#that would've been so beautiful though. can you imagine? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

phyrestartr · 11 months ago

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PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader

W/C: 6.9K (oh god lol) #NSFW, fingering, implied fucking, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is an actor, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), Gojo is an actor, Getou is a manager/agent, Toji is a stunt coordinator, Jin is a teacher tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @watyousayin

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?”

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle.

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold.

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him.

“...No proof.”

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you.

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige.

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational.

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair.

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you.

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard.

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?”

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought.

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.”

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.”

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless.

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.”

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly.

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly.

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?”

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.”

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. The fuck did they want?”

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.”

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?”

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you.

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest.

“For a kid,” you chastised with a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.”

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.”

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.”

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.”

Man. Man.

“A statement.”

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.”

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up.

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.”

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

Truth is out–Ryoumen Sukuna is the father, (Name) tells fans on social media!

Sukuna hated seeing that shit. The circus celebrities had to dance through used to be funny until he somehow got swept up into it. Until he suddenly had a baby boy that looked so much like him and so much like you.

He spent too much time on your socials, scrolling through promotion posts and photos of you at red carpet events and premieres–and then he remembered you had a private account. One that you said he could follow. One that he never followed.

Sukuna rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he sulked in bed. Was he really about to sacrifice his pride for this? Was he seriously gonna request to follow your personal account just moments after articles dropped and tweets were sent about him being the baby daddy? Could his pride take it?

Fuck me. This shit is highschool.

He requested to follow, and not even a minute later, you approved it.

That had him interested. Did you want him to follow? Did you want him to be part of his little guy's life? Were you feeling a rush of anxiety and excitement like he was right now?

“Get over it, you fucking idiot,” he mumbled to himself before scrolling through your photos.

There was so much more here. So many photos of you pregnant, of Touma when he was so ridiculously itty bitty, of when you were recovering in the hospital, looking worn out and exhausted, but still beaming as you held your little boy.

There were photos of his first birthday and the cute…rustic cake you'd apparently made yourself. Your agent, Getou, was there, as was one of your fellow agency mates, Gojo, along with some other folks Sukuna did and didn't recognize.

Of course, his boy–your boy lit up the centre, eyes glittering with the reflection of sparklers and the warmth of a good, safe home. He was happy. The boy–his boy–your boy was happy.

Then he called you. He couldn't help it, not anymore.

Sukuna paced around his penthouse, sipping on his spiked coffee and trying to desperately control his…nerves? Alpha instincts? Excitement? Fuck, he didn't know. But he was full of whatever it was, and it drove him nuts.

“Hi!” You answered as you picked up, so full of life as usual. “Been a while. How're you? What's up?”

Sukuna felt so, so old suddenly. Why were you so awake in the morning?

“Think you can spare some of that pep in your step for me?” Sukuna asked. He smiled when he heard you laugh on the other line. “Dunno how the hell you're so awake in the morning.”

“Well, I don't party or work on cars until the crack of dawn,” you purred back, so sweet and teasing. Sukuna almost got hard. Ugh. Ugh. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Hah? What, you sayin’ I'm irresponsible ‘n make shitty choices, babe?”

“Absolutely.”

“Tch. Omegas.”

You snickered again before cutting to the chase: “So, you're calling about my Touma?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yeah. Gotta say I'm pretty fucking confused.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He heard you shift in bed, triggering a rumble of grumpy noises from your little one. You hushed him gently and apologized before the small, crackly purring resumed faintly in the background. The thought made Sukuna's heart ache.

“What do you wanna know?”

Sukuna inhaled deeply. “Why'd you keep it?”

“I wanted him,” you said. “Next question.”

“...When did you know?”

“Mmh…I guess about a week or two after we stopped hooking up.”

“And you didn't say shit?”

You went silent for a moment, and Sukuna felt his nerves tingle and prick. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't feeling betrayed. It wasn't any of that. Absolutely not.

“I guess I got cold feet,” you admitted. “I don't--I know how many baby daddy accusations you get, y'know? I didn't want you to think I was just trying to get you to pay me out or something.”

Oh. Okay. That made sense, actually.

Too many omegas and women Sukuna fucked around with pointed the finger at him if they caught some sort of STI or fell pregnant; even if it was months after fucking, Sukuna would be suspected of fathering the pregnancy of a newly-pregnant, ex-partner he hadn't seen in eternities, and the media would run to the ends of the earth with it. He was the infamous bad boy the media circuit loved to prey on. And Sukuna didn't really care for it–not until now. Not until those fucks ruined his opportunity to be a dad.

“Fucking–” Sukuna sighed and put his mug down to rub his face. “Shit. Shit. Fucking media bastards. Fuck.”

“I need to get my car tuned,” you said.

Sukuna deadpanned. “Read the fucking room, babe, we're not–”

“Do you want me to bring Touma?” You finished, undeterred by the alpha's grouchiness. “So you can meet him? I think he'd like that.”

Oh. Oh. Ouch. His heart–was Sukuna about to die? Why'd his chest hurt so much? What the fuck?

Sukuna cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I–yeah? Yeah. Alright.”

“Okay, cool. When's your next–”

“Tomorrow.” He cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. “Any time.”

You stifled a laugh poorly. “Don’t be nervous, Sukuna.”

“M'not. Fuck you.”

“I can do tomorrow. Let's saaay…1pm?”

“Yeah, sure. 1pm.”

You rolled up at 12:59pm.

Sukuna had the garage open, everything tidy and ready to go like he actually gave a fuck about tuning your car when his literal fucking son was about to be in his presence. But he was so not nervous. Definitely not fucking nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never.

You stepped out of the car and Sukuna felt his heart jump; you looked the same as you did last time he saw you. You were dressed more casually, though, done up in joggers and runners with a university hoodie to top it all off. Clearly, you didn't care to impress today.

You threw Sukuna an easy smile before pulling open the back door and taking care in plucking your chubby bunny from his car seat. All the while, Sukuna wandered closer and closer, but maintained a respectful distance just in case your momma bear came out to bite. He knew you had an impressive temper when your easy-going self got pushed too far, and he would rather not bring that out right now.

“Pa!” Your son yipped as soon as he got up into your arms. “Puh Pa!”

You melted immediately, punching Sukuna in the gut with your happy scent of maple syrup and cardamom as the little one nuzzled up to you, repeating variants of “pa!” as he rubbed his chubby cheeks and snotty nose against your neck and face to get that perfect scent onto him.

“You're so sweet, bunny,” you cooed and adjusted him in your arms as you met Sukuna the rest of the way. “Hey, hey! So, did you want to meet him first, or–?”

Sukuna didn't know what the fuck to do, honestly.

“I, uh. Car shit first. What needs tuning?” He drawled, watching the pup clinging to you with rapt attention.

Admittedly, Sukuna didn't really pay attention to what you were saying and what you were gesturing to; he was too captivated by the faint wisps of scent he caught from your little one. He smelled of smoke and syrup–a perfect combination of his parents’ scents.

And he just looked so much like the both of you. Touma's skin tone tilted more your direction, but the glowy, bronzey quality that Sukuna brought to the table still shone through in its own weird way. His eyes were almond-shaped like his own, but bore the same, welcoming colour of yours. And, fuck, his hair was just a perfect match to Sukuna's. If the little shit got Maori tattoos too, he'd be a tiny carbon copy.

Damn. Speaking of–would his mom wanna meet the little shit? Her grandson? Would she ever bother leaving Hawaii to–

“You get all that?” You asked.

Sukuna stared at you. “Get what?”

You pursed your lips like you so often did and turned to the big, bad alpha.

“Maybe we should do the meet ‘n greet first, huh?” You swayed a little and kissed Touma awake. “Baby, you wanna meet a friend?”

“Buh!” Touma exclaimed. You gently guided his little face to look at Sukuna, and the boy looked star struck staring up at the absolute unit that was Ryoumen Sukuna.

“Touma, this is Sukuna.” You closed the gap between the two of you a little more, and Sukuna leaned down to look at the little one. His little one.

Sukuna twitched a smile as he looked over the little thing. “You sure this thing’s mine? Looks a little small.”

You laughed. “If you were born as big as you are, I’m so, so sorry for your mother.” You nuzzled Touma’s little cheek and bounced him a little.

“Wuh!” Touma’s little arms flew up towards Sukuna, and the towering man looked a little more than nervous, looking at the tiny pudgy hands like they were deadly weapons.

“Come on, don’t look at him like that.” You took Sukuna’s hand and delivered it to Touma. “He’s curious. He hasn’t met anyone as big and tall as you, y’know?”

Sukuna huffed, but let the little one grab at his fingers and hold his hand. “What, you don’t have another alpha looking after you? Hard to believe that. You're the neediest little bitch I know.”

“Stop. I'm not Yorozu,” you huffed, and Sukuna cringed at the name. “He has alphas around, sure. But not big ones like you–security excluded. It's not like other men want to play nice with another alpha's pup.”

Sukuna caught the hint of a frown on your face, and his hackles started to rise.

“Some dumbfuck giving you grief?�� Sukuna asked, voice rolling with thunderous promise. He'd kill whatever moron fucked with you and his pup. You just had to drop the name.

You sighed, light-hearted. “You know what the rich and famous are like--we're the worst.”

Sukuna growled, and Touma mimicked the noise as best as he could with his pathetically teeny tiny crackled voice. Fuckin’ cute as shit.

“Tch. Don't sell yourself short.”

“I'm just trying to say I don't need that around my boy, and I sure as hell don't want it around me, either.” You nodded and stepped closer as Touma reached up for Sukuna again. Apparently just holding his hand wasn't doing it for the boy anymore.

“Good. Don't need those pathetic fucks around the runt–oi, wait, what the fuck're you–”

“Wup, wup!” Your son shrieked as you helped bully Sukuna into holding him.

“He wants uppies.”

“Uppies,” Sukuna balked.

“He wants you to–okay, you're bad at this–don't hold him like that! Here, do it like–” you cut off as you helped Sukuna get a comfortable hold on Touma while the littlest one squirmed and squeaked in delight, trying to climb up onto Sukuna's shoulder but failing miserably.

Sukuna twitched a smile as you sighed, exasperated by the ball of energy trying to scale the mountainous man. But he got a hold of him, tucking his arm under his butt and holding his back to make sure the little shit didn't go plummeting to the floor.

“You give your ma hell, huh? I can get behind that,” Sukuna hummed. His son's little hands papped at his face, grabbing at his nose and jaw–specifically over the dark tattoos streaking along the curves and cut of his features.

And you smiled the entire time. You pursed your lips tightly to hide it, but you did it so poorly. You always did. Maybe it was on purpose.

“So, can I tell you about my car problems now?”

Sukuna held onto his runt while you explained what flaws, either cosmetically or mechanically, were bothering you. It mostly consisted of slight dents from other assholes not knowing how to park, paint scratches, and more of that sort. As a fellow car guy, Sukuna could understand the anguish of having a favourite baby get all dinged up.

“Not hard to fix,” Sukuna decided. He held the hood up with one hand and looked over the motor–everything looked clean and well-maintained. He was almost impressed. “But, well, it'll cost ya. Uraume can send the details.”

You nodded. “Sure, sure, sounds good. I'm never taking this thing on the road again after it's fixed. Too many fucking idiots out there with piss poor driving skills.”

The mechanic smirked. “Ho? So beating up your car is what makes you start cussin’, huh? Noted.” He let the hood fall closed and adjusted his hold on the now-sleeping tot. “Couldn't even get you to do that in bed.”

“Psht, don't say that in front of the baby, Sukuna, jeeze,” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Babies remember more than you'd like to know.”

“Huh. You think he'll remember when he got–”

“No, he won't remember his inception.” You laughed and shook your head, but paused when you saw smears of concealer on your fingers and tutted.

“How long's the car gonna take? Should I get a rental?” You asked before the man could comment.

“Probably, if you want me to detail this thing right,” Sukuna mumbled. He reached out and turned your chin back to him, looking at the spots concealer missing, hinting at dark circles under your eyes.

Your face grew hot, but you nodded and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay. I'll, uh. I'll call someone to pick us up–”

“I'll take you home.”

You brightened the slightest bit. “Yeah? I–okay.” You pulled his hand from your face and smiled. “I'll grab the car seat.”

Sukuna liked your house. It was a nice mix of traditional and modern with large stretches of woodgrain and bamboo. A neat outdoor garden and pond decorated the front, but a bigger, more lush collection of tropical plants greeted guests. It was beautiful, if one was desperate to be in nature.

“I'm just gonna get him to bed, be one second.”

Sukuna nodded and pocketed his hands as he pretended to not watch you trot upstairs with the sleepy cub melting in your arms. You still had a nice ass even after popping that little melon out. Huh.

He looked around your space more, wandering with slow, lumbering steps. The house wasn't huge by any means, but it was cozy and warm, quiet and hidden away from the city's gaze. That was probably why you chose it–here, you could be honest with yourself. You could shield your babe from the brutality of your career and keep him safe from leering eyes. Honestly, one of the leaves on your giant monstera could hide him from the whole universe.

Guy's too obsessed with growing shit. It ticked him off, but he didn't know why.

Maybe it was all the photos of you and Touma. Maybe it was because he wasn't in them and too many other men were in his place, lining your walls in the protection of cheap IKEA frames–but Sukuna didn't want you. No, no, Ryoumen Sukuna did not want anyone. He didn't want you. He didn't need to settle down and–

“You want a glass of wine?” You asked when you came back down the stairs. “It's plum wine. Don't really have any scotch or anything, but I–”

Sukuna scoffed before a mocking laugh slipped out of him. You paused, looking at him with bleak attention as he shook his head and pocketed his hands. Your request for him to stay pissed him off; clearly, you expected something more from him.

“Whaddaya think is gonna happen here, huh? You think we're gonna fall in love, pick up where we left off, have a happy little fuckin’ family to tell the tabloids about?”

“What?” You asked. “I never–”

“Didn't have to. Gotta admit, you did a better job than the rest of the whores that tried wrangling me in to–”

“All I asked,” you cut him off, voice quiet but firm, “Is if you wanted wine. I’m not proposing, Sukuna.”

Sukuna didn’t like that. The whole…not-being-into-him and not wanting him to stick around after he just shut you down. He sucked his teeth and took a breath, about to say something, but you spoke first.

“I know this is a PR thing. I know how the whole media circus works–you want your ex to stop bothering you, and I want people to stop asking questions about who the fucking father of my son is.” You paused, staring Sukuna dead in his eyes, a quiet, simmering rage boiling just beneath the surface of placid control.

“Call my manager when the car’s done,” you decided, sounding beaten down and exhausted. “I’ll send someone for it. Thanks for the ride home.”

Next thing the man knew, he was ushered toward the door and stood in the doorway, stuck on the idea of being kicked out of his omega’s–no, no, out of an omega’s house like he was trash.

“Fucking–wait, just–”

“What?” You snapped.

“I could–glass of wine doesn’t sound too bad–”

You shoved the bottle into his hands and slammed the door.

Sukuna tried to sleep it off–as in, he slept around to forget about the crushing weight of rejection collapsing down on him, shattering his chest, spearing his heart with shattered bone.

You still kept being so fucking nice to him, too. You never slandered him, never spoke ill whenever he was asked about in interviews–you spared his reputation with a kind smile every time you had to talk about him or to him.

And he was grateful for it, even if he didn't return the favor. It's not like he was on a smear campaign, no, but anytime a hook up would ask about you, he wouldn't give a glowing review, per se. But it wouldn't be scalding either. Just sheer indifference tainted with drops of bitterness stemming from unripe guilt.

It went on like that for months–until you did your parental duties, and set aside your feelings about Sukuna for the sake of your son.

“Uraume, get that,” Sukuna called as his phone rang. He was too busy fucking around under the hood of his latest project to wipe his hands free of grease and pick up himself, obviously.

But Uraume was there for a reason. They picked up the phone with a polite hello before their sharp frigidity melted into rounded edges.

“(Name)-san,” they hummed. “It's good to hear from you. Do you need to talk to Sukuna-san?”

Sukuna started wiping his hands off so unbelievably fast.

“He's working on a car right now. You know how he can be when he's focused.”

“Fucking–piece of shit–what the fuck–” somehow, he got even more grease and oil on his hands thanks to that stupid fucking rag. God, what a nightmare.

“Sure, I can take a message.”

“Fuckin’ shit fuck, fuck.” He wiped his hands on his designer jeans before running to Uraume and gesturing for the phone.

Uraume's brows raised, and they actually smiled.

“Ah, hold on, Sukuna-san's here.”

Sukuna snatched up the phone, ignoring the knowing look glimmering in Uraume’s eyes. Ugh. Ugh. Betas.

“Hey,” Sukuna said after clearing his throat.

“Hey! Ume said you were working on a car? You didn't have to stop to talk.”

“Yeah, well.” Sukuna shrugged to himself and kicked a scrapped car part, sending it skittering across the ground and clanking into other parts. Jesus, when did his shop get so messy? “Needed a break anyway.”

“Ah. You work too hard, you need to take breaks more often,” you laughed sweetly. “So, listen, Touma's birthday's coming up–”

“Shit, seriously?” Sukuna grinned and kicked another chopped part. “Fuck. How old's the little shit turning?”

“Two! He's growing up so fast, I wish I could slow down time and–” you paused and laughed, suddenly sounding unsure and a bit nervous. “Sorry, sorry, was about to go on a tangent. Anyway, there is a little get-together, but you don't have to come. Satoru and Toji'll be there. But your brother and his son'll be there, too, so it won't suck completely.

“Otherwise, if you want to come see him earlier or something, that's fine, and–and you're not cutting me off and I didn't think I'd get this far so I'm losing the plot.”

Sukuna huffed. “What, you don't want me to fuckin’ listen, huh?”

“I know you will since I have such a pretty voice, but I'm surprised you're being a good boy for once.”

The mechanic rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. Who knows if it was to wipe away embarrassment or fatigue.

“You’re exhausting.”

“And you’re a dick.” There was a special brand of teasing bitterness behind those words, but the vibes were balanced perfectly; seemed you were still cranky about what he said, but you were willing to let it slide.

Sukuna chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Alright. I don't know what the fuck kids like at that age, but I'll figure somethin’ out. I can at least show up Jin.”

“Wow.”

“Text me time and place. I'll be there.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll bring some plum wine. Fancy shit.”

The hidden rumble of a purr snuck its way out from your side, and Sukuna did everything he could to suppress his alpha's reciprocation.

“Sounds good. See you then, Sukuna.”

Toji answered the door.

“Hah. Why the hell are you here?” The fuckhead ex-Zenin asked with a stupid, shitty smirk on his dumbass face.

Sukuna strained not to throw the first punch. He really shouldn't murder someone at his--your son's birthday party. Murder is bad. Murder is bad.

“Fuck you.” Hey, at least it wasn't murder. “‘M here for my fucking kid.”

Toji crossed his arms and suddenly looked beyond bored as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Your kid? You mean (Name)’s kid?” He wondered, putting on a show of thinking. “Weird.”

“You're one to talk. You forgetting what you did to your own brat? You fuckin’--”

“Sukuna!” Your sweet voice called, instantly changing the atmosphere. “Glad you came. Do you–oi, Toji, move, stop bodyguarding. You're not a bouncer.”

“Eh?” Toji stayed in his spot as you smacked at his arm and tried to push him away. “I'm just standing here. Not bodyguarding. Minding my business.”

“You’re so full of shit.” You wheezed and squeaked as the man suddenly gave way, nearly making you crash into him and plummet to the floor. But you caught yourself and hissed at the dark-haired menace until he whistled innocently and waltzed away.

“Fucking--why’s he here again?” Sukuna grumbled as you let him in. He leaned down to nose at your cheek with a grumpy, quiet grunt--typical greeting procedures for an interested individual or bonded pair. But the way you choked on whatever you were about to say meant he must've caught you off guard.

“He's uh–we work together. We've worked together? He was the stunt coordinator for some movies I've been in.” You cleared your throat and took the present bag from Sukuna to place with the others. “And I babysit Gumi sometimes.”

“Gumi? What the fuck is a Gumi?”

“Megumi? His son?” Oh. Oh. “I babysit Yuuji too, so. Thick as thieves, y'know?”

Sukuna nodded a little, thinking hard on the lore. He liked that Yuuji was taken care of by you, but surely that wretched Gumi could go somewhere else. Toji was probably just leeching off of you.

“Oi, Momma, get in here,” Toji crowed from wherever all the baby giggles and excitement bubbled from in the house. “Your boys need some maternal guidance–”

“Toji, don't make it weird!” Jin whisper-yelled before going on a long-winded rant about this and that, about proper behaviour and attitudes in front of children (not that the kids were paying attention to anything Toji did).

You gave Sukuna a tired smile. “Come on. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Sukuna sighed, but let you drag him to his demise, bottle of wine in-hand.

But it wasn’t that bad. Not really.

Your other boys, Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru, showed up and showered tiny Touma with way too much praise and far too many gifts, but the little shit looked so pleased that Sukuna couldn’t get too annoyed. Shoko and Uraume came by, too, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Uraume brought with them a whole fucking confectionary cake they’d crafted themselves at home. Gojo obsessed over it and Getou tried to reign him in to no avail.

And the night went on. No one talked shit, not unless it was in good fun, no one got fucking hammered, no one talked about work–it was all about the kids. Nothing else. No one else.

Sukuna could never guess just how far that truth went.

When everyone left for the night, the alpha could start to see the edges of your smile fraying. But you held on, thanking everyone for the gifts and for showing up for Touma, and especially thanking Jin for offering to let all the little ones spend the night at his place (you and Toji would forever be in his debt).

Then, when the door closed and all fell silent, he heard you cry.

Sukuna didn't know what to do about people crying. He never had. Even when he was a kid, he had a hard time trying to comfort people with hugs and words of reassurance–he just couldn't do it.

“It's okay,” he heard you whisper. “It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. It's okay. I'm okay.”

Sukuna got up and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. “Sure about that?”

You jumped and clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. Sukuna barked out an ugly, reedy laugh while he defended himself from your petty smacks and pinches.

“You scared the fuck out of me–why're you still even here? Go home! Shoo!” You wiped your eyes once you were done harassing him and turned away, busying yourself with cleaning up dishes and wrapping paper left in the aftermath.

Sukuna followed you idly, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. What could he say? He loved seeing you get all petty and riled up. But he didn't love seeing you cry. He didn't love seeing you try to stealthily wipe tears away, to try and steady your shaky breathing.

“What’s going on with you, babe?” Sukuna asked as he settled beside you at the sink.

“It's nothing,” you said with a snuffle. “It's seriously nothing. Sorry, I--you don't need to stay. Or anything.” You sighed and rubbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “You've done your fatherly duties. You're free to leave.”

“Yeah? ‘N what about my baby daddy duties?” He wondered, voice so horribly low and comforting, like the buzzing crackle of a campfire.

You laughed, watery and shaky. “You already did everything you needed to, Sukuna.”

“Come on, don't cockblock me like that.” He gently tilted your Chin his way to catch your eyes just like he had back at the shop all those months ago. “Look at me.”

You did. Your eyes were red and irritated, whatever pretty boy make up you wore was wiped off and smudged, and those heavy, dark bags met the light in front of someone else for the first time in a long time.

You still had the gall to laugh it off and pull Sukuna's hand from your face with a small, “I'm fine,” though.

“Then why the hell are you crying?” He asked.

You squeezed his hand with both of yours. “Things are just…hard. Overwhelming.”

Sukuna nodded a bit. “That why Jin took the runts tonight?”

“Yeah. Needed some time, I guess.” You snuffled and wiped your face with both hands before finishing up with cleaning. “Makes me sound like a shit parent, I know.”

Sukuna couldn’t disagree more. “Least you're not flipping out on the kid. That'd be way shittier, yeah?”

“I don't know. I guess, but–yeah. I don't know.”

Sukuna sighed and scooped you up like a new bride. “You're driving me fucking mental.”

“Sukuna–!”

“Quiet.” Your omega indeed piped down at the grouchy command, and you shyly let the man carry you up the steps to find your bedroom. “You're getting some damn rest. You look like shit.”

You grumbled something Sukuna elected to ignore in favour of tossing you onto a bed the way one might lob a stone into a pond. You landed with a warbled squawk and looked at Sukuna with horribly accusatory, baffled eyes.

Sukuna quirked a brow as he looked down on you, gladly using his broad build and tall stature to secure your submission. And it worked; the aggravated spark in your eyes curled up and fell silent after a few long seconds. Your head lowered just the slightest bit, too, but your passive gaze remained stuck on him, waiting for his next move.

“Fine,” you grumbled.

Sukuna raised his brows and eased onto the bed, caging you underneath him with his solid frame. Your scent flickered with shy playfulness, and Sukuna relished in it.

“How do I know you're gonna obey, omega?”

“I guess you don't. Not for certain,” you admitted begrudgingly.

“Tch. Someone's gotta keep you accountable then, huh?” He nosed at your neck, nearly letting his lips touch your neck but refusing to do so in the same instance. “Make sure you're doing the right thing, make sure you're behaving.”

One of his hands squeezed at your soft thigh before inching up little by little. Your hands found themselves in his hair as he teased at your joggers’ waistband, pulling the elastic taut before letting it go.

“Sukuna,” you laughed, sounding a little breathless. “I, uh–I thought you said–”

“Changed my mind.”

“But–”

“Forget what I said and let me make you cum on my fingers, brat.”

Oh. Well, hard to argue against that.

You swallowed but gave a meek nod. He ripped your bottoms off and felt up your blazing skin with rough, calloused hands, groping and grabbing in the same spots he liked back when you were hooking up: your thighs, your hip bones, the squish of your stomach. As much as the man harped on about not wanting “damaged goods,” he sure worshiped your body like it was brand new, untouched.

Sukuna brought his fingers to your mouth, and you took them with utmost compliance. Your tongue worked against his digits thoughtfully and thoroughly for your own sake–a lack of starter lube wouldn't end well, after all. And Sukuna was not the most patient man in the sack.

“See?” Sukuna crowed into your ear as his hand traveled south and a finger sunk into you. “It's not so bad to just behave, now is it?”

You already felt like you were about to explode, and Sukuna savoured It. He liked being the one to do this to you–the only one for a while, considering how tight and sensitive you were. Any little push or prod inside you brought sweet sighs and soft moans to the surface–and a second and third finger had your hips bucking and your nails digging into his shoulder and back as he finger-fucked you to oblivion while still caging you in.

“Good omega,” he cooed. “Gonna cum already, huh? Tch, you shoulda said no one’s been taking care of you; I would’ve taken my parental responsibilities more seriously.” His lips and teeth landed on your neck, as you curled up into him, body tensing, heels digging into the mattress, panting and gasping getting louder and faster. The sound made his pants strain even more.

“Fuck, you smell fucking good. Better than when I fucked you the first time.”

“I-I forgot you talked so much in bed,” you managed out. “Could you just–shut up?”

Sukuna growled, and you whined. “You want me to shut up, huh? You wanna listen to your slick fucking hole getting spread open, plowed into? You miss me that much, omega?”

“No.” You hissed and clung to his upper arm as he somehow managed to take it up a notch, slipping his fourth finger in and spreading you obscenely wide.

“I think you did. Think you were hopin’ I’d come around, plow you into the bed again, stuff you full like no one else can.”

“Sukuna–”

“I’ll fill this hole up all you want, baby–I’ll even stuff another pup in you. Twins. You want that, huh? You gonna be my omega from now on? Creaming on my cock ‘n fingers the way you shoulda been the day you walked your perfect, little ass into my life?”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” you choked on a gasp and bit into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with drool and shuddered mewls while your body tightened and ecstasy hit like the weight of Sukuna’s words–brutal, fast, honest.

Sukuna moaned in sympathy, ignoring the way his hand and arm cramped and ached to keep pistoning into you and draw out your high. He couldn't help it–something about you drove him mad in that moment. It could have been how you made his ego swell, it might've been the way his greed needed your slick staining his and only his skin, perhaps it could have been a quiet yearning coming from his lonely, hollow alpha. He didn't know. But he didn't question it.

Your body started to relax with the death grip you had on his shoulder as you came down from the sudden, electric high. Your hips still jolted with every slow, lazy push into your soft hole, though a haze of purring and cooing filled the spot where gasps and moans once did. Eventually, you melted off of him and collapsed onto your back, looking as content as a cat lounging in the sun.

“Oi, oi, you're not done yet, sweetheart.” But if you said you were done, he might've listened. Just that once.

You hummed something as you looked up at him, eyes doey and so egregiously lovey-dovey.

“That's a nice face. Make sure you save it just for me,” Sukuna gently commanded, and you laughed.

“Demanding. I thought you didn't like used goods.”

Sukuna scowled. “Shut up.” His free hand traced the stripes of stretched skin left in the wake of bearing his baby boy. “I like ‘em when they're used by me.”

“Does that really make them ‘used goods,’ then?” You murmured as if speaking logic too loud would break Sukuna's entranced obsession of you.

But maybe, maybe, you had a point.

“Guess I'll have to think on that.” His fingers slipped out of you and he gave you a wet slap on the ass to wake you up. Your subsequent squeak sure as hell woke Sukuna up.

“Ow. Gross.”

“I'm not finished with you, brat. Don't get too fuckin’ content, yeah?” He smirked when you glanced at his crotch expectantly. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

Sukuna sighed and settled between your legs as he futzed with his belt and button. “Could put up a bit of a fight.”

“Too tired.” You yawned and stretched with a pleased sigh. “No will to argue.”

The alpha leaned down to bite at your knee, and you pulled your legs together to avoid his chunky, rude fangs. You knew he'd delight in making you bleed or leaving dark bruises. He was the worst.

“Still got a little fight left in ya,” Sukuna said with a grin. “Let's see how much more we can find, hm?”

#male reader insert #sukuna x you #sukuna x m!reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #reader insert #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk smut #jjk x male reader #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #itadori sukuna x reader

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auroralwriting · 8 months ago

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your beauty never scared me

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

you’re scared no one will ever love and understand you, but spencer always has.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: a bit of unrequited love, comfort/angst/fluff, negative self thought, spencer is always a sweetheart, reader has a darker aesthetic

Maybe it was the fact that you came from a broken family from a young age. No, you didn't have a bad childhood, but it wasn't ideal for a young girl growing up.

It could have been the bad high school relationships, full of boys who didn't understand how to treat a young woman. Stuck at their stupid baseball games or waiting for them to finish their video game, sitting alone on their bed waiting for them to finish.

The most likely cause for your fear of love was simply the fear that no one would ever truly understand you, and therefore, never be able to love you right.

If you looked deeper, though, much further past the surface level, deep into the core, you would've realized that Spencer Reid had been there all along.

When you first joined the BAU, Spencer Reid was a typical little nerd, the glasses he wore even fulfilling the stereotype. His rambles about anything and everything were endearing, and lead you to begin your friendship with the man after he told you the history of your favorite movies.

"...its distinctive style with his signature blend of dark humor and whimsy. His imaginative vision, influenced by German Expressionism, is evident in the film’s surreal sets and exaggerated character designs. Burton’s decision to cast Michael Keaton as the chaotic title character and his encouragement of Keaton’s improvisation contributed to the film’s memorable, unpredictable energy. The innovative special effects and makeup, along with the creative set design by Bo Welch, further showcased Burton's unique approach."

By the end of his rant, Spencer had expected you to have been completely focused on anything else, but your eyes were trained on him, a small sparkle flickering in them.

"Spence, how do you know do much about Beetlejuice? You haven't even seen it before." you'd chuckled.

"I think Tim Burton is an interesting director. Maybe we could, uh, see it together sometime? If you want, of course." Spencer awkwardly fiddled with his fingers, the suggestion of the two of you hanging out outside of the work settle rattling his nerves.

You had given him a big smile, beneath your dark clothes and makeup was a heart of white and gold, a truly captivating soul. "I'd love to, Spencer! I own it, so you can come over whenever."

"Whenever sounds good," Spencer paused, thinking about what he had just said. "I mean, Thursday?"

"Thursday it is, boy genius." That name was usually reserved for making fun of Spencer, but the way you said it actually made his heart flutter.

Spencer would've never guessed that the girl, clad in dark clothing, the complete opposite of his own aesthetic, would be interested in hanging out with him. Then, it happened. And it happened again, and again, until you became friends.

Your friendship with the doctor grew. As you got closer, Spencer began to identify your fears and your tells. You played with your hair when you were nervous, bit the skin of your fingernails when you were anxious, tapped your foot or bounced your leg when you were impatient. He began to understand you on a deeper level.

It began to be the same for you. You knew his likes, dislikes, fears and worries. You understood his struggles with his mother and father, how sometimes this job didn't feel like enough until he made a true difference in someone's life.

Spencer Reid and you had connected in nearly a cosmic level, and that began to scare you.

It was two and a half years after Spencer had met you when he realized he had been falling in love with you for nearly a year. His small crush had grown exponentially. After Haley Hotchner's death, you'd taken in Jack for several days while Hotch planned the funeral and began to clean the house from the murders. Jack had taken to you quickly; he'd gone as far as to call you his favorite aunt.

Seeing the level of compassion and helpfulness you had displayed for Hotch made Spencer begin to realize that your friendship was beginning to move to the next level for him.

He began to think of you night and day, wondering what you were doing, how you were doing, what your plans were. He wanted to be with you, to feel your skin, linger in your existence. It wasn't until JJ had explained to him that that feeling he felt was love that he began to understand that you were in no place for him to admit his feelings.

Spencer never meant to profile anyone unless he was working, but he found it hard to not with you. He noticed your lack of dating, how even when you had the chance, you evaded it. He noticed your disdain to the notion of true love, or love at first sight, or even soulmates. It didn't take him long to piece together that it wasn't a hatred of love, no, it was a fear of it. However, he could never understand the why of the fear.

Now, you and Spencer had met five years ago. You'd both physically changed in looks over the time, but your friendship only remained and grew passionately stronger.

After the death of Emily, and finding out she didn't really die, Spencer had you as his rock. You grieved together, to the point that for three weeks, you lived with Spencer in his apartment. After you'd left, Spencer realized that he couldn't live without you anymore.

Spencer and you sat on his couch, the cold September month made you crave an early Halloween movie. So, Spencer put on his own copy of Beetlejuice he bought a few years back. The soft glow of the lamp cast warm shadows across the room, and the faint scent of popcorn lingered in the air. You could hear the distant hum of the city outside, blending with the soft rustling of the movie’s soundtrack.

"I like Adam and Barbara," Spencer hummed as he watched the screen. "They make a really good couple."

You nodded, "I guess they do,"

Spencer's brows furrowed at your words. "You don't sound convinced."

"I don't know," You shrugged, sitting up and crossing your legs. "He's sort of controlling over her. It's just too much, she's a strong woman."

"You mean he's protective over her in the afterlife filled with dead people they didn't even knew existed?" Spencer raised a brow, turning to you. "I'm pretty sure that's relatively normal."

Turning your attention back to the screen, you replied, "I guess so,"

Spencer sighed, finally deciding to ask you the question he'd been avoiding for too many years now. "Why are you so scared of love?"

His question made you turn back to him, a confused look on your face. "What?"

"You're so pessimistic about it. You always avoid dating, talking about it, anything to even do with love." Spencer explained. "I'm just curious, why?"

"Because, there is no way love that strong exists." You concluded, folding your arms over your chest. "That's why it's all in the movies. It's fake for a reason."

Spencer nearly chuckled at your words, finding himself in disbelief. Sure, he didn't really believe in soulmates, but he definitely believed in love. "Sure love exists," Spencer said. "True love has to come from somewhere to be spoken about. It's why its so deeply rooted into art and literature. Plus, with the psychological evidence of--"

"Okay, okay," You put your hands up in mock surrender. "I believe you, Spence." You'd never cut off one of his rants before.

"This bothers you," Spencer noted, his arms mocking your previous stance as they folded over his chest. "Why does this bother you so much, what aren't you telling me?"

You let out a huff of air in reply, your defences kicking into full gear. "Why do you care so much?"

Spencer stuttered over his words, “Uh- because it clearly affects you! It’s not hard to notice your dislike of it, and I want to know.” Spencer defended. He could see it in your eyes, though. You were too good of a profiler to not know he was lying through his teeth.

“The real reason?” You sharply replied, hating that Spencer was lying.

“Because I’m in love with you,” Spencer’s voice was filled with desperation. “Here you are, constantly belittling the idea of love when that’s all I want to give to you, and I don’t understand why.”

His words cut you like a knife. You hadn’t expected him to say that, let alone feel it. It almost made you feel guilty. “No one has ever understood me, Spencer. I don’t want to settle for just anyone who will pretend for their whole life that they know me when deep down they will never be able to understand who I am, what I need.”

“You think I don’t?” Spencer challenged. He tried not to feel offended at your words, truly. Yet they hit him like a slap to the face. He felt like he understood you.

“Okay, prove it then.”

Spencer was ready for this, “Your least favorite cases involve those with divorced parents. Not because of the affect on their children, but the affect it takes on them. You hate to see when it hurts one of them, or both.” Spencer’s first claim was true, and it caught you off guard. “You hate anything with a pumpkin scent, however, you enjoy real pumpkins because of their look rather than their scent. You bite your lip, tap your foot, shake your leg, all when you feel negatively.”

“Anyone could profile that,” You weakly replied, feeling thrown off at Spencer’s careful acknowledgment of your little tells.

“Are you afraid of love because no one will ever understand you, or because you’re scared you’ll never find someone who will.” Spencer finished. He watched as your mouth opened and closed, the words not quite making it out. “I see you, I hear you. My favorite thing is when you tell me things about yourself, your day, your feelings. Any day without you is a bad day and any day with you is a good one.”

Spencer’s words left your heart beating faster in your chest as you began to realize this is what you were looking for all along, but your own fear that you would never find it blind sighted you to the truth. The truth that Spencer Walter Reid was in love with you.

Spencer often recalled his own struggles with relationships, remembering the long hours he spent studying while his peers socialized. With him being so much younger, he had no way to truly connect with them. The sense of isolation he felt growing up made him cherish the connections he built later in life, driving him to seek genuine understanding and affection. On the other hand, your own problems with family and bad relationships drove you to hold a near-resentful feeling to love. It made you feel like it was something you could never have. That was something Spencer was beginning to see from your perspective.

"Please," Spencer's voice was softer, more vulnerable as his eyes pleaded with you. "say something."

"I'm sorry," you breathed. For a moment, Spencer thought you were about to reject him, until he saw the glistening tears form in your eyes. "I-I should've known sooner."

Spencer nearly chuckled, "I didn't want to make it too obvious."

"Spencer?" you asked.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Why do you love me?"

Your question made his heart nearly crack at the raw fragility your tone held. All he wanted to do was to take you into his arms and sing you sweet nothings until you believed him, but right now that wasn't an option. "I love you because you're unapologetically you," Spencer's reply made you finally lock eyes with him. "You're so sweet and kind, you never try to hide the things you like and dislike. You're so bold and brave. You make me feel so alive, so wanted. Every moment with you is a reminder of how extraordinary it is to be around someone who radiates such genuine warmth and enthusiasm."

"You really love me?" Your voice felt meek in comparison to how your normal assertiveness and bravato sounded. Your heart felt three times bigger in your chest as a tear dared to slip down your cheek.

Before it could even leave your eye, Spencer brought his sleeve over his hand and soaked it up gently with the cuff. "I love you with every part of me."

"I think I want to love you, too." you admitted. It felt hard to say those words, to finally give into your darkest, most vulnerable desire of unwavering love.

"Even with your fears, you're beautiful." Spencer softly reached to graze your cheek. "This, your fears, nothing could ever scare me. I'll teach you to let me love you if I need to."

"That better be a promise," you slightly chuckled, holding your pinky out to the man.

Spencer smiled, locking his pinky with your own, "It's a promise."

As you held Spencer’s pinky in your own, a sense of peace settled over you. The weight of your fears began to lift, replaced by a tentative hope. "Maybe love isn’t as impossible for me as I thought," You whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. Spencer’s smile was both a promise and a comfort, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in your lives.

#spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #bau team #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid angst #spencer reid comfort

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vole-mon-amour · 7 months ago

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I reached the maximum amount of tags and I want to be able to tag for my blog so some of the tags' info:

Played as a Nomad be cause I heard it was supposed to be 'canon'. It was alright but it was definitely not my path.

Replaying Cyberpunk as Nomad, for a complete story feel before going back to playing as Corpo. I just love the dialogue choices but both Street Kid and Nomad have been surprising as well.

I do want to know what is the first choice?

Bonus what’s your favorite life path choice? 😎

Life path 1st choice:

#I love corpo V but the corpo that shits on corps #Hanako? fuck her and her brother. fuck her father especially.#it annoys me how corpo V goes in awe upon seeing his engram #Johnny Silverhand sends his regards you fucker 🖕#street kids would've been way better if V knew Rogue and Jackie since she was raised by the streets and mercs #I'm sad because my nomad V has everything legendary #I literally cleared out the entire map with a nomad #way before they introduced PL and infinite missions #so now I kinda can't play as her because of her being a nomad? unless I want to use mods to change her life path?#plus I have a very clear idea of her now #I would absolutely romanced her with Kerry (and I tried to kiss him but got the rejection)#so I had to go with Judy #but these days she's besties with Johnny and Kerry #I can imagine romancing her with Johnny but not with Kerry. not anymore.#so I'm sad about it #if I want an actual Kerry/Johnny romance I gotta stick with my other (corpo) V #I tried the street kid but so many logical options are missing that I just can't stick with it #corpo setting and ita beauty is everything to me <3 #even though as you get to the ending the replies get ridiculous #again. like I said. fuck those corps. my V would absolutely die for Johnny.#and would absolutely shoot those corpos #goro and the corpo shit he says? fuck that #so I think my mentality is in between streetkid and corpo #corpos for aesthetic and the beginning of the game #and streetkid because they're free and know a lot about the city #but I can't BELIEVE she doesn't know rogue and Jackie/her mom. what kind of a streetkid are you!!#devs really messed that one up #cb2077 #natisplaying #polls

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bobohu4eva · 11 months ago

Text

Hitched (M)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: arranged marriage au, acquaintances(?) to lovers, smut

Summary: Can great sex make an unwanted marriage less shitty? Yes. Yes it can.

Warnings: explicit unprotected sex, semi public (outdoor) sex, edging, Baekhyun has a Big Dick, alcohol consumption

WC: 9.8k apparently I don't know how to keep things brief anymore!

A/N: The majority of this is extremely self-indulgent smut. Oops? You're welcome? It is (mostly) pretty soft though.

Masterlist

“Smile!”

The cameras flashed, and you put on a show for your friends and family. Your new husband kissed you, and from the outside, everything seemed perfect.

The perfect dress, makeup, hair, a rich and handsome groom, and everyone you cared about right there with you, celebrating you and the man who was supposed to be the love of your life. It was a lavish ceremony and even more opulent reception, but you couldn't enjoy it at all.

There was nothing wrong with him, but you and Baekhyun had never even dated, and you definitely never pictured yourself marrying him. You didn't exactly have any reason to dislike him, you'd known him since you were a kid and he was undoubtedly an attractive guy, but marrying him had been your parents idea, not yours.

As a kid your family had everything you could've imagined, foreign sports cars, numerous vacation homes, a yacht, nannies, tutors, and the list goes on. Your parents' companies had been doing well, and life was easy.

But that didn't last forever. Now in your early 20’s, you watched as the fortune your family had built for generations was slipping away.

You were still a teenager when it started and couldn’t fully comprehend what had happened, but it seemed like some combination of bad investments and unpaid debts. Slowly the vacation homes, yacht, and cars were sold off one by one just to pay the bills. As the years passed it seemed that the walls were starting to close in, but on the surface your family, especially your mother, made sure it didn't seem that way.

The good family name was pretty much all that was left now, and your mother would do anything she could to keep it strong.

Growing up with generational wealth, your family always associated with others of similar standing, and one of the families you'd grown up with had been particularly close; the Byuns.

Their only son, Baekhyun, was someone you'd grown up around, but at seven years older than you, you hardly knew each other. He was the perfect rich kid, smart, handsome, and polite, but you still would've much preferred to marry someone you actually loved, or at least were close with.

“Y/n, you're doing it again.” He whispered in your ear, and you realized that your smile had once again fallen as you zoned out, and his mother was right there in front of you, looking concerned.

You perked back up, and saw her face flood with relief. You looked at Baekhyun, and he was still smiling for the pictures as well, but you noticed the slightly apologetic look he shot you.

You really did try to play the part, for the sake of your families, but it was hard. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life, but instead you were putting on an act, hiding how miserable you felt under the facade of it all.

The worst part was just how happy both his and your families were. Both moms cried, and even your dad teared up a little. You couldn't even blame them, either. It had been a beautiful ceremony, and you and him both looked the part so perfectly. It was everything a high society wedding should be, and on top of that, it was the only thing saving your family from bankruptcy.

Once pictures were done with it was time for the first dance- in a gazebo decorated with fairy lights and at least a thousand fresh white roses. All you could think was how incredible this would have been, if it was a real wedding, between two people who actually loved each other. Every beautiful thing was a cruel reminder of how you would never get to experience that for yourself.

Baekhyun did a better job than you, and if you hadn't been so depressed, you might've even gotten flustered a few times. He looked incredibly handsome in his tux, smiling sweetly at you as he led you through the dance, a painfully romantic song filling the spring air. He was the picture perfect groom.

You so badly wanted to hate him for agreeing to all of it, but knew it was more complicated than that. Despite not knowing him very well, you did know how close knit his family was. If his parents really wanted him to do this, he would have a tough time refusing.

You were closer with his parents than you had ever been with him, and they adored you. Despite not being related, you almost thought of them like your own aunt and uncle. Baekhyun, on the other hand, was like your mysterious older cousin. He always seemed preoccupied with his studies, or later, his job. You'd been around each other at holidays and various parties throughout the years, but he never felt approachable.

To act so romantically with him felt unbelievably strange. On top of your disappointment at the whole situation it was also just very awkward. The kissing and touching, the dancing, the “loving” looks you shared, they all made your chest feel tight. Baekhyun was obviously very handsome, but the nature behind all of it still got to you.

Before the wedding Baekhyun had asked you if you would rather not kiss or touch at all, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you'd assured him that it was fine. Aside from the parents and those closest to you both, most of the guests had no idea this wedding had been arranged just a few months earlier. If this was going to be believable, you had to make it look real.

Eventually the dancing ended and the reception began, relieved beyond belief to finally get to have a drink. The champagne made things much easier, and as distant friends and family asked you and your new husband about your love story, you lied with increasing confidence. Baekhyun, too, was leaning into the act more heavily after a few drinks. His arm around you and the way he looked at you made everyone oooh and ahhh, giving them the same story you'd told minutes earlier, about how the two of you realized one day that all of those years you'd been hiding your love for each other, and when you realized that the other felt the same, you couldn't marry quickly enough.

It was all bullshit of course, but they ate it up, and that was the important thing. You didn't want to think about how embarrassing it would be if an acquaintance or extended family member found out your parents had orchestrated everything.

Several times people gushed about how lucky the two of you were to have found each other. The bitterness you felt was so intense you hoped dearly that they couldn’t see right through your smile.

The relief you felt when the guests finally started to clear out, leaving the lavish ballroom for their hotel rooms, was monumental. Eventually the last of them were gone, and since both families insisted, you and Baekhyun retreated to your shared suite.

Both you and him knew that your families were hoping for a grand baby soon, but that wasn't something you could even consider at the moment.

“I don't mind sleeping on the couch.” He told you once you were alone with him.

As nice as the room was, it didn't make sense for him to sleep on the couch. The bed was huge, and the couches weren't long enough for him to fully lay down. You shook your head.

“Are you sure?”

You smiled a little at his sweetness, “There's plenty of space for both of us, don't worry about it.”

And so you and Baekhyun shared the bed on your first night together as husband and wife. You stayed on your side, and he stayed on his, not once touching, even a little.

It was expected that eventually you and him would buy a house together and live there, but in the meantime, you stayed at that suite together. His parents owned it, and they hoped that living together would help spark something real, not to mention sharing a bed.

Life after marriage wasn't that different, aside from your living space. You didn't have a job yet, having only graduated college a few months earlier, so you spent much of your time out with friends. As nice as the suite was, it reminded you of your loveless marriage, so you took every chance you could to get away. Baekhyun mostly just worked, keeping to himself, although he always asked you about your day when you’d get home. To his disappointment you kept your responses short. He wanted to try and get to know you better, but you didn't seem interested.

The truth was, every time you saw him and he tried to talk to you, it made you feel worse. He did absolutely nothing wrong, but he, like the suite, was a painful reminder of your unfortunate fate. The result was you essentially avoiding him, even in your shared space. Baekhyun, however, wasn’t willing to live that way.

A few weeks passed with hardly any words exchanged between you and him, so he decided to try something different. That evening when you returned to the suite, you were met with a generous dinner spread, the entire room meticulously decorated, and your husband sitting at the center of it all, looking at you bashfully in the candle light.

You were surprised, to say the least.

He noticed the way you froze up, getting up from the table and taking one hand, guiding you to the table. He pulled out your chair for you, leading you to sit.

Soon Baekhyun was seated across from you, looking back at you with a slightly unnerving intensity.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked.

He took a deep breath, “I want to try to make this work.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I can tell how much you hate being married to me, and I’m sorry. I think we should at least try to make the best of it, though.”

“Make the best of it?”

“Well, yes. I mean it could be worse, right? Am I really that bad?”

You sighed, annoyance taking hold at his nonchalant attitude. “No, Baekhyun, that's not the point, this whole situation just… sucks. Maybe it's stupid but I always thought I'd marry someone I was actually in love with, and it would be one of the best moments of my life. Instead I’m married to someone I barely even know.”

“I'm sorry, and I know how you feel, I really do. But don't you think we should at least try to get along?”

After a week of keeping your discontent to yourself, it came bubbling up and you no longer bothered to hide how you felt from him. You let it out, finally letting out what had been plaguing your mind since the wedding.

“Every time I see your face or even this suite for that matter, it makes me feel like shit. I really didn’t want this, and I don’t understand how you seem so unbothered. I mean, are you really not that upset about all this? Why did you agree to it so quickly?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice either, you know how my parents are. A couple years ago when I still wasn't in a serious relationship of any kind they started floating the idea of setting me up with someone. Your name got mentioned a lot, so I've had more time to come to terms with it, I suppose.”

You scoffed, “So you've known for years that this would happen?”

“Well, no. It was always just a suggestion, until a few months ago when they told me that they discussed it with your parents and actually wanted to go through with it.”

Not sure what else to say, you shifted your focus to the plate of food before you, and he did the same. An awkward silence filled the dining room, though you still preferred the silence to his rationalizing of your miserable arrangement. Much to your dismay, however, it wasn’t long until he was again doing just that.

“A lot of our parents' friends started out like this too, you know. To be fair most of them at least got to date for a while before getting married, but they’re happy now, so why shouldn’t we be able to do the same?”

He wasn’t wrong, this kind of thing wasn’t exactly rare, though you still hadn’t planned to turn out that way yourself. Still, you just stared back at him with a look of annoyance.

“What I really wanted to talk to you about, the reason I made this dinner for us, I thought maybe, if you would be interested, we could go on a honeymoon. I know that wasn't originally part of the plan, but I think it could be good for us. Anywhere you want to go, I'll make it happen.”

His offer was extremely generous, but still didn’t exactly sound appealing. Being alone with him for days on end wasn’t your idea of fun, you worried that it would even become quite depressing, not to mention awkward.

“I don't know….”

“It can be as long or short as you like, and if you decide you hate being around me that much you can come back here anytime. You're my wife now, and I want to be able to make you happy, to make this whole thing work out for us. If there's anything I can do to help us get there, I’ll do it, whatever it takes.”

When he put it like that, it was hard to argue with him.

“Anywhere I want? And you’ll really fly me back if I don’t like it?”

He nodded, “I promise.”

Though you still had your doubts, you reluctantly agreed. A couple days later you were packing your bags, flying first class to Switzerland, where you'd stay for two weeks at one of his family's vacation homes in the mountains near Lucerne.

Baekhyun grinned when you told him you wanted to go somewhere with mountains, “excellent choice.”

The flight had been surprisingly nice. You’d expected that Baekhyun’s family would fly first class, but you were still surprised by just how nice the Swiss airline he’d booked was. You and him essentially had an entire bedroom, and while it was spacious for a plane, that was the closest you’d ever been to him in bed before. Maybe it was just hormones and general touch depravity, but you were all too aware of the way he occasionally brushed up against you as he slept.

When you finally arrived at the house you'd call home for the next couple weeks, walking into the main living area, you understood his excitement at your choice to stay in the mountains. It was nothing short of breathtaking.

The house itself was beautiful, modern, and impeccably decorated, but you'd seen plenty of nice houses. It was the view that made it so special. The sprawling green valley surrounded by snow capped mountains looked like something out of a fairy tale.

“My wife has awesome taste.” He said, not missing the way you grimaced, cringing at the word ‘wife’.

“It still feels super weird hearing you say that.”

You kept your eyes fixated on the view, and after a moment he was taking your hand and leading you into the master bedroom. Inside on a small table stood a bottle of champagne as well as two glasses, and beyond the sliding glass doors you could see the patio, fit with a hot tub and infinity pool. The king sized bed stood at the center of the room, covered in rose petals.

You let out a short exhale of a laugh, mostly in disbelief at the sight in front of you.

“Not bad right?”

“Oh God, you really are trying to make me fall in love with you. Rose petals and everything…”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I don't think two weeks is long enough to fall in love, but if you did, that would be great. I guess the staff went a little crazy with the romance since my parents told them this is our honeymoon.”

He opened the bottle of champagne, pouring each of you a glass and handing one to you. God knows you needed it.

“Cheers.” You clinked the glasses together, each taking a sip. “By the way, I can sleep in one of the other bedrooms, if you'd prefer that. I know the rose petals on the bed are a little much.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, but it looked like he was blushing ever so slightly as he said it.

Your immediate reaction was relief, that you'd get your own room, but then again that wasn't why you'd traveled all this way together. You were used to sleeping in the same bed with him by now anyway, so you shook your head, hoping you wouldn’t end up regretting it.

A long sigh passed your lips.“You didn't take me here for us to sit in different rooms all day, we can do that back at home.”

There was a faint smile on his lips and he nodded, cheeks still a little pink. You both knew what your families were hoping would happen in that bed, and you couldn't help but blush a little as well. For a second you wondered if you and him would ever get that far. He was perfectly fuckable, in theory, but the nature of your arrangement sucked all the excitement out of it for you.

It was still early in the day, and once the champagne glasses were empty Baekhyun called a car to take the two of you into town.

“You already seem less bummed out than you've been the last few weeks.” He commented as you headed into the city.

“Yeah, don’t get me wrong, I’m still sad about everything, but you're right. It's better to at least try to make this work out. I'm trying to be optimistic.”

He was smiling again, and you couldn't deny how gorgeous the sight of it was. He reached for one of your hands, giving it a light squeeze, holding it for the rest of the car ride, and then again as you walked through the streets together, window shopping.

The city of Lucerne really was like a fairy tale. The old buildings, the crystal blue lake, and the mountains in the distance were the perfectly romantic setting for your time with him. In front of that amazing backdrop, he truly looked like a prince.

As sad and angry as you'd been the past month, now that your hand was in his, on this beautiful honeymoon, just enjoying the scenery, you couldn’t find the energy to harbor any resentment towards him. Although you still had a lot to learn about each other, you realized you could enjoy his company more than you expected. Either that, or it was just hard to be mad when you were in such a lovely place.

You'd been walking together in comfortable silence for a while, just appreciating the city, when he told you, “If you see something you like, tell me and we can go inside for you to try it on.”

As nice as it was, you knew you weren't actually going to go inside any of those shops. They were all high end designer outlets, the kinds of places you hadn't been to since your family was actually doing well.

Baekhyun saw the way you shook your head, turning your eyes to the pavement in front of you. You felt him abruptly stop, your hand still in his.

“What?”

“Now that we're married, you don't need to worry about all of that anymore. Your family wasn't so insistent on you marrying me just so that they could finally pay off their debts, you know. They want a better life for you, too.”

“Yeah well they have a funny way of showing it.” You mumbled, not even trying to hide the bitterness in your voice.

“Did you tell them you didn’t want to get married?”

You scoffed, because of course you didn’t, and he should know that. You gave him a bit of a bitchy side eye and he seemed to get your point.

“They know I would’ve much rather chosen my husband myself. But I wasn’t really given a choice, just like you.”

He mustered up a surprisingly sympathetic look, sitting you down with him on a nearby bench.

“I’m not saying this to call you ungrateful, really, but I think we should remember how lucky we are. Because of our parents we got the best educations, grew up in nice homes, get to travel the world, and so on. Money isn't something we'll ever have to worry about. When they asked me to marry you, I didn’t fight them, because I know how much they’ve done for me.”

You understood perfectly where he was coming from. However, despite it all, you still couldn't deny your disappointment.

“I know it would've been selfish to refuse, and of course I am grateful to be this fortunate. That doesn't make it feel any less shitty, though. I always had such big dreams for how I would meet the love of my life and get married, and they know that. When they told me I should marry you, they knew it would be heartbreaking for me, they just didn't seem to care. They didn't even want to acknowledge it.”

“I'm sorry. I can imagine how hard that would be, I want you to know that I don't blame you at all for being upset. I just want to do whatever I can now to hopefully make this better for you.”

When you didn’t respond his hand was pulling you back up with him, “Come on, there’s a really great ice cream place nearby.”

He was relieved to finally see you smile again, even though you rolled your eyes at him. “I’m not a little kid, you can’t manipulate me with ice cream.”

“I’m not manipulating you! I just want to cheer you up.”

At least the ice cream really was fantastic.

Eventually you returned to the house, deciding to finish the champagne in the pool together, enjoying the view. You'd seen Baekhyun shirtless in the past, but it had been years, and you couldn't deny how great he looked as he joined you in the water, holding both of your glasses of bubbly.

The mountain air was chilly on your upper half, and you sunk deeper into the warm water as he handed you your champagne. Steam rose from the water into the cold air creating a wispy fog, the sun barely peeking out from behind the mountains as it set.

You said cheers, clinking the glasses together, giving Baekhyun a funny look at how intently he insisted on making eye contact before bringing his glass up to meet yours.

“You know why Germans are so insistent on eye contact when cheersing right?” He asked before taking his first sip.

“No..?”

His eyes widened ever so slightly, surprised, to say the least.

“Oh… uhh, never mind.”

“No, tell me!”

This time, he was definitely blushing, “Ok but don't get mad at me! I was joking… I didn't think I'd have to explain it..”

“So..?”

He sighed, ready for you to scoff at his lame attempt at flirting with you. “In Germany, it's said that if you don't make eye contact while cheersing with someone, you'll have seven years of bad sex.”

To his surprise, you actually let out a small laugh, again meeting his eyes and holding his gaze intently as you clinked your glass to his one more time.

It had to be the atmosphere, both of you barely clothed in your swimsuits, the alcohol, the sunset, and the view of the mountains. That had to be it, that had to be why you were going along with everything he said so easily. Because at the end of the day, you both knew well what he was implying. He was your husband, and you his wife. Unless you both planned on cheating, which to your understanding still wasn’t acceptable despite the nature of the marriage, he would be the only one you'd be having sex with anytime soon.

You kept slowly sipping on your drink, enjoying the calmness and beauty of the landscape. This time, the silence between him and yourself actually felt comfortable.

“Do you really think that it's possible for us to eventually be happy, like any other married couple? You know as if we'd actually chosen this for ourselves?” You eventually asked.

“Yeah, I definitely think it's possible.”

“You really mean that?”

He shrugged, and nodded. “I don't want this to sound too forward, but that's part of why I wasn't too upset about the marriage. I would've liked to marry someone I chose myself, just like you, but in our situation I think we still have a good chance at making it work. Even though we've never been particularly close, I feel like I know you fairly well, because of our families. I know that we had similar upbringings, share the same basic values, things like that, and those things really matter in a partnership. You're beautiful too, which definitely helps.”

“Thank you… I've never really thought about it like that.”

‘You’re beautiful.’ Those words had a greater effect on you than you expected.

His eyes had been fixed on the sun setting over the mountains, but slowly he turned back towards you. “Do you find me attractive, at least physically?”

His sudden question left you dumbfounded. The answer was so obvious but the way he asked you truly didn't sound cocky at all. You had to stop yourself from making a dumb joke considering his abs were currently glistening in the light of the setting sun and his face looked like something out of a magazine.

“Baekhyun, you know you're a good looking guy.”

“Well, some women are more into big muscles, or really tall guys, or a more rugged “manly” look. I could still not be your type.”

You shook your head, feeling the way your cheeks burned, knowing they were probably bright red. You kept your eyes glued on the valley below, avoiding the way you knew he was looking at you. “You definitely are my type, at least when it comes to looks.”

You expected him to say something cocky and smug but instead he just smiled at you when you finally met his gaze again, seeming genuinely happy and relieved by your answer.

“I appreciate that.”

It occurred to you then that despite the champagne, his words and eyes on you made you quite shy. He was simply an extremely handsome guy, and you found yourself having to fight the urge to downright ogle him.

His broad shoulders and strong chest looked so inviting, the water on his skin adding a gorgeous sheen to his entire form. You wanted to touch him, to feel his skin against your own, and know how his slender hands would feel on your body.

The view of the mountains was nice, but as the minutes flew by, your eyes kept traveling back to him. It didn't go unnoticed, as he felt himself slipping into similar thoughts as well.

Maybe you really were just that easy to read, but it surprised you nonetheless when he stepped closer, taking your hand in his, before placing it on his chest.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Your eyes were stuck to his torso, heart beating rapidly at the knowledge of his eyes gazing down at you, his heartbeat under your hand a comforting reminder of the shared tension. His gentle touch on your chin triggered a small gasp, and he finally guided your face up towards his own where he could look at you, and you at him.

Being so close now, you noticed the scattered moles painting little constellations across his face. Each one appeared to have been placed with purpose, further adding to the near perfect harmony of his stunning features.

When his eyes shifted downwards ever so slightly, gaze falling to your lips, you stopped breathing. You could smell him, so sweet and inviting, every minute aspect of his presence pulling you in.

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyes bore into your own again, and you could feel the magnetism between you both. All you gave him was a small nod, but that was enough, his lips meeting yours.

This was so different, so much better than when you'd kissed before at your wedding. His chest under your palm felt warm and firm, the taste and smell of him surrounding you, easily letting you melt into him. His lips were soft, and the lack of clothing, the feel of his wet skin against your own, made you shiver despite the hot pool.

Growing increasingly overwhelmed, you pulled away, red faced and genuinely a little embarrassed to have given into him so quickly. You quickly grabbed your glass and downed the rest of your champagne.

Baekhyun, however, saw right through you. He gave you a knowing smirk, he knew you were still skeptical of him and the marriage, but that didn't mean you weren't attracted to each other. Being half naked in a pool with a view definitely helped set the mood, too.

“What? There's no reason to get shy now.”

Still, you turned away from him, bracing both hands on the edge of the pool as you fixed your eyes back onto the mountains and valley below.

“Hm? What's wrong?”

His breath on the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine, surprised by the proximity. Gently, he brushed your hair aside, giving himself access to whisper in your ear.

“As odd as it might feel to be married, as husband and wife, there's no use in denying that we're attracted to each other.”

He didn't miss the way you whimpered when his lips gently grazed the sensitive skin just below your ear, turning your head to grant him more access.

He took that as his sign to continue, leaving a trail of kisses along the side of your neck, his lips growing bolder as the minutes passed. Soon he was sucking and biting at the spot on your neck that made your knees weak, and his hands slowly came to rest on your hips, leaving you every chance to stop him, but you did no such thing.

Maybe it was just how pent up you were after not having sex for so long, and barely even having an opportunity to touch yourself, but you found yourself squeezing your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache that was starting to form between them.

When one of his hands left your hip, instead coming to your jaw, turning your head to grant him access to kiss you again, you easily let him. The kiss was nothing sweet, desperate and hungry as you both fought for dominance, though Baekhyun quickly took the upper hand, not that you minded.

“Can I touch you?” He asked the second your lips parted.

“You are touching me.”

“That's not what I mean.”

His hand moved slowly down the front of your body, the soft touch making your head spin, until his delicate fingers began to play with the waistband of your bikini.

He resumed the movement of his lips on your neck, soon coming to whisper in your ear, “May I?”

You nodded, breath shaking, and let out a soft moan when his fingers finally pushed beneath the wet fabric. His first touch against your clit sent a jolt through you, and you didn't miss his soft chuckle before pressing his lips against you for the nth time.

The way he nibbled and sucked at the skin of your neck combined with the soft circles his fingers made on your clit, were nothing short or euphoric. You leaned back into his chest, quiet moans and whimpers filling the air. Being touched like this from behind had always been a big turn on for you. He already made you feel so weak under his touch.

Baekhyun was obsessed with all of the delicate sounds escaping your lips, sounds that proved how much you were enjoying what he did to you. The more he listened, the more he felt himself grow needy for more.

A breath got stuck in your throat when he pushed his hips forward, letting you feel his hardness against your ass. Even through his swim trunks, you could tell he was big.

With his cock pressed to your ass and his fingers moving perfectly between your thighs, you were already losing any rationality you’d once possessed. When his other hand untied the knot of your top and began to tease your nipples, you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about how exposed you were, outside in the open. You knew you would be pushed over the edge sooner rather than later if he kept it up, and he did.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” He whispered in your ear, the smirk on his lips apparent in his voice.

You nodded frantically, warmth bubbling up inside you, turning into a searing heat.

“Good girl, let go, I got you.”

His fingertips slipped across your clit just right, one hand pinching and twisting the sensitive nub on your chest. Your whimpers grew into delighted moans, the craving for even more growing almost unbearable. The promise of eventually having his length inside you was what pushed you over the edge, shaking and twitching in Baekhyun's arms as you fell.

“Fuck.” He whispered into the crook of your neck. “You're really sexy, you know that? Can't wait to be inside you.”

The combination of his words and breath against your heated skin prolonged your pleasure, nodding to show him just how badly you wanted him, too.

As soon as his hand withdrew from between your legs you turned towards him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss. It was messy, desperate, communicating the urgent need you both felt for more. His tongue greedily licked into your mouth before biting your lip, coaxing another weak moan from you. His hand on your thigh quickly had you wrapping both around him, and the feel of his substantial length and girth against your center, even through your bathing suits, left you panting, desperate for more.

He put some pressure on you, pushing you against the edge of the pool, letting you feel even more of him.

“Do you wanna go inside?” He whispered into your ear between kisses, but you didn't have the patience for that.

You shook your head, “just fuck me right here.”

His cocky smirk somehow had even more moisture flowing out of you, “as you wish.”

With that, he undid the string of your bikini, and pushed down his shorts.

You reached for him, intimidated by the size, hoping you would even be able to handle him. He was hot and hard in your hand, and you felt the telltale throb of his own arousal.

Anticipation hung thick in the air as he positioned himself, his tip nudging against your clit, and you swore you were about to lose your goddamn mind.

“You ready?” He questioned with an unexpected softness, forehead resting against your own.

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Baekhyun, please.”

As soon as he pushed forward, however, you understood his desire to double check. His size presented quite the challenge, your eyes squeezing shut at the discomfort of being stretched so much. He could sense how you struggled to take him, hands digging into the skin of his back, legs squeezing involuntarily around his hips.

“Fuck you're so big.”

“Just relax, I'll go slow. Tell me if it’s too much.” He said before pressing another kiss to your lips.

You couldn't remember ever feeling so full, and he was still only halfway in. Slow, shallow thrusts carefully let you get used to him, going deeper with every roll of his hips. Soon tears pricked at your eyes, the new sensation of being fucked by such a huge cock leaving you awstruck.

When he finally fit himself all the way inside of you, his hips meeting your own, you felt his head pressing firmly against your cervix. The slight pain of it heightened the already intense moment even further.

“Oh my God.”

He pulled almost all the way out, sinking himself all the way back inside, and you swore he had to have the best cock you’d ever fucked, by a mile. Any unpleasant thoughts surrounding your marriage to him were long gone as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust pulling gasps of pleasure from you.

The water splashed wildly around you but you might as well have forgotten it was even there, too overcome with Baekhyun’s length as it pleased you in ways you never knew possible. The way he filled you so completely was unlike anything you’d experienced with another man, blissed out by his incredible size and precise thrusts.

“You’re so perfect, take me so fucking well.”

His lips crashed into yours, hot and greedy as you moaned into one another. You were certain you’d never felt anyone that deep inside you before, and it was addictive.

“Think you can handle more?” He muttered, now that you’d gotten fully acclimated to his substantial length and girth.

You nodded, greedy for anything and everything he could give, and Baekhyun wasn’t going to deny you.

His lips swallowed more moans and cries of delight as he picked up the pace, thrusting harder, faster, feeling you clench down on him as you got closer to your release.

Every time he sunk into you completely, he felt your body tremble in response to the intense sensations. As much as you wanted to keep your eyes open to look at him, you simply couldn't. The force with which he pounded you and how deep he reached left you an incoherent mess. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, desperate whimpers and whines leaving your parted lips.

“Will my beautiful wife let me feel her cum on my cock? Hm?”

Frantically, you nodded. With only a few more pumps into your dripping core he made you cum, so hard that you just about forgot your own name.

Baekhyun let out a deep groan at how tightly you squeezed him when you came, the pulsating of your orgasming pussy bringing him to his peak soon after. His hips fell out of pace, eventually slowing to a stop as he emptied his cum deep inside.

It wasn't until you slowly started drifting back to reality that you realized you were still outside in the pool with him.

You continued to cling to him, feeling him gradually soften and slip out of you. When his eyes found your own you both stared, panting, basking in the afterglow.

You finally stood back on your own two feet, leaned back against the edge of the pool, and couldn’t fight the fit of laughter that came over you.

Baekhyun stared at you, confused, unnerved, and slightly bewildered at your sudden outburst.

“Jesus fucking Christ Byun! That might be the best sex I’ve ever had. No, it definitely was. I can’t believe you...”

A relieved sigh escaped him, grinning at your admission. “Go on. I’d love to hear all your thoughts.”

“Oh shut up you don’t need any more ego stroking with a dick like that.”

He leaned in closer, bracing both hands on the edge of the pool at your sides. “Well you’ll be happy to know that this dick is all yours, till death do us part.”

A genuine smile graced your lips, and this time as you looked at him, your new husband, you actually felt a little excited for what your future with him could hold.

You leaned in, giving him a quick kiss. “It's only day one and you already succeeded at seducing me. I have to admit I feel a little pathetic.”

“I didn’t seduce you.”

“Oh yes you did! You got me half naked and drunk and started kissing my neck. That has to count.”

“You only had one glass of champagne and we're in a pool, what else would we wear?!”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay fine, but you still seduced me. Not that I mind, that was fucking incredible. I hope no one saw us, though.”

Baekhyun just shrugged. “I doubt it, but if they did, we put on a pretty good show.” he smirked.

“You’re unbelievable.” You laughed, enjoying the way he admired you.

“I asked if you wanted to go inside, but someone was too impatient.”

“You’re awful cocky, you know that?”

Again, he shrugged, moving away from you to find his glass of champagne. He finished it, and since it was getting late, you both finally decided to get to bed. This time, the rose petals just made you giggle. Once you'd both settled in, you even found yourself inching closer to him, until one of his arms pulled you closer, wrapping around you. It was easy to fall asleep like that, in his embrace.

The first night in a new bed was usually pretty rough, and the jet lag didn’t help. When you awoke in the early morning, you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep.

Baekhyun had detached himself from you at some point during the night, the blanket bunching up around his waist. He seemed to still be resting peacefully, and you shamelessly enjoyed the view of his bare chest and sleeping face. Everything about him was just so gorgeous, it didn’t really make sense to you how you’d ended up with him like this. You’d been so pissed about the marriage for so long, but now a small smile crept to your lips as you watched him, his chest slowly rising and falling with every breath.

You turned to fully face him, shifting around for a bit before settling into a comfortable position. From that point of view you could enjoy the profile of his face as he slept, taken with the seemingly perfect outlines of his jaw, nose, and lips.

Minutes passed, dragging on painfully slow, and the sight in front of you definitely didn't help you get back to sleep. Images from your time in the pool with him kept resurfacing, along with the memory of how incredible he'd made you feel. You couldn’t understand how you hadn’t always wanted to touch him, even when he was more of a stranger to you. He was way too attractive to just ignore, you thought. Every cell in your body seemed to gravitate towards him, now that touching him was allowed, and even welcomed, holding yourself back was nearly torturous.

You and him could nap during the day. Right now, you needed him to wake up.

Carefully, you moved closer, molding your body to his, leaning in to press your lips to his neck. He stirred a bit, but didn’t wake up, so you went on to plant more kisses, moving down towards his chest. When you gently sucked on his collarbone, his eyes finally fluttered open.

Much to your delight, he didn’t question your actions, or why you’d woken him up. He just took hold of your waist, pulling you on top of him, and into a kiss. You ended up straddling him, lips still locked as they moved together lazily.

“Goodmorning,” He hummed, looking around at the dark bedroom. “Awake already? What time is it?”

“Four? Five? I don't know.”

“Why'd you wake me up?” He half groaned, half whined, voice rough due to the early hour.

Instead of replying, you just kissed him again, kissing down to his jaw, then neck, moving your hips a little to make your intentions clear.

“Ready for round two? Already?”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled, “Why don't you make me?”

You moved to bring your lips to his once more, but he stopped you, one finger pressing to your lips before they could make contact. You pouted.

“I have an even better idea.”

“Oh yeah?”

A mischievous grin lifted his cheeks so prettily.

“Sit on my face.”

You froze, “Huh?”

“You heard me. C’mere”

He hoisted you up, eliciting a small shriek from you, but you didn’t let him take you all the way up the bed, instead settling atop in chest.

“Are you serious?”

“Hmm I’m a hungry boy. Now come here.”

His hands on your ass attempted to push you further up towards his face, but you stayed put.

“I still have underwear on, dummy.”

He looked down, narrowing his eyes when he spotted the lace that was, in fact, covering you.

“Do you like this pair?”

“Kinda? They’re a little old I guess, why do you-”

Before you could finish his hands were taking hold of the flimsy fabric, easily ripping it and tossing it to the side.

“Baekhyun! Are you out of your mind? Why-”

He cut you off again, hoisting you up by your ass till your thighs were on either side of his head.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll buy you new ones.”

With that his arms circled your thighs, pulling you down, until your center met his hot tongue.

You inhaled sharply, bracing your hands against the wall as he licked and prodded at your clit. It was soft, teasing, wanting to warm you up before showing you what he was really capable of. When you would start to whine and plead for more, he would pull away entirely, instead leaving kisses on your inner thighs, letting the anticipation grow until it was nearly unbearable.

Until then you'd still been hovering, not wanting to smother him, but when you once again began to whimper and ask for more, he told you, “I’ll give you what you want if you just sit.”

“But-”

Without giving you a chance to protest his strong arms, still wrapped around your thighs, yanked you down roughly. At last you got the kind of pressure you needed, putting some weight on him, no longer caring if he could breathe or not. His hums of pleasure made it clear that either way, he was enjoying this as much as you were.

He lapped at your clit with greed, happily drinking you in. Every gasp, sigh, and groan he drew from you egged him on, eagerly awaiting your release, wanting nothing more than the taste of your delight flooding his tongue. When he transitioned from mere licking to sucking your bud past his lips, he felt your thighs shake, gripping them so tightly you almost wondered if it could bruise. In your ecstasy, however, there was no place for such thoughts. You were too preoccupied with your building orgasm.

His fingers earlier in the pool had been fantastic, but his tongue and lips were on a whole new level entirely. The way the warm muscle flicked at your most sensitive spot was absolutely perfect, and when combined with the suction of his lips, you almost couldn’t handle it. He could tell you were getting close when you began to rock your hips against his tongue, silently begging for even more, and he was eager to deliver.

He picked up the pace, suckling harder, licking faster, and he reveled in the increased volume of your moans as you got lost in it. When the moans were silenced, replaced instead with sharp gasps, he knew you were on the precipice. He didn’t falter, if anything, he gave you even more.

Seconds later you fell apart, twitching and shaking while he still didn’t stop, the sensation flooding your body with relief and joy until it slowly became too much. Baekhyun still had a firm hold of your thighs, and he moaned with delight at the taste of your orgasm on his tongue. He kept lapping at your tired pussy, not wanting to let a single drop go to waste, until you basically begged him for a break.

When his hold on your thighs finally weakened, you sat back, your ass landing on his chest eliciting a grunt from him. You looked down at your husband's face and he was beaming, lips and chin still wet with your arousal. You grinned right back, watching as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

Again, all you could do was laugh, and this time he happily joined you.

“You know, I really hadn't expected all of this to happen on our first night here.” You told him.

“Neither did I.”

He was still smiling up at you, now just watching, admiring you, and when he still didn't look away after several seconds had passed you started to feel shy.

You rolled off of him, one arm covering your eyes as you basked in the unexpected comfort of the moment. Eventually you felt him move your arm away and his face was hovering above your own, slowly moving closer until he was kissing you. It was slow, relaxed, just enjoying the closeness as you gradually recovered from the heated moment.

You felt him shift, realizing that he was adjusting himself beneath his silk pajama pants, and your hand followed. His eyes fluttered shut when you palmed him, and he took the hint, discarding the shirt you still wore before stripping himself.

Wet lips met the sensitive skin of your neck as he positioned himself between your thighs, the heat and weight of him above you somehow making your heart race even more. His fingers entered you first, stretching you out to get you ready to take him. He started with two, soon adding a third as he leaned up slightly, watching your flushed form squirm and whimper beneath him. It was a sight that didn’t help his patience one bit, throbbing as he thought about getting to be inside you again so soon.

It wasn’t long until Baekhyun assumed you were ready, that or he just didn’t want to wait any longer. Both of his hands found yours, lacing them together and pressing them to the bed above your head. His eyes were on yours, dark with lust as you felt him push inside, the stretch again making you wince, though you easily powered through, too enticed by what was to come to even consider stopping him. He rocked into you, getting deeper with each push, until he was burying himself into you entirely with each roll of his hips.

This time, he was slower, savoring the way your tight walls hugged him, in contrast to the frenzied passion of the evening prior. You sighed gratefully each time he hit that spot inside you, appreciating the unhurried pace he set as he continued to thrust. Your previous orgasm left you especially sensitive, and you seemed to be floating on a cloud of pure bliss while he steadily fucked you, the euphoria of it reaching even greater hights than before.

His size was one thing, but Baekhyun was also just good. He knew how to angle himself to make you feel just right, keeping a steady pace to allow the pleasure to build.

“You feel amazing, so tight and wet for me.” He whispered into your ear, and your knuckles paled with how hard you gripped his hands.

Normally faster, rougher sex was what you preferred, but now, with him, you couldn’t help but think that this slower, more relaxed approach was even better. Maybe it was because it was so early, and you were still a little tired, but this felt nothing short of perfect. Baekhyun was taking care of you so well, listening to your body, and giving exactly what you needed.

Your orgasm was getting close again, warmth growing into a burning heat in the pit of your stomach, but as soon as you started to clench around him, about to let go, he pulled out.

He chuckled softly at the way you whined in protest, but assured you, “Just trust me, this will be even better.”

He stood on his knees and straddled one of your thighs, bringing the other leg over his shoulder before pushing back in. With the same leisurely pace from earlier he continued on, the new angle making you feel him even deeper.

When you started to whimper and ask for him to go faster, he just shushed you, pushing his hips into you slower, but harder, leaving you with little room to protest. Either way, it was divine, and you knew he’d easily get you there in the end. After a while you decide that whatever he had in mind, you would happily accept it. He made you feel so damn good, you trusted him to take you however he saw fit.

His thrusts were steady, letting you chase your orgasm, but when you started to get close he pulled out again, leaving you shaking and whining and clenching around nothing.

One hand came to rest on your cheek and his forehead met your own, prompting you to open your eyes and meet his. He stared for a second before pressing a quick kiss to your lips and whispering, “Turn around for me baby.”

You obliged, rolling onto your stomach, and you felt him straddle you, leaning down to leave a trail of kisses along your shoulder. Without any warning he filled you once again, and this time when he bottomed out, the increased pressure against your cervix made your stomach tighten, the pain almost too much for you.

His moans and grunts made it clear that he, too, felt the added pressure, making sure not to press too hard, to be gentle as he continued working his way in and out, his eyes fixed to the view of your ass and his length plunging in and out of you. Every time he sank himself inside completely he felt the way his tip would reach the bottom, savoring the feeling while doing his best to not hurt you in any real way.

Little did he know, you enjoyed the intensity of it, and your high was approaching even quicker than before. He’d been edging you for so long, all you cared about was getting your release. He could’ve fucked you as fast and hard as he wanted and the pain still wouldn’t have stopped you from cumming all over his length.

But Baekhyun was cautious nonetheless, filling you in the same relaxed manner, wanting you to feel as good as possible, to prolong your pleasure, without bringing it to an end just yet. He, too, was enjoying himself far too much to rush this.

However he soon felt the same tell-tale throb that your orgasm was quickly approaching, so he pulled out once again.

Once he’d turned you over, settling back between your thighs, he took in your fucked out expression, eyes softening at just how desperate you looked.

“Does my baby want to cum?”

You nodded, frantic. “Please, Baekhyun.”

He placed a tender kiss to your lips, then your forehead, before pushing forwards to fill you up. This time as he kept moving you could feel the difference, and you knew he was getting close to his own release. His thrusts were less consistent, and he became shaky, gasping and moaning more freely than before.

For you it came as a relief, knowing that it wouldn’t be long until you finally got your long awaited high. You weren’t sure how much more you could take, more than ready for him to finally just fuck you through your orgasm, and let you feel his release, too.

The push and stretch of his length inside you, the angle of it, and his entirety surrounding you, the heat and weight and smell of him, they all became too much. When he finally let you reach your peak it was strong, blinding you and making your skin tingle with the intensity. Every time he’d denied you he’d built the tension to such a degree that when it was finally released, it was otherworldly. Broken versions of his name passed your lips, though you weren’t conscious of it, the wave of pleasure leaving no room for coherent thought, only gratitude for the incredible feeling after having been deprived.

He didn’t stop when he felt the obvious pulsating and twitching of your orgasm, he continued to chase his own high, which came soon after. He’d been holding himself back, so when it finally hit him, the burst of euphoria was explosive. As he shuddered apart his lips crashed into yours, hungry and rough as they sought greater contact, something to communicate how much it affected him.

The kisses became more relaxed as you both slowly drifted back to reality, until he finally collapsed on top of you, burying himself in the crook of your neck. Gently kisses were peppered across your skin, each one paired with some sweet words, “So beautiful, so perfect, so good for me.”

After some time his weight above you lost its charm, turning sweaty and uncomfortable prompting him to roll off you, though you still desired some contact. Your head rested atop his chest, and the feeling of his hand on your waist was a welcome comfort.

Something about this just felt right to you. Your marriage to him, now, came as more of a relief than anything else. You knew that after having him, nobody else would ever be able to compare. As sure as you’d been that the jet lag would keep you up until daylight, his embrace ended up luring you into a peaceful sleep in mere minutes.

As it turned out, your honeymoon ended up being a beautiful experience full of gorgeous scenery, plentiful laughter, and amazing sex. Most days were spent strolling through town, enjoying the spa and pool at the house, and in bed with your new husband.

He was fun, maybe a little cocky, but you couldn't blame him for that, everything considered. At the end of the day, he was always sweet to you, and never acted truly arrogant in any way. Confident, that was how you would describe him, and that confidence came as a comfort for you. He was confident in himself, yes, but he also showed a lot of confidence and optimism towards his relationship with you.

The initial awkwardness disappeared completely after your encounter in the pool. The sex had been great, but more importantly, it brought your guard down. You quickly became far more comfortable around him, and as the days passed, he started to feel like a genuine friend. A friend, who also gave you the best sex of your life.

While it may have still been early in the relationship, by the time you were flying back home with him, you felt confident, too.

You'd make it work with Baekhyun, your new husband.

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun fic #exo smut #exo fic #baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #kpop smut

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arilevenatz · 4 months ago

Text

You are

Pairing: pirate!jongho x town girl!reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 9.6k

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, abuse (not done by the boys) minor character death, jongho is a shy baby, lmk if I missed any!!

AN: I feel like screaming. This has been in my drafts for more than a year when the 'Everything' MV came out. The MV broke me and I was a crying mess. If y'all couldn't tell, my bias is jongho and I have seen that there are not that many good jongho fics in any platform. So I have taken the initiative. (Even tho idk if it's good or not) Anyway if y'all wanna be tagged just reply with your @ . AND please reblog and like it helps me a lot. I kinda fucked up the ending so y'all are free to imagine whatever the fuck y'all want

Nassau, an island which was claimed by the crew of Halazia. The ship was giant and very beautiful as well.

One slight issue,

It's a pirate ship

The pirates of the Halazia are the most feared of them all. They are known for not having any mercy towards any ship they come across.

Yes, even the ones with a white flag.

But Nassau is an island which is owned by them, so it is common for the people living near the harbor to see them come and go.

I, however lived further in the town, so I have never really seen them. Not that I want to as well. I'm scared they might kill me.

Though I doubt that will happen cause they have never really killed any innocent here in Nassau. Not that I've heard that is.

Waking was hard. Going to greet the family was harder. Answering their dumb questions was the hardest.

They say the youngest kid is always the most loved of them all. Not in our case.

We are big on family. And the worst part? We all live in the same plot, but in different houses. Me, being the youngest child in the house, I'm a personal punching bag.

Stuffs like "your brothers are doing so good, you need to follow them aswell" and "your brothers and sister have taken majors in science, you will too I hope" were normal to me.

Ever since I was young, my mom taught me.

If you wanna live in this house without getting called out every time, you have to fake a smile. Please everyone, child. Because of your father, you have to please everyone.

That was then, but now she has changed. She was forced to do so by these monsters in the name of people. I kinda miss her…

I heard my name being called. Looking at the source I saw my mom.

"I know you just woke up but, can you go to the port market and get us some things?"

"Mom, I just woke up..."

"Listen to your mom kid"

I looked at the source, great, my other aunt. Blinded by the pride of marrying a rich doctor, she thinks she is the head of the family, although she is the youngest sibling of my dad.

"yes yes, she will go, won't you kid?" her eyes pleaded to me, not wanting her child to be scolded in the morning.

"yes ma"

I took the money and left.

Being the youngest, I was always called "kid" or "child". It's weird I know, but i don't even care anymore.

The market's a bit far. I have to cross a little outskirt of a jungle. Though I don't have to cross the jungle, it's still a bit scary. But it's dawn, so it's alright right now.

After the jungle, a little walk by some alleyways and then it's the market!

The market was one of my favorite places to be in. Just look at it! It's so lively and colourful. It's so nice that it can make me forget about home for some time.

Ok let's check the list of items. Chili powder, parsley, biscuits and rum.

Hah! That stupid uncle of mine! How can he make a young girl like me buy alcohol early in the morning?!

I eventually got all the supplies and also got the rum. The shopkeeper was my dad's and uncles's friend so he gave me the rum I wanted, but I doubt he would've if he didn't know me. I mean come on, who gives alcohol to a young girl?!

"That will be ten bronze kid"

I handed him the money when suddenly I heard a high pitched laugh

"jongho, at least try to bargain once in your life! Do you or do you not want to save money??"

Looking in the direction, I saw two men. One has black hair, the other one has black and white hair.

What a strange hair colour...aren't his parents dissapointed?

Both of them are dressed in big tunics and black leather pants. The tunics loosely tucked in their pants.

"shopkeeper-nim, can we get this rum?"

The oreo guy handed the shopkeeper a note, seemingly a list.

"No mates, the last one was taken by this lady here"

He pointed at me. Damn dawg why you gotta throw me under the bus?

It was now when the two men looked at me.

"Aren't you too young to drink?"

"Land Ahoy!!!!"

The booming voice of the first mate who is also the quarter master, can be heard from below the deck. He had just spotted an island. Their island,

Nassau.

Beautiful island, with beautiful people and beautiful owners.

hehe

"Mingi, drop the anchor!"

"done!"

"captain, we need to scavenge", the quartermaster and first mate of Halazia, Seonghwa stated to their captain, the one and only, Hongjoong.

"I'm aware. Is the scavenger team ready?"

"I have already concerned Wooyoung, him and his team are ready to go"

"Good"

"Captain!"

The captain and quartermaster flinched by the voice of the surgeon.

"San! You unruly swine! What if the the captain got scared and let go of the helm?!", the quartermaster scolded the younger guy.

"Seonghwa do you mean that I get scared by small things?"

The two of the other males in the room nodded.

"all of you are scared cats"

"Bitch-"

All three males in the room flinch by the sudden intruder.

"Yunho, do you want me to order Yeosang to cut of your hair in your sleep?"

"Captain it was a joke!!"

"Anyways, captain, I came here to inform you that Mingi needs materials to fix the ship, however, he has work to do, so someone has to go on land with Wooyoung to get the supplies", San, the surgeon states.

The captain has now successfully ported the ship and now can let go of the helm. He turned to his crew and told them to follow him. And he went towards the maindeck.

"Send Jongho. He does not have any work for the time being"

"ok!"

San sprinted away almost in a comical way while muttering something which sounded suspiciously like a "smooth operator~"

The battlemaster was in the arms locker. The giant locker was home to weapons for the battlemaster as well as guns for the master gunner, Yunho.

The battlemaster, Jongho, was busy cleaning his swords. Call him a clean freak but he needs to clean all his swords and cutlasses. Not because he is a clean freak, it's cuz a certain someone will scold him if he does not.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

"San are you a child?"

The first mate gets inside the locker and sits beside the younger male.

"I am not, but I know a certain someone is though"

"You swine"

The crew of the Halazia is known as the scariest crew outside, but inside the ship, they all are one braincell sharing idiots.

"Anyways, captain ordered you to do to port and get some stuff with wooyoung-ie" The younger boy looked at the first mate with his boba eyes. "what stuff?"

"mingi needs some stuff to repair the broken and probably for his new invention and shit"

"Ok then”

“meat, coriander, honey, alcohol and maybe some broccoli for the soups"

"Wooyoung, why do you need alcohol? Are you gonna drink again?"

The cook of Halazia, wooyoung and the young battlemaster, jongho are set out for an adventure, an adventure to find the specific kind of alcohol for the surgeon of the ship, San.

"What? No! I am getting it because Sanie asked me to!

This morning, San had barged in the kitchen and asked wooyoung to get a special kind of rum, which helps to clean cuts.

Yeah the young boys have no idea how to find it…

"aren't you too young to drink?" jongho asked the girl they just came across in the shop.

The girl didn't say anything and just stayed silent.

"jongho-ya you scared the poor girl"

"No I did no-"

"you can have it"

Both the males looked at the young girl. She has her hand out and in her hand resides the rum bottle.

"You can have it"

"No no we ca-" jongho was cut of by wooyoung. "sure we'll take it! How much was it again?"

"ten bronze"

Wooyoung handed the girl ten bronze and was about to take off, but jongho held him back feeling guilty. I mean come on, the girl probably had her own hardships buying it, and then she got harassed by his hyung.

The younger guy went and handed 5 more bronze. The girl merely looked at his hand confused.

"sorry, he is just immature"

The girl however still remained silent and immobile.

Jongho waited a few seconds and then took the girl's hand and placed the coins there.

"thank you and...Sorry"

The girl looked at the coins and then looked at him. And then she said "I don't need these extra coins, but in return, you both have to go and buy the alcohol for me”

They do it for the girl. The two men are now inside another store, away from the previous. This store is the only other store which sells alcohol here in the port market. But the owner of this shop doesn't know your dad or uncle, so he will not give alcohol to her as she's a girl. So she cleverly asked the two men to go inside and buy it for her.

Wooyoung hands you the additional bottle of rum with a dramatic flourish, a smirk on his face. "Here you go, little one. Consider this our way of helping you out." He smiles at me, while Jongho looks on, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

You look at him giving you two bottles when you asked for one. “I only needed one tho.....”

"We added one more. Consider it a gift from us. Just... don't tell anyone we did this, alright? We'd be in real trouble if anyone knew” Wooyoung said as he put the bottles in your bag properly. You nod at him slightly.

Wooyoung smiles slightly at your nod "Smart girl. And hey... what's your name? I'm wooyoung, that's jongho. Seems like Nassau's been tough on you, hasn't it? If you ever need anything else-"

jongho slightly nudges him to stop and get back to work. He gently pushes Wooyoung aside before he can offer any more unsolicited kindness to the girl. The last thing they need right now is rumors spreading about us befriending locals.

Jongho shoots Wooyoung a warning look before turning his attention back to you "Remember what we said - keep quiet about this. And stay out of trouble, yeah? Nassau's not safe for little ones like you-" he catches himself realizing how condescending that sounded "-Like-”

“Little ones?” You were offended. You hated when someone called you little. It triggered you so much. You family calling you ‘kid’, ‘child’ was enough, you don't need these two weirdos calling you little.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly "You know what I mean. Young. Innocent. Uninvolved in pirate life. Just... be careful, alright? We don't want anything happening to anyone”

You wanted to ask why they were so interested in pirate life but they were already turning back.

As Wooyoung and him walk away, jongho can't shake the feeling that he has made things awkward between them and the girl. He glances back over his shoulder, noticing her standing there, holding the extra bottle of rum like a precious treasure. "Woo, did you see that?”

Wooyoung follows his gaze, a thoughtful expression on his face "Aye, I did. She's a tough one, ain't she? For a little thing, she's got guts." He pauses, then adds in a lower tone

"And she's got a way of getting under your skin, too. Mark my words, Jongho - that girl's going to cause us trouble one day." He chuckles to himself, but there's a hint of seriousness beneath his words.

"Let's just hope it's the good kind of trouble.”

Back in the ship, the surgeon, San runs up to them, asking them what took them so long. Woo replied "we had to fight a little girl for the last bottle of rum”. San raises a concerned eyebrow.

“In what world do ‘little girl' and ‘rum’ co-operate in one sentence? That sounds highly inappropriate”

Jongho sighs and shakes his head disapprovingly at Wooyoung's exaggeration. "Don't go spreading tales now. We weren't fighting anyone." He glances at San with weary eyes. "Just... ran into a stubborn lady on an errand.”

San raises an eyebrow skeptically, but his lips twitch in amusement. "'Stubborn lady,' huh? Sounds like someone's been distracted by pretty eyes and a cute face." He teasingly pokes Jongho in the ribs.

Wooyoung covered his mouth with his hands dramatically and replied "no wonder he was not cold but gentle towards the girl. I knew you had it in you!”

Jongho rolls his eyes, trying to maintain his composure despite San's teasing. "Shut it, San. It's not like that. We just didn't want any trouble, that's all." He shoots Wooyoung a warning look, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut.

But it was true, he felt that those eyes held sadness. He has seen war, he has been in dilemmas and has fought with his inner urges. He knows what loneliness looks like. and he saw that in those girl's dull eyes. He stands on the deck watching the sunset paint the sky in fiery hues, but he can't help but replay the encounter with the girl in his mind. The ache in her eyes, the defiance in her stance - it echoes the battles he's fought within himself.

He remembers the way the girl stood her ground, refusing to back down even when faced with two grown pirates.

As the captain, Hongjoong managed more than just his crew; he also oversaw a network of loan sharks. These were the people he trusted with his money, providing them the means to distribute loans in exchange for a share of the profits. Now, it was time to settle. A meeting with the loan sharks of Nassau was pending, and Hongjoong intended to reclaim what was rightfully his.

Rather than meeting on neutral ground, Hongjoong and Seonghwa decided to summon the loan sharks to their ship. It was a calculated move, one that ensured the meeting would take place on their terms and under their control. (Hot men)

The captain’s quarters were cold and dark, the flickering lantern casting shadows across Hongjoong’s features. Seonghwa stood by the door, arms crossed and expression hard, his presence as commanding as the captain’s. The loan sharks shifted uneasily before them, knowing this was not a meeting to be taken lightly.

The lead shark hesitated before speaking, his voice shaking slightly. “Captain, there’s been… a complication.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, his eyes cold “A complication?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “Explain.”

“A man we loaned money to—he fled,” the shark stammered. “Disappeared without paying a single coin. He left behind his wife and daughter in Nassau.”

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. “And you let him run?”

“We didn’t know he would,” the shark blurted out, his words tumbling over each other. “He seemed reliable, Captain. A merchant with steady work. But one day, he was gone, just like that.”

“And the family?” Seonghwa cut in, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

“They’re still in Nassau,” the shark admitted. “The wife claims she doesn’t know where he went, and they’ve got nothing left. No way to repay the debt.”

Hongjoong’s gaze darkened. “You mean to tell me you came here with excuses, no money, and no solutions?”

The shark shrank back, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Captain, we—we thought we could pressure the wife. Maybe—” He hesitated, but Hongjoong’s glare pushed him to continue. “Maybe take their belongings or… use them to draw him out.”

The room fell silent. Seonghwa stepped forward, his voice like steel. “Use them?” he echoed, his lips curling into a cold smirk knowing what his captain will suggest next, “You’re suggesting we drag a woman and her child into this mess because you couldn’t do your job?”

The shark flinched, his voice barely a whisper. “It was just an idea.”

Hongjoong stood, the sudden movement making the shark jump. He leaned across the table, his voice venomous. “Ideas like that will get you killed. You don’t lay a hand on them unless I give the order. Do you understand me?”

The shark nodded frantically, his face pale. “Y-Yes, Captain.”

“But you will go back,” Hongjoong continued, his tone playful but colder now. “You will visit the wife, and you will remind her that the debt doesn’t disappear just because her husband ran. Make sure she understands this is her last chance to cooperate. If she knows where he is, she had better start talking.”

“And if she doesn’t?” the shark asked hesitantly.

Seonghwa’s smirk widened, but his eyes remained icy. “Then you make it clear what happens when people cross Captain Hongjoong. Let her know the weight of the debt will fall heavier if her husband doesn’t show his face soon.”

Hongjoong straightened, his eyes burning into the shark’s. “You don’t come back empty-handed again. Bring me the man, or bring me something of equal value. Do I make myself clear?”

The sharks nodded in unison, fear etched into their faces.

“Good,” Hongjoong said curtly. “Now get out of my sight.”

As the door slammed shut behind them, Seonghwa glanced at the captain. “You think the wife knows something?"

“If she does, fear will make her speak,” Hongjoong replied coldly. “And if she doesn’t, it’ll push the coward into the open. Either way, we get what we’re owed.”

He thinks for a second and then says “ you know what, I don't trust these parasites. Send a mule after them, give me every detail of what they do from now on”

The shark’s anger simmered as he stormed through the winding streets of Nassau. Hongjoong’s threats still echoed in his ears, and his humiliation burned deep. To him, the blame lay squarely with the woman and her child.

“They’ve made fools of us,” growled the shark, his fists clenched. “It’s her fault the captain’s breathing down our necks. If we can’t touch them, we’ll make sure she understands what it means to cross us.”

When he reached the small house with two of his acquaintances, they found it quiet and dimly lit. The lead shark pounded on the door with enough force to make the frame rattle. After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing the wife. Her face paled when she saw the sharks, but she held her ground.

“What do you want now?” she asked, her voice strong but trembling.

The lead shark sneered, pushing the door open wider. “Your lies have caused us enough trouble. We’re done playing games.”

She took a step back, clutching the edge of the door. “I’ve told you everything I know. My husband is gone. I can’t give you what I don’t have.”

Another shark, a burly man with a cruel glint in his eye, stepped forward. “Your daughter—where is she?”

“She’s not here,” the wife said quickly, fear flashing across her face. “She’s out.”

The lead shark smirked, leaning closer. “Good. That makes this easier.”

Before the wife could react, the sharks forced their way inside. She stumbled back, panic flooding her as they loomed over her.

“You’re coming with us,” the lead shark said coldly.

“You can’t do this,” she stammered, her voice breaking. “We’re not hurting you,” the burly shark replied with a twisted grin. “We’re just taking you somewhere else to have a little… conversation.”

Despite her protests, they grabbed her arms and dragged her out of the house, their grip firm but not brutal. She screamed and struggled, but no one was there as they hauled her through the streets and into the shadows of Nassau.

____

You push open the door to your house, expecting the usual comfort of your mother's voice or the warmth of a home filled with the scent of a meal being prepared. But instead, there was silence.

“Mom?” you call out, your voice echoing slightly. You set down the basket of bread and vegetables, but there’s no answer. The quiet stretches on, oppressive, like something’s wrong.

You move through the house, checking the rooms one by one, but it’s empty. There’s no sign of her. Panic starts to creep into your chest, tightening with each passing moment.

As you were looking, you felt someone cover your mouth in a vise-like grip as you trie to claw at him. His thick mustache curls upwards in a cruel sneer. "And what do we have here? The little birdie come back to her nest?”

You try hard to free yourself.

“You think you can run from us?” he sneered, shoving you forward with enough force to stumble you. “You and your mother have been causing enough trouble, little girl. But don’t worry, we’ll make sure you both learn your place soon enough.”

You kick his knees and manage to break free. Just as you reach for the door handle, a large hand cracks across your face, sending you stumbling down. Pain explodes across your cheek and you fall to the floor, dazed and crying. The man looms over you, his fist raised for another blow. "You little brat!”

"Stop!" The lead shark's voice barks out sharply, staying in the second man's hand mid-air. Through your terrified tears, you see him approaching you, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor.

“We don’t need more bruises on this pretty little face yet,” he says, his voice almost… amused. His hand lifts, but instead of striking, he just touches the side of your face, his fingers cold and rough against your skin.

You wince, instinctively trying to pull away, but his grip tightens, holding you in place. “Listen closely, little bird,” he continues, his voice dark and low. “We need you to understand something. Your father’s debt? It’s a problem. And we’re not leaving here until we get our money back.”

Your stomach churns at the mention of your father. You try to keep your voice steady, but it cracks. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Yeah, we know,” he replies with a dry laugh, his grip loosening just a little. “Your father’s a coward. He runs and leaves you two behind to clean up his mess.” He leans down, his face just inches from yours. “But that doesn’t matter. Captain Hongjoong’s been clear. We take what’s ours. And you?” His smirk widens. “You’re gonna help us make that happen.”

His words make your blood run cold. Hongjoong. You’d heard of him—his name was spoken with fear and respect, but never this way. They’re using your family as leverage, a pawn in their game, all because of your father’s debt.

“They need you to make sure your father gets the message,” the lead shark continues, standing back up, pacing slowly around you like a predator. “We can’t hurt you… yet. But we’re going to make sure you’re a reminder. Captain Hongjoong is waiting for results. And if that means bringing you along to make your father see reason, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Hongjoong sat in his quarters, staring at the report he had just received from the mule. His eyes narrowed as the words settled in. The sharks had gone against his direct orders, overstepping their boundaries, and now he had to deal with the consequences. The anger bubbled inside him, a sharp, cold rage that left no room for hesitation.

He stood up, the weight of his frustration pressing on him. He couldn’t allow anyone to defy him, especially not when it came to matters as serious as this. The sharks had been sent to handle the situation, to get back the money they were owed—but they’d taken it too far. Taking the girl and her mother? That wasn’t part of the deal.

Seonghwa, who had been standing nearby, watching his captain closely, didn’t need to ask what was wrong. He’d seen this side of Hongjoong before—when his calm, controlled demeanor slipped, and the storm beneath came to the surface.

“Prepare Jongho and Yunho,” Hongjoong said, his voice low but filled with authority. “I want them to investigate. I want to know exactly what those sharks did, and I want them to fix this. I’ll have no one undermining my orders.”

Seonghwa nodded, turning to leave, but Hongjoong stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Make sure it’s handled quietly,” Hongjoong added, his gaze steely. “We don’t need any more attention than we already have. And if they’ve done something unforgivable… make sure they know who’s in charge.”

Jongho, the Battle Master, was known for his strength and discipline. He’d follow orders without hesitation, but it was his ability to keep a level head in intense situations that Hongjoong trusted most. Yunho, the Master Gunner, had a sharp eye for details and a quick wit. Together with a few loyal crew members, they’d get to the bottom of this—and if the sharks had crossed a line, they’d deal with it swiftly.

Jongho and Yunho stood by the edge of the ship, the salty breeze tugging at their hair as they discussed their next move.

Yunho crossed his arms, leaning against the railing. “So, we’re going to investigate what those sharks did… and if they’ve really messed up, we’re supposed to clean up their mess?” He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jongho, standing beside him, shook his head with a chuckle. “Seems like it. I don’t think Captain Hongjoong’s happy that they went rogue. Taking the girl and her mother? That’s a whole new level of stupid.” He sighed, glancing out at the horizon.

“I mean, we’re talking about a bunch of thugs who can’t follow orders. What’s next? Are they going to steal the moon?”

Yunho snorted. “If they tried, I’d pay good money to see it. But seriously, jongho, this is a mess. We’ve got to figure out how to handle this without making it worse. The last thing we need is a full-blown war with the sharks because they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

Jongho chuckled darkly. “Yeah, because Hongjoong’s ‘fixing problems quietly’ approach works out so well, right?” He paused. “Let’s just hope these sharks haven’t completely pissed him off. I don’t think even we could smooth things over if he’s really that angry.”

He then grinned. “I’ll make sure to bring some extra bandages, just in case.”

Yunho shot him a sideways glance. “What, you think we’re going to knock some sense into them with our fists?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jongho replied, giving him a smile. “Though, I prefer it when the problem just gets solved with a good ol' conversation. You know, like ‘Hey, don’t take the girl, or I’ll break your legs.’”

Yunho let out a dry laugh. “Sounds like a great ‘conversation’ to me.”

He then smirked at jongho and said, “But you know, I’m always ready to put some holes in bastards. Let’s get to work.” (See what I did there? ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠° )

The air was thick with tension as Jongho and Yunho made their way to the den. They had gathered all the intel they needed and were now ready to end this. The sharp tang of saltwater in the air mixed with the musty, oppressive smell of the building, and Jongho’s grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.

“You ready?” Yunho asked, his voice low, scanning the area.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Jongho replied, his tone steadier than he felt. They moved quickly, slipping through the shadows toward the back entrance of the den. The door creaked open under Jongho’s steady push, and they silently entered.

Jongho and Yunho moved like shadows, circling around the room, eyes scanning for the girl. The moment their eyes met, Jongho felt his heart stop. There she was—tied to a chair, her head lowered. Her breathing was shallow, and her hands were bound tight, but she was alive. She looked up at him, her eyes widening.

Jongho felt his chest tighten. He was shocked. Not because this was her. The same girl he had seen in the market, and now here she was, in the middle of this chaos, helpless. But because he still remembered her vividly. He has never remembered anyone's face other than ill intent. This made his heart do something he didn't like.

He was about to rush forward when Yunho grabbed his arm. “Stay focused,” Yunho muttered, his eyes scanning the sharks. “We’ll get her, but we need to take them down first.”

Jongho nodded, his heart racing. He knew Yunho was right—they couldn’t let their guard down. The sharks were too dangerous, and they had to be neutralized quickly.

In one fluid motion, Yunho drew his gun and fired, sending one of the sharks crashing to the ground. The noise startled the rest of the men, and chaos erupted. Jongho lunged forward, his sword cutting through the air with precision. Each swing was met with resistance, but he wasn’t slowing down.

The fight was quick but brutal, the room filled with the sounds of swords clashing and bodies hitting the ground. Jongho’s eyes searched the girl, and as soon as the last shark was down, he rushed to her side.

“Hold on,” he said, his voice softer now, as he cut through her ropes. She winced slightly as he freed her wrists, but she didn’t say a word—her eyes were locked on him, full of both fear and relief.

“You’re safe now,” Jongho said, his heart pounding as he helped her to her feet. But as he looked down at her, his heart skipped a beat. Her face was streaked with dried tears and blood, she had a busted lip and a bloodied injury on the side of her head. He realized then that this wasn’t just about the mission anymore. There was something about her that tugged at him, something deeper than just a rescue.

She looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. “Who are you?”

Jongho smiled softly, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions flooding through him. “Jongho. Battle Master on Captain Hongjoong’s ship.”

Her eyes flickered with recognition. “You… you were at the market.” She hesitated, her voice uncertain. “You… you’re a pirate? Of the Halazia”

Jongho nodded, his heart tightening. “We’re here to get you out of this mess. But right now, we need to move fast.”

She looked around, “But my mom-”

“Yunho will take care of that”

Before she could respond, they heard footsteps approaching. Yunho’s voice was low and urgent. “Jongho, we’ve got to go, now!”

Jongho took her hand gently, pulling her toward the door. As they ran, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his heart had just made a decision he wasn’t sure he was ready for. He had come here to do a job, to rescue her and get out. But somewhere in that chaotic moment, he realized he wanted to protect her.

The door slammed open, and they ran out into the night. Behind them, the sounds of pursuit echoed, but Jongho didn’t care. He would protect her. No matter what it took.

You settled back into the familiarity of home, the creaking of the old wooden floors and the comforting hum of the market outside grounding you after the chaos of recent events. Life was quiet again, though a bit lonelier now. Your mother busied herself with building a shop, leaving you to wander between chores and stolen moments of peace.

Life aboard the ship was as chaotic as ever, but lately, the crew had found a new source of amusement—or annoyance, depending on who you asked.

“Jongho, will you sit down already?” Seonghwa groaned, throwing an exasperated glance at the younger man pacing the deck.

Jongho ignored him, his brow furrowed in thought as he muttered to himself. “I haven’t checked in on her in over a week. What if something’s happened? What if someone’s bothering her again?”

“Again with the girl,” Yunho drawled, leaning lazily against a barrel. “You’ve mentioned her three times today already. You’re worse than Hongjoong’s parrot.”

“Worse than his parrot?” Yeosang, the navigator, asked as he descended from the helm, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Now that’s saying something. I didn’t think anyone could top its constant squawking.”

“Maybe the parrot’s jealous,” Mingi, the boatswain, chimed in as he carried a coil of rope over his shoulder. He dropped it near the mast and turned to Jongho, his grin matching Yeosang’s. “Sounds like it’s got competition for Jongho’s attention.”

Hongjoong, seated at a small table nearby, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He sipped his drink with a smirk, clearly enjoying the rare sight of Jongho being the center of everyone’s teasing. "I didn't even take my money from her for you"

"captain aren't you like one of the richest people in the 7 seas?" Someone grumbled.

“It’s not like that,” Jongho said firmly, shooting Yunho a glare before turning to Yeosang and Mingi. “She’s been through enough already. Someone has to make sure she’s alright.”

“Someone?” San chimed in, his grin wide. “Or you?”

“Let’s be real,” Wooyoung added with a dramatic sigh. “You don’t just want to make sure she’s safe. You’re attached. Admit it.”

“Sounds like attachment to me,” Yeosang agreed, leaning against the railing with an amused expression. “You’re practically obsessing.”

“I wouldn’t call it obsession,” Mingi said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “It’s more like…” He paused for dramatic effect, his grin widening.

“Infatuation.”

Jongho stopped pacing long enough to shoot them all a sharp look. “I’m doing my job. Protecting her is my responsibility.”

“Protecting her,” Seonghwa said, drawing out the words mockingly. “Or is it something more?”

“I don’t love her,” Jongho snapped, his tone final.

The crew burst into laughter, the sound echoing across the deck. Even Hongjoong let out a low chuckle, finally setting his drink down.

“If you don’t love her,” the captain said, leaning back in his chair, “then stop pacing around like a lovesick puppy. You’re throwing off the entire crew."

“Yeah,” Yunho added with a grin. “Even the parrot’s giving you side-eye at this point.”

Jongho opened his mouth to retort but found no words that would convince them otherwise. Instead, he huffed and crossed his arms, retreating to his post with an annoyed scowl.

Yeosang exchanged a glance with Mingi before smirking. “He’ll realize it eventually,” he said quietly.

“Or we’ll keep reminding him until he does,” Mingi replied with a chuckle.

As the laughter died down and the crew returned to their tasks. Jongho didn’t love her, he told himself. He was just… concerned. That was all. Yes, that's it.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen Jongho. You told yourself you shouldn’t expect him, that he had his own life aboard the ship, filled with duties and battles you couldn’t begin to imagine.

But some small, stubborn part of you always found your eyes drifting to the road outside, hoping to catch sight of him.

And then, one evening, as the sky blushed with the soft hues of sunset, you heard it—the measured, confident sound of boots against gravel. Your heart leapt before you could stop it, and you quickly wiped your hands on your apron, glancing toward the door just as his familiar silhouette appeared.

“Jongho,” you said, trying to sound calm though you could feel your pulse racing.

He nodded, stepping into the doorway. His eyes swept the room, taking in the tidy shelves and the faint scent of freshly baked bread. “Everything alright?” he asked, his tone steady, the same question he always asked.

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “It is now. Come in.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing the invitation, but eventually stepped inside, his presence filling the small space effortlessly.

You poured him tea, the silence between you familiar and strangely comforting. He didn’t say much—he rarely did—but his quiet presence was enough. You found yourself telling him about the shop, how business had picked up again, and how you’d repaired the shutters just last week. He listened intently, his gaze steady, his attention making you feel like your words mattered.

When he finally rose to leave, you felt a pang of disappointment, though you didn’t say anything. He paused at the door, glancing back at you.

“I’ll check in again,” he said simply.

You nodded, your smile soft but genuine. “I’ll be here.”

And then he was gone, the sound of his boots fading into the evening air. You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty doorway, your heart inexplicably lighter.

You didn’t know why he kept coming back, and maybe he didn’t either. But you found yourself looking forward to his visits, to the way he made you feel seen and safe in a way no one else ever had. For now, that was enough.

The air outside buzzed with excitement, the faint sound of music and chatter from the central town festival reaching your small home. You stood at the window, peeking out at the vibrant colors of the decorations that dotted the streets beyond your view.

The door creaked open, and you turned to see Jongho stepping inside. His usual calm demeanor was in place, though his eyes flicked over you briefly, taking in the faint spark of longing in your expression.

“There’s a festival in town,” he said, his voice low but steady.

You nodded, brushing your hands on your skirt. “I know. I’ve always wanted to go, but…”

Your voice trailed off, and you glanced toward your mother, who stood nearby, watching the two of you.

Jongho followed your gaze, his brow furrowing slightly. “Why not?”

Your mother sighed, folding her arms. “She’s young, and festivals can be crowded, chaotic… dangerous. I can’t let her go alone.”

“I’ll take her,” Jongho said simply, as though the decision had already been made.

“You'd do that? Take me there?”

“Why not?”

Both you and your mother looked at him, surprised. He met your mother’s gaze evenly, his tone firm. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

Your mother hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. Finally, she nodded, though she still seemed unsure. “Alright. But don’t let her out of your sight.”

A rush of excitement and nervousness bubbled up inside you as you grabbed your shawl. “Thank you, Jongho,” you said softly, your smile warm and genuine.

---

The town was alive with color and energy. Lanterns hung from every building, their soft glow casting a warm light over the cobblestone streets. Stalls lined the roads, selling everything from sweets to trinkets, and performers entertained small crowds with music and dancing.

Jongho stayed close to you, his presence a steady anchor in the lively chaos. His hand hovered near your back, guiding you through the crowd without a word.

“Where should we go first?” you asked, looking up at him.

He glanced around, his eyes scanning the stalls and performers. “Wherever you want.”

“I don't know, you choose”

“We can do whatever you want”

You look down a bit and think. You'd never been given choices. They were always made for you. You always felt pressure whenever someone said to choose something and at the end you just keep saying ‘whatever you want’.

You grinned, feeling a rare sense of freedom. Tugging gently on his sleeve, you led him to a stall selling candied apples. He didn’t protest when you bought one for yourself and insisted he try one too, but he informed you that he can't have sweet things.

You went around stall from stall, that's when you spotted a beautiful earring in one of the stalls. It was completely your style and pretty. You kept looking at it, that's when jongho noticed you looking somewhere.

“Where are you looking at?”

You look back at him and smile, “nothing.” Maybe I can ask mom to buy these next year, if we can come.

As the night went on, you wandered from one attraction to another. You laughed at a juggler’s clumsy tricks, marveled at the intricate designs of hand-painted fans, and even managed to coax Jongho into trying his hand at a ring toss game.

He didn’t win, but the sight of him concentrating so intently on the simple game made you laugh until your sides hurt.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a faint smile.

“Maybe,” you teased, feeling more at ease with him than ever before.

When the night sky filled with stars, the two of you found a quieter spot on the edge of the festival grounds. You sat on a low stone wall, watching the festival bustling with people even though it was pretty late at night.

“Thank you,” you said after a while, your voice soft.

Jongho turned to look at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “For what?”

“For taking me here,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Looking out for me. You didn’t have to, but… it means a lot.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying you. Then he nodded, his voice quiet but firm. “It’s no trouble.”

Back at the ship, Jongho returned to the bustling crew. The festival had left him with a strange feeling, one he couldn’t quite place.

“You’re back,” Yunho said, leaning against the mast with a grin. “How was your little outing?”

“It was fine,” Jongho replied curtly, brushing past him.

“Fine?” Wooyoung piped up, sidling up with a mischievous glint in his eye. “That’s all we get? Come on, did she hold your hand? Laugh at your jokes? Look at you like you’re her hero?”

“Wooyoung,” Jongho warned, his tone low.

But the teasing only grew as San joined in. “Admit it, you enjoyed yourself.”

Jongho shot them a glare that silenced most of their laughter, though their knowing looks didn’t fade.

He didn’t understand the pull he felt toward you, but one thing was clear: he would keep protecting you, no matter what. Anything beyond that… he wasn’t ready to think about it

The next time Jongho visited your home, it was early evening. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting golden light over the small house. You were outside, tending to the small garden by the porch, when you noticed him approaching.

“Jongho,” you greeted, brushing dirt off your hands as you stood. His posture was straighter, and his hands were tucked behind his back.

“Hello,” he said, his voice calm as always, though his eyes briefly flickered down to the dirt smudged on your cheek.

“What brings you here?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder as though ensuring no one was watching. Then, clearing his throat, he brought his hand forward to reveal a small cloth-wrapped bundle.

You blinked at it, unsure of what it could be. “What’s this?”

“Just take it,” he said, his tone gruff, though he avoided your gaze as he extended the bundle toward you.

With a curious smile, you untied the cloth, your breath catching as the fabric fell away to reveal a pair of delicate earrings. They were simple yet elegant, their small gemstone pendants glinting in the light.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized them. “These… these were at the festival,” you murmured, tracing a finger over the smooth surface of one gem. “I saw them, but—”.

“You were staring at them right? That day?,” Jongho interrupted, his voice firm but quieter now. “Figured you might like them.”

Clutching the earrings tightly in your hand. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he replied simply, meeting your gaze for a moment before looking away, almost as if he were embarrassed. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insisted, a soft laugh escaping you. “This is… this is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me.”

Jongho shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just thought you’d like them.”

Your fingers gently traced over the smooth gemstones on the earrings, the delicate sparkle catching the fading sunlight. “But…” you hesitated, looking up at Jongho, who stood there with his usual calm demeanor. “Aren’t these expensive?”

He tilted his head slightly, an almost amused glint in his eyes. “I’m rich,” he said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.

You blinked at him, surprised by his bluntness. “You’re what?”

“Rich,” he repeated, his tone steady, though there was the faintest hint of humor tugging at the corner of his lips. “Why does that surprise you? I'm part of the richest pirates in the seven seas. Do you not know?”

“I mean… you’re on a ship all the time,” you said, flustered. “You don’t exactly seem—”

“Seem what?” he cut in, raising an eyebrow.

“Like someone who’d buy earrings for a girl,” you finished, your cheeks warming.

Jongho crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t buy them for just anyone. I bought them for you. That’s different.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you clutched the earrings tighter, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“I told you, it’s no big deal,” he continued, his tone softening slightly. “You liked them, so I got them. Don’t think too much about it.”

You smiled despite yourself, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and something else you couldn’t quite name. “Thank you,” you said again, your voice quieter this time.

He nodded, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. “You’re welcome.”

As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but call after him, “So, how rich are we talking?”

Jongho paused, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk that was so subtle you almost missed it. “Rich enough to buy the earrings and not think twice about it.”

You laughed softly as he walked away, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

Unknown to you, the poor boy had gone through the torment of his 7 brothers, who won't leave him alone. They teased him so much about the earrings that he almost almost threw one of them overboard.

The crew was always quick to notice anything out of the ordinary, and had clearly picked up on Jongho’s latest visit to your home.

“So,” Yunho started, leaning casually against a barrel as Jongho walked across the deck, “we heard about the earrings.”

Jongho paused, his jaw tightening slightly. “What about them?”

“Oh, nothing,” Wooyoung piped up, barely containing his grin. “Just that our stoic Jongho has a soft spot for a certain someone.”

San joined in, throwing an arm dramatically around Jongho’s shoulder. “You know, if you’re going to buy her gifts, why not go all out? Maybe a necklace next time? Or a whole jewelry set?”

Jongho shrugged off San’s arm, his expression unimpressed. “It was just a pair of earrings. Don’t make it a big deal.”

“A pair of earrings,” Seonghwa repeated, feigning shock. “Do you know how much effort that is? Choosing the right ones, paying for them…”

Yeosang, who rarely joined in on the teasing, leaned against the railing with a faint smirk. “I’m just curious how long it took you to pick them out. Did you stare at the stall for an hour?”

“He probably scared the vendor,” Mingi added, his laughter booming across the deck. “Standing there, glaring at the earrings until they wrapped them up for him.”

Even Hongjoong, who had been silently observing from his chair, chimed in with a sly smile. “So, Jongho, how does it feel to be the romantic of the group? Should we start calling you the ship’s Cupid?”

Jongho’s patience was clearly thinning, but his expression remained steady. “I’m not romantic. I just thought she’d like them. That’s it.”

Wooyoung clutched his chest dramatically, staggering back. “He thought she’d like them! Oh, it’s worse than we thought—he’s thinking about her!”

“That’s enough,” Jongho said firmly, though the slight pink tinge to his ears betrayed his frustration.

Yunho, ever the instigator, leaned closer with a mischievous grin. “You know, Jongho, if you keep this up, we might need to start a fund for all the gifts you’ll be buying her.”

Jongho shot him a sharp look. “You’re all lucky I don’t throw you overboard.”

The crew erupted into laughter, thoroughly enjoying themselves at Jongho’s expense. Despite his annoyance, Jongho couldn’t fully suppress a faint smile as he turned and walked away.

As the teasing continued behind him, one thought lingered in his mind: he didn’t regret buying the earrings, no matter how much they made fun of him. If it made you smile, it was worth every ounce of ridicule.

The laughter and teasing aboard the ship gradually subsided as the crew prepared for their next voyage. Supplies were loaded, sails checked, and the familiar hum of activity filled the air. But this time, there was an unspoken heaviness among them. They were leaving the port—and there was no telling when they’d return.

Jongho stood near the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the town lay, now bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

“She’ll be fine, you know,” Yunho said, walking up beside him and leaning against the railing.

Jongho didn’t respond immediately. His grip on the wood tightened slightly, his eyes scanning the distant rooftops as though he could catch a glimpse of you from here. “I know,” he said finally, though his tone lacked conviction.

Yunho chuckled softly. “You’re terrible at lying, Jongho. Especially to yourself.”

“Leave him be,” Seonghwa said, passing by with a small smirk. “He’s just sulking because he can’t buy her more earrings from the next town.”

“Maybe we should’ve taken her with us,” Wooyoung suggested with a mischievous grin, appearing on Jongho’s other side. “At least then, Jongho wouldn’t be moping around like a kicked puppy.”

Jongho shot him a warning look. “She’s safer at home.”

“True,” Mingi chimed in as he approached, slapping Jongho on the back. “But are you safer without her?”

The others burst into laughter, their voices carrying across the deck, but Jongho remained silent. His thoughts were already elsewhere—back at the small house where he’d left you.

Now, as the ship’s anchor was lifted and the sails unfurled, Jongho couldn’t help but glance back one last time. The town grew smaller in the distance, and with it, the little piece of peace he’d found there.

Everything had to come to an end, he reminded himself, but this end felt heavier than he’d expected. Even as the ship carried him further from the port, his thoughts lingered on you—on your quiet strength, your laughter, and the way your smile had made the world seem just a little brighter.

For now, all he could do was focus on the journey ahead and trust that fate would bring him back to you someday.

Their journey had been long and unpredictable, filled with danger, discovery, and the relentless pursuit of fortune. From navigating treacherous waters to encountering rival ships, every day aboard the ship demanded resilience and wit.

They'd charted unknown territories, bartered with distant towns, and clashed with pirates in battles that tested their mettle. The crew thrived on the adrenaline of their adventures, though the weight of uncertainty often hung over them.

For Jongho, the journey was a blur of responsibility and restlessness, his thoughts occasionally drifting to the little house by the port. Each victory and challenge brought them closer to returning, though they never knew when that day would come.

Now, after years away, the ship had finally docked, and their travels were behind them—for now.

The town felt both familiar and distant as Jongho and the crew disembarked after years at sea. Jongho’s eyes instinctively searched the streets, scanning for any sign of you. The house came into view quickly, and his steps faltered. It looked well-kept, the garden vibrant and alive, and the faint scent of baked goods wafted from an open window.

As he approached the door, he noticed a subtle change—a sign hung near the entrance: “Homemade Goods & Repairs.” His brow furrowed, curiosity rising.

He knocked lightly, and a familiar voice called out, “One moment!”

When you opened the door, your expression lit up instantly. “Jongho!”

You were different, older somehow, with a confidence in the way you stood. Your hands were dusted with flour, and there was a smudge of it on your cheek. But your smile was as bright as ever, and seeing it eased something in Jongho’s chest.

“You’re back,” you said warmly, stepping aside to let him in. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.”

“I didn’t expect to see this,” Jongho replied, motioning toward the bustling shop area. Shelves lined with jars of jams and pastries occupied one side, while the other side displayed tools and items neatly organized for repairs.

You chuckled, wiping your hands on your apron. “After my mom passed, I needed something to keep me busy. The shop helps, and it keeps me connected to the town. I do alright.”

Jongho nodded, glancing around. The place had a sense of order and life he hadn’t expected. “You’re running this by yourself?”

“For now,” you replied, smiling proudly. “The town’s been good to me. They keep me busy enough, and I like it that way.”

Jongho’s gaze lingered on you, and he couldn’t help but notice the resilience in your tone. You weren’t the fragile girl he’d left behind. You’d grown, thrived even, despite everything.

“You’ve done well,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with admiration.

Still, his heart felt heavy as he considered what lay ahead. The ship wouldn’t stay docked for long; it never did. His life was the sea—a life of unpredictability, danger, and adventure. But standing here, surrounded by the quiet hum of your shop, he wondered if there was room for something else.

“You’ve made a good life for yourself,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.

You nodded, leaning against the counter. “I have. It’s not always easy, but it’s mine.”

A silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken questions. He broke it first.

“I can’t ask you to leave this behind,” he said. “You’ve worked too hard to build it.”

Your brow furrowed as you studied him. “And you’re not ready to leave the sea.”

He shook his head. “That's all I’ve ever known.”

You stepped closer, your hand brushing against his arm. “Then don’t. You don’t have to choose, Jongho.”

He looked at you, confusion flickering across his face.

“You come and go,” you continued. “The sea is part of who you are, and I wouldn’t want to take that from you. But when you’re here, this can be home. If you want it to be.”

Home. The word hung in the air between you, and for the first time, Jongho felt a sense of calm he hadn’t known he was searching for.

“I don’t deserve that,” he said, his voice barely audible.

You smiled softly. “Maybe not. But it’s here anyway.”

Jongho was silent for a long moment, the weight of your words settling over him. He wanted to say more but wasn’t sure how. He wanted to ask you to come with him, to leave everything behind and sail with him, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair. You had your life here, and he couldn’t ask you to give that up for the uncertain life he led.

But then, without thinking, the words left his mouth, surprising even himself.

“Marry me.”

You froze, your eyes wide with shock. Jongho instantly regretted speaking before he’d thought it through. But he couldn’t take the words back now, and he didn’t want to.

He cleared his throat, trying to explain. “I know it sounds sudden, and I’m not asking you to give up your life here, but…” His voice faltered. “I don’t want to keep going back and forth, not anymore. I want you to be with me, always. Even when I’m out there on the sea. We could make it work, I know we could.”

You stared at him, your heart beating fast as you processed his words. The shock began to wear off, replaced by something warm and steady. Jongho had always been a protector to you, but hearing him say he wanted more—that he wanted to be with you no matter what—stirred something deep inside you.

You took a deep breath, the weight of his question settling on your chest. “Are you sure?” you asked quietly. “This isn’t just about wanting me close when it’s convenient for you?”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “No. I want all of you. Even when I’m gone. You’re the only thing that’s ever made me think about staying.”

You met his eyes, feeling the sincerity in his words. There was no doubt in your mind. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said, your voice steady now. “If you’re asking me to be part of your life, even with all the uncertainty, then yes. I’ll marry you.”

A smile spread across Jongho’s face, relief flooding through him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this certain about anything. Without another word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, the promise of the future settling between you like a quiet promise.

The sea might still call to him, but now, he had something far more important to come back to. And this time, it wouldn’t be just a visit—it would be home.

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muqingslover · 3 months ago

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[ Caleb canonically doing MC's laundry has set something off in my brain so here I am. Also, happy Valentine's day ! here's a longer one as a treat from me ;) I've been posting kinda of non-stop haha ] if you saw me post this before no you didn't

This has happened before. In fact, it had happened a few too many times for his sanity's sake. Whenever Caleb offered to do your laundry to be helpful he always had to deal with the strain in his pants that he pretended wasn't there by covering his lap with a magazine and thinking about literally anything else besides that tantalizing piece of fabric. He's been a good man, or at least he's always tried to be one for you. But was it really his fault if the situation was presented to him with a quite literally adorable little red bow?

Still, he has an admiring amount of self-restraint and for days he told himself he should give them back to you. Every time you two met he kept waiting for the moment to return it, clutching the fabric in his pocket, but all he received were reasons not to. Or perhaps, he just saw what he wanted to see. That's how a week turned into months and then the tortuous years without contact that drove him to the brink of insanity. Fighting back the urge to find you again and do everything his mind has fantasized about countless times was one of the hardest battles he ever faced, and that was saying something.

"Fuck..." He exhaled shakily. His head hit the wall behind him and he spread his legs further on the chair of his private quarters, keeping a firm hand wrapped around the base of his cock. It started after he found the old pair of panties that he had so carefully stored away and now all his mind had to offer were twisted fantasies. Caleb was in biiig trouble— He had to leave in less than fifteen minutes for a meeting and there were security officers constantly passing by his door, but he was past the stage that a simple cold shower and mental math equations would make the issue go away. The images of how the fabric would've adorned your curves in all the right places were soon followed by the memories of how sometimes he'd get a sneak peek when you bent over in front of him and gods that was the sexiest thing he's ever seen.

His metallic hand clutched the delicate fabric tighter as he trapped the lace between his teeth to force down another low groan when his palm began moving up and down again and the faint smell of your soap made his mind feel fuzzy. He was so sensitive that it ached to be touched— He was sure if this was your hand he'd have come on the spot the second your fingers brushed against him. Hell, if you breathed a bit too closely to his cock he'd fall apart like the pathetic man he is and he can only picture how your beautiful face would look covered with his cum. Can you blame him though? He's never even considered doing this with anyone else, nor will he ever do that, and his busy military life didn't leave much space for his own...moments.

He released the lace from his teeth and pressed the red fabric against his swollen tip, accidentally letting out a strained moan that was a bit too loud as his eyes rolled back into his head. He decided to quickly shut himself up by pushing his dog tag into his mouth to bite down on the metal, otherwise everyone outside his room would know just what the colonel was doing. Caleb imagined that the wet line his precum had made was because of your arousal for him instead. The way it would seep through the thin fabric and mark your pussy for him in such a filthy way. The way he'd lick along the damp spot and enjoy each and every sound that he'd surely drag out of your throat while he had your thighs around his head.

His hips jerked as he thrusted himself into his hand, into your panties, into you. The room filled with his barely contained ragged breathing as he hoped your pussy would be as much of a slippery mess as his cock was right now when he pushed past your slit, stretching you open so good yet so agonizingly slow. His grasp around his length was tight when the friction of the thin fabric against his dripping cock sent him over the edge and he came so hard his body twitched non-stop. His dog tag slipped from his lips, dangling around his neck again as he slumped back against the chair after his strength left his body momentarily.

His eyes landed on the red panties that were now coated in his thick, white cum and Caleb raised his hand to bring the messy cloth to his lips. He pushed his tongue out and licked along right at the middle where your soaked cunt would be, tasting his own release and wishing it was yours. It was a shame he had gotten such a pretty and precious thing dirty but, not to worry, he's always been good at cleaning up.

#tumblr issues #sighhhh #anyway enjoy #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #lads smut #lads caleb #caleb x reader #caleb smut #lads x reader #lads

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writingbluerose · 3 months ago

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once upon a dream | silver vanrouge x reader

summary : it has been a few weeks since you've entered Twisted Wonderland as a student and defeated Riddle's overblot. But you've been having these dreams...and a boy is always in them, he's so handsome and kind, too bad he's just a boy made by your imagination, right...?

warnings : maybe some mentions of bullying, reader is Yuu and it's implied she's a girl <3 ; suggestive!

a / n : Other Silver fanfic order for you! A plot that came to me while I was trying to sleep, heh, ironic :3 ( and yes I KNOW, this ain't really an original fic name but believe me I didn't think anything was more fit for this story than this title )

Other day done at Night Raven Collage. Classes upon classes and lots of students that had nothing better to do but laugh and look down at you as always then getting beaten up by Ace and Deuce. It was a routine at this point and it always made you just as tired every day and even more excited at the thought of just crashing into your bed and never wake up again. Though you couldn't help but think about that dream again.

You've been having this dream lately, you're always in the same spot. A forest, with tall thin trees and colorful flowers, and also a lake, so clear it could resemble a mirror and so so very pretty. And yet, not one of them can top his beauty. While dreaming of this forest, there was a boy. A boy with silver hair and eyes with such a beautiful color to them that they rival the aurora borealis back in your world, a boy so pretty you wonder how did your consciousness even make him up. And he comes to you in every dream, every single one, not once he had missed a meeting. His name is Silver, he says, and he's a knight, a knight in training. It's been roughly a month since you met, and you keep wondering if he's truly a fragment of your imagination because he's somehow too perfect and if you were completely honest you've grown to have romantic feelings for him, which not even you can believe.

In another part of the school past the hall of mirrors and into the Diasomnia dorm, a silver haired boy is sitting on the couch deep in thought. Not about something, rather about someone, someone who's been in his dreams for far too long and now occupies his every waking thought. And of course, to search for an answer he goes to the wisest person he knows yet. “Father, are you busy? May I tell you something?” Knocking on a room's door, Silver opened it quietly to reveal the figure of Diasomnia's vice housewarden, Lilia Vanrouge, also Silver's adoptive father. “Of course you can Silver! Come in and tell me, you've made me curious” Giving him a smile, Lilia invited the boy in. Sitting next to him Silver looked at the floor then at his father. “You see, lately my unique magic has been... activating more frequently” “Is that so? How come?” “I don't know how but it's not really that which concerns me more. It's the fact that no matter how many times it activates I end up in the same dream, with the same person, and well... I don't know how to say this...” “Do you know? — Lilia was now listening more closely, more interested by the second by his son's story — Who's dream does it belong to?” “I don't...but, it's a girl. I remember she said her name was Y/N” If Silver would've stayed just a few more seconds looking at his father he would've saw how his smile grew ten times more at his son's confession. Scooting closer to Silver he pushed him to tell more. “And? What's happening in those dreams hm?” “Well, the place we're in is the same. It looks so similar to Briar Valley though, she's always there by the lake, like she's waiting for me and we talk and laugh. I think she thinks I'm just a fragment of her mind, but even so she seems so happy talking to me like she's in her own element and that makes me happy, but lately I can't get her out of my mind, she's always there” “Then? Are you in love perhaps?” His father asked quite boldly yet he didn't miss how his son's face turned the faintest shade of red. “I don't know for sure, maybe I am...but, what I know for sure is that... She's beautiful”

At the same time, three first year students were crashing in Ramshackle's dorm lounge, three friends to be exact and one little magic beast snoozing away in the corner of the couch. “So this guy has been in your dreams ever since you came here?” “And he's never missed a single one?” Clutching a pillow to your chest, you buried your face in it, clearly embarrassed by the conversation which you started with the goal of searching for a solution to your feelings. You quietly murmured a yes in the pillow causing the two boys to look at each other. “Well I ain't got nothing for your situation Y/N” “Myeah, sorry, me neither” “Guys COME ON! There's got to be something! Right? Right?!” Grabbing Ace's shoulders you shaked him desperately, you were way too exasperated for this yet you couldn't help but ask your friends, they were the only ones you could lean your shoulder on. “Ok ok geez! Stop shaking me like that I'm gonna puke! Sevens...hm, to be fair, I can't help but think that that description of yours seems oldy familiar, but I can't wrap my head around it” “I agree with Ace — Deuce turned his head to look in your direction — something about that description seems familiar but I don't remember anyone looking like that at all” You whined and sat on the couch sulking. “What am I gonna do?! How did I even feel in love with a guy that MY imagination created?! This isn't even possible!!” Ace snickered. “Well can't do anything about that! But um, are you entirely sure your imagination created him?” “Well what else would bring him in my dreams every single night?” “Well, it could be someone's, you know... unique magic” “Hm? Oh like Riddle's 'Off with your Head' spell?” “Yeah!” You hummed and looked at the floor thinking. Even if he was real, how can someone be so... perfect? And so so beautiful like Silver?

Two days passed since the conversation with Ace and Deuce and by now you're almost convinced that the two were right and that in fact the boy who accompanied you in every dream was a boy who was brought here by, probably, his unique magic. Though who is he really? Is his name really Silver? Does he know who you are, is that why he's with you all the time? Or he doesn't and he's being brought here by accident? Answers, you'd like to have the answers to these questions. “You alright Y/N?” Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you turned around to see Deuce next to you. Behind the two of you, Grim and Ace were bickering about an accident that happened in professor's Crewel class. You softly smiled at Deuce, “Yeah don't worry about it Deuce. I was just thinking” The dark blue haired boy frowned at you, “Are you sure that's all? You know you can tell us everything right?” “Of course yes, it's just...hm...” He took his hand off your shoulder, his expression turning softer. “Hey, if it's about that guy in your dreams, don't worry about it. I'm sure we're going to find him soon! Don't let that ruin your day, alright?” You gave him a soft smile and turned your head in front of you, but just as you started walking again your body was thrown onto the floor by a sudden force...you hit someone didn't you? “Y/N! Are you alright? You're not hurt are you— Hrk!” Eyes trailing to the two figures in front of them, Deuce was suddenly face to face with two of the students from Diasomnia. Its Vice Housewarden and... and Silver, who, now that Deuce thinks about it, looked awfully similar to the description of the boy you saw in your dreams. “Oh my! Sorry about that you two! Silver didn't see you here!” Lilia laughed at the little unexpected meeting, not noticing the way Silver looked down at you. Something about you was awfully familiar.

Silver snapped out of his thoughts and held out a hand for you to take. “I apologize, I... I didn't see you, I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking” Rubbing the back your head, you took his hand before looking at him with a smile. “That's ok, I also need to pay attention to where I- ah!” Your hand stopped mid-air, your eyes wide at the person in front of you. It's him, that's him! That's...that's Silver! “U-uhm...” You shakily took his hand and pulled yourself up on your feet quickly retrieving your hand from his. “I'm- uh- yeah! I'm ok! Don't- don't worry about it!” You looked anywhere but at him because goodness, if you did you wouldn't be able to tear your eyes from his. Unbeknownst to you, Silver was thinking the same. He finally found you, you're here at NRC, right in front of him, you. Turning your head around, you looked at Deuce with a panic the boy has never seen before. “Come on Deuce! We gotta go!” Startled by your voice Deuce barely had time to think before you grabbed his arm. “Wh- hey are you ok?? Y/N?!” You hurriedly pulled his arm to be out of Silver's vision. From behind you, Ace's voice echoed through the halls, completely oblivious to what happened seconds before. “Hey hold on where're you going? Wait for us!” With Grim on his shoulders Ace quickly caught up to both of you and just like that you were out of Silver's reach. His eyes trailed to the place you feel. Noticing his distress, Lilia questioned him, “Something wrong Silver?” The silver haired boy waited a minute before answering back to his father. “Lilia that was her. That's Y/N, it's her, she's here” Silver couldn't believe it, you were not a meaningless dream he's been having, you're real. And Sevens, he never wanted to feel your touch more than he does now.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Your mind was racing as you stepped in circles in the back of the Ramshackle dorm. After class ended you quickly excused yourself to Ace and Deuce and ran back to your dorm. You can't believe it! Silver! He's- he's real! And he's at this school! Gosh you've never felt more embarrassed than you did now. How are you even going to meet his eyes or even cross him in the halls without it being awkward? And yet... you feel so happy. He could've easily dismissed you like everyone else, he had magic so he had every right to. Yet he didn't, he stayed and listened to whatever you had to tell him despite your inferiority. And that made you really happy. Silver was kind, perhaps the only kind person you'd ever find here. Smiling to yourself you looked up at the sky, “I wonder if he'd meet me now that he knows who I am” “Of course I would, I don't have any reasons not to” From behind you, a calm voice answered your question. Silver silently walked and stopped next to you. “Why would you think I wouldn't?” You looked down before blushing slightly “Well, you know...not many people want to have something to do with me because I'm...well...you know, magicless, so I'm weak” Silver frowned. “Weak? I wouldn't say that being magicless means you're exactly weak. There are other types of strength you can train and use to your advantage, just because you don't have magic does not mean you're inferior to anybody, you should always remember that” Smiling at you, Silver landed you his hand in hopes that you'd take it, and you did. “Do you trust me?” You laughed “After all the time we spent together? How could I not?”

Without any words exchanged between you, both of you walked deeper and deeper in the forest with you taking a peak at Silver's expression from time to time to see if you can discover what he plans on doing. Soon enough you both arrived at an opening in the forest. The trees were tall and forming an almost perfect circle around you giving space for the sun to peak through the leaves and branches, there were small patches of flowers with all types of colors and you could hear tiny birds singing happily. How could such a place even exist on the grounds of this school? It's like a place from a fairytale. “This place is...really pretty, I didn't know such a place existed here” “It is yes. I come here whenever I feel drowsy after hours, I would usually hate the idea of sleeping for such a long time, but sometimes even I can't help myself... Though I wish to get rid of my drowsiness as soon as possible” Pouting, Silver scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “But that's not why I called you here” He came to you and took both your hands in his, dragging you a bit farther into the opening. Still holding your hands he looked at you with a seriousness you've never seen from him, even in your dreams. “Y/N — he began, a bit hesitant, you noticed — I wanted to tell you this here, so I hope you'll listen to me until the end” Looking at his questioningly you smiled and signaled for him to continue. “Ever since I've met you in your dream, I-... I wasn't able to get you out of my mind. You were there in my thoughts even at times where I was thinking about something completely unrelated to our adventures. And soon enough I... I discovered that I love you! I really love you and when we met today I realized that my feelings for you were even stronger! So I don't know if you feel the same but I wanted to tell you. I love you Y/N, I love you so much” Taking a few seconds to process his words your face became redder and redder in every passing second you thought about every single word he said. “Silver I... I love you too! And I've been loving you for so long, even when I thought you were part of my imagination! I mean how could I not? You're so handsome and kind and- and perfect! I... I've always loved you, like, a lot” The boy's eyes widened in surprise at your words “Perfect? You think I'm perfect?” You excitedly nodded at his question.“The most perfect person I've met”

You steeped closer, your bodies almost touching. Silver's eyes trailed to your lips signaling what he wanted before he met your eyes again. One hand went to your waist the other still holding yours. Doing the same one of your hands found its way to his shoulders pulling him even closer, feeling his breath so so close to your lips that you couldn't help but shiver. At that, Silver squeezed your waist as a way of telling you that he is too, getting impatient. You looked him in the eyes while your lips almost touched. “Do you want to? Show me how much you love me?” “If you'll allow me” Feeling his words against your lips you nodded, accepting. At that, Silver's lips finally found yours and he groaned at the contact. His hand left yours to hold your cheek and yours flew to his silver locks and grabbed his hair. Silver groaned again before he nibbled at your lip and bit it causing you to gasp against his mouth allowing his tongue to explore you. Not a single inch was left out, Silver wanted to engrave you in his mind, how you felt against him, your touch, your looks every single thing. The kiss lasted for a long time, every single breath, whimper, groan and brush of tongue exchanged was engraved in both of your minds, bodies so desperate for each other's touch that letting go was almost impossible.

After some time, you finally parted with heavy breaths and puffy lips. You looked at each other for a while before smiling. Silver's hand brushed the hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear smiling softly. “You're so beautiful” “Me? You're mesmerizing” You said laughing. The boy took your hand in his and brought it to his mouth kissing it, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away and kissed you on the lips once again. “I love you” “Hm, I love you too Silver, so much” You hugged him pecking him on the lips, you just couldn't resist not to do it, he was just so pretty for you to resist.

After the confession, you and Silver didn't stop meeting in your dreams. Even when Silver's unique magic didn't work he himself made it so he can see you every night. Dancing, laughing and exchanging kisses in the dreamworld whenever you couldn't meet at school. But when you did, you make sure to sneak out, even if just for a minute, to spend time together before going back to your respective tasks. And both of you couldn't have it any other way. Silver sometimes hopes that you'll stay with him. So both of you can get married and have a family, at the end, growing old together. He knows it's selfish, but he's allowing himself to be, just for a little while, if that means you'll stay with him until the end of his life.

#✦ ~ 𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 !#ANOTHER SILVER FIC WOO!!#I needed to make this the moment my mind made it up #because it's SUCH A COOL CONCEPT #i mean i think that but i hope you guys will like it too!#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst silver #twst silver x reader #silver x reader

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seaborgium-dazies · 11 days ago

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Are requests open? I can’t tell cause it says love letter, so if not you can ignore this! Buttttt if they are…

May I have Kirishima, Iida, Todoroki and Midoriya (you can add all them if you want I just like those 4 the best lol) with a reader who was gone for a bit, maybe they were in another country due to family drama or someone died so they’ve been gone for a couple months, and reader surprises them one day without telling them they’re back???

I love you’re writing by the way, so beautiful

Waiting here for you to come back around

Aweeee thank you so much!!! I hope you enjoy this anon! <3 Seeing mha boys after being apart for a while because of family stuff cw: mutual pining; fluff; no established relationship but something better (mutual crushes ayeee) 🌊: deku, iida, kirishima, shoto

Deku:

Deku was deep in thought, analyzing a quirk he saw earlier when he heard a familiar knocking pattern. As soon as he recognized it he bolted to the door. You would've expected the door to be ripped out of it's hinges with the force deku put into his swing.

"Y/N!"

Deku was beaming and upon seeing you standing in front of his door with a sheepish grin he embraced you in an enthusiastic hug.

"Izuku!"

You couldn't help but laugh at the adorable display of just how much he had missed you. That hug of his nearly knocked the air out of your lungs. He seemed to realize the gravity of his actions only after he pulled away.

He scratched his neck as he bashfully explained.

"Sorry ... I've just been a little worried about you, come right in".

So you took him up on his invitation, spending the rest of the evening talking about any and everything. Satiating Izukus curiosity and getting anything heavy off of your chest.

Mid sentence you noticed a tall stack of papers on his desk and you couldn't help but give izuku a questioning look.

"Ah, yes I almost forgot! These are for you; the notes from the classes you missed! I even color coded it after your system to make it easier to catch up-"

In that moment you really had no idea what you had done to deserve such a beautiful and kind soul. Thinking about you even when you were so far away. And going as far as inconveniencing himself every day while not knowing when you would come back. It brought tears to your eyes and a strange warmth to your chest.

Iida:

Iida sighed in frustration as another one of his text messages went through. No answer from you. How irresponsible can one even be?! He massaged his temples before writing out another stern text.

He was so fired up that he was already hearing things. Iida rolled his eyes at himself for imagining the characteristic ping of your phone when it receives a text message. And just as he was about to put his phone down to collect himself he heard another one... Did that come from the hallway?

He swiftly opened the door to his dorm to reveal you standing there with your hand already in a knocking motion. Instead of going through with the knock you reverted to small jazz hands and a meek

"Surprise?"

Iida called out your name and immediately embraced you in a bear hug. But he pulled away after a couple of moments to give you a piece of his mind.

"What are you doing here y/n? And why haven't you been responding to my messages? What were you thinking?! It's extremely reckless and unsafe to do such things!-"

And even though iida went on a detailed lecture about not keeping him in the loop you could see in the pink of his cheeks and the way his hands were gesturing more wildly than usual, that he really just wanted to reprimand you because he missed you so much.

But you knew just how to make it up to him. Mid sentence you pulled one of iidas favorite snacks out of your backpack, this time in a limited edition flavor which was unavailable in japan. That got him to abandon his scolding to marvel at the package you were holding out to him.

He grabbed you by the wrist as he dragged you into his room for you to try the new candy together. You knew that iida would let go of any petty words now since your temporary absence had one upside.

And even though iida blamed his forgiveness on the joy about his favorite candy of all time, in reality he couldn't handle the fact that even when you were in such a difficult situation you remembered what his favorite candy was and even went out of your way just to make him a little happier. His rosy cheeks betrayed him though.

You still weren't in the clear after that because iida demanded that you talk about the situation with him for your own good; so your mental health and school performance won't suffer.

Todoroki:

"It's open"

Shoto's neutral voice made you grin, but opening his dorm door while holding something heavy was kind of a challenge. So mid struggle the door was opened by shoto himself, revealing you with a giant bag of fruit in your arms.

"Y/n?" Shoto's voice betrayed him, the positive surprise apparent. But Shoto took you down a couple pegs as he observed

"You look rough".

Without waiting for an answer he took the heavy bag out of your arms and before you could tell him that they were for him he asked you

"How was travel? When did you get back?"

"Hello to you too Shoto"

You walked into his dorm room before continuing

"Everything was fine, the whole experience was just rather exhausting"

You had been a little anxious because shoto hadn't been messaging you that much while you were away although you knew that it just wasn't his style to text lots. The truth was that he wanted to give you space because he was sure that if you wanted to talk about it you would reach out.

He was more than glad that you were here now and although he enjoyed the souvenir you brought him, it didn't measure up to the joy he felt to see you again. He practically had to restrain himself because his hands were drifting towards yours all the time. So even if he didn't explicitly tell you how much he missed you, it was clear as day.

Kirishima:

Kirishima was biting the inside of his cheek while staring at the message he last sent you. It was left on delivered and he couldn't help but be worried sick. The whole situation you were in worried him to hell and back.

Leaving in a hurry seemed terrible enough but bad cell service and cryptic sad messages? He felt as if he was trapped in the ninth circle of overthinking hell. Did you eat enough? Drink enough? Did you family give you a hard time?

Speaking- or rather thinking- of the devil he heard you calling out his name from outside of his dorm room.

Kirishima opened his door in record time and upon seeing you he opened his arms which such élan it made you wince. You braced yourself for impact but were met with the most gentle bear hug imaginable instead.

As if Kirishima had sensed exactly what you needed you melted into his warm embrace like butter on top of pancakes. He released you out of his grip after what felt like ages, both of you grinning from ear to ear.

He invited you in and after catching up you spotted a little figurine on his desk that you never saw before.

"Oooh who got you this?"

You took the small figurine into your hands. It was a baby chick with a cute pink ribbon and a blue flower on its head - the craftsmanship was insane and it must've been expensive. The thought of some girl gifting this to him made jealousy well up in your chest. But before you could get the wrong ideas he explained,

"Uhm.. It's actually for you... I saw it and it reminded me of you so I just thought I'd get it in case you were feeling bummed after returning."

"Awww wait, really?"

And as Kirishima saw a hot pink blush spreading from your shoulders to the tips of your ears he thanked the heavens that you safely returned to him.

Buy me a coffee? <3

©️ seaborgium-dazies 2025

leave some love! Reblogs and comments are dearly appreciated<3

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empressgeekt · 3 months ago

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Transformers - TFO/Earthspark Time Travel fic summery - An Aged Reflection au (part 1...maybe)

Okay, so the recent movie (GO WATCH IT!) Transformers One, had reignited my hyper fixation for this franchise and as such I come barring a plot summery for a fic prompt. If anyone wants to use this plot in a fic, please just link me so i can read it!

Once more I'm assuming people have seen the movie and at least the first season of the EarthSpark cartoon.

On to the plot!

We start in the past. After getting thrown from the transport train, Orion, Dee, Elita and Bee, are stuck on cybertron's surface, and while a very beautiful place, it is also filled with unknown things, not all of them safe...though it doesn't stop Orion from being curious. What little vegetation the rust wastes have, is fascinating to him and it's only Dee holding him back from him faceplanting into his first patch of grass to "See what it feels like". There are abandoned buildings and some part of Orion wonders what they mean, likely there were some bots who lived on the surface long ago before the quintessions, and he wants to know what their lives were like. To live in a world underneath the sun, with stars to sing them to sleep.

Dee is the only one who actually entertains Orion's questions. Elita is too focused on her map, and Bee is rambling too much to pay attention to anyone else talking. And Dee has to admit, it does make him wonder too. Sure the surface is clearly dangerous, especially to some bots who don't have any survival instincts, but seeing all that was left behind before they were forced underground, there is a sense of loss. What would've been life if the Quintessions never invaded? It likely wouldn't have effect him being a no-cog, but would there be cities up here? The Primes would still be around, maybe they would've expanded globally. Some part of him imagines living a city built by Megatronus. It would've been grand, no question. Looking out on the horizon of his home planet, he hopes to come back here once it's all over. Maybe with the Matrix returned, Sentinel would start construction on a city on the surface. Maybe Dee could visit. He would like to see the sun rise again in his life.

However, Dee would later regret Orion influencing him with curiosity As half way through the journey, the ever shifting surface of Cybertron opens a fissure a head of them, and they can't cross until the landscape changes again. Deciding to camp out and try again in the morning. During the night a weird light comes from the fissure and long story short they all get sucked in...and blackout...

Orion wakes up in a pool of water, though he doesn't recognize the liquid. He's in an underground cave but the walls aren't made of the metallic stone he's used too, they are too soft and crumbly. The others are knocked out around him, but quickly come too. Thankfully the cave isn't too deep and they make there way back to a surface...but it's not the surface of Cybertron. The ground is too soft, the sky is blue, and the world is covered in "weird nature". First theory, the fissure transferred them to a new biome on Cybertron's surface, however that is quickly disproven when their map glitches out saying their location is not found. Much everyone's but Bee's frustration. Orion tries to keep the spirits up, saying they'll find help. If this is another planet they could be the first to make contact with aliens, to which Elita responds, "Oh great aliens, you mean like when the quintessions found us?"

His efforts are unappreciated...Especially when they were sudden surrounded by Arachnamechs.

All this is going down late season one of Earthspark, so Mandroid has already joined up with Croft, and once four unknown energon signatures showed up on their surveillance systems, they would be going after our no-cog crew. Especially since they don't read as a Con or a Bot.

Our youngling group have no weapons to defend themselves with, Miners weren't allowed to have any and they didn't have any built in, so they try to run. Dee making sure that the others have shielding from the laser fire, however the GHOST troops mistake him for a decepticon due to his Megatronus decal. So, they end up focusing most of their assault on him, eventually nailing with a T-cog disrupter. However, due to his lack of cog, the only thing the device can do is paralyze him. Which freaks Dee the frag out, like he already can't transform, moving is really the only control of his body that he has. These aliens are tiny, but they already have an effective way of taking them down. He sends one last comm to the others, to run, and find the matrix, the planet needs it more then him...even if he's scared out of his mind.

It takes a lot for Elita and Bee to pull Orion away from the sense but they can't help Dee if they captured too. They need to regroup, get more information.

Let's switch gears. Megatron had been sticking around the Malto home for the past day or two. Robby is supposedly cured from what ever was making him ill, but the big mech wants to stay close by just to be sure. He hadn't been able to be around while his Nephew was ill due to Croft sending him out on a useless assignment, but the moment it was over he demanded the time off he was in fact entitled too (all Ghost employees got two weeks of vacation a year). The only reason that the agents who did his release papers didn't die of fright was that he was more concerned for the children, and he was more pissed off at someone else. Quintus Prime. Fancy title or not, dead or not, Primus above you don't mess with his niblings. And as far as Megatron understood it, it was Quintus' cyber-sleeve that was making his nephew ill. Now he was grateful that the aliment was treated quickly, but it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Robby was a child, and didn't deserve what happened.

Though, maybe his frustrations with the whole situation came from his own personal experiences with Primes. Sentinel's betrayal against his people is something Megatron had never been able to forget, and the cyber-sleeve is sort of the same non-consensual body alternation that Sentinel pulled so long ago with the mining class's T-cogs. Don't get him wrong, Megatron cared about his niblings, all seven of them, but the other's lives shouldn't cost one of their siblings'. It's a good thing the little ones have him distracted with a game of dodge ball, otherwise he'd be researching how to hunt ghosts, despite him not believing in them.

Twitch gets him out and he's forced to sit on the sidelines with Dorothy. The human gripes about her signature scanner acting up again, and Megatron takes interest. Apparently for the last couple hour a few un-identifiable signals, popped up and three of them hadn't gone away. Seeing as the children were still far from done with their game, He decides to give the location a fly by before the next round started up. He doesn't notice Twitch sneaking off to follow him.

Meanwhile, with D-16, he's kept paralyzed during the transport and is eventually taken down to the brig. Which doesn't not make him feel better. Every decepticon inside of there is staring at him, and it makes him feel much smaller then he really is. The bots in the cells had cogs, weapons. They were taken down by what ever these aliens were, no wonder he didn't stand a chance. What were these little things, hopefully they couldn't get off world, if they invaded cybertron...Dee is uncermoniously thrown into a cell, where he curls up in the corner, trying vary hard not to be noticed.

Croft does however. The bitter human woman, when informed of the weird reaction that Dee had to the T-cog disrupter, is paranoid that the cons are finding a way to hack into their defense systems/weaponry. So, she clues Mandroid in on the new...specimen. She wants to know what makes this little con tick.

Soundwave, keeps his eye on the little new comer, for two reasons. One, no one had seen any cogless bots since before the fall of sentinel prime, and two, merely the age of this con. He's young far too young to be in a place like this. No way this little one committed any war crimes yet. And judging by the pity filled glances shared between him and his fellow decepticon's he's not the only one to notice. Heck, this kid wasn't even using a translation program, still speaking Iaconian and looking very confused whenever the humans spoke in English. Perhaps the little one was a recently activated protoform that was saved when they left Cybertron? Soundwave doesn't know and he doesn't get a chance to ask. The little con is paralyzed again and is taken to the room, where bots are broken.

The remaining miners are still wandering around aimlessly. Bee is now rendered silent after Dee was kidnapped. Elita is still trying to get the map to work, while Orion is just trying not to have a break down. He wanted to help his planet, not get his best friend abducted by aliens. They had stumbled onto what looked by a settlement, but even Orion's curiosity about these creatures was overridden by fear of getting captured. Clearly they weren't friendly. So needless to say when the Arachnamechs, track them down again. They run, and Orion tries to draw the attention of the drones away from Bee and Elita, and accidentally jumps off of a cliff. In the middle of his screaming as he watches the ground ever quickly rushing to meet him. and un-known voice calls out "grab on!" A rusty red colored drone flies over head and he latches on with all his might.

Twitch might have gotten lost, when she chased after he uncle, but in her defense his alt-mode was much fasters then hers, besides she wasn't really lost, mom had taught her all about navigating the woods. However, the weird bot that just leaped off of the water fall cliff, clearly didn't have the same training. Twitch immediately turns back and catches him, shooting the Arachnamechs with her emp, and then landing on the far river bank. It's only after she transforms that she realizes this guy is just a little bit taller than her and that's kind of surprising, after all, she's tiny compared to other transformers. Though his size is probably the only reason she could carry him.

She's not the only one surprised by the size similarities, Orion is as well. No bot with a cog was ever this small, or at least he hadn't seen one. Twitch as she introduces herself, is wonderful in his understanding, most cogged bots would've let him fall and Orion knows this, however she saved him and helped calm his panic ranting when he realized that only some of the Arachnamechs followed him when he broke off from the group. Twitch listens and is horrified to learn that Dee was kidnapped and offers to help, saying they need to find her "uncle" (whatever that word meant), and transforming to take off. Orion is baffled by her confusion over the fact that he's cogless. When he gestures to the empty slot in his chestplating, he wasn't expecting the heartbroken look on her faceplate, but thankfully Twitch doesn't dwell on it, and instead leads Orion through the forest on foot.

While running in the direction of where he, Eltia and Bee split off from each other, Orion just can't help but ask a number of questions on his mind. Like Where they were? How did a cybertronian get here? What were those little drone things

"Oh wow, lot's of questions. Okay first off, we're on earth, and I didn't get here I was born here. I guess you like call me a sub-species of cybertronian, created by Quintus prime."

"Quintus Prime? But he's been dead for cycles."

"Yeah I know, he once sent off little emberstones, to planets far out of reach to make new life on them, me and my family are the result of one of those stones."

"Oh, so, you're earthians???"

"*giggle* We call ourselves Terrons, thank very much."

Orion is fascinated to learn that Quintus had tried to make colony worlds before his demise, maybe it had been a last ditch effort to escape the quintessions, or some way to make new recruits for the high guard in secret. Either way it didn't matter, clearly Twitch or her "family" (what did that word mean?) hadn't been in contact with cybertron for a long time, likely meaning what ever Quintus was planning failed to happen. Still, this meant Orion could actually get help with a home team advantage, and Twitch did say she's help get Dee get back. Twitch had already proven she understood the weird planet around them when she pointed out that she was tracking Elita and Bee by following the footprints in the soft ground and broken nature surrounding them, two factors that Orion had completely missed. He'd have to meet this "Mom" to see if she'd teach him how to read an organic world like that.

Meanwhile with Megatron, tracking the signals had been easier then he thought, whoever these saps were they were not good at covering their tracks. When the signals split up he decided to go after the bigger group. One bot was easier to pin down then two. Besides one of them was screaming very loudly, and it was for a good reason as Megatron would soon find out. Two very small figures, one pink one yellow, were dashing away from a sizable snare of Arachnamechs. Later he could let himself ponder as to how Mandroid survived, and why he was still going after transformers, but first he needed to keep these little ones out of the madman's hands. He calls out for the bots to take cover as he swoops in to make quick word of the drones.

Elita wasn't expecting for a giant warframe to come flying out of nowhere, but she wasn't about to disobey someone of higher stature when they were helping them. She didn't recognize the grey mech, though Bee's quiet panic rambling through out the chase gave a couple of theories, a surviving member of the high guard, maybe one of the mechs sentinel trained, or maybe a rogue gladiator who decided to say frag it and go find real monsters to fight for the pit of it. By watching him fight it was clear that he was at least trained in combat. Then Bee mutters something that sends chills down Elita's nerve struts, "He's wearing the same sigil as the guys who took Dee!" Elita, in probably the most stupid thing she could do (she blames pax's influence), punches the unknown mech when he gets close.

Megatron was not upset at the pink bot for hitting him as soon as he turned, some bots just had lasting battle reflexes and would lash out against a stranger...or more likely a perceived enemy...it was actually a really good hit too. They wont come of the large rock they too cover behind, and the yellow one won't stop screaming, but eventually Megatron gets a good look at who he's dealing with and is suddenly struct with flashback galore. The first thing he notices is their cogless status and parts of him burn with rightous anger and need to protect them. Then he notices their faceplates, faceplates from a time before, a Bumblebee who was still slightly crazy from long term isloation, and an Elita who was young and brash before Optimus softened her drive for success with his love and dorkyness. Denial sets in rather then acceptance, no way was this happening now, then Megatron hears the voice of his young niece and with her is someone who makes it very clear THIS IS NOT A DREAM!!!

Orion was initally very concerned when he heard the sound of blasters in the woods, but Twitch recongized the sound, as her "uncle"s gun, so he tried not to panic. They end up catching the tail end of the scrummage, and wow, this Terron, as he was lead to believe, was huge! Big, silver, covered in weapons, and with red optics that burned with the fire of a great warrior. It was both awe inspiring and terrifiing to watch, sure Orion had seen violance in the mines, Darkwing was not a peaceful person, but it was nothing like this. Twitch wasn't shocked, clearly used to this, if Terrons had to deal with whatever those little creatures that took Dee were, maybe Terrons had to fight to stay alive. Twitch only added more to Orion's wondering when a lone Arachnamech leaped out of the trees, after the fight was seemingly over, and shot it point blank, ("Uncle Megatron! Look out!" "Well, done Little Bird").

Megatron never thought he would see Orion Pax again. Yes, he saw Optimus on the daily, has for centuries but Optimus wasn't Pax. When Orion was given the matrix, when he shot Orion, some part of Megatron was convinced his friend was dead, gone with the allspark. That he had killed his brother...his grief and guilt coming out as unchecked rage...when Optimus ascended, Megatron rejected him, this wasn't his brother, this was a monster, the Primes were using his brother's corpse to hold power over all bots like him, puppetting him around with that matrix they held so dearly. When he had swore to kill Optimus all those stellar cycles ago, it wasn't for revenge, it was to put his brother to rest peacefully. It had taken a long time, bad blood, and many mistakes for Megatron to see the Pax in Prime again. Yet, here standing in front of him is a perfect re-creation of Orion Pax. However, Twitch pulls him out of his trance by rambling, about everything that happened to her and orion, and hearing that his niece met the young version of his brother after he fell from a cliff, only convinces him that this is a case of time travel.

Orion tries to ignore the look the bigger terron gave him in favor of talking to Elita and Bee, he starts rambling about how this planet also had transformers and everything else Twitch told him, however his excitement is dampered when Elita pointed out Bee observation about the big terron's sigil. He doesn't' want to believe it, looking at the mech, and how he is so gentle with Twitch getting down to her level and paying close attention to her flurry of words, but at the same time, he was still such a fearsome warrior,. Orion really wants to the trust Twitch, after all she had no reason to lie to him, and she did save him from the fall. So, Despite Bee and Elita 's hesitanece, when the big silver mech turns to them.

The mech introduces himself as Megatron (big fan of Megatrounus, obviously, Dee would like him) and seems to be questioning Orion about everything that he had told Twitch, the younger cybertronian was a bout to ask why, when this jem of a line left Megatron's mouth, "Of course, you are from right before everything went to the slag, Dang it, Pax I just had to forget your horrible timing."

Orion never told this mech his name, nor did twitch, which prompted the young terron to ask if her uncle knew Orion.

"I'd recognize the mech i woke up to every morning for the first cycles of my life."

"Dee...?"

"It's good to see you Pax."

Megatron is almost surprised that he can still read every single emotion, that rapidly washes over Orion. Denial, disbelief, and everything else. Thankfully though it only took Megatron mentioning the incident where Orion tired to transform with out a cog, for the group to believe him. Though he could've done without little bee sobbing and clinging to his leg, saying "What did those monsters do to you!" Which led to an explanation about how he was not their kidnapped friend, but rather who D-16 would become in the future. There's a lot of very fast questions from all the younger bots and eventually Megs has to tell them to go one at a time, And that he'll answer their question as they walk, because he needs to get them all out of the open and back to the Malto farm to keep them safe.

And boy do they ask questions..."How long has it been for you?" "Couple million cycles." "Why are you wearing that sigil." "to stay our of trouble." "You changed your name?" "D-16 doesn't really count as a name on earth." "What's an uncle?" "Earth functions differently socially then on Cybertron, the youth are given to older members of society to be cared for and taught, rather then being put to work right after the well. I am not one of Twitch's main caregivers, her "mom" and "Dad", however i am close to one of them, making me a secondary role model for her, an "uncle"." "How'd you end up on earth?" "A very long story." "How'd you get a cog?" "A very VERY long story."

Twitch is a little baffled through out the ride home like, it's weird enough to meet the younger version of the older bots in her life, but they are all so different then their older selves. Orion is so much more energetic and reckless then Mr. Optimus (Uncle Megatron had to talk him down from storming the Ghost headquarters at least twice in the same conversation), B-127 is constantly chattering and Twitch feels so bad he doesn't have an actual name either (she tells him he changes it, and he asks if it's "badassatron", which makes bother her and Megatron laugh), and young Miss Elita is such a stickler for rules!

Bumblebee is the one who first sees them at the the farm, seeing Megatron first ....

Megs: Bumblebee! Do you recall how we met?! before all the slag his the fan?!

Bumblebee: Do you mean back in sub-levels? Yeah why?

Megs: Do you ever remember taking an unplanned visit to the future after we reached the surface?!

Bumblebee: What?!

-----

I'll do a part two if people want to see it

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witchezandwonderz · 9 days ago

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Slow Justice

Pairing: Ivar x Reader Word Count: 5.3K Request: Hi can I request from ur prompt list pls can i have number 11 with Ivar Prompt Quote: "He begged me not to kill him. So I did it slow." A hurt Saxon lady finds unexpected affections with Ivar after her brother betrays her. Master List Prompt List (Requests are open) Tagged list: (If you want to be added or removed, please let me know.) @leftoverp1zza @somebody6468 @cheesesandwichsanto @diorpar @tessakate @miksmom-blog @whitedarkmoonflower @imagines-halfpai @thenameswinter99 @oddsnendsfanfics

"You’re not what I expected."

His voice slid through the shadows behind me, low and dangerous. I didn’t turn. I let the silence stretch. A part of me thought that perhaps if I pretended as though he wasn't there, he would magically go away.

Harsh reality kicked in though, and before I knew it, he had grabbed both of my shoulders and turned me around.

"Disappointed?" I asked, keeping my voice steady, even bored. As if I hadn’t been counting his steps since he entered. As if my heart wasn’t a war drum beneath my ribs. As if I hadn't had the worst two weeks of my life.

"No." The smirk on his face grew more prominent. The glare within my eyes also grew more prominent. There was a silence, and then I heard the slow, deliberate rhythm of his crutch tapping against the stone floor. "I was hoping you'd break. That would've been easier."

"For who?"

He laughed then. Not a proper laugh, though- more of a bark. He had a glimmer in his eyes. He looked like a god carved from ice and rage. Beautiful, but unfortunately an asshole. Assholes are easy to identify- from my experience, anyway.

"If you're waiting for me to cry, Viking," I said, lifting my chin, "you’ll grow old before I give you that pleasure."

He stepped closer, the iron wolf’s head at the base of his crutch clicking with each movement. Measured. Predatory.

"Good," he murmured. "I hate begging. It spoils the kill."

I let out a breath of laughter, not due to amusement, but due to disbelief. His eyes widened at my unexpected reaction.

"To be honest with you, this time a month ago I was sat in my chambers, warm and cosy with a full belly," I stepped closer towards him, his eyes stayed glued to me, "then, suddenly, I find out that my own brother has sold me. Not just to a random Saxon man, no, but to a Viking. So now I am here, in your awful country with your awful people." My voice became raised, for I could not fathom the anger that was building within me.

Ivar continued looking me up and down, his eyes tracing my entire body as if to memorise it. After a pause, one that was filled with the sounds of my heavy breathing, he laughed again. Not a bark this time, but a genuine laugh.

"You are hungry?"

My mouth parted, and my brows furrowed.

"After everything I have just said to you, that is the part that you find most concerning?"

He nodded, and I concluded that this was a very strange man.

I threw both my hands in the air out of frustration, and then admitted defeat by sitting on the cold floor beneath me. Then I looked up at him,

"Yes."

He stared at me, confused, so I continued,

"Yes, I am hungry." I brought my knees up to my chest, and folded my arms around them. He laughed once more, nodded and then hobbled away.

After two days of complete silence, he started bringing me food. Not personally, of course- that would imply warmth, or care, or something dangerously close to softness. No, he gave the order, and his men brought. Always the same thing: thick black bread, salted fish, and once- just once- a sweet apple. I don’t know if it was intentional. I didn’t ask. I ate it anyway. It was worth it.

He doesn’t talk much when we’re alone. I think that’s why I find his presence bearable. He watches me more than he speaks. Like he’s trying to read a language he doesn’t know, but is too proud to admit it.

There was one night- Quite a while ago now- when he asked about my father. Just that. "Your father?" No context, no follow-up. I told him he died when I was twelve. Then I told him how. Then I told him my brother stood by and did nothing.

He listened. No interruptions. No mocking smirk.

"He is weak." He said after he had pondered for a moment or two. I feel as though this may have been the first thing he had said to me thus far that I agreed with.

That was the end of the conversation. He left me alone with the fire and a skin of mead, and I sat there trying to decide whether or not I hated him a little bit less.

I still haven’t decided.

The strangest part is that I don’t think he wants me to fear him anymore. Not like before. He knows I’m already angry. Already broken in some places. Maybe that makes me more useful. Maybe that makes me… entertaining.

Sometimes I wonder if he sees a reflection of himself when he looks at me.

Sometimes I worry that I do too.

Regardless, I am not dead. Yet.

I had a strange encounter with him a few nights ago; I was asleep, strangely so. It was perhaps the first somewhat decent night's sleep I have had since arriving here. My eyes fluttered open, and there Ivar was, right in front of me. Staring.

He told me, "I have been trying to wake you."

I was confused, he cannot have been trying to wake me, and I am certain of it; I have mastered the art of sleeping with one eye open, and in turn sleeping very, very lightly. Despite knowing this, I did not argue with him. Only a fool would have done that. I don't know why he was there, but regardless, he was.

"Why?" I asked him, followed closely by a yawn and a stretch.

There was a pause, and I stared at him expectantly. He nodded towards the bed, insinuating that he wanted to sit down. I nodded in agreement, and moved over slightly.

"You did not seem shocked when you got here."

I looked at him blankly, having no idea what he was speaking of. He understood my confusion and continued,

"You were told that this was an arrangement for peace, yet, it is not." He paused, turning his head to look at me once again.

"I was expecting a dramatic reaction when you got here, but it is like you already knew what was going on."

I looked at him, "I think this is the longest I have heard you speak."

He gritted his teeth, I laughed,

"I am joking, Ivar. You know, a joke? Like, ha ha."

He scratched his head, and I could tell that I had made him slightly uncomfortable- not my intention, but yes, I did enjoy it.

"I am not an idiot, I knew that my snake of a brother would ensure that I am as unhappy as possible."

He thought about this for a moment, and then nodded and hummed to himself- almost as though he was having a conversation with someone inside of his mind. Perhaps himself, or an unknown voice. That happens to me sometimes too.

He gave me a small smile, very small indeed. But a smile all the same, one that made me look at him properly. I looked into his eyes, and for the first time, there was something there. I could not pin point what exactly. A glimmer perhaps. A slight indication that he was human.

We stared at each other for a while, I am aware that this sounds strange- but after all, we are quite strange.

"You are strong." He said, and then patted my leg with his hand. Not a patronising pat, no. It was comforting. His hand lingered, the warmth felt pleasant.

Two mornings after this, I was awoken early and informed that I was needed at 'the training ground'- where on earth was that? I had only seen the inside of the building since being here.

The tunic and trousers he gave me were rough-spun, dyed the dark blue of the warriors here. They were also- very clearly- not meant for me.

The fabric clung to my body, a little too tight across my chest, snug around my hips. I tugged at the hem in irritation, feeling the heat of unwanted attention from the warriors who loitered nearby.

But it was Ivar’s gaze that burned the hottest.

He stood at the edge of the training ground, leaning lazily on his crutch, his blue eyes tracking every movement I made.

I pretended not to notice, but the flush rising to my cheeks betrayed me.

"Your stance is pathetic," he said, breaking the silence. His voice was sharp enough to cut flesh.

I adjusted my grip on the sword he’d tossed me. "Says the man who needs a stick to walk."

For a heartbeat, the entire field seemed to still. His jaw tightened- a visible crack in the ice- but then a laugh escaped him. Low, rough, surprised.

Before I could savor the victory, he moved. Fast.

His crutch hooked the sword from my hand, sending it clattering to the ground. I blinked at the empty space where it had been.

"Dead," he said, stepping closer. Close enough that I could see the faintest smirk playing at his lips.

My breath caught as I realised just how much he was still looking. Not at my face- at the way the borrowed clothes fit too tightly over my body.

I raised my chin defiantly. "If you're trying to intimidate me, you're going to have to do better than staring at my breasts."

His smile sharpened into something wolfish.

"Flatter yourself if it helps you fight," he said, voice low. His eyes dragged over me once more- slow, deliberate- before he turned on his heel and left me standing there, swordless, furious, and far too aware of the way my heart was hammering in my chest.

I did not want to fight. I never wanted to fight. I miss being me.

"Pick up your sword." He barked, now further away. I looked at the sword, and then I looked at him and huffed. I could pick it up. I could do what he wants. Yet, I do not want to.

"I could pick up the sword." I said aloud, "I could slit my own throat with it perhaps."

Ivar's eyes widened at my words, I stared at him blankly.

"Or I could slit my own wrists, it would be better than this living hell." I tried to stop tears from welling in my eyes. Part of me wanted to pick up the sword and end it all. The other part of me wanted to run and never stop.

I leant down slowly, and picked up the sword. Ivar watched me cautiously, his tongue in between his lips as he focused, shuffling closer towards me.

I changed my mind, instead kicking the sword further away. I could feel tears threatening to spill, so I turned on my heel and ran. I ran as fast as I could. Not to escape, no. But to save myself the embarrassment.

He found me later, though I thought I was hidden well. I was crying- really crying, hysterically. With my knees fixed to my chest, and my head buried within them, I sobbed. All of the emotions that had been building up had reached their tipping point.

He appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his blue eyes studying me like I was some strange puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.

"What do you want?" I asked without turning around. My voice was sharp, but underneath, I could feel the weariness creeping in.

"I’ve brought your dinner," he said, the slight quirk of his lips suggesting I wasn’t going to like it.

I didn’t even bother to glance at the food. "You’ve brought it, but I’m supposed to eat it, right?" I asked dryly.

He chuckled, but it wasn’t the usual mocking laugh. This one was softer, almost... sympathetic? "You Saxon ladies always had your fine manners, didn’t you?" he said, stepping inside and sitting across from me. "Finer things in life, isn’t that what you’ve always had?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?"

He shrugged, unfazed. "Perhaps. But it’s true. You come from a place where you expect the best-beautiful things, soft fabrics, warm beds, sweet wines. A lady of... status. You’d be out of place here."

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest. "And what, you think I’m just going to bow to your rugged, barbaric ways?" I scoffed. "I’m not that easily impressed."

He smiled, but there was a hint of something else in it. "You might surprise yourself," he said softly, leaning forward just slightly. "You’re tougher than you think. You’re not the delicate little flower you pretend to be."

I felt a rush of irritation flood my chest. "I’m not pretending," I shot back, my voice sharp. "I’m just not a warrior, Ivar. I never asked for any of this."

He paused, the usual glint of amusement fading from his eyes as he studied me more carefully. "I know you didn’t ask for it," he said, his voice quieter now. "But that doesn’t change what you are. A Saxon lady with a fire inside you. A lady who’s used to having things her way, but is smart enough to know when she needs to adapt." He leaned back, crossing his arms, but his gaze never left mine. "You’ve got strength. I can see it."

I felt my breath catch. It wasn’t often anyone spoke to me like that-like they actually saw something in me. And for a brief moment, a flicker of doubt gnawed at me.

"Fine," I muttered, looking down at the floor. "I get it. I’ll adapt. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it."

He chuckled again, the sound a little warmer this time. "No one’s asking you to like it. Just to survive it. And trust me, you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for."

I huffed, rolling my eyes. "Flattery doesn’t suit you, Ivar. It’s almost... charming, and I hate that."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Maybe you like it more than you let on." He leaned in, his gaze unwavering as he watched my reaction.

I clenched my jaw, trying to hide the warmth that was spreading across my face. "Don’t flatter yourself. You’re still a barbarian," I said, trying to make my voice as cold as possible, but failing miserably.

"I’m sure you’ll find that barbarian useful," he said with a slight smirk. "You don’t exactly have a choice."

The smirk was a little too charming for my liking, and it made my pulse race in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I quickly turned away to hide the sudden flush of heat that had spread across my cheeks.

But he wasn’t done yet. Ivar, in all his arrogance, reached out and gently placed a hand on the edge of my arm, just enough for me to feel his warmth. "I know you think you’re different from everyone here," he said, his voice low. "That you don’t belong. But you do. You’re more like us than you want to admit."

I stiffened at his touch, but I didn’t pull away. There was something in his voice, something soft but insistent, that made me hesitate. "I don’t want to be like you," I said quietly, still not meeting his gaze.

"You don’t have to be like me," he replied, his thumb brushing gently over my arm in a way that sent a shiver through me. "But you can be strong like me. I can teach you how."

I swallowed hard, my pulse thumping in my ears. "I don’t need your pity," I muttered, though my voice didn’t have the same sharpness as before.

Ivar didn’t answer right away. He just sat there, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. I could feel the tension building between us, but neither of us moved, neither of us spoke.

Then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, he sighed, almost regretfully. "You think I’m some kind of monster, don’t you?" he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

I blinked, startled by the question. "I-"

"Yeah, I can see it," he said before I could finish. "I’m no saint, I get it. But maybe I’m not as bad as you think." He paused, then added with a grin, "Though I’m still a hell of a lot better than your brother."

I couldn’t help it. A small laugh escaped me. "Now that’s something I can agree with," I said, my voice more light hearted than it had been in days. "I do not think that you are a monster, Ivar," I sighed, "I just am lonely, and I do not know who to trust." My voice broke at the last words, embarrassingly. As soon as I felt another tear fall, I buried my head back into my knees.

Surprisingly, I felt Ivar's hand on the side of my face, soft and comforting.

Even more surprisingly, I raised my own hand and held over his, leaning into his touch for a brief moment.

I kept my face buried though, meaning that my following words came out muffled and quiet, "even as a Saxon I could not trust anyone, I have never been loved by anyone. Nor have I ever been made to feel safe by anyone. I can't do it anymore."

Ivar didn’t respond right away, and for a long, quiet moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own ragged breathing. The weight of my words hung between us, heavy and raw. The fire crackled softly in the background, its warmth a strange contrast to the coldness that seemed to settle in my chest.

Then, slowly, as though contemplating each word before speaking it, Ivar let out a long breath. "You think I don’t know what that feels like?" His voice was low, rough-though not cruel, not in the way it usually was. He moved closer, though he didn’t touch me, as if to respect the fragile barrier I had put up.

"I’m not a saint," he repeated quietly, almost as if reminding himself. "I’ve been alone too. Longer than I’d like to admit. But you don’t have to do it alone anymore, not if you don’t want to."

I couldn’t look at him-not yet. I felt too vulnerable, too exposed. But the sincerity in his voice made something stir inside me, something I couldn’t name, something warm that conflicted with the cold distance I had built for myself over the years.

"I don’t know how to trust," I whispered, my voice catching as I tried to hold back the next wave of emotions. "I’ve never known what it feels like... to have someone who isn’t just using me or pretending to care."

Ivar’s hand remained on my face, a steady presence in the quiet. "I’m not your brother," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "I’m not here to manipulate you or take advantage of you. You’re not some... pawn in a game to me, not anymore."

The words were simple, but they cut through me in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I let out a shaky breath, willing the tears not to come again, but they slipped out regardless.

Ivar didn’t move, didn’t pull away. Instead, his thumb traced the curve of my cheek, wiping away my tears as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"You’re strong, you know that?" he said softly, his words a steady murmur. "I’ve seen it. In everything you do, in how you carry yourself. The world might’ve tried to break you, but you’re still standing. And that means something."

I shook my head, barely able to choke out a laugh. "You’re wrong," I muttered, my voice cracking. "I’m not strong. I’m just... I’m just tired."

Ivar’s fingers tightened on my cheek, his touch grounding me. "You think that’s all you are? Tired?" He gave a small, almost bitter chuckle, like he was sharing in some private joke. "You’re a Saxon lady, aren’t you? You’re more than that. You’ve survived everything they’ve thrown at you, and you’re still here, still fighting. You’re not just tired. You’re stronger than you think."

I wanted to argue, to tell him that he didn’t understand, that it was easier for him because he had power, because he had strength that I could never hope to match. But when I looked at him, when I saw the sincerity in his eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to speak. So instead, I took a risk. A huge risk.

I felt how close he was beside me, so I shuffled closer towards him and stretched my arms around his torso. He may throw me off, I thought. But I didn't care. It was a risk that I was willing to take. But he did not throw me off.

The tension between us had settled into a strange, unspoken understanding. Ivar didn’t pull away, and neither did I. Neither of us said anything, but the silence between us was different- softer, more fragile.

I wasn’t sure how long we sat there, the warmth of his chest against my back and the steady rhythm of his breath grounding me. He didn’t let go, and I didn’t want him to. I wanted to stay like that, to let the quiet moments pass, to allow myself to feel something other than fear and anger.

And then, without warning, Ivar shifted. His hand moved to my back, pulling me closer to him with surprising gentleness. Before I could react, he lifted me effortlessly, settling me onto his lap. My heart skipped a beat as I instinctively stiffened, but he didn’t force me to move, didn’t demand anything from me. He just held me, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I didn’t protest. I couldn’t. My body, despite the panic that briefly flared in my chest, seemed to understand the need for comfort in a way my mind didn’t. We didn’t speak, didn’t need to. His arms wrapped around me, strong but tender, holding me close but not restricting me.

For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to relax into him. The weight of everything that had happened, the bitterness, the betrayal, the loneliness- just seemed to dissipate in the silence. All that existed was the warmth of his body against mine, the steady beat of his heart, and the sound of his breath.

I let my head rest against his chest, my fingers loosely clutching his tunic as if it were the only thing anchoring me in that moment. His scent- earthy, sharp, and strangely comforting- filled my senses, and I closed my eyes, breathing him in.

It was peaceful. Too peaceful.

And then, I felt it. His lips brushed my head, the kiss so light it was barely there, but it still sent a jolt through me. His lips lingered for just a heartbeat longer than necessary, a soft sigh escaping his chest as he gently rested his chin against my hair. It was such an unexpected gesture, such a small one, but it carried so much weight.

But then, it was as if a dam had broken. Ivar’s whole body stiffened beneath me, and I felt him pull away just slightly, his hands slipping from my back.

“What am I doing?” he muttered, his voice rougher than before. His grip on me loosened, and I felt the shift in his energy. There was a sudden awkwardness in his movements, and then he stood up, carefully lifting me from his lap and setting me back on the ground.

The air between us shifted again, charged with something unspoken, something neither of us knew how to deal with. Ivar didn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he muttered a curse under his breath and stood up abruptly, his crutch scraping the floor as he started to back away.

“I… I shouldn’t have- ” He stopped himself, words halting as he glanced at me, his eyes wide, a mix of confusion and discomfort written all over his face. “I’ll… I’ll give you space.”

Without another word, he turned and left the room, his footsteps fading down the hall.

I sat there for a long time after, the emptiness in the air thickening, as if the silence between us had grown into something more awkward and fragile than ever before.

I didn’t know what to feel. My heart was racing in my chest, my emotions a chaotic mess that I couldn’t untangle. There was something about his touch, about the way he held me, that left me aching for more. But I didn’t know if I could trust that, didn’t know if it was real or just another thing to make me weak.

The next week passed in a blur. I barely saw him. When I did, he kept his distance, his eyes avoiding mine, his movements stiff and hurried. I couldn’t understand it- what had changed between us? I felt as if we had crossed some line, but neither of us knew how to step back over it.

And then, just when I thought I was beginning to understand the distance between us, everything came crashing down.

The night my brother came for me started like any other, with the chill of the air seeping into my bones, the haunting silence of the compound. But that night, the silence was broken by the unmistakable sound of boots and the heavy rush of men.

I could feel the ground shaking beneath their march, hear the angry shouts of soldiers as they closed in. My breath caught in my throat. This wasn’t a rescue. This wasn’t a negotiation. My brother wasn’t here to bring me home. He was here to end me.

Panic flooded me, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, not fast enough. I rushed to the window, hoping against hope that I was wrong, that this was all just a nightmare. But no, there he was- my brother, standing tall in the moonlight, leading his men toward the fortress.

I turned, racing to the door, but it was already too late. The door was kicked open, and Ivar stormed in. His gaze flicked to mine, dark and intense, full of a mixture of worry and resolve.

“He’s here,” I managed to say, my voice trembling.

Ivar nodded, his face hardening, but there was something else in his eyes. Something soft, just beneath the surface. Something I didn’t understand.

“You stay close to me,” he commanded, his voice low but firm. “Do not leave my side.”

I didn’t have time to respond. The first arrow struck the side of the door before I could even react. The next came so quickly that I didn’t have time to move. I felt a sharp pain explode in my shoulder, my body jerked from the force, and I collapsed to the ground.

I screamed as the world around me spun, my shoulder burning with an intense fire. Blood began to spill down my arm, but I could feel the sting of something even worse. Another arrow. Another. Each one buried itself into my legs, pinning me in place. The pain was unbearable.

Ivar’s voice echoed through the chaos, full of rage. "No!" He shouted, and I felt hands lifting me, pulling me out of harm’s way. “Get her to safety!”

But I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I couldn’t hold on. Darkness crept in, and everything faded.

Ivar’s men carried her swiftly to the hidden chambers within the compound. Blood soaked her clothes, and her breath came in ragged gasps. The arrow in her shoulder had missed her heart, but her legs were another matter. She was in danger-of bleeding out, of losing everything. Ivar could barely breathe, his mind racing as he barked orders to his men.

He stayed close to her, his hands clenched in fists, torn between fury and helplessness. He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not like this.

He paced the room, his eyes never leaving her still form as his men did what they could. The chaos outside intensified, but Ivar paid no attention. His only concern was her- her survival.

When the battle outside finally reached its bloody conclusion, Ivar and his men emerged victorious. Her brother, the bastard who had tried to kill her, was captured. Ivar didn’t waste time with niceties. His anger, his rage, boiled over, and he pulled her brother to the front of him.

“You have no idea what you’ve done,” Ivar hissed, his voice full of venom. “No idea what you’ve cost me.”

Her brother dropped to his knees, as he begged and pleaded not to be killed.

Ivar chuckled darkly. “I’m not letting you die quickly. You deserve to feel every second of what’s coming.”

The torture was slow, deliberate. Each blow, each action, was a reflection of the pain that he had caused. Ivar didn’t hold back. He showed no mercy. He did what was necessary. What was right. And as he finally ended his life, standing over him, bloodied and triumphant, he looked down at the lifeless body and whispered, “I love her, you coward.”

Ivar spent the next week by her side, never leaving. He stayed in her room, watching as her body slowly recovered. The wound on her shoulder was deep, but not fatal. The arrows in her legs had been removed, but the pain had left her in a restless, endless slumber. She had still not awoken from her long sleep.

Days passed, and Ivar didn’t sleep. He stayed awake, keeping vigil, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words. The sound of her soft breathing was the only thing that kept him from breaking. His heart was torn in two- half of him wanted to scream, wanted to unleash the fury of the gods for what had been done to her. The other half simply wanted to hold her, to never let her go.

Finally, she stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, but they didn’t focus. She was still caught between the realm of dreams and reality.

“Ivar...” she mumbled, her voice thick and weak. Her hand reached out, her fingers trembling as she touched his, as if feeling for the only thing that made her feel safe.

“I’m here,” Ivar whispered, his voice low, barely audible.

She rambled, her words coming in a disjointed mess, half-sentences slurred by the haze of her fever. "I need Ivar... I feel safe with Ivar.. I love you, Ivar... don’t leave me..."

The words hit him like a thunderclap, his chest tightening as he listened. She was still caught in the aftermath of her injuries, her mind fractured with exhaustion, but her confession- her vulnerable, broken confession- shattered something deep within him.

He climbed into the bed beside her, carefully pulling her into his arms, feeling the warmth of her body, the fragile beat of her heart against his chest. His own heart hammered in his chest as he buried his face in her hair.

“I love you too,” he whispered, the words feeling so raw, so right, despite everything that had happened. “I’ll never let this happen again. I’ll keep you safe, I swear it.” He did know if she could hear him, but he spoke nonetheless.

Her hand curled into his, and she relaxed against him, her breathing finally evening out, though she was still far from fully awake.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there, feeling the warmth of her skin against his.

“He begged me not to kill him,” Ivar murmured, his voice full of emotion, as if confessing to a truth that weighed heavy on his heart. “So I did it slow. He didn’t deserve the quick death, not after what he did to you.”

For now, the war was won. The battle had been fought.

He did not know why he felt so deeply for her. He did not know what would happen in the future. He just hoped that she would not betray him.

#vikings tv #vikings #vikings fanfiction #vikings series #ivar imagine #ivar lothbrok #vikings ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #ivar x you

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phyrestartr · 1 year ago

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PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader | Teaser!

#NSFW in full, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is a performer, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), teaser not edited lmao

Note: This is just going to be a one-shot since it's already pretty much completed, just need to finish off the tail end and then go back and edit. Wanted a break from writing the other stories for a bit, so I hope you'll enjoy the full story when it's out

tags: @better-imagination-9 @better-imagination-9

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?”

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle.

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold.

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him.

“...No proof.”

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you.

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational.

But the last one–

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you.

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the beat up, rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard.

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?”

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought.

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.”

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.”

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.”

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed Words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly.

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly.

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.”

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. Thw fuck did they want?”

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.”

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?”

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest.

“For a kid,” you chastised With a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.”

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.”

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.”

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.”

Man. Man.

“A statement.”

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.”

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up.

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.”

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 4 days ago

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Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Epilogue

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 2588 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together.

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

Y/N stared out over the wide expanse of sea rolled out before her, watching the white curls of waves tussle and crash against each other, against the sand beneath her feet. Sun beams cast the ocean in different shades of green and aqua, of deep blue and clear crystal. The wind was strong but not battering, tugging at the navy cape that draped down her back, pulling at her loose H/C strands of hair. Already filling the sails of the boat Calliope and other warriors readied for its departure.

It was a perfect day in all regards. The perfect day to travel home.

Home. The thought of seeing her mother again made Y/N smile, of seeing M'gann and Connor engaged, Kaldur and Artemis and all the rest. Y/N hadn't realised how much she'd missed everyone until now, how much she actually wasn't ready to never see them again. While Themyscira was beautiful and certainly a place she could belong to, it wasn't her time yet.

Wonderess was still needed in Man's World, and it was time she returned to it.

'You're all set, Princess.' Y/N turned around at the sound of Calliope's voice, facing her dear friend who looked at her with equal joy and sadness. Behind Calliope stood a small group of women, women who Y/N had trained and lived and fought with for months now. Women she loved and trusted her life with. It was hard for Y/N not to imagine those who weren't present then. Celeste, Andromeda - so many more that could've, would've, should've been there to bid them farewell.

All those who'd died had been buried on the tallest mountain side of Themyscira the day after the war ended. Even though their bones were broken and their bodies ached, nothing hurt more than the hearts of those who lived, grieving those that they buried that day.

That was over a week ago now, and here Y/N stood before some of the strongest people she'd ever known, helping her set off on another journey.

Y/N mirrored Calliope's smiled and pulled her friend in for a tight hug. 'Thank you, dear friend,' Y/N whispered, tears threatening to slip out because nothing she could say could express her deepest gratitude for Calliope. 'Thank you for everything.'

Calliope sniffled as she pulled away, her hands still remaining clasped to Y/N's arms. 'I believe it is I who should be thanking you, Princess. Or should I say, Godslayer.'

Y/N rolled her eyes at the nickname. Once word had gotten around that Echidna had died at Y/N's hands, there had been whispers of admiration spread across the island, Y/N quickly being dubbed "The Godslayer". While it was outlandish and slightly embarrassing, Y/N couldn't help but laugh.

'I never want to hear that name again,' she said, but she appreciated Calliope's attempt at making her laugh. While Y/N missed her old home, the thought of leaving Themyscira wasn't one that filled her with complete joy.

To the right of Calliope and the women, Y/N saw Dick standing with her grandmother, having one last chat it seemed before they left. Unlike Y/N - who donned the obsidian armour and leather sandals she wore in the battle, shield and sword at her side - Dick wore his jeans, white t-shirt, sneakers and leather jacket he arrived in, and the queen wore an elegant navy dress with gold bangles and a golden band that sat across her forehead, a star in its centre. Although an ageless woman, the Queen looked withered and more frail than Y/N had ever seen her before. It broke her heart to have to say goodbye, so Y/N said to Calliope in a low voice, 'Look after her for me, please?'

Calliope spared a short glimpse at her queen before turning back to Y/N and nodding. Calliope placed one hand over her armoured chest, resting just above her heart, and said, 'I'll look after them all. I promise.'

That was good enough for Y/N, and so she embraced her friend one last time before granting the same gesture to the other women. Soon enough Y/N stood before her grandmother and Dick. They were just finishing their conversation when she arrived, and both offered her gentle smiles.

Queen Hippolyta opened her arms wide. 'My darling girl,' she said affectionately, and Y/N didn't hesitate to accept the warm embrace of her grandmother. Y/N inhaled the hint of florals and sea breeze that emanated off her grandmother, attempting to savour every second of the moment because only gods knew when a moment like this would happen again.

As they pulled away, her grandmother cupped Y/N's cheeks so she could look her in the eyes. Tears sparkled in the crinkles of the Queen's eyes as she looked Y/N over. 'You have done wonderfully, Y/N. Oh, how you have grown!' Hippolyta let out a melancholic sigh as she let her hands drift down to Y/N's shoulders. 'You are so much like your mother. But I am so proud of you.'

Y/N smiled brightly even as her own tears threatened to spill down her face. 'I am going to miss you grandmother. I am going to miss everyone.'

'I will miss you too, dear,' the Queen said. 'Don't be a stranger now. Your mother, too. Hasn't visited me in half a century now.'

Y/N nodded and laughed. 'I'll be sure to remind her when I get home.'

The Queen went quiet all of a sudden, looking over Y/N contemplatively. Then she let go of Y/N, reaching for the band across her forehead. She easily slipped it from her head, black and greying hair strands falling loosely over her head as she did, and held it before Y/N. 'Here, take it. It is a symbol of your triumph, a force of protection. Thanks to you two,' she spared Dick a grateful glance before turning back to Y/N, 'I don't need it anymore. May I?'

Suddenly washed over with a wave of pride and esteem, Y/N nodded, then kneeled before her grandmother - her queen - and bowed her head.

'Y/N, daughter of Diana, vessel of Artemis and protector of Man's World,' the Queen started, 'I present to you the Crown of Queens, may it serve you as it has served many queens before you.'

Y/N felt the weight of the crown slip over her head until it nestled across her own forehead. It was cool to the touch, but by no means was it heavy. It sat perfectly, as if it had been made for her.

Queen Hippolyta pulled out the trapped hairs until everything rested right, then pulled Y/N to her feet.

'May it also bring you back to us in time,' her grandmother finished off, and finally tears poured down her creased cheeks. 'My dear, brave granddaughter.'

Y/N couldn't help but cry too as she embraced her grandmother one last time, whispering, 'Thank you grandmother. I promise to do my best. For all of you.'

'For yourself as well, I hope.' The Queen and Y/N finally pulled away from each other, tears wiped away but smiles beaming bright. Dick came to stand beside Y/N then, entwining his hand in hers.

'Ready to go?' Dick asked, and the way he looked at her told Y/N he would wait as long as she wished him to. Whenever she was ready, they would go, however long that would be.

It warmed her heart to think she could stay longer, to help with Themyscira's reconstruction, to relax a little more, but she knew it was time to move on.

Y/N turned back to her grandmother and said, 'You'll let me know if you need anything, right?'

'Please do not worry about us, Y/N,' Queen Hippolyta said, gesturing to the loud noise of shouting and construction ringing from the city above. 'We haven't survived for millennia for no reason now. We are Amazons, after all. We can do anything.'

Y/N smiled, happy with her response. She turned to Dick and squeezed his hand as she said, 'I'm ready. Let's go home.'

Just as they turned to step on the boat, the Queen said, 'Look after her for us, Richard Grayson. If not... well, you know what we Amazons are capable of.'

Dick had half a brain cell to look slightly scared, but he smiled his best and waved farewell. 'Have no fear, Your Majesty...' He then looked directly at Y/N, all trace of fear gone and in its place was pure love. 'I know now what's at stake.'

Y/N and Dick quickly jumped into the small sailing boat, its floor space mainly taken up by supplies for the long journey home. Calliope and the other Amazons helped pushed them off the beach and into open water, and soon enough, while Dick manned the steering, Y/N stood tall and waved goodbye to her home away from home. She stayed standing until she couldn't see their faces anymore, then sat down beside Dick who had set the steering so that they sailed in one direction.

'Know where we're going?' Y/N asked teasingly as Dick leaned back against the side of the boat.

Dick shrugged, but flashed her a cheeky grin. 'For the most part, I guess,' he said, resting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes as if he was preparing to fall asleep. 'Even if we don't end up back in America, we'll at least find some sort of land that will have an airport. And then we'll be in First Class heading back to Washington before we know it.'

Y/N rolled her eyes, hitting Dick's vulnerable stomach playfully, causing him to jerk upright into a seated position. 'If that happens, you better be paying. I haven't worked for months now.'

Once Dick recovered from the attack, he held up one finger. 'Correction, Bruce will be paying. Perks of being a billionaire's adopted son, I guess.'

Y/N gave him an unimpressed look that had Dick raising his hands in defence. 'Okay, okay, don't worry, I know where I'm going. Your friends gave us a world map and a compass to work with. And if you remember correctly, I aced orienteering in P.E. class.'

Y/N remembered fondly their days back in school, chuckling at the memories that came to mind. 'Ah yes, the one thing you were better at than me. I got so lost in New York that one school excursion. I burst out crying when you found me and lead me back to the rest of the group. I was so embarrassed.'

Dick chuckled at the memory, but his face softened as he looked at her intently, sincerely. 'Yeah, well, you were always better at everything else. Still are.'

The intensity of his stare had Y/N flushing with embarrassment, but she didn't look away because his cheeks bloomed red too. This caused Y/N to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

'What?' Dick asked, eyes sparkling like the ocean they sailed upon. 'What's so funny?'

Y/N shook her head as she said, 'We're both two idiots, aren't we?'

'If anyone is an idiot, it's me,' Dick offered, taking her hand in his again, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. 'The truth is Y/N... I believe I've always loved you. From the moment you judo flipped me in Bruce's mansion up until now, I think I've fallen in love you a little bit every day. I just... didn't think a guy like me deserved someone as full of light and love like you. So I never entertained the thought further than just being friends. But please know that... no one came close to you, Y/N. Not then, not now, not ever.'

Y/N thought her heart would burst at any second if Dick kept talking so she pulled him in for a heart-pounding kiss, savouring it yet still disbelieving that this was actually happening. That he loved her - he loved her. After all this time, it had always been her for him, and that made her heart soar higher than the seagulls flying near the clouds.

When they pulled apart, Dick said softly, 'I'm sorry again that I made you wait for an idiot like me.'

'It's okay,' Y/N said back. 'You know why?'

Dick raised an eyebrow in question. 'Why?'

Y/N leaned in close, close enough that their noses brushed and they could feel each other's breath. 'Because you are going to spend the rest of your life making it up to me,' she said, pulling away suddenly with a chuckle as Dick leaned in further for a kiss. They both devolved into laughter as Dick jumped up to grab a piece of fruit for the both of them to snack on.

As he sat back down, passing Y/N an apple, he chuckled.

'What?' It was Y/N's turn to be confused, taking a bite out of the apple.

Dick was peeling a mandarine as he said, 'I've just realised something. Our parents are going to be so unbearable when they find out we're together.'

At the realisation, Y/N groaned in dread. 'Oh my gods, they are going to be so unbearable. I mean, how many years have they been saying that we'll end up together?'

'Since we met basically,' Dick answered, eating a piece of the citrus fruit.

'Gosh,' Y/N said, 'I can already hear my mum saying "I told you so!". It's going to be so bad.'

'No, Bruce won't be that obnoxious,' Dick added, 'He'll just smirk that the smug-ass smirk of his and then walk away. I'd rather him say "I told you so".'

'I guess,' Y/N said, looking at the open sea before them and envisioning arriving home to their parents. She envisioned the smiles on their faces, the hugs they would offer. It would be worth the teasing. 'But at least they'll be happy.'

She turned to Dick and smiled as bright as the sun above. 'Just like us.'

'I don't know,' Dick countered. 'I don't think anyone in the history of the world has felt happiness as I do now with you.'

Y/N rolled her eyes. 'Gods! You're the corniest person of all. No wonder all those girls dumped you.'

'Hey! I am a great boyfriend!' Dick argued, pouting slightly at her insult.

Y/N quickly placed a kiss on his cheek as an apology, saying, 'I guess I'm just going to have to find out for myself then.'

That brought a smile back to Dick's face, and Y/N couldn't quite believe that she was the reason. After all the secret glances, all of the silent cries for love, he was looking at her as she had always looked at him.

Or maybe she just hadn't noticed it before. The longing stares, the extra long touches; he was subconsciously reaching out to her with his heart, she had just refused to see the chance he offered her.

They were both fools, but fools in love, and now that they were both seeing with the same eyes, the world was that much brighter and more beautiful.

With Y/N's new power unlocked, she didn't need someone to hold her hand as she took on the world. But Y/N was glad Dick was by her side, that he was choosing to walk with her down this path that could sometimes be lonely and challenging.

Whether it had been by fate or by choice, it had always been Dick and Y/N from the start, and they would face whatever the world threw at them next together, as they had always done.

As they always will.

THE END

~~~

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silverbladexyz · 1 year ago

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*Part 2 is here. Third and final part is here*

Imagine unrequited love with Chuuya.

You didn't mean for it to happen, really. The feelings had just suddenly seized you one day, filling you with a rush of warmth so overpowering that it was certain you could never look at him in the same way again. Whenever he looked at you, with those blue eyes of his that reflected the beauty of the skies and the seas- or whenever he offered his hand to help you with whatever you were stuck on, the very same warmth would erupt in your chest, spreading all throughout your body and ensnaring you in such heat that you would certainly have been crowned the title of Cupid's most lovestruck victim.

And who wouldn't fall in love with Chuuya Nakahara? He was strong, handsome, and rich- three qualities that would've already caught the attention of many people the moment they laid their eyes on him. Despite being somewhat violent and brash towards enemies, he was normally calm and thoughtful, alongside being respectful to anyone he deemed as harmless. Nobody could resist his unspoken charm- with you being proof of that.

But beneath that tough guy mask he showed to everyone was a soul so kind and loyal that anyone would weep at his tragic predicament. A soul that clearly didn't deserve to be trapped in the hellish depths of the Port Mafia, where his hands were stained innumerable times with blood; blood that had no right to belong on the palms of an angel. The very same palms that had held yours as you grew up alongside him all throughout the years, offering a strong and stable sense of support in the abyssal underworld of Yokohama.

You were the only person whom he was softer to. He was still rougher around the edges in the friendship, but you didn't miss the way that he would step in front of you protectively when you met a formidable enemy. Or when he would buy you something you'd only eyed for a second longer, not taking no for an answer as he placed the gift in your hands without expecting anything in return.

Those were only the tip of the iceberg. Chuuya had risked his very own life for you multiple times, even if he had tried to deny it with the statement that he had it all under control. He would also bandage your wounds for you, while scolding you about being too reckless on the mission. You knew that he secretly didn't mind treating your injuries, though. It was what best friends were for, afterall.

It was obvious that you had a special place in his heart.

And he had stolen yours.

You would've confessed to him first, if only he hadn't confessed about something else that made the words die on your lips as soon as it left his.

"Hey, Y/N, can I tell you something? You must promise to keep it a secret though."

You looked up at Chuuya, who was standing with his hands in his pockets. The two of you were currently standing on the balcony of the apartment that the Port Mafia provided for it's subordinates, with the city of Yokohama serving as a witness to the moment between the two of you. A pair of best friends whom shared a bond so deep and precious that it couldn't have been replaced by anything else in the world.

"Of course. You can tell me anything, Chuuya. I promise that I'll take it to my grave." You straightened up from your slouched position on the railing, facing him. Underneath the moonlight, he looked as gorgeous as ever- the epitome of beauty for all mortals to admire. As if in response to the thought, your heart beat sped up, preparing you for the confession you'd tell him after he finished speaking.

Chuuya inhaled a short breath, before releasing it in a quick sigh. You tilted your head, staring at him with curious eyes, despite just wanting to grab him by the shoulders and profess how much you loved him. Surely he must have felt the same way you felt towards him, right? Even Mori had noticed how the executive acted different around you compared to everyone else.

Just say the three words already, you silently begged.

"I like Yasuko."

You blinked.

Time seemed to come to a stop as you wondered if you had heard him wrong. But you knew that you didn't.

"T-The civilian girl that you managed to save from an enemy organisation a few months ago?" You cursed at the stutter, but Chuuya didn't seem to notice. Instead, he seemed to be... shy, almost. The look in his eyes had noticeably softened at the mention of her name- a look that he never gave you in all the years of your friendship with him.

"Yes. She wanted to repay me for my help, and I somehow couldn't say no to her. Then after getting to know her for a few months... I realised that what I felt for her was stronger than what I felt for anyone else. She makes me feel... safe. Warm. Like she was a haven I could always return to." Each word felt like an iron-hot knife being stabbed into your heart, with the blade twisting deeper and deeper into your flesh as you slowly comprehended what Chuuya was telling you.

"... That's great," You forced yourself to say, smiling at him through your pain.

"She deserves someone as gentlemanly and loyal as you. Someone who would never hesitate to put her needs before his. Who would treat her right and make all the other ladies jealous of the pure love you have for her."

Your heart was shrieking at you, pleading for you to stop before all chances you had with him were gone. But you pushed your feelings behind the best-friend mask that you always wore around him. Chuuya's happiness was what mattered to you, even if it meant that you had to suffer for eternity to let that happen.

"You should tell her how you feel. Because I guarantee you that she definitely does reciprocate those feelings." You patted him on the shoulder, before heading back into the room so that he could make his decision.

He didn't know that you had collapsed onto the floor as soon as you shut the door behind him, clutching your chest as it threatened to tear you to pieces because of the pain. He didn't know that you had cried yourself to sleep that night, the hot tears staining your pillow that muffled the sounds of your heartbreak so that you wouldn't alert any of the other residents. And he didn't even need to know, because his eyes were focused only on Yasuko.

He took your advice, confessing to the girl a few weeks later with a bouquet of roses and the finest chocolate that you could find in Yokohama; and just as you predicted, she harboured the same feelings towards him. They were the sweetest couple ever, and your best friend genuinely appeared the happiest that you had seen him. His new girlfriend was nice, polite, and slightly shy- an angel truly fitting for the kind sinner that Chuuya Nakahara was. Hell, you even met her a few times, and any sort of dislike you harboured towards her seemed to disappear whenever she smiled that innocent smile at you. How could you hate her when she never did anything bad to you or your friend?

The butterflies in your stomach now turned to shards that pierced your chest whenever you saw him with Yasuko. Those loving eyes that you had stared at him with were now full of pain and longing, housing a heart of glass that already shattered long ago. Yet you covered it all up with a smile and your usual expression, even when it hurt so damn much.

It was you who stayed by his side when the Sheep betrayed him. It was you who comforted him and assured him that he was human even as he doubted it. It was you who held him close that night when he lost his friends after the Dragon's Head incident. And it was you who never left him ever since he joined the Port Mafia.

But why was it her that he fell for? Someone that he only knew for a couple of months, whilst you had known him for seven years. Seven long years of special camaraderie; of hurt, of loss, and of growth. Things that he could never hope to achieve again with Yasuko.

Was it because you were a killer? A monster that had taken away countless lives, and would continue to do so with no restraint for many years to come? Did Chuuya only decide to stay best friends with you because he pitied you? Or did he laugh about your foolish, helpless self with his girlfriend- his sweet sweet girlfriend that giggled and kissed him happily whenever he pulled her closer in private?

La Douleur Exquise, the French called it. The exquisite pain of pining after someone, knowing that it would never be returned even if you gave up your life for them. How fitting that the language of love would describe your situation perfectly.

Oh, how cruel it was, that fate decided to trap you in it's web of misfortune and laughed at your face as you tried so hard to move on from him.

You loved him dearly, but he would never come to reciprocate that love. How could he, when it was Yasuko that was the one he clearly needed and adored? Just like how a flower in the dark yearns for the light, you yearned for Chuuya to look at you like how he looked at her, even if it was for one second.

But you knew that it was impossible.

Because no matter how deeply you felt about him, his heart would forever belong to someone else.

Someone who wasn't you.

@circinuus @riiwrites @ruanais @sariel626 @chocsra @oldworldpoolhall @yuugen-benni @yasu-masashige @justcallmesakira @heartsfourdazai @i-just-like-goats

#silverbladexyz #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x female reader #bsd x male reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya angst #chuuya x female reader #chuuya x male reader #chuuya x gender neutral reader #unrequited love #... yeah I was in an angsty mood when I wrote this #forgive me 😭

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mochinomnoms · 1 year ago

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Just thinking about ocean things and how twst would be different to our world. Was watching a video of a guy finding hermit crabs using trash as their homes and remembered how I went to volunteer when I was younger to clean up the beach (I had to do volunteer hours for school) and how there was so much trash. Just... imagine going with the mer trio to the beach and it being so clean and going to a reef where everything is so healthy.

I can see MC commenting on how beautiful, untouched, just how clean the beach is. The mer trio would obviously be confused cause most beaches are like this. Even the tourist traps take care in preventing too much trash from getting into the ocean. Too much trash effects the environment plus people live there and think of the political ramifications if land dwellers dumped all their trash on the mer people (or maybe that may have happened in the past but doesn't anymore idk).

Imagine the look of horror on the mer faces when MC tells them about the floating trash island, melting glaciers, and coral bleaching. Oh God and the oil spills! Mer trio would be making sure MC never goes back there

Oh they're for sure horrified hearing about the state of the ocean on our world. It's an awful thing to imagine to them and even harder to comprehend! It's correct that the ocean in TWST is incredibly healthy and beautiful, mostly because of merfolk and land dwellers making an effort to keep merfolks' home undamaged and avoid a war. I imagine something still broke out many many years ago, especially as technology advanced and TWST entered the equivalent of the Industrial Revolution. Ideally, after a brief period of war, more magic was incorporated with technological advances (technomagic) to reduce the negative effects of industrialization on the environment. I headcanon that around this time Ignihyde would've been established as a dorm as it's students are known for incorporating technology with magic.

Moving on from that though, the Octotrio are especially inclined to keep you in their world, especially knowing that your world's oceans are dying. Why go back when you have a perfectly good world here (with them, but they might not mention that last part).

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader

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daisyjonesgf · 1 year ago

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the river (1) // finnick odair x f.reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

the end of a trilogy

the lakes/next chapter

masterlist

7.2k words

warnings: angst, fluff, mental illness, suicidal ideations, self hate, young finnick and reader dynamics, a love triangle that was never a love triangle, smug finnick, it's so cheesey, pining, this is not a slow burn, implied soulmates, unedited, no use of y/n, allusions to trafficking, mentions of torture

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick’s been staring blankly at the hovercrafts’ walls for longer than he can imagine, since it had stopped waiting and left you for dead in the dilapidated arena. He knew if he reacted the way he wanted too they would sedate him and currently he needed to live with his guilt. He should've refused to let you go with Katniss, or have torn out your tracker himself. Most importantly he should never have told you about the rebel plan, of course he only revealed the basics on how you were to get Katniss out of the arena and go to District 13, but that could seriously jeopardize any semblance of sympathy the Capitol would have for you.

He imagined you on the beach, devoting your life and love to him, and how before Snow broke or killed you, maybe even both, he'd never given you a proper wedding. All the traditions from back home, in a proper ceremony, with a dress would never happen. A large part of him didn't even feel like fighting the rebellion for you, since there was a probability that if the rebels one, you wouldn't be there on the other side to greet him. What was the point of a life if your future, the happiness, the children you could have had if all of this was behind you, if you were gone forever.

Plutarch begins to say something, but Finnick raises his hand as if to indicate he can't listen or speak right now. He's trying not to snap, not to take control of the ship so he can immediately perform his own rescue mission. Of course people were going to get hurt, even die, in the cause of the rebellion, but it was never supposed to be you. Why was he cursed to love someone who refused to patiently wait for him, who needed to be a part of the action? That's what had always been so magnetic about you though, the way you refused to fall into any constraints about how your life should be lived. Maybe, if you hadn't been left consumed by guilt after your first Games, you would've heard his plea and helped the rebellion from home, or he would've never told you about it at all to keep you safe. But that was wistful thinking, instead compassionate, worried, steadfast, beautiful you was in the grasp of the Capitol.

He decided he couldn't stay quiet any longer, he doesn't care if it's futile, what type of husband would leave his wife behind? For years you'd been fragile, like a bomb waiting to detonate, and he'd done whatever he could for you, he couldn't just give up on that now. You would have done it for him, you would have thrown yourself out of the hovercraft to save him, and knowing that hurt him and made him love you more. Finnick had spent years trying to prove to you that life was worth living even if you refused to admit that you felt that way, which in truth, caused him to grieve for the version of you from before the Games. The you that longed for a life that wasn't expected, to be lead by her heart and the wind, to be excited, until suddenly it was the you who didn't think she was worth being trusted, the you who stayed up wishing for death, and the you who wanted him, but felt guilty for it. Snow had taken that away from him, away from you, and now would take more from you. Finnick couldn't help but wonder how much was left to take, you had your compassion, your humor, your love, and if that was gone you'd be a husk of paranoia that he would desperately work to restore. Maybe death would have been kinder.

“Communications are down in seven, ten, and twelve. But eleven has control of transportation now, so there's hope of getting some food out." Plutarch says to Haymitch and Finnick can no longer be quiet.

"We have to go back.” His voice is hoarse, cracking with each syllable.

"I'm sorry, you know we can't do that. Her tracker was still in, they've definitely got her by now.” Plutarch tries to sound somewhat sympathetic, but it doesn't work.

“She's smart, she'll think of some way to pretend she knows less about the rebellion. If she can convince them of that, then she'll be used as bait.” Haymitch sounds so sure of himself, but Finnick isn't. You hadn't known too much, but not only were you willing to do anything if someone threatened him, you were like a glass sitting on the edge of the table, with one nudge you'd shatter.

Finnick starts shaking his head, “No, we have to-" Whatever plea he's started to make is interrupted as Katniss bangs through the door.

“Done knocking yourself out, sweetheart?" Haymitch focuses on Katniss, “So it's you and your syringe against the Capitol? See, this is why no one lets you make the plans." He's chuckling slightly, but only Plutarch would also want to laugh right now. “Drop it." He's forced Katniss to get rid of the syringe and sits down by Finnick, who's been infested with thoughts about how if he hadn't let Haymitch convince him of putting Katniss and Peeta first, he could've focused on you.

They're rambling an explanation of the rebellion to Katniss and Finnick is left once again wondering if he could hijack the ship. Snow probably wants him to, expects him too. You probably don't blame him, but Finnick knows your self-destructive ways. First, you'll try to find ways to end it all, and do nothing but mourn him, then you'll start to convince yourself maybe he left you on purpose, that you weren't stable or trustworthy enough to help with the rebellion, but you still wouldn't blame him, you'd tell yourself it's what you deserved. Finnick needed to be there to intercept the doubt before you ate yourself alive. Additionally, he didn't know how long he could last without you as an anchor, his sweet girl, refusing to acknowledge her own problems while trying to keep him afloat.

“I still don't understand why Peeta and I weren't let in on the plan." Katniss is saying, her voice just as broken as Finnick's had been.

“Because when the force field blew you'd be the first ones they'd try to capture, and, the less you knew, the better.” Haymitch explains.

"The first ones? Why?”

"For the same reason the rest of us agreed to die to keep you alive.” Finnick finally chimes in although he resents the words he's saying. He should've instead let you work your magic, try to convince someone to volunteer for him ahead of time, and stayed at home with you. If he stayed there was a higher chance you would too, yet maybe you would've gone over his head and decided you still couldn't live with yourself if you didn't volunteer.

"No, Johanna tried to kill me.” Katniss argues.

"Johanna knocked you out to take out the tracker from your arm and lead Brutus and Enobaria away from you.” Haymitch is seemingly getting exhausted and annoyed from all the explanations he owes her.

“What? I don't know what you're-"

Plutarch interrupts her, “We have to save you because you're the Mockingjay, Katniss. While you live, the revolution lives."

More words are mumbled and Finnick's head buzzes, it wasn't worth fighting the revolution if he couldn't do it with you. There was no way he could stomach it without your help, there's no way you would admit to it, but you kept him from drowning.

The way Katniss hisses at Haymitch helps Finnick zone back in, “Where is Peeta?" She's finally caught on, that her survival is without the person she loves safety.

“He was picked up by the Capitol along with Johanna, Enobaria, and-" Finnick hits the table interrupting Haymitch's train of thought. No one can be outraged at him for long though because Katniss has launched herself at Haymitch, screaming, and scratching, he's screaming back and Finnick is forced to leap into action. Katniss is only doing what he so desperately has been holding back on, how dare these people not understand that you had to be saved too. Yet he's dragging her off, back to her bed, to be tied down, sedated.

“Katniss. Katniss, I'm sorry. I wanted to save all of them, but I couldn't move." Finnick whispers, he doesn't know when he started crying, but he has. When the lighting hit the tree and Katniss' arrow had flown, the burst of electricity had left him helpless, frozen on the ground when he could hear you in the distance, screaming for him. “It's better for him, they'll figure out he doesn't know anything pretty fast. And they won't kill him if they can use him against you.

“Does she know too much or will she be used as bait, Finnick?" Katniss' voice is hazy in the mess of the sedation, but it's clear she's not very empathetic with her statement.

Finnick lets the tears take over him, weeping for you, how he couldn't save you. “I wish she were dead." He quietly admits, probably echoing something you'd agree with. "I wish they were all dead and we were too. It would be best.” Katniss is far gone, but Finnick can't stand his own thoughts any longer. He's basically begging to be sedated until they let him, he wants for it to stop the thoughts, leave him in a world where he's still with you. Even if you haunt his dreams.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

He knew of you, from school, from the similar social scenes, and you were well liked enough, but although he'd never admit it, Finnick Odair had never been confident enough to talk to you. Maybe it's because so many people spoke highly of you, but you'd never approached him. Shamefully he was a passive admirer, watching as you laughed at parties, nursed drunk friends, charmed customers at the markets. Maybe though he was scared that the person who everyone considered genuine would reject him as a person worth being around, see him the way he saw himself.

One sunny day in the market though he decided he had to take the step, see if were really the way people described you as, and possibly put to rest the infatuation he'd had for you. One that had really sparked when one of fair-weather friends, Beckett, had mentioned how you'd basically saved his life when he was drunk by a dock after another party. Kind, but brazen especially when Beckett tried to pay back the favor the next day by walking you home. Eventually the same night he told Finnick about you, he'd left to find you at the party and your magnetic company. You just seemed to draw people to you, a charm that Finnick couldn't resist much longer.

So there you were, flashing your tooth bearing smile to every potential customer. He'd talked to plenty of pretty girls before, but usually they introduced themselves to him, and the fact he barely existed to you certainly made you more intriguing. The moment the customer you were with was gone he forced himself up to your booth, one that was full of crates with huge crabs.

“Most of what the Capitol serves is from here anyways, so it's certainly not a downgrade." Your sweet, peachy voice spoke first and Finnick was somewhat taken aback, unintentionally sending you a quizzical look. “The crabs." You smiled, probably wondering why he didn't pick that up the first time.

“Oh, yes, of course, the crabs." He feigned interest in one, picking it up.

“You know, if you're not here for the crabs you better say something before I start listing off facts." Finnick decided he wouldn't mind that, your voice soothed his ears, but more importantly he'd been given a piece of who you were.

“Who says I'm not here to talk about crabs?" His natural playfulness shined through any persona he was scared he would have to put on if you weren't like he'd been told about, observed. For less then a second there was a flash of what must have been embarrassment in your eyes that quickly subsided with a shrug of your shoulders.

“They're caught in the-" Finnick couldn't stop himself from laughing when you diligently started on your promised list.

“No, please, you'll bore me to death. Guilty as charged, I'm not here to talk about crabs." He put down the crab he'd been holding, hands in the air.

You leaned on the counter, hands propping up your face, “Okay then, what are you here to talk about, Mr. Odair?"

“Finnick." He said almost too quickly for his liking, “Just wanted to talk to you." It was cocky the way he said it, but he couldn't help himself when you seemed so ready to bite back.

“Flattered, Finnick." You paused, like you were waiting for him to say something, “I'm working."

“And I'm a customer."

“Are you planning on buying anything?" Your hands moved from your face to the counter top.

“Maybe." He shrugged, his usual smug smile making its appearance.

You sighed like you were defeated, but your body language said otherwise. Maybe you'd wanted to talk to him just as much, but he'd been the one holding out on you. He'd like to think that even if it was presumptuous. “So, what does the Finnick Odair want to talk to me about?”

He didn't really know what he wanted to talk about, just that he wanted to talk to you. "The party, tomorrow night, are you coming?” It was a stupid question, you were at all of them, but much to his amusement you shrugged.

"Depends.”

"Depends on what?”

“Do you want me there?" You were bold and your aura exuded that even though if he stared deep enough into your eyes he could sense it hid other feelings.

“Are you flirting with me?" He clicked his tongue, head shaking as if it wasn't what he wanted.

“No."

“I don't believe you."

“Well it's your party, your house, I'm just asking permission." Your eyes widened, feigning innocence, and he decided you were nothing in short of perfect. Maybe he was just clouded because someone finally wasn't oooo’ing or ahhhh’ing at him. Or because he'd admired you from afar for so long that anything you said would be enough to draw him in. He also didn't really care because he'd made up his mind about liking your presence, more than that off any of his fickle friends.

“You've never asked permission before." The look on your face told him he'd caught you, that was your brain racking for a response before your face could slip back into its soft smile.

“You've never talked to me before." Maybe your words were even, but the way you fiddled with your necklace spoke measures to him.

“So you just show up at the houses of men you've never talked too?" Finnick teased, but he knew you'd always had plenty of invites from other people unlike the crazy fans who'd try to push their way into his home. Regardless, the parties were a way for him to keep up Capitol appearances and drown out his sorrows, so extra guests with actual connections to his social group hardly bothered him.

“If you wanted to talk to tell me it feels like I'm intruding, then you can just come out and say it. I get it and I won't go." You maintained a somewhat playful sound, but were so genuine it shocked him. So willing to give up your entire social scene if it made him slightly uncomfortable.

“No, I do want you there." He felt like he said it much too quickly, but he didn't regret it when your smile widened.

“Okay." You bit your bottom lip when another presence was ducking into the booth beside you. The local healer who whispered something to you. “You know you can have as many as you want for it, we can't thank you enough." You said earnestly. He handed you a couple of bottles of some type of medicine that you shoved into a netted bag before grabbing him a smaller box.

“Four or five?" The man said quietly and you filled the box with crabs before handing it to him. “Thank you, now you tell your mom I wished her the best and let me know how she's doing."

“Will do." You smiled as the man scurried off. “Sorry about that." Your attention was back on Finnick.

“Is your mom not well?" It was an obvious question but he wanted to show he cared, you just waved your hand in dismissal.

“She's okay, don't worry about it." So he respected the fact you didn't feel like opening up about it and moved onto playful banter again. “If you want me there and already knew I'd be there, why are you talking to me now?" You led the conversation back and it was obvious to him that it was a sore subject, perhaps you were one of those people who didn't like to trouble others with their problems.

“I can't talk to a pretty girl?”

"You talk to pretty girls all the time, Finnick Odair, and you've never talked to me before.” Your hands settled back up to support your face.

He leaned in closer, “Don't tell anyone, but maybe I needed to hype myself up before I talked to the prettiest one." Your laugh was addictive and he wished he could've seen more of how your face scrunched up when you buried it in your hands.

“God, you're treacherous." One of your hands decided to nervously play with an earring and the other went back to the necklace. “I bet that's what you tell all the pretty girls." Finnick's ears were blessed with another nervous laugh.

“Just you." He winked, grateful that he'd found an easy rhythm in talking to you. You were teasable, but would bite back, for the first time in a while he was glad he trusted his observations.

“You know flirting with the girl at the market to get free food only works for people not famous all across Panem."

“Good thing that's not why I'm flirting with the girl at the market then."

Your face was once again buried in your hands with a giggle, "You're dreadful. Is this how you usually entrap a girl, don't speak to her, and then it's all sweet talk?”

Finnick wished he could say it's because seeing you around gave him unexplainable butterflies deep within his stomach, but that wasn't a very suave explanation. “I had to make sure you didn't have a boyfriend first.” His voice was low and he could tell it was giving you goosebumps, or maybe you were just cold in your sundress.

"Oh, you're bold." You guffawed, “Besides you already have a hole in your story, there isn't a single person anyone would think I'm dating.”

"That's a bold-faced lie, sweet girl, most people think you do since he's always trailing around like a lost puppy.” If he was lucky you would melt at the pet name and you somewhat did before you scoffed.

"Who?" You didn't seem like the oblivious type, but so earnestly confused.

Finnick's eyes dragged over to a nearby booth where the subject stood, sulking and your eyes followed, “Looks like he might attack."

“Conway?" You shook your head so earnestly it made Finnick feel like he could blush from how ardently you wanted him to know you weren't taken. “No, no, no, no! God, no, he's just my friend. We're friends.”

"Have you told him that?” He smirked.

You were so cute, when you were biting back, when you were nervous, when you were embarrassed, he didn't know how a person could manage to be so adorable all the time. “Yes, he knows that, he's just, well he's just Conway. It's just a phase, he'll grow out of it." You rubbed your neck as a much more forced laugh escaped those perfect lips.

“Hopefully, looks like he's coming over to rip my throat out. Please come to my funeral, front row, no roses on the coffin, lilies preferably." Finnick pulled a faux terrified face as he clasped his hands together with his plea, successfully turning your laugh into a much more genuine one.

“Hi, Princess." Conway approached the booth and Finnick wondered how you could ever think he was getting over you. Behind the brunette's back he shot you a look, teasing you for as much which you seemed to instantly understand as you bit your lip with a shrug.

"Hey, Conway. You guys finished up?" You asked, that dazzling smile on your face.

“Yeah, mom was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight? Nixie and Delta had something they were excited to show you.”

“Yes of course! Tell them I have something for them too, and I'll meet you guys after I've dropped everything off at home."

“I'll walk you."

“I'm gonna walk her home." Finnick seized the opportunity, even if you said you were just friends he couldn't let himself lose the build up he was working for. Conway looked at him like he'd forgotten he was there and was angered to have remembered. “If you want me to, do you want me to?" Finnick looked back at you and you genuinely had a look of complete confusion.

"I always walk you home.” Conway said softly and Finnick wished he felt worse for interfering with another person's love, but he couldn't help that he felt a spark just by looking at you and fireworks in your presence.

"You wanna walk me home?” Your eyes were glued on Finnick, like you thought he'd just been bored and was going to leave after finding his enjoyment in flirting with you. He wanted to get inside your head, see why you were so vulnerable, prove to you that you deserved to feel better about yourself.

"Of course I do, sweet girl.” His voice was less focused on being charming and so earnest it rewarded him with the happiest, biggest smile he'd gotten out of you.

“I'll walk you home after dinner though, that way you're not walking home alone in the dark." Conway inserted himself once again and after a pause you shook yourself out of whatever haze you were in to turn to him.

“Thank you so much, you're so kind, Conway. Either way I still have to wait until everything closes or I sell out, so it could be a while."

“Oh, mom sent me over to buy the last half crate for dinner tomorrow,we've got some extra wiggle room, and we're all tired of trout and crawfish all the time. So a little something special until I'm sure we'll all get tired of the leftovers. Do you want to come tomorrow too?" He pulled out the money from his pocket to slip into your hand.

“Lucky you, I hope you all enjoy it!" You took the money to put into the small metal box where you must have been storing the cash. “I've got plans tomorrow or else I definitely would." You picked up a box to move the crabs into.

“Is there a party? You should've told me, mom won't want me to miss tomorrow and you'll have no one with you."

“Conway, as much as I appreciate the sentiment, I don't need to be watched over. I'm perfectly capable of myself." You handed him the crate, “Besides you hate going to them and I don't want to drag you to one just for you to mope in the corner."

“And I'll be there anyways." Finnick raised his hand as if to remind everyone he was still there and you did seem to soften when you looked at him.

“Yeah, Finnick, will be there. I'll be fine!"

Conway took a step closer to you as he filled his box, trying to whisper, but it wasn't hard for Finnick to eavesdrop. "You barely know him.”

You glared back at Conway and mouthed a ‘Stop it!" The much taller man seemed to reluctantly relent as he stepped away. “I just have to close everything up then, and I'll be ready to go." You look back at Finnick who nods and smiles.

“Let me help you."

“Oh no, you don't have to do that!" You quickly assure.

"Angel, I want to.” You seem to respond well to that pet name as well whereas Conway is instantly glaring into Finnick's head. He doesn't mean to be cocky, but Finnick can't resist a cocky shrug to the other man the moment you're going to retrieve your bag and the little metal container of money to shove into it. Finnick’s nimble fingers are quickly undoing the ropes holding the top up.

You exit the structure and walk up to him, “How'd you do that so fast, the knots always take me forever to undo."

Finnick can't hide his amusement with your awe,"Always been good with knots, I could show you sometime.”

You're nodding in agreement when suddenly your mouth is agape and you're playfully shoving him, “Finnick Odair, I hardly know you!"

“That's not what I meant, honestly!" He defends, laughing, and he's being truthful. It hadn't crossed his mind when he said it, he would love to show you how to tie a rope, he'd always found it calming. “Says a lot that your mind jumped to that though." He tilts his head and the way your eyes widen makes him wish he could feel how hot your face must be by now.

“You do barely know him." Conway mutters and Finnick wishes he would disappear.

You seem to regain your composure and point to the left, “I'm about 30 minutes that way, so you really don't have to walk me home if you don't want to, it's long."

“Stop worrying about me, I'm certain I want to walk you home."

You're nodding softly and biting your bottom lip, "Okay.” Swiftly you're leading the way, both men trailing behind and Finnick is annoyed that Conway is still sticking around, before he realizes his family's booth is in that direction. Suddenly you're stopping before basically leaping towards a booth, a fruit booth Finnick recognizes. “Douglas, you have peaches! Why didn't you say anything?"

The older man chuckles and gives you a knowing look, “Because you can't afford them and will barter me for them."

You gasp in mock offense, “So rude and after all this time too, Mrs. Damaris would be astounded by your behavior.”

"You know if you sneak me a couple of crabs tomorrow I'd give you a whole bag.”

"Your father would be angry-” Conway begins some sort of lecture when you're snapping at him like you'd also like to be rid of his presence.

"I know, Conway.” The look you shoot at him could kill, and Finnick feels a weird sense of elation knowing you're more peeved that Conway won't let you be alone with Finnick.

“Then I'm sorry, sweetheart, nothing's going to work on me this time. I've prepared myself."

Finnick is already pulling out his money, “It's okay, I've got it."

“No." Your resistance shocks him, he's used to people begging to be around his wealth and to charm you he's more than willing to she'll it out. “You're not buying things for me, Finnick. I'm serious." He says nothing, but doesn't return his money back to his pocket.

“Come on, princess, you'll live without one." Conway manages to still sound so kind and you purse your lips, refusing to satisfy the man you feel pestered by with a response. Finnick is busy trying to silently communicate with the vendor that whatever you try to barter he'll give him the money right after.

“My ring?" You hold up your hand, waving the finger around and the older man shakes his head.

“I can't accept every piece of jewelry you find on the beach."

You sigh dramatically and Finnick thinks he's finally been able to indicate to the vendor. “Mrs. Damaris would love this necklace, look it's got an actual ruby in it and I didn't find it. Someone gave it to me, it's worth a lot more than a peach and I only want one.” The man reluctantly exhales, glasses at the end of his nose, “Please Douglas, we barely ever get them here.” Your pout has to make you even more adorable and Finnick wonders how you can be so perfect.

“Fine!" The man grumbles with a sly smile and Finnick can tell the man would've taken the necklace even without the money he was about to give.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You gush as your fingers rush, struggling as you unclasp the necklace. Putting the necklace on the counter as the man hums. You take your time picking out the perfect peach before grabbing one, “I love you so much, Douglas, Mrs. Damaris is a lucky woman!" You began to walk off.

Douglas nods, “Sure she is, take care of yourself and bring some actual money next time." The moment your back is turned Finnick is putting the money on the table, with a little extra.

“Thank you." He mouths with a smile, grabbing the necklace.

“No, thank you. I've got no use for the necklace, or anything else she's given." The old man is shaking his head with a smile, grabbing the money. “You take care."

Finnick nods, catching up to you where he can hear another tense conversation between you and Conway. “God Conway, it doesn't matter. Tallulah gets me a gift every time I take care of her during a hangover because she feels bad, it doesn't matter. Yes it was pretty and I really liked it, but I'll tell her it fell off in the ocean and she'll buy me a new one.”

"You're just so careless sometimes, it's a fruit.” Conway shakes his head in disbelief.

"And it's just a necklace, what's your problem? It's not even from you, and it's not a big deal. I liked it, I'll probably miss it, but I might not have a peach for another year and Tallulah will have given me another gift by the end of the week for the hangover she'll definitely have from tomorrow night.”

"She's not a bank for you, and that trade was so uneven.”

"Why are you trying to make me feel guilty? That's not how I see her, I've been her friend for years and it's just how we work! You're being so weird about this and it's none of your business. I don't take her money, or ask for it, or let her pay for things, she just gives me them when I help her out!” Finnick finds himself being enraged at Conway for the way your voice shakes as you defend yourself, for the way he's making you seem selfish when you adamantly refused to let Finnick buy you something as small as a piece of fruit.

Finnick is suddenly standing beside you holding up the little heart necklace, it swinging in front of your face. You stop dead in your tracks, “Finnick." Your voice is so soft it makes him want to melt, "You don't even know me, Finnick. I don't need you to buy things for me, you don't have to do that. I traded it for a reason, go give it back.”

"He's much happier with the money, anyways, sweet girl. I have enough money to drown in, you're hardly breaking the bank with a peach. And I know you enough to want to do that for you. Can't a man buy things for a pretty girl?” You look like you might cry, but you don't allow yourself too and Finnick comes to the conclusion that you're not used to being helped, to have someone willing to just do things for you without some sort of transaction involved, and he's intent on changing that. "Red looks good on you, angel, let me put it back on you.” You're playing with your earrings as you finally slowly turn to let him clasp the necklace on. He adored the way you shiver when his fingers brush against your neck as he puts it on and the way you seem to miss his touch the moment it's gone. It's like fate designed the two of you to meet each other, to be perfect for one another and he's only just forced himself to talk to you.

He also gets a sick pleasure from how vexed it makes the other man vying for your affections. Within a few more steps you've arrived at the Delmare family booth and they're ecstatic to see you before they've calmed down. “I'll see you tonight?" Conway asks.

“Yes, of course." You offer a smile even though Finnick can tell you're still seething underneath and Conway nods somewhat sadly. You turn you back to him as keep walking, “So are you-"

“Yes, I'm sure I want to walk you home!" Finnick interrupts with a laugh and you accept the answer and finally begin to eat your peach. “Let me take your bag." He offers, hand reaching for it.

"It's okay I've got it.” You must have decided you're able to slip back into your normal playful tone, and he curses Conway in his mind for making you anxious enough to ever stop in the first place, “I know you must be used to women throwing themselves at your feet, but we are in fact strong enough to carry our own bags."

“You have an indent in your shoulder from it." He remarks, with what he's sure must be an infuriatingly smug smirk. You don't look at him as you seem to reason in your head that it is quite heavy and slowly pry it off your shoulder. He's grabbing it from your hand before you're even reaching out and although it's nothing for him, he's surprised by the weight. “Good thing I want to carry your bag even if you're a woman throwing yourself at my feet." He clicks his tongue as the two of you stroll down the cobblestone street.

You elbow him softly, “I'd say you're throwing yourself at mine."

“I'd agree and say I'm glad I am."

“Finnick." Your voice is suddenly much more serious.

“Yes, angel?"

“Seriously, why are you talking to me?" He assumes you must be trying to protect yourself and it hurts him to think you'd ever imagine that his intentions were anything less than true.

“Because I like you."

You laugh so delicately it could be carried into the breeze, “No you don't! We've never talked before, I mean you don't really know me at all."

“So you don't like me?" He teases, a glimmer in his eyes.

“No, I do, I mean, I just, that's different." You stutter through it, hands moving as you speak.

“How's it different?"

“Because you're you, you're Finnick Odair, everyone likes you and if they don't they're stupid. And I'm just, I mean I'm just some girl, who you've been trying to fluster."

“People talk about you too, I see you around, listen to you, what you say, what people say about you, and I've decided that I like you. And I think that if you didn't want to be flustered, you'd tell me. That's it, that's the explanation, and I'm talking to you so I can really know you.”

There's a silence where you must be deciding if you're satisfied with his answer, "What do you want to know about me?” The walk to your house seems to go by too fast with the stories and banter, the way you sass him back and then get ruffled when he makes flirty remarks before you make them back, and the way you savor each bite of that peach like you'll never have one again, which he'll make sure you will. He's already mourning your company when you're walking up to the door, “This is me, I know, it's not much to look at." It's a dilapidated little house, cracked, white brick and he can tell it used to be nice. You're slowly walking up to the door and he hopes you feel the same way he does.

"Go out with me tomorrow.” Finnick says abruptly.

"What?” You turn to him, trying to not act as giddy as he can tell you are.

"Tomorrow, just you and me, an actual date. It's a Sunday, so the market will be closed. We can picnic by the water, there's a lovely, private piece of beach in Victor's Village and we'll swim, we can do whatever else you want too.” He tries to sound nonchalant as he runs his hands through his hair.

"Okay.” You nodded, fingers running up and down the chain on your necklace. "Yes, I'd like that.”

"Okay, good, that's good.” He doesn't mean to seem desperate for your time, but he is. “I can be here at noon? I'll walk you."

“Yeah." You muttered, by now you're both standing at your front door. Staring at him and he prays you'll never go inside and just stand here with him. “My bag."

“Sorry, yes, your bag!" He pulls it off his shoulder and feels more embarrassed than he ought to be, “Sorry!" But you just laugh it off as he hands it to you.

"It's okay.” You're back is to the door, slowly pushing the handle. He wants to kiss you, but he's already moving so fast with everything else, he figures that he better let you have something to wait for even if it's disappointing to you know, it disappoints him too.

"I'll see you tomorrow, at 12.” He reiterates, feeling like a magnet being pushed away from his other half as he steps away, ready to fly back forward.

You do look somewhat let down as he moves away, but he has to be resilient,"Thank you, Finnick! Have a good night.”

"Have a good night, sweet girl!” He flashes his Panem adored smile and forces himself to turn his back towards you. Finnick decides he's glad he listened to the caverns of his soul when they called him to you. He can't help himself from being so forward with you when he's already so sure, like he's been with no one before, that you must be meant to be and he's running back to the marketplace praying that Douglas hadn't yet closed down shop.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Doctors occasionally hover above him and the ceiling is white, which is all he knows when he's in his sedated state. Sometimes they let him be without, but he can't process their questions, not when he's thinking of you which sometimes leads him back to being sedated when he starts lashing out at the nurses and doctors. Screaming, insisting you need to be saved. He's not sure when he asked, but at some point they give him a piece of rope which he diligently ties knots in to calm himself. It always seemed to work until he thought about how hard he tried to help you master different knots, but your hands would fumble. At some point he'd become sure that you did it on purpose so that his fingers would be by yours and his back pressed up against you, but he didn't care, it was heartwarming. Then he would fly into a fit again.

The same thing had happened when they'd brought him some type of dry oatmeal usually with a mix of berries that made it barely tolerable, once he could've sworn he caught a whiff of peaches in it that had him desperately trying to inhale the scent. Sobbing over the bowl until his nose was so stuffed he could no longer smell it, smell you and the sobbing became too uncontrollable. The doctors couldn't calm him down and he was once again sedated.

For weeks that's all his life was. Haunted by you, what could be happening to you, all the things he missed about you and trying to stay calm enough that he wasn't being restrained or returned to a cloudy state. Although the sedation sometimes brought back good memories he could dissociate into, other times all he could picture were all the things the Capitol, that Snow could be doing to you.

What if you were still being sold off like some kind of doll on top of what you were having to endure. And you'd have no one to comfort you at the end of the day which would drive you to insanity. Or he could picture you hypothermic on the floor. Or being taunted with jabberjays screaming in his voice. Or it could be a violent torture. He could picture thousands of unpleasant things that made him wish the rope was long enough to be a noose.

Sometimes he'd picture the last time he saw you, begging with him to not be upset when you parted ways with Katniss' insistence. Each time he thought about it he'd come to a different conclusion. Most of the time he blamed himself for letting you go, for not fighting harder to stay together or not tearing out your tracker right before you left even if it alerted someone of the plan. Sometimes he'd blame Katniss for forcing your hand in the first place, why couldn't she have just followed the plan that had been so carefully structured out. And on a rare occasion he blamed you for trying to follow the objective of keeping Katniss safe and leaving him, for not remembering to take out the tracker, for not keeping your promise. Which would then make him sick with himself for thinking anything slightly negative about your actions when you were probably enduring unbearable lengths of pain for him, for the rebellion.

On the lucky occasion where he wasn't heavily sedated he'd been anxiously tying small knots into the rope when the television began playing some mandated report from the Capitol and there was Peeta. Proclaiming how he and Katniss knew nothing about the rebel plan, that Katniss had coincidentally shot her arrow into the dome when the lighting struck, and how there needed to be a ceasefire. Finnick wished he hadn't told you about the rebel plan, that you would just be bait, not someone trying to hide that they had some semblance of information regarding the rebel plan to get out of the arena. He'd signed your death warrant and delivered it straight into the Capitol's cold hands.

Finnick got swept up in his thoughts of what he could've done differently, how much he despised himself for not doing so when suddenly it was your voice on that television screen.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

so exited to start the river with you guys and to explore reader and finnick's past more. thank you all so much for the endless support and for continuing to read my little series, ily all. as always reblogs, comments, and likes are super appreciated, and my ask box plus request are open even if they take a hot second more me to get through. again endless thanks to you all and love you 💋

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