green grass below.

as aegon moved his hips faster in and out of her heat, he felt his climax reach, her clutching and relaxing around him—he felt her milking on his climax.

‘i’m close—fuck my love, i’m so close…’ aegon mumbled into her lips that held themselves around her.

‘mhm—me too, me too—cum in me, please’ she held his hand against his face once more as he closed his eyes and placed his forehead against her forehead as they reached their climax together.

finally cumming in unison—y/n let her lips overlap his. her body shaking and his hips unmoving—every now and again stuttering against her own as she milked him dry.

after a bit of silence, y/n cracked a smile, leading him to do the same.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

weeks turned into months and those months turned into years. not soon later they were finally married off to each other.

aegon and y/n had their nights were they snuck out to have freedom of their own rather it be in a club, a restaurant without guards or even a pool to be regular people and have their own fun to themselves.

when they got home every night however jace and sometimes daemon were the first to see them. always hinting they better not get caught by rhaenyra—there they couldn’t be saved.

after their marriage, things settled down between the families, rhaenyra still unsettled and a bit hesitant to the fact that they were to share a home and bed together once y/n officially moved out into his home and away from her.

at the moment aegon and y/n sat in their room together as y/n soothed hummed to herself in her bed and her phone in hand. shein was getting ready for bed and finally stumbled his way over to her, snapping down onto the bed.

she laughed slightly as he groaned and rolled onto his back—‘my back hurts more than ever now and days’

‘awh is your old man days finally catching up to you? can’t keep up, is that it?’ she joked as she looked up at her and gasped in playfulness before going over to her and pulling her down with him.

she yelped and laughed loudly as he twisted and turned her body with his own in their bed. once he started to nip and kiss her neck she laughed and started to slow once he started to calm down himself.

laying down with him on her stomach as he looked up at her, y/n smiled down at him—leading him to pull his body up and softly kiss her lips.

this was what paradise was. this was happiness that he thought he’d never get the pleasure of finding.

���how do you feel about kids?’ she randomly asked as he parted his lips from her own. he looked at her eyes with his lidded ones and smiled against her lips.

‘i wouldn't mind…a boy—‘

‘a girl’ she cut him off as she smiled. he frowned his eyebrows as she tilted her head slightly against the headboard, looking down at his lips and her stomach.

aegon finally took the hint and gasped as he pulled away from her stomach and looked between it and her.

‘really?!’ he gasped.

she smiled and nodded her head while he held his hands over her stomach.

‘i went yesterday…i didn’t get my period after half of two weeks when I was supposed to and got worried—so i went to the doctors, im expecting for december twenty first’ she smiled as he crawled his way back and over her body.

his mouth not uttering a word but only kissing her lips that smiled into his own. once he pulled away he could only mumble—‘i’m thankful that your giving me a chance to change who i was…i’m thankful—‘ he felt his breath hitch a bit before she placed a hand over his cheek.

‘oh my love—don’t thank me’ she mutters back before inviting him into another loving kiss.