#the limb that's facing the back of the stage

[openphrase123]

watsonian vs doylist explanations

a watsonian explanation is how a character in a piece of media would explain a plot point, and a doylist explanation is how someone outside the universe would explain it.

so what's the watsonian explanation for why siffrin's left eye is gone?

well, first we can assume that healing craft can't cure disability - there are characters in chairs and without limbs in the game, so this makes perfect sense (and disability-healing magic is boring anyway)

second, why not his right eye? you could write a million what-ifs about this. maybe the sadness was trying to get bonnie on their left side, and when siffrin pulled them away, that's what was facing the attack? the possibilities for this are near endless because the game doesn't spend a huge amount of time on details of the attack past how it made bonnie feel

i prefer the doylist explanation for why it's the left eye, though, because it's a rare case where the doylist explanation is more poetic and thematic than the watsonian explanation.

siffrin's left eye is the one the sadness got because it's his downstage eye.

[whateveriwant]

The 141 getting you to stay in bed

It gets a little spicy towards the end so 18+ please

Soap

Waking up to the feeling of a numb arm is extremely unpleasant, but you suppose it comes with the territory when trying to cuddle 200+ pounds of rugged Scotsman

You manage to free your trapped limb and roll to the other side of the bed, but that space behind you remains empty for only about three seconds before Johnny's pressing himself flat to your back 

Now with his arms around your waist, he holds you tight to him, mumbling unintelligibly against the back of your head

He drifts back to sleep quickly enough, his grip on you starting to loosen, only for it to tighten again when he feels you try to wriggle out of his hold

The incoherent grumbles from his throat grow increasingly displeased the more you try to shift away from him, until finally he huffs a grumpy, “Quit it,” into your scalp, hooking his leg over yours 

If you still don't listen, he'll have no choice but to take drastic measures to keep you still. Fed up with your squirming, he simply rolls on top of you, pinning you to the mattress below him

You can try beating on his back, telling him that you can't breathe, but he just shrugs and says, “Use my breath.”

Don't even bother trying to explain how oxygen doesn't work like that, because he doesn't care. “Tough,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck. “‘Cause I'm no' movin’.” And by extension, neither are you

Gaz

Kyle is also a stage 5 clinger, but he's less boa constrictor and more baby koala

So when your alarm goes off at 8am precisely, it's no surprise that the man behind you grumbles in protest

“It's Saturday,” he bemoans. “Why you getting up so bloody early?” When you tell him you like to keep your routine even on the weekends, he just groans and mutters, “Five more minutes.”

You can try to squirm and wrestle out of his hold, but he'll just tighten his arm around your midsection, keeping his front firmly glued to your back

But you need to get up! You have to pee for goodness’ sake! 

“Use the empty bottle on your nightstand,” he mumbles into your hair, peeking an eye open as you crane to look back at him. The look you give him at such a horrid suggestion has him sighing. “Alright, fine,” he relents and releases you. “But be quick. Bed gets cold without you.”

Once you've answered the call of nature, don't be surprised to find Kyle waiting for you directly outside the bathroom. He's wrapped up in your comforter like an oversized burrito, only his face and feet visible as they peek out from under the plush cover

With a sleepy pout, he holds his hand out for you, tugging you back to bed with him. Oh, he’ll make sure you get those five more minutes alright. Even if he has to drag you kicking and screaming

Ghost

First of all, don't even kid yourself into thinking you'll stand a chance of waking up before him or sneaking out of bed without him knowing. This man is the epitome of a light sleeper, whenever he does sleep, that is

So when you do finally wake up, it comes as no surprise to see Simon already up too. But just because you're both awake now doesn't mean you have to immediately be productive; quite the opposite, in fact

With how busy and stressed he is all the time, Simon loves nothing more than to just lie in bed with you and do nothing for hours

If you try to get up, he's stopping you with a gentle hand on your wrist, his voice quiet but firm as he commands, “Stay.”

You'll lay back down for a bit to appease him, but it won't be long before you feel guilty since you have so many things you should be doing instead

But actually, no, you don't have  anything to worry about. He's already taken care of everything before you woke up, he humbly informs you

The cat's been fed, the bin’s been taken out to the curb, he's even gotten your breakfast typed up on his phone – just give him the word and he'll place the order

So now when he opens his arms for you, having you bury your face in his chest, you've got nothing to worry about except savoring this moment with him 

Price

John is also a very light sleeper, so it only takes .02 seconds of you trying to stand from the bed for his bear-like snores to cease and his eyes to flit wide open

He'll grab you by the shirt hem, mumbling, “Where’re y’ goin’?” But it doesn't really matter what your answer is because his response is always the same: “No y’r not.” And pulls you back down. “Y’r stayin’ right here.”

He'll lie on his stomach, face smushed in the pillow, a big, warm hand tucked under your shirt resting against your belly

With nothing better to do, you scroll through your phone, catching up on your socials, the news, etc., but it's not long before you hear him grumble, “Put that away, will ya? ‘S too early to be meltin’ your brain with that thing.”

Well, what does he expect you to do? Lie there and stare at the ceiling for an hour? “Expect you to be good,” he tells you. “Don't make me get the handcuffs out again.”

Now that you have to laugh at. If he thinks it's too early to be on your phone, it's definitely too early for that

He smirks, opening his eye just a sliver, and the hand on your stomach begins to rub soft circles. “Is that so?” he taunts, his touch sneakily edging downwards. And when he slips beneath the band of your shorts, well…

Let's just say you're not leaving that bed anytime soon

[foldingfittedsheets]

I grew up lucky for a queer person. My area wasn’t actively hostile to me. My parents accepted the news that I had a crush on my best friend with no major upset.

There was homophobic comments made in my household in line with the era, but without hatred behind the words. I got called “lesbian” by bullies but honestly it just rolled off of hurtful and hit funny.

That’s why I was so ill prepared for my move to Arizona. I was moving to live with my at-the-time girlfriend, Taylor. She was native to the state and I’d met her while living there for one miserable year in high school. I’d had a crush on her for ten years before we started dating.

In the process of moving my parents were helping by driving a uhaul with my stuff while Taylor and I drove down in my car. It was a two day drive and we rolled into my new city one warm desert evening. We stopped to get some water and wait for my parents to catch up in the uhaul.

We got out of the car, stretching our achy limbs and heading toward a little fast food place in the strip mall. Across the parking lot a group of men started hooting and whistling at us. Words like “beautiful,” and “come here” drifting along the still evening air. We didn’t react and they grew louder until I casually flipped them off.

The tenor of their calls changed instantly. Now we heard “dykes” and “bitches” and “teach you a lesson”. For the first time, I felt afraid to be walking along in a lit parking lot. I looked at Taylor and to my horror she had started to turn in their direction.

I grabbed her arm and she shook me off. The men were moving away but I didn’t want to see a fight or worse break out if she caught up. But Taylor wasn’t heading to follow them. She was arrowing toward the truck they’d been lounging across.

“What are you doing?” I asked her anxiously.

For answer she reached for guys front tire and started letting the air out. A nervous giggle escaped me and I stood to keep lookout. She had the front two tires done before the trucks owner came storming across the parking lot.

“You should have just slashed them!” he snarled, “Woulda been faster.”

Taylor rose and coolly said, “That’s destruction of property, I was just checkin’ your tires, bro.”

Emotions flitted across his face from surprise to rage but after a moment he mastered his anger and said, “Okay. I get it. We were out of line before.”

He held out his hand as if to shake hers and I tensed. His eyes told a very different story than his mouth. Taylor casually flicked his air cap at him and it bounced off his chest. We turned and walked away without another word.

It was my first night in my new town. The scene would set the stage for later interactions. People who would ask me if I couldn’t empathize with parents who kicked their gay kids out for spreading sin. I’d go on to be followed and harassed on more than one occasion. That night showed me how privileged I’d been and how vulnerable I was at the time. But I at least had the satisfaction of thinking back to that man filling his tires back up with air.

[tasteracha]

a/n: when my angel @astraystayyh asks me for something i deliver. or make an attempt to. anyways please watch this before reading. warnings: subby hyunjin, mentions of alcohol, smut - MINORS DNI.

you loved all the colors of hyunjin. how could you not?

the deep shaded power with which he dances, sweat dripping off his temples and a fierce look in his eyes that only show when he’s on stage or pounding into you late at night. the carefree pastels that breeze through his hair when he has a day off, spending all his spare time with you with your fingers interlocked like he would lose his way otherwise. the soft mauves and grays of his sleepy eyes in the morning while you draw your fingers across his scalp, tracing along his nose down to his lips to feel the plushness underneath your skin. 

but the one that holds a fonder space in your heart was the one you were looking at now. his face is painted with the brushstrokes of a glass of wine, redness on his cheeks and stained across his lips. he’s warm, you know he is, even if you haven’t touched him yet. your own half full glass sits forgotten on the nightstand, the heat from the alcohol just enough to burn at your stomach and scorch high on your cheekbones. 

he’s talkative, speaking about everything and nothing while he holds you in the palm of his hand with just his eyes. soft giggles escape his lips, given to you freely despite how precious every sound that comes from his lips are. you take his hand in yours, finally drinking in the warmth of his palm as you hold it to your lips for a chaste kiss. it was innocent, a helpless motion that you don’t even realize you’re doing, but the look he gives you in response is anything but that. his eyes darken for a moment before he groans, sliding onto his back and stretching out his tired limbs. his cardigan rides up, exposing a sliver of his shoulder, taught skin over hard muscle, and you can feel your mouth begin to water. 

he’s left with his head tilted back, his neck a blank canvas begging to be colored by you, and your heart begins to beat faster. 

“god, i love you,” he turns his head towards you, letting his hand fall onto his stomach right above the waist of his pants. his legs are spread, beckoning you to fill the space between them. “did you know that?”

he’s not drunk, at least not from the wine. he’s drunk off of you, the mere presence of your body in bed with him is enough to make him lose a bit of his sanity. 

it’s not as if you’re any better with the way your body is singing for him. 

“yes, silly boy,” you smile, leaning over him to brush your lips against his jaw. “you only tell me every day. it’s not as if i could forget it.”

you throw your leg over his and slot yourself into the space that he left for you, and for the first time in the night he is silent. he watches your every move and his breath hitches when you place your hand next to his, ghosting across the muscles rippling on his stomach. 

“i love you, too,” you lock your fingers with his, squeezing them together. “do you want me to show you how much?”

he barely gets time to breath out a yes before you’re leaping forward, kissing him with a passion that never depletes no matter how much time passes by. he opens his mouth for you and you take the invitation, sliding your tongue against his. you can’t get enough of his taste, wine and his cherry lip balm and him. you move your lips down to his neck, biting sharply then soothing the spot with a lick. his arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer to him, but before he can get too far you take his wrists into your hands and pin them to the mattress at his sides. 

“keep these here, okay?” he nods so quickly that his hair shakes with the movement. satisfied, you sit up and slide down, dropping to your knees in front of him. freeing his cock from his pants comes more easily to you than breathing, the movements committed to memory like the way his feet move when he’s dancing. you leave his pants hanging off of his knees, too impatient to maneuver them off of him. 

you take his cock into your mouth, sucking lightly and hollowing out your cheeks. you look at him through your lashes, and the innocent look paired with the obscene sounds coming from your mouth making him growl fiercely. he reaches his hand towards your head, moving to card his fingers through your hair.

“darling, you’re so-” he cuts off when you pull away, fixing him with a look. 

“what did i say?” you move your eyes to his hand, still hovering in the air by your head, and he drops it back to the bed with wide eyes. 

“good boy,” you smirk when he shudders, giving him a moment to adjust before going back down on him. you lick a stripe up your hand to ease the slide of your hand on his cock, pairing it with sucking and licking at his head. you take him a bit deeper and you can feel his hips shift. the muscles on his stomach ripple in restraint, and you feel a swell of pride at him doing what he’s told. 

he’s so good to you. 

“where do you want to come?” you move away, leaning your head on his inner thigh as you lazily pump your hand along his shaft. he’s been so good, he deserves to make this choice. 

“i- what?” his eyes are hazy, your words not registering in his pleasure soaked brain. 

“on my face? in my mouth?” your breaths his hit exposed skin and he twitches, his bottom lip capturing between his teeth. “it’s your choice, baby. your reward, for being so good.” 

in truth, he’s barely done anything to deserve a reward, but the fondness you feel for him makes you want to praise him over and over. 

“in-” he clears his throat when his breath catches. “in your mouth, darling, please.”

you run a soothing hand down his thigh but it does nothing to calm him down. you shake your head fondly before taking his cock into your mouth for the last time. you speed up, sucking harder than before, going deeper, moving your hand in a flurry. the sudden change of pace makes him release a series of noises that make your head spin. little whimpers mix with soft moans, and he throws his head back as his entire body goes taut. strands of white paint the inside of your mouth, and the taste doesn’t bother you because it’s him.

you keep him in your mouth, swallowing his release around him and suckling him clean until he starts to whine in sensitivity. he releases his hands from their invisible prison and pulls you up and close to him, tucking your head into his neck and wrapping his arms around you. his hold is so tight, like he’s afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t hold you in a death grip. 

“you?” he whispers, stretching his languid body underneath you and sliding one hand down to cup your ass. 

“i’m okay, you can pay me back later,” you giggle against his neck and he sighs, his entire body going slack as he lets himself relax in his post-orgasmic bliss. 

“did you know that i love you?” he says against your hair, and you snort out a laugh. 

“do you want to do this again?” you roll your hips against his softening cock and he squeaks, tightening his arms around you even more than they already were. 

the sound of your shared laughter echoes through the room, taking the shape of affection that doesn’t need to be spoken.

[earth2steve]

eddie ramblings from my notes app: vol 2

18+, fem!reader

eddie smiles at you exactly the same way over a bowl of cereal that he does when he's between your legs and it is absolutely, positively ruining your life. 

he high fives you when he comes off stage with the same routine as he does when you both collapse side by-side on the mattress. calls you sweetheart in public with exactly the same tone as he does when you’re sticky in his lap. 

something awful flutters around in your chest when he does it now, sidling up beside you on a bench outside your work in a mess of too-long limbs and clunky jewelry. 

“what flavor?” his eyes track your mouth around a piece of bubblegum. 

you poke the piece of chewed up purple out of your mouth in lieu of an answer, and then he’s moving too fast for you to stop him. one big, ringed hand grabs you softly by the cheeks and squeezes just so, and then he’s reaching forward and fishing it from between your lips; tossing it past his own. 

you have the decency to look disgusted. eddie just grins. 

“gross, eddie.”

“gross!” he shrieks. “gross, she says.”

he leans in, kisses you so hard your head hits the window behind you. there’s a track of dried spit on your cheek when he pulls away. “i’ll give you gross.”

“you’re a sicko. we're in public." you emphasise, shoving him back and grabbing your bag from the seat beside you. "do you get off on embarrassing me, or something?”

a smile splits his sun kissed face. “mhmm. makes me all tingly inside."

“shut up,” you push your things into his arms and move for the door, thinking of ten different ways you'll get him back when you're alone. “gimme a sec and then we can go — i gotta use the bathroom.”

a searing look in his eye, the same one as when his chain dangles in your face.

“can i come?”

[peachysunrize]

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, angst, fluff and tension! English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 6.5k+

Taglist: if you want to be tagged in the future chapters, please fill this form with your @/usrname!

A/n: sorry for the delay, BUT I THINK YOU WILL LIKE THIS ONE!!! Comments and reblogs are reallly appreciated🥺💕

-> series masterlist <-

Chapter 5: kissing his heart

A mess.

That’s how you feel, that’s how Aemond is.

Denial.

You deny the existence of your feelings towards Aemond and he denies the truth that you still believe he is in love with Alys. Because he is not, he might think about her from time to time but he isn’t in love with her anymore.

Aemond is up early again — early after a rough night of drinks and thinking nonstop means somewhere around noon — which is still earlier than when the entirety of the household wakes up.

He stretches his legs, groaning as the muscles clench and unclench, his limbs tingling with exhaustion from the lack of sleep. Aemond sits up on his bed, running a hand over his face and thinking about how much he needs to discuss with you later today, or anytime you allow him.

He stands up, grabbing his hair tie before he walks towards his bathroom, pulling his hair up into a man bun as he pushes the door open to get ready for the day. After taking his prosthetic eye out, he cleans the empty socket with gauze and the medicine he’s prescribed, untying his hair and hopping under the shower. 

He stands under the running water fully naked, and the image of your blown-out pupils and swollen lips makes it hard for him to contain himself, but soon, that image is replaced with the memory of your teary face, and how broken you sounded — he wanted to run after you last night, he wanted to explain, shout and tell you he isn’t in love with Alys anymore.

He leans his head back, and the warm water hits his face and drips down his Adam's apple, trickling down his throat on his chest. He feels each droplet of water on his skin, and thinks about his actions; was he leading you on unwillingly? No, he is awfully smitten with you, so bad that when he thinks of your smile the heat spreads from his chest to his cheeks, leaving him all red and blushing.

His pain is fresh, the gaping wound is still bleeding. Being stood up on your wedding day is not something you can forget so easily. He still feels the agony he did on that day, but not that intensely, and certainly not how lovesick he felt about Alys. 

He will always think about her, more so about how she left him than the good memories they made together, but to say he is in love… has he ever felt what real love feels like? Was it how Alys’ responses to his actions made him nervous? How much he felt he needed to prove to her that he was good enough? Was it just that? The fear?

He doubts it Because thinking about you is enough to calm his nerves, and he doesn’t need to worry about whether he is enough or not. All he needs to do is to come clean and reassure and reaffirm his feelings and commitments to you.

Love is a strong word to use when it comes to these early stages of your relationship, but he likes you, a lot.

After the long shower he takes, he wraps the towel around his waist while he dries his hair with another one. He grabs his fresh and clean clothes and drops them on his bed, loosening the towel that sets low on his hip bones so he can put his boxers on, the other towel hanging from one of his shoulders while he puts on his sweatpants.

“Aegon!”

Aemond hears his mother’s screams, rushing out with haste after he puts his eyepatch on in a hurry. When he opens the door he sees his mother pacing around with Cole trying his best to calm her down but it’s all in vain.

“What’s going on?” He hears you say, and when he turns around, he finds you walking out of your room to the highway. Was your room always next to his? How is he just finding this out?

He so shamelessly eyes you; your night shorts cling to your thighs so deliciously, and your top sticks to your chest in a way that has Aemond swallowing harshly before he is forced to avert his eye. But he catches you doing the same, finding you drinking in the sight of his exposed chest and wet droplets that fall from the end of his hair on his abs.

You both look away, clearly flustered and shy from the moment of silent flirting in a room full of people. 

“I can’t find Aegon!” Alicent strokes her neck, her nails scratching the soft skin while she walks frantically around, “I searched the entire house for him! He is nowhere!”

“Daeron might know—“

“Daeron… where is Daeron?” She turns around suddenly, her big brown eyes filled with panic as she looks at Criston and in an instant, he reaches to hold her arms gently.

“We’ll find them, now breathe, please…”

“No, what if Aegon has done something again and now they’re not okay?” 

“Mother,” Aemond nods at Cole before he reaches to grab her elbows, looking into her eyes, “I will find them both, alright? Don’t worry, Cole and I will bring them before you know it.”

“Please go find them, Aemond. Your brothers lack self-control and they make my blood pressure go high—“ 

Aemond chuckles and nods, “Take the girls down, we’ll find them and join you, yeah? Don’t be too hard on yourself, Mum, you’re doing fine.”

“Yes, okay, alright…” she reaches to bring him to her height, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead before she looks at you and tells you to get ready for the day.

“Yes, Ma’am!” You smile at her, waiting for both Cole and Alicent to go, leaving you and Aemond alone in the hallway.

“I missed your eyepatch,” you say quietly, a small yet awkward smile on your lips as you try to break the tension.

“Temporary,” he says, clearing his throat as he watches your smile falter because of his short answer, and he mentally face palms himself for not doing his best in showing his interest clearly, “I— wait!”

You quickly walk into your room, and he groans in annoyance as you slam the door shut, not allowing him to say even a word. With a loud sigh, he goes into his room as well, grabbing an oversized T-shirt to put on before he leaves and goes to find Aegon and Daeron.

Aemond makes his way to the guest wing, the entire house is covered in empty cups and crumbs of food, and more importantly, he finds Daeron dropped on top of Aegon, both snoring loudly and drooling while they sleep.

“Why am I not surprised?” He asks, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stares down at his brothers, “wake up,” he yells, but they don’t budge, sleeping soundly.

“Aegon, wake the fuck up,” he grabs the closest cup that is filled with water and splashes it on Aegon’s face, causing the older brother to sit up abruptly, gasping as he knocks the youngest off of him. 

“What is your fucking problem?” Daeron asks in a raspy voice, coughing a bit as he realizes how much his throat might be hurting with all the screaming from last night.

“My problem is that Mum has been searching for you fuckfaces since she’s woken up. You better get up and show up for breakfast so she doesn’t freak out any more than she already has.”

“You’re her favorite, tell her—“

“As if,” Aemond scoffs at Daeron as he strides toward his brothers and grabs them by their necks to pull them up, “come on, let’s go. And…it’s not me. Helaena is her favorite.”

“He’s right—urgh, don’t pinch me!” Aegon whines when Aemond pinches behind his ear, “Was she mad?”

“No, just ready to give you one of her most heartwarming smiles,” Aemond pushes them both out of the guest wing, smirking when they both stumble and groan.

“She’s going to murder us in cold blood then,” Daeron fakes a cry, knowing how Alicent gets when she’s nervous — deadly, that’s how she gets, and for some sick and twisted reason, Aegon and Daeron love to toy with that side of her.

“Good morning, ladies!” Aegon announces as they step inside the kitchen, watching how Alicent smiles and cocks her head to the side, eyeing the two Targaryen boys.

“Not sure if it was a good one for you,” Aemond’s head turns in the direction of your sound, finding you leaning on the counter with two cups of coffee in hand, wearing a floral dress Helaena had gifted you when you went on your shopping dates a few weeks ago.

He watches as you hide your eyes from him before walking towards him, giving him a tight-lipped smile and handing him his coffee, slowly meeting his gaze when he reaches to grab the cup handle, his fingers brushing over yours a bit, sending jolts of joy through his body.

“Don’t be mean to my brother!” Helaena says as she jogs into the kitchen, her white hair flowing around her shoulders, but stops abruptly and looks around the room, narrowing her eyes at Aemond, “Did you not have a good sleep?”

“Noooo, princess, this douchebag—“

“Not you, him…” Helaena cuts Aegon off but she smiles at him and lets him pull her closer for a hug, pressing his cheek to hers as they both — and everyone in the room — stare at Aemond.

“What?”

“You look like you’ve broken up with your girlfriend,” she says, her eyes following as you take a step away from Aemond and look down at your feet, clearly flustered.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he wants though, he desperately wants to have you as his girlfriend, “and you’re right, I didn’t sleep well because I had a headache.”

“A headache wouldn’t make your eye swollen,” Helaena shrugs and with a kiss on Aegon’s cheek, she approaches you, standing in front of you as she stares at you in a not-so-calming way, “You too… you look like you’ve been… crying yourself to sleep.”

“Can you stop being creepy for a minute and let us drink our coffee in peace?” You ask, glancing at Aemond who looks away immediately after he catches your gaze, looking down at his coffee cup while you try to distract Helaena from the awkwardness and undeniable tension between you and her brother.

“I’m not being creepy!” 

“Then what do you call it?” Daeron asks, resting his chin on the back of his hands as he looks at Hel, “because it’s fucking creepy when you just say these things out of nowhere.”

“It’s called intuition! I’m not trying to scare anyone, I just… I feel it in my bones that something is wrong with these two—“

Suddenly she looks at you, her amethyst eyes wide and blown with the realization. She clears her throat when her eyes fall on Aemond’s flushed cheeks and your slack jaw.

“I’m gonna make myself some tea…” she whispers, giving you a very quick nudge, “we’ll talk later.”

“Yeah, later,” you nod hesitantly, biting the inside of your cheek as you follow her movements, stealing glances at Aemond who is doing the same, making the room’s atmosphere more tense than it already is.

“What’s today’s plan?” Daeron looks around, waiting for someone to answer.

“I say we should head to the storage to bring out more beers—“

“Over my dead body,” and you all turn to Alicent who’s been watching all of these interactions silently, sipping on her hot tea, “today, you two—“ she points at Daeron and Aegon, “will clean the guest wing. I want it spotless.”

“That’s torture! Mum—“

“And Aemond will keep an eye on you.”

“What?” It’s Aemond’s turn to ask, his good eye widens in surprise, “I’m not their babysitter, I have a lot of stuff to take care of.”

“No, not today,” she says, “and you girls… you can do whatever you want, you’ve been good.”

“Awe, thank you so much, Mummy,” Hel blows Alicent a kiss, walking back towards you to loop her arm around yours, “c’mon. Let’s go to my room.”

“Told ya she’s her favorite—ah! For fuck sake can this family stop smacking my head?” Aegon whines again but ultimately melts under the kiss Alicent presses on the crown of his head, “Alright, I’m convinced.”

“Spotless,” she points at Daeron and then Aemond before walking out of the kitchen.

“Where are you two going?” Aegon asks and looks at you and Hel.

“Girl talk, no assholes included,” Helaena pulls you after her, giggling a bit as you pass Aemond and Aegon.

“Girl talk without me? You know my tits are nicer than hers, right?” 

“That’s not gonna work on her, you perv!” Helaena turns around and glares at Aegon, “Only dumb girls around you would give in and show you their tits.”

“They actually try to prove you wrong?” Aemond scoffs, and you snort at his tone, his eye locking with yours when you laugh at what he said, and in return, he gives you a small and heartwarming smile.

“You fucking genius—“ Hel pulls you out of the kitchen, not letting you listen to the rest of the conversation.

“Get inside, shoo shoo, go!” She pushes you slightly inside, “You better talk, babe. Cause I’ll be pulling words out of your mouth like a vacuum.”

“I think I like your brother,” you blurt the words out, slapping your palm on your mouth as soon as you realize what you just said, “shit, ignore that—“

“I knew it!” She squeals, putting her cup of tea down on the closest table she can reach, “see? I wasn't being creepy! I knew something was up, I knew it!”

“Really, Helaena?” You scoff but chuckle at her enthusiasm, “I just told you I think I like your brother and you say you ‘knew it’? What exactly do you know thanks to your so-called intuition?”

“Not much, but I know Aemond is not someone who cries a lot unless he is in horrible pain. Now you tell me what happened last night, please.”

“I fucked up,” you shrug, hands joining to show how stressed and on edge you are, “that’s what I did. I fucked up our friendship, I fucked up this whole thing between us. I just… I messed it up so fucking bad, Hel.”

“Oh, baby, come here,” as soon as she opens her arms, you throw yourself between them and let her lead you to bed, holding you close as you make yourself comfortable on the pillows, “You did not mess up anything. Aemond is a tough person to read, sometimes you can’t get through his walls.”

“But… that’s the thing… I read him, and-and I told him that he still loved Alys—“

“What? When did you say that?” She asks, squeezing your arms, “Details, babe, give me all of it.”

“I was in his workshop, I know I shouldn’t have but I was pretty tipsy! So… he found me there, one thing leads to another… and…”

“And…?” she urges you on, holding her breath in as she waits for you to talk.

“And we kissed—”

“You kissed my brother?” she asks, pushing you out of her arms a bit while looking at you with her huge confused, and awfully bright eyes, “and you told him he loved Alys?”

“Babe, I’m so fucking sorry, I know I overstepped, I should have never ever kissed—”

“Hey, hey, no, come here,” she brings you back in her arms quickly, shushing your sobs as best as she can, “I didn’t mean it like that! You didn’t overstep, babe! It’s just… Aemond isn’t a person who would go around and kiss women left and right! So if he has kissed you…then he is pretty serious about you.”

“I just—don’t wanna be his rebound because he is hurt his fiance left him! I…want more than just being a quick fuck for him.”

“First of all, we ain’t gonna talk about my brother’s sex life,” you snort and she laughs, threading her soft fingers through your hair, “Secondly, I don’t think he believes you are just a hookup to him. He holds grudges quite well, he may forgive but doesn’t forget. So, my point is, he is no longer in love with Alys, and probably holds a deep gut-wrenching hatred for her, but she was also his first love, his… first everything.”

“You’re saying that his feelings are gone?” you ask, your voice smaller than before, “because…what we have is so different from any relationships I’ve ever had! It’s a mutual understanding, a friendship I cherish a lot.”

“I don’t know about his feelings, but I can feel and see that he no longer holds romantic love for her. Alys was the reason Aemond moved out, she persuaded him to become independent stand up on his own feet, and not be like Aegon. But I’m just an observer, I see it from outside, and I can feel it.”

“Your intuition telling you there is nothing to worry about?” you ask her hopefully, wiping the remaining tears off your cheeks before you hold her hand in yours and sit side by side with her.

“Yup, but you two need to have a long talk. Let him say his piece, or else I fear he’ll go crazy,” she squeezes your hand before jumping off the bed, “Turn on the TV, babe. I’m going to go grab some snacks so we can watch a bunch of sad rom-coms and cry.”

Hel walks out of the room, humming to herself as she makes her way to the kitchen. As soon as she steps inside, she finds Aemond leaning on the counter with his face between his hands.

“Hey…”

“Hey, Helaena,” he gives her a small smile, “What are you doing here?”

“Grabbing something to eat and knock some sense in you,” she explains, crossing her arms over her chest, “why do you make things difficult for yourself?”

“Because it’s better to be ready than not even think about the outcome,” he shrugs and gives her a confused look, “what are you even saying?”

“I’m saying that you don’t need to be so hard on yourself! The answer is right in front of you,” she says, pulling out a bag of chips but Aemond’s voice stops her.

“Let’s say… I like someone,” he starts, glancing at Helaena who turns around with a soft expression on her face, “and… fresh out of this mess, I am serious about whatever is going between us.”

“But…?” “But I’m not good at voicing my feelings, and I’m afraid I’ve screwed my chance already,” Aemond sighs, biting his lip in frustration, “I…I want to be with her, but I’m terrified that I can’t show her how much I appreciate her.”

“All she needs is some reassurance that you are no longer in love with Alys,” she walks to him, rubbing his back lovingly. “Talk to her, drive out of here, and take her somewhere beautiful and romantic. Make her feel special because I’m sure she is special to you.”

“Thanks—” “Don’t hurt her, Aemond, and don’t let her hurt you either.”

A day or two passes by, and finally after gathering his courage, he asks if you’d like to go to the nearby beach. Helaena agrees on your behalf immediately, dragging you upstairs to get you ready before the sunset so you can arrive there just on time.

Aemond, in all of his glory with his loose gray dress pants and his olive-colored shirt — first two buttons were undone — looks nothing compared to your beauty when you walk downstairs.

Aemond takes off his sunglasses, swallowing harshly as he takes you in; you’re wearing a white maxi skirt with a blue crop top and Helaena’s heart-shaped sunglasses — which he’s sure Hel forced you to wear. You look ethereal, with sunlight shining on your hair and a shy smile on your face when you notice how he’s staring at you with his jaw on the floor.

“Oh,” he clears his throat when you push the heart-shaped glasses on your head, rocking on the balls of your feet with your hands behind your back, “you look…wow.”

“Thank you,” you say, clearly flustered and smiling, “you don’t look too bad yourself, Little nerd.”

“Thanks, come on, I… I wanna take you somewhere,” he rubs the back of his neck, looking at you a bit hesitant, “Of course if you want to—“

“I agreed to come, Aemond, of course, I would want to. Lead the way please,” you wait for him to take you to his car, but unlike the Chevy Camaro you rode from his house to here, he leads you to a silver BMW 507 that you have never seen before.

“This is gorgeous,” you say in awe as you skim your hand over the hood of his car, “I had no idea you owned such a babe.”

“My uncle bought this for me,” he says, following you as you make your way to the passenger seat, opening the door before he holds your hand and helps you in the car.

“Daemon? Really?”

“Oh no,” he shakes his head, “Uncle Gwayne, Mum’s older brother.”

“I’ve never met him, but this is such a gorgeous gift,” you watch as he rounds the car and gets in the driver’s seat, turning the car on before his hands grip the steering wheel and he backs out of the parking, opening the gates with a remote.

You close your eyes and let the wind blow through your hair, and Aemond glances at you, a ghost of a small on his face while he keeps looking between you and the road.

He sighs, the beach and the wharf coming into his view and he mentally pulls himself together and takes a few deep breaths to collect his thoughts and get ready to talk to you. He parks his car and helps you out of the car with your hand in his.

He doesn’t step back when you stand in front of him, his face inches away from yours while your body is caged between his body and the car. He can feel your chest moving with each breath you take — which is now more than normal and he is near losing his mind.

“Come,” he lets go of your hand and shoves them in his pockets, his hair framing his face and shoulders as he watches you walk side by side with him.

“This is so beautiful, Aemond, thank you,” you give him a reassuring smile as if you notice how stressed he is.

“Nothing is as beautiful as you…” he whispers, watching as you look away from him immediately, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from grinning while he curses himself under his breath, thinking how much of an idiot he is for saying this.

“Yeah…” you fiddle with your fingers, “did you enjoy the party?”

“I did,” he confirms, his eye locking with yours as you reach the beach, walking on the soft sand, “I enjoyed it a lot.”

The way he looks at you is enough to set your heart ablaze. His stare is heated, and he knows for sure you’re aware of what he is thinking about.

The kiss that left both of you breathless.

The kiss that had your hearts beating in sync.

The kiss that left you with teary eyes.

The kiss.

That is all the two of you were able to think about.

“So…” you start, kicking the soft sand with your sandals, “you said you wanna talk about something…”

“Yes, urm…” he takes a deep breath, “I want to explain something, and…and I hope that we can work on…”

“Us,” you finish his sentence, nodding in understanding, “we will work on us.”

“When you said that I love Alys, at first I thought you were being impulsive, that…” he inhales sharply, “that you wanted an out because… because our kiss was a mistake.”

“You think it was a mistake?” You ask suddenly, stopping and grabbing Aemond’s forearm, “What do you mean it was a mistake?”

“No!” he replies, shaking his head as his eyes widen in terror that somehow he messed up again, “No, no, darling, not at all! I meant that… I thought when you said I love Alys was because you realized that our kiss was a mistake and you regretted it! I thought it was the best kiss I’ve ever had…”

With the last part, he takes your hands in his, and brings them up to his lips, and kisses your knuckles a few times, smiling softly at you.

“Really?” “Really,” his flushed cheeks match your flustered expression, “When you said those words… I thought about it a lot, and…and you’re right,” your smile falls but he is faster and pulls you closer, bringing your fists to his chest as he kisses your forehead, “I love her, but not because I think about her romantically. I love her for making me realize what I’ve been missing out. Five years of misery and never have I ever felt such strong emotions toward her that I do for you. I love her in a way that I’m thankful for those experiences she and I went through because all of those moments led me to you.”

“Aemond…” you flatten your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

“I think about her because the wound is still fresh because sometimes I’m reminded of the way she made me feel on my wedding day, I think about the moments I thought I was in love but in reality…I just wanted not to be left alone. And now… It’s not like that with you,” he rests his forehead on yours, both of you closing your eyes to let yourselves be consumed in the moment, “I’m not in love with her, there is only one place in my heart and that belongs to you.”

“I’m so sorry, little nerd, I—” “Shh,” one of his hands cups your cheek, and he leans down to brush his nose against yours, “I’m sorry for not showing how much you mean to me, I do better, I promise.”

“Kiss me,” you say, breathless and teary as you crane your neck, your breaths mingling together as you whisper again, “Kiss me, Aemond.”

“With pleasure.”

His lips meet yours in a slow yet passionate kiss, and once again, your taste makes him dizzy with need. This time the desire is stronger, and he can feel your desperation too with how you lick his bottom lip and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.

You whimper when he bites your lower lip, pushing his tongue inside your mouth as soon as you part your lips and give him access. He sighs into your mouth as he kisses your breath away, angling his head to taste you better and breathe in your scent more.

“Show me,” you break the kiss, pecking his cheek as you whisper in his ear, “I need to feel you, please, show me.”

“Come with me,” he kisses the tip of your nose before he laces his fingers through yours.

“Where are you taking me, sir?” You ask with a sultry voice, ���Hopefully not to your car because I would hate to drive back and have your family catch us.”

“Absolutely not, my darling,” he pulls you with him, watching as the sunset’s pink hues fall on your face, creating a soft halo around your face and he suddenly pulls you in for a kiss, surprising you. You kiss him back with a chuckle, smiling against his lips as he keeps pecking your face.

“What was that for?”

“You looked so beautiful, I couldn’t resist,” he says, helping you up on the stairs of the wharf, leading you towards a yacht you’ve never seen before.

“If you think you can woo me with your money, Aemond Targaryen, you are so right!” You look at the huge yacht, finding a captain standing and waiting for you.

“Well then I’ve brought you to the best place,” he shakes the captain’s hand, “We won’t be needing your services today, sir, thank you.”

He helps you on the yacht, joining you quickly so he can show you around but you stop him, pulling him downstairs towards the few doors you spotted earlier.

“We’ll see the rest of the yacht later, take me to the bedroom right now,” you bite your lip when he smirks at you and pulls you towards a door, pushing it open before he enters the room.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks, keeping his eyes on you as you make your way to the bed, sitting on the edge of it.

“I want you to show me how much I mean to you.”

“And how do you want me to do that?” He asks, resting his hands on the bed next to your thighs, leaning down so his face is only mere inches away from you.

“You can start with getting on your knees,” you push him down with your hands on his shoulders, giggling softly when he raises his not-damaged eyebrow at you, “don’t keep me waiting.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, taking his sunglasses off his head and dropping it on the floor, grabbing your ankles to slowly pull off your sandals, kissing his way up under your skirt.

He mouths at the flesh of your thighs; kissing, nibbling, and sucking as he draws an invisible path towards your clothed pussy, his head swimming with lust as he gets to be so close to you, closer he has ever dared to imagine.

He gives a quick kiss to the wet spot on your panties, hooking his fingers in the hem of the fabric before he pulls it down, humming as he exposes your heat to the chill air of the room. Aemond kisses your mound, trailing the soft pecks down to your buzzing clit, and as soon as his lips press against the nerves you arch your back.

The sigh you let out is enough encouragement for him to keep going, and he does — he presses open-mouthed kisses on your cunt, sucking and licking in a way that has your mind melting beneath his touch.

“I need to see you,” you tell him, wiggling a bit to push your skirt down. Aemond, more eager than you, detaches himself from you and pulls your skirt off roughly, grabbing your thighs tightly before he dives in, more starved than before.

He wants to go rough, taking and feasting on you like a dog in heat, but not now. He promises to give you an orgasm that makes you feel fuzzy and warm all over. You will have enough time to make memories later…

He laps lazily at your folds, his nails digging into your hips as he runs the tip of his tongue over the bundle of nerves, picking up his pace.

You fist the sheets with one hand while the other goes to his soft hair, pushing your fingers through the silky silver strands as he fastens his movements, his tongue drawing wordless apologies on your wet pussy lips, poking your entrance from time to time — his pace is dizzying, and you crave more and more of his attention to be on you, to show his care for you.

And who is he to deny such a sweet request?

He brings one of his hands down when you whimper ‘more’ and gives him the go. His thumb rubs slow languid circles on your clit, making you close your thighs around his head, back arching off the bed.

Aemond lets his finger gently caress your dripping hole, pushing the digit in slowly, before he starts thrusting it in and out, curving it a little so he brings you closer and closer to your high. While he adds another finger, he attaches his lips upward, sucking on your nerves quite harshly, leaving you a hot mess as you moan and chant his name while he feasts upon you.

“Fuck, Aemond, more— I need more!”

He smiles against you, his nose buried between your thighs as he starts fucking you harshly with his long and thick fingers, curving them enough to nudge the sweet spot inside you with each thrust.

With each filthy sound that echoes in the room, you gasp and cry out for more, a relief only he can give you, and he will give it to you gladly — he keeps his lips locked to your cunt while his fingers prod and scissor you open for him, making you ready to take him.

“Ae-Aemond! I’m close— so-so close!”

“Mhmm, go on, darling, come on my face, I want it, I need it,” he mumbles against your pussy, keeping his fingers knuckles deep inside you while his other hand comes to rub quick little circles on your clit, “Give it to me, beautiful, do it now.”

And you do; you come with a shuddering gasp and a loud broken moan that makes Aemond nearly lose his sanity and empty his balls in his pants like a virgin teenage boy.

He keeps thrusting his fingers inside you slowly as he crawls on top of you, kissing you a bit with your arousal glistening on his chin, helping you ride your euphoric orgasm.

“Are you alright? Do you need a minute?” He asks, pulling his fingers out gently as he gazes down at you, “We can stop right here.”

“I think I will die if I don’t get to have you now.”

“That’s quite the exaggeration, is it not?” He kisses you, waiting for your breathing to calm down a bit, “Don’t worry, beautiful, I’m no better than you. I will probably die if I don’t get to be inside you in a minute.”

“Then take off these clothes and get on the bed!” You whine, pulling on his clothes and he takes them off without any further hesitation, dropping them on the floor next to your skirt, breathing in sharply when he looks down to see you shedding your top and lying down beneath him stark naked.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he mutters and bends down to kiss you and help you lay upper on the pillows with him making a home between your thighs.

“Have you seen yourself?” You smile at him, reaching between your bodies for his now painfully hard cock, squeezing him a little before stroking him a few times, “I will sue you if you ever wear clothes around me from now on.”

“I could say the same about you,” he leans down, holding himself up by his forearms next to your head, “Clean?”

“Yeah…” you reply shakily, guiding the red tip of his cock to your entrance, holding your breath in as he pushes in slowly. You gasp, hands flying up to his waist, digging your nails in as he stretches you out and sheaths himself inside you.

“Fucking hell—“

“I won’t last long,” he sighs, leaning down to hide his face in your neck, his hips pressed tightly against yours as he lets you both adjust — and give himself a minute to compose himself, or else he would lose himself in your warmth.

“I-I won’t either,” you whine and buck your hips, signaling him to move, ��just… please!”

He nods shakily, pulling his hips back a little before thrusting in slowly, testing the waters before he sets his pace, watching how your face morphs into pleasure. 

Aemond fastens his pace, hips snapping against yours eagerly, the sound of skin slapping against each other fills the room while you both groan and moan in ecstasy.

“Fuck,” he groans into your ear, hand reaching to thread his fingers with yours and you compile, turning your head to look at him as he closes his eye and whimpers your name.

“Open your eyes,” you say gently in a tone laced with pleasure, “I wanna watch how you look when you come for me.”

His eye shots open the moment he hears you, both of your bodies shaking as you tighten around him, signing you’re close. He is right behind you, his cock twitching deep inside you as he hits your spot at a fast pace, abandoning his morals as he fucks you harder, letting go of your hand to reach for your face, staring deep into your eyes while you come undone for him.

He takes note of how your lips fall apart, your eyebrows twist in a frown and your body twitches when your orgasm washes over you.

“Come for me, Aemond.” With your words, he pulls out and strokes himself, painting your stomach with his cum, his hand shaking as he groans from deep inside his throat.

“Holy fuck,” he says as he drops next to you on his side, his red cheek and chest on display, body heaving with rapid breaths, “you okay?”

“More than okay,” you turn your head to look at him, scooting closer to him to brush the few strands of hair that have fallen out of his tie off his beautiful face, “factory reset time?”

“Insatiable beast,” he groans and rolls on top of you, biting your earlobe and your squeal only spurring him on, “Give me ten minutes and I can go again.”

“Good, you won’t get much sleep tonight.”

Aemond wakes up by feeling a pair of soft lips on his neck and collarbones, and for the first time in a long time, he wakes with a smile on his face.

“Hmm, morning,” he says, tightening his arms around your back as you keep pressing kisses on his chest, “What are you doing?”

“I’m kissing your heart,” you pout at him, the gleam in your eyes not matching the innocent tone you have.

“What?”

“That was so fucking cheesy, I’m sorry,” you laugh, dropping your head on his shoulders, wrapping your arm around him as he joins you, his chest moving up and down with each laughter.

“Well, I cannot say I didn’t like it,” he shrugs, kissing the crown of your head, “you should be more cheesy.”

“Don’t get your hopes too high, mister,” you cup his cheek, caressing his scarred cheek slowly, “No promises, but I will make your life much harder.”

“I’m looking forward to it—“ his phone rings and suddenly, the invisible bubble of your secret bursts. He sighs and gives you an apologetic smile but you kiss it away and crawl towards the end of the bed to reach and grab his phone, “Who is it?”

“Alicent,” you lay back on his chest when he answers the phone.

“Morning, Mum,” he starts, “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. We’re fine, please don’t panic, alright? I showed her The Queen in Chains, and we stayed the night here… yes, Mum, we’ll get ready and come back before noon.”

“We should head back home, right?”

“Not now,” he turns off his phone and turns to you, “I wanna stay here more, I don’t think I have looked at you enough.”

“Cheesy,” you poke his chest before kissing the spot, melting in his arms as he caresses your naked back, “What am I going to do with you, sweet talker?”

“Unfortunately, you are stuck with me.”

[flemingology]

blurb request! a soft one where leah comes home from international break and spends the evening with r. maybe then have a cute movie night with pizza and cuddle on the sofa with a blanket draped over them? just overall cutesy and lovey dovey haha 💗

home is where you are ─ leah williamson x reader

in which: leah and you reunite after the international break

warnings: none

wc: 1.3k

Leah loved playing for England. She loved putting the shirt on, feeling the weight of the badge on her chest, wearing the captain's armband with pride. She loved winning with England. Whether that was a useless friendly, a Nations League group stage game or a major tournament, Leah was addicted to winning. But the thing that Leah loved most about her international breaks, was the prospect of coming back home to you after being away for the best part of two weeks.

The weight of what had been a grueling 14 days rest heavily on her shoulders. Sarina upped the intensity in training off the back of what had been a disappointing camp back in November. Leah wasn't one to shy away from training hard, but it had taken its toll on her body. It was the first time since her ACL injury that the England captain had played a good, consecutive run of games and she was starting to feel the consequences. She was happy, beyond happy, that her body finally felt like it had before her surgery. No more setbacks, no niggles, just her body, her knee and herself working back towards the level she was at before the dreaded injury.

Leah was lost in thought as she expertly navigated the streets of your neighborhood, her limbs aching more with each turn she took, as if her body knew that she was nearing home with each passing minute. She parked the car in the driveway and exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding in as she saw your car was there too. You had your own international break to attend, traveling to Spain for your own camp, so she was relieved to find out you'd made it home safely. You hadn't really texted today, the both of you caught up in traveling home, too busy thinking about the prospect of being in each other's arms again at night.

The defender took her bags out of the trunk and locked her car behind her, crossing the driveway to the front door in a quick few strides. Leah knocked on the door, not finding the energy in her to fish out her house keys that were probably somewhere at the bottom of her England backpack. The cold London air nipped at her exposed legs, silently cursing herself for not having changed into a pair of sweatpants before she left St George's Park.

Leah got pulled out of her thoughts as you opened the front door, dressed in one of her old Arsenal sweaters and a pair of fuzzy sweatpants. Your hair was slightly tousled from where you had been lounging on the couch, waiting for your girlfriend to come home. Your lips formed a small smile and Leah didn't bother saying anything before she dropped her bags on the ground and pulled you into a tight embrace.

She soaked you in, the warmth of your body spreading towards hers as she buried her face in your neck and inhaled your scent, which she had to miss for the past two weeks. "Hey, baby," you said softly, your Spanish accent laced through your voice as you spoke the defender's mother tongue. She pulled you tighter against her, mumbling something incoherently against the exposed skin of your neck, pressing a couple soft kisses there before pulling her head away and looking you in the eye. "I missed you so much," she voiced. Not awaiting your reply, she rested her hands on both sides of your waist and pulled you closer, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

You'd never get tired of kissing Leah. The way her lips perfectly captured yours time and time again, it always made you feel like you were made for each other. She let her hands roam across your back and then settled them on your bum. You pulled back a couple moments later for some air, and you breathlessly leant your forehead against your girlfriend's. "Can we go inside, please? I'm getting quite cold," Leah chuckled.

Leah and you spent the rest of the evening cuddled up on the couch, telling each other about everything that happened while you spent two weeks away from each other. You ordered pizzas, opened a bottle of red wine and enjoyed your evening together.

"You can't leave me again." Leah's voice startled you as you were engrossed in the movie she had put on earlier. "Hmm?" You cocked your eyes at her. "You know, for football. You can't leave the country anymore. I miss you too much." You let out a breathy laugh and snuggled a bit deeper into her chest. "I missed you too. Spain was nice, but not nicer than here. Although it was a welcome change from all the rain."

One of Leah's hands ran through your hair while the other rested comfortably on the small of your back. You were nudged in between her legs with your head on her chest, one of your hands on the side of her face. You couldn't possibly get any closer to one another, but you wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

"I hate it when you leave. When we're not together. I know it sounds cheesy, but I just feel like a part of me is missing," Leah whispered. The room was dark, only slightly illuminated by the tv, but you could feel the sincerity in your girlfriend's gaze and words. You sit up a little and cupped her cheeks with both hands. "I will never leave you for a reason other than football or family, mi amor." You pressed a soft kiss against her lips and tried to pour all the love and adoration you had for her in the moment. Leah's hands gripped your waist tightly like she was scared you were going to leave again if she didn't hold on tight.

"Next month, just come with me. I'm sure we can get the club to fake an injury or something." You chuckled at your girlfriend's suggestion, but soon quieted down when you sensed she was being serious. "Le, you know I can't do that. As much as I love you, and I'd love to spend every moment of every day with you, I have my own football career too. And I know, deep down, that you want me to do good."

Leah sighed dramatically, throwing her head back against the arm rest of the couch. "Ugh. I guess?" She drew out the syllables of her words, feigning annoyance but you didn't miss the slight smile that crept up her lips. "Te amo, mi vida. So much. I'm yours. Forever." Leah's eyes locked with yours and you didn't miss the unshed tears that were pooling there. You brushed your thumbs over her cheeks and pressed kisses all over her face, whispering soft reassurances and declarations of your love her between the presses of your lips against her delicate skin.

No matter how many times the two of you would have to spend international breaks apart, the prospect of coming home to her was one you'd never, ever get used to or take for granted. Nothing felt more like home like Leah's arms, laying in her embrace under a soft blanket on the couch. Soft kisses and whispers shared while nursing a glass of wine, munching on some pizza that definitely wasn't on your meal plan for the week. But you wouldn't have it any other way.

[selfshippinglover2222]

Hazbin Boys And The Stage Of Grief They’re Stuck In

If their partner died…

Denial

Lucifer would be stuck in denial. He’s folding your clothes, washing your dishes. He’s cleaning your house and waiting for you to get home. He smiles as he does so, humming a tune. He refuses to aknowledge that you might be gone forever. No, you may be gone but you’ll reconstruct. You’ll come home, you have to. You promised you’d never leave him, never abandon him. And he trusts you won’t. So instead he cleans your things, tidies your house and waits to hear your sweet voice telling him your home.

Anger

Valentino would be stuck in anger. His floor of the tower covered in the blood of workers who happened to cross his path, the poor things torn limb from limb or shot up. He has a rage for the world now, for taking away his only light. He becomes even crueler, his work becoming more and more violent and snuff like as he descends deeper into rage. He gets into really violent bdsms with his workers, and is quick to give them a painful death. Without you he sees no reason for happiness.

Husk is also stuck in anger, his personality becoming more and more bitter as he snaps at anyone who tries to help him. He says cruel things and slaps any comforting touch away. He drowns himself in liquor and hopes maybe then he will forget your face. He hates the world for taking you from him, and it shows. He yells and screams, sometimes at his friends, other times at the memory of you. He’s always drunk off his ass now, never wanting to face the cruelness of hell without you by his side.

Bargaining

Alastor is stuck in bargaining, hoping if he kills enough people, if he sacrifices enough souls, then maybe you’ll be brought back to him. He uses all he can in order to try and bring back your soul, using his voodoo in order to try and bring you home. Sacrificing everything he can, his contracts, his own body, anything to bring you back. But you don’t come back, and he doesn’t know what else to do. If he kills enough people in your name, surely you’ll come home? Surely the heavens, or even another demon, will bring you home.

Vox is also stuck in bargaining. He throws himself into his work, into his plans to take over hell. If he wins, if he does control hell, then he can bring you back. If he does a good enough job, if he shows his strength then there will be no choice. You’ll be brought back to him, right? If he’s in charge, he can order it to be so. So he goes days without sleeping, days without eating and just fixates on his plans. He isolates himself from the other Vees, focused entirely on you, on footage, on recordings. If he tries hard enough…you’ll come home to him won’t you?

Depression

Angeldust is stuck in depression. When you die he finds he just can’t get out of bed, he can’t move. The world stills for him, and he doesn’t even find the will to eat. The only thing getting him out of bed is Fat Nuggets, and he doesn’t even find it to feed him. He finds himself to sad to even cry, just staring blankly at the ceiling for hours. He finds he had no hope with you gone. What’s the point now? What’s redemption without you by his side? His hands twitch with the need for a relapse, but your disappointed face keeps him away from it. But, really, what’s the point now?

[k0yaz]

Hi love 💕 May I request comfort/fluff one shot Arlecchino x fem Reader who developed a terminal illness a few years back and is now often bedridden but is getting better however Arlecchino is still super overprotective of her

white light.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, terminally ill reader, angst, but there’s comfort yay I know yall love this, LOTS of mentions of death, like a ridiculous amount, dw reader doesn’t die but grim reaper bullies us every chance he gets like damn, or is the grim reaper a she, that means my friend is immortal since if death is a woman it’ll never come for them, sorry off topic, very soft arle, yes we love our soft king walskskfj, why is the shower so cold help me, not proofread.

A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE AND IT TURNED OUT SO NICE HOLY also, school is starting soon so I might have to go on break in couple months but no worries I can find some time to write and it’ll be a while into the year until i actually need a break yk <3 🕯️

The fluffy layered clouds hovering in the sky slowly parted themselves to reveal illuminating gleams of sunlight pouring into the room through the window curtains situated to the right of your bed. Slow gusts of wind began to join the warmth of the gold light, brushing along your skin and causing an array of goosebumps to bloom along your arm. You were lucky. Not too long back, your immobile body was enveloped into the same bed, a sickly hue painting your face as your pale tinged lips could only part to cough out a few strained noises.

Perhaps the gods had took pity on you? You supposed you’d never figure out the answer as to how your body curved back from a terminal illness in its final stage. It was supposed to be incurable, and your body back then seemed to agree with what should have been. You were dangerously dangling right above the realm of death, only a hair apart from succumbing to your imminent demise. The doctor who noted your worsening state only had a strike of pity in her voice whenever she’d inform Arlecchino of your current condition, shaking her head as the words: “she won’t make it.” muffled through the door seperating your room from the outside.

It hurt to hear. Not for you per say, but more to hear the emptiness in Arlecchino’s voice when she attempted to dismiss the doctor’s words coldly. She didn’t want to hear that. She didn’t want to hear that your condition was only drawing you closer and closer to death, she wanted to hear that you atleast had a small chance of surviving. As much as she tried to choke back the bitter pain in her unwavering voice, she always clung onto that small sliver of hope deep down, internally calling out to a sea of nothingness in hopes that something would come help you.

Sudden news of your recovery, or rather your condition suddenly improving one day was nothing short of a miracle. It shouldn’t have been possible at all. You were around the final month mark, your entire body burning with an agonizing rush of soreness as you wanted to plead for death to take you away from the unbearable discomfort searing every limb of your ghastly and thin form. That night you had gone to bed, hoping to escape the aching pain of your illness eating away at you. That was when you saw it. You dreamt of a faint glow of white light—or was it a slight pale yellow? The dream was vague and confusing, and held no meaning at all. The light simply danced in circles before you as your life trajectory seared across your eyes.

However, the dream must have meant something.

The next morning you had awoken, your body feeling much lighter all of a sudden, as you had the strength to now sit up completely. Hands carefully massaging the thick blanket draped over your lap, you blinked in confusion upon realizing that you were indeed alive and able to sit up. Sure, you were still incapable of moving around or sitting up for long, but originally, you weren’t even able to raise your body a quarter of the way up, as it would simply result in your spine slamming back into the sunken, comfortable mattress.

When the doctor made her way into the room, performing her checkups which she believed to be futile and tragic, her initial expression of sorrow shifted to one of quick shock. This shouldn’t have been even the slightest bit possible. Arlecchino’s reaction was all the more endearing the moment the newly discovered news made its way to her. You’d never forget the rare smile of pure relief and happiness crossing her usually stoic front, seeming as if Arlecchino was glowing in that moment.

She had attempted to clear her throat and position herself upright, concealing the internal delight bubbling in her mind at that moment. The door had softly creaked open, the sway of the old hinges on your bedroom door being the only noise, along with the quiet howls of wind, resounding within the cell of a room that held your life by a mere thread.

You simply sat there, your scrawny form nearly engulfed by the heavy blankets cascaded onto your lap as the light livened the hue of your face. And when that sweet smile made its way onto your lips weakly upon seeing the harbinger hover before your bed, Arlecchino had to suppress every urge of hers to hem you between her arms in a tight hug and never let go. She wanted to embrace you with every drop of love and affection lingering in her heart as her blackened hands tightened into your back, like a promise to never let you go. Since then, your condition had steadily improved. Months passed, and then years. At this very moment, you now had the ability to walk around and perform minor tasks adequately, yet you still remained bedridden for the majority of your time.

A light pain slowly overtook the side of your chest abruptly, drawing out a few heavy coughs from your throat as your palm pushed against your left breast in an attempt to soothe the throb pushing and pulling against your heart. Quiet ticks of the clock seemed to inch in sync with the rugged beats of your heart, both echoing throughout the room in a sort of twisted harmony. Although your condition had gotten better, storms of weakness and coughs would still persist through, as this was quite a serious illness you suffered from.

The silk white blankets enveloped your limp frame, cascading over your body and situated slightly below your chest, while the back of your head burrowed into the pillows to bask in the favorable comfort enshrouded around every outline of your lounged body. Your chest rhythmically rose and fell as you choked out a few labored breaths, still clenching your fingers against the fabric of your loose shirt covering your chest.

Your vision suddenly started a gradual spin, objects within your range slowly drawn out of focus, and not taking long for the spin to pick up the pace as your vision suddenly shifted to a bleary mess of the room. Head tilting back, you rasped out a line of shaky breaths as the frightening episode of dizziness quickly subsided as soon as it began, causing a sense of panic to rush through you briefly while your chest rose and fell in uneven motions from your initial fright. In that very moment, a small screech of wooden hinges caught your attention, your head carefully raising as to not incite any possible negative reaction from your sensitive body.

Swift and heavy clicks of heels prodded across the room, a sound you’d recognize anywhere even if you were miles away. You raised your head barely even level to the headboard, delivering Arlecchino a feeble smile as her eyes softened upon meeting yours. Slowly, you took her hand into yours, palm resting over the top of her defined knuckles as your thumb circled along the cursed gradient of her hands gently. She could only breathe out a grateful sigh, her head dropping in a restful state as she rested herself onto your shoulder affectionately.

“Are you feeling any better?” She almost immediately questioned, her usually composed eyes having a flicker of concern dashed across them. Her eyes wandered along your frail body, the hints of worry still subtly etched onto her face as her grasp on your hand below hers grew increasingly taut and stiff as she awaited your answer. As much as you wanted to chuckle and tell her you were okay, you clearly couldn’t even say that much.

“Hm. Same as usual. Can’t move my legs well today, but I’ll live.” You casually answered, not taking in the impact your words might have placed onto Arlecchino.

Live.

She was so glad you were able to live.

Arlecchino suddenly dragged her teeth along each other, her mouth remaining closed as the grit of her teeth quietly bounced off of her cheek into her eardrums. It took everything she had to swallow back that wretched feeling boiling up to her throat, her heart wrenching and flooding with discomfort upon hearing the way you threw your life around so casually in your words. She had always been extensively protective over you ever since your condition deteriorated, yet it grew exponentially once you began to recover over the years. She’d always tend to you, sometimes never leaving your side for hours on end as she’d just sit there, head lowered and lips pushed against your frail hand.

Her grip on your hand tensed noticeably, making you shift your eyes up to her lowered dark gaze, staring off into an endless abyss as her expression just seemed…soulless and empty at the mere thought of your passing away. She was afraid. Afraid that just when she believes that her beloved would live despite being in poor condition, she’d walk into your room one day to discover your heart dead still, body completely limp and deceased.

The thought of that made her hand noticeably quiver between yours, disturbing images of your possible sudden death plaguing her mind like a broken subliminal record trying to shatter her soul by tearing away the one person she loves most in this cruel world. It was indeed cruel, as this very world had targeted the reaper to loom over the side of your bed at all times, carefully awaiting the moment to take you away from Teyvat. Arlecchino internally cursed herself at the idea that perhaps this punishment was because of her. She wanted you to be spared. You weren’t the one with blood on your hands, she was.

Despite her agonizing thoughts gnawing at the back of her mind, your sudden firm grip on her hand made her head snap back up abruptly, eyes locking onto your thin fingers cupping her shaky hand in place. If she could, Arlecchino would cry at this very moment, allow herself to shed a couple tears. Yet she knew she couldn’t. She didn’t want to worry you any further, especially in your current state.

“Arle, I’m staying. Please, don’t worry about me. I am better now, right?”

“I know. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t around.”

It was evident that Arlecchino had a difficult time a few years ago, when you were announced to die in under a couple months. She had to mentally prepare herself to lose you soon. She was used to it, you were just another person in her life that slipped away too soon, right?

But she couldn’t.

She couldn’t bear losing you. It was too much even for her.

Arlecchino needed you in her life, and she’d wipe out the entirety of the world just to keep you safe.

Your hand reached up to graze along the skin of her cheek, smiling as she instinctively leaned into your touch. Her eyes fluttered shut as she held your hand in place against her cheek, opening her eyelids once more to gaze at you lovingly with red x-marked eyes.

“Hey Arle, I’m still not feeling the best today…so do you think you could-“

You didn’t even get a chance to finish your hesitant sentence as she lowered herself onto the side of your bed, squeezing herself next to you as her arms gently circled your torso and grasped you against her. You only hummed out a content sigh as you felt your slouched back press to her upright chest, the difference in your postures just making the moment oddly romantic and sweet. Arlecchino’s face buried into your shoulder, intaking a soft inhale as if she missed your scent clouding her senses every time she was close to you.

It didn’t take long for you to drift off to sleep in Arlecchino’s arms as you curled up into the warm blankets piled over both of you. Arlecchino, still awake, quietly shifted her weight onto her side to glance down at you, smiling softly upon seeing your peaceful rested expression. Maybe finally, she rinsed the lingering blood splattered on her hands that led you to this awful fate. She’d rinse it a thousand times if it meant that you would remain safe like this for as long as you lived.

However in this very moment? Arlecchino had forgotten every sense of dread clawing at her constantly, instead focusing on your huddled up form engulfed between her protective grasp.

She swore that she would never let you go again, and she would treasure every inch of you. Not even death can do you two part.

A/N: omg I kept switching between being proud of this and being not so proud bc I had to stop midway through and I lost my train of thought AUUUSHSHDBFN anyway yayayayashshdhd I loved writing this so much AND CALM DOWN ON THE ARLE REQUESTS HOLY SH-

ok bye I’m gonna go on character ai cause I can’t sleep to bed

[authorhjk1]

Midnight

Kwon Eunbi X Park Jihyo X Yu Jimin X Male Reader

Stay here."

Jihyo can't tear her eyes off the screen.

"B-But you could die."

Twice's leader sees a smug grin on your face.

"I'd rather die than see you leave."

Her eyes grow wide as she watches you exit the room.

"Don't go!"

Tzuyu is sitting next to Jihyo. As if you could hear her shout.

Jihyo's heart aches. How could they put you into this dangerous situation?

She unconsciously bites her nails as you close the door behind you. You lock it, letting the key fall into the fish tank next to it.

"He is gonna die."

Chaeyoung is the third Twice member, who is sitting on their couch.

"Don't jinx it."

Jihyo tries to hit her, without looking away.

You let out a heavy sigh, the sad OST adding fuel to the three girls' emotional fire.

Shouts can be heard in the background. Footsteps are coming closer.

You take the pistol out of your belt. The Japanese soldiers can be seen, running through the wooden inn.

"Please, please, please."

Tzuyu mumbles to herself, praying that you are gonna survive. You are the main lead. You have to!

You cock your Mauser C96, before placing your left hand on the steel door.

"Stay alive."

You whisper. Your eyes are watery, the chance of staying alive slim.

"No! Chu-soo!"

The woman behind the door rattles at it, trying to get to you.

"Please!"

Taking a deep breath, you step towards the stairs, ready to go up into the saloon.

"Don't."

Jihyo sighs, hoping you would stay safe. Where is the backup the old guy promised?

The first soldier appears on the top of the stairs. Just as he sees you, your pistol fires. His limb body falls down the stairs, coming to a halt right before you.

"He is gonna do it!"

Chaeyoung exclaims, her voice louder in excitement.

Another dead Japanese soldier falls down the stairs. You jump over both of the dead bodies, taking two steps at once.

Stepping into the saloon, you shoot a third soldier in the head.

Seo Yeji bangs against the door in the basement.

"Chu-soo!"

Tears flow down her face. She tries to open the door, but you locked it.

A single shot can be heard from upstairs. The screen turns black. The episode is over.

"No!"

Jihyo slumps back into the cushions, groaning in frustration.

Tzuyu and Chaeyoung are equally disappointed. How could they just let it end this way?

"One more minute!"

Karina groans in annoyance, wanting to scream at the person behind the door.

She tries to collect herself. With a low moan, she let's her fingers slip out of her warm core.

There is no way she is gonna get off now. How long has it been? At least two weeks. Maybe even longer. The last time she was with a guy? She can only roll her eyes. Even if she would have time for that, who is she supposed to approach? Some are just not attractive in her eyes. And most behave like boys. It doesn't matter to Karina if they do it on stage or off stage or both. She isn't into boys.

Fixing the lower half of her outfit, Karina makes sure she is presentable again. As she stands up, she looks herself up and down in the big mirror on the wall.

Her eyes fall onto the white top she is wearing.

"Fuck."

Karina mumbles, seeing the dark spot on the white fabric.

"Not again."

She sighs, unbuttoning her blouse. This has happened a lot the last couple of weeks. Luckily, she has something else to change into.

After getting rid off her blouse, Karina sees that her bra is stained as well.

The first time this happened, she was really concerned. What the fuck was going on? But after some research, she found out that this can happen due to stress. Especially to women with larger breasts.

Most of the time, Karina doesn't have a problem with them. Hers are on the bigger side, which her fans seem to like. But in moments like these, she wished that she would have a smaller chest.

Changing into a new bra as well, Karina ponders on how she can get rid of this problem. Occasionally lactating isn't great. Especially if you are on stage. It hasn't happened yet, but it could anytime.

The stress is getting to her, which makes the problem even worse. How can she get rid of this?

"Are you alright?"

The woman's eyes are fixated on the idol in front of her.

"Unnie?"

It takes Kwon Eunbi more than just a moment to realize that she was staring.

Once she gets caught, she starts to blush heavily. She tries to hide it, but the woman she is eating with gets the hint.

"Who is it?"

Eunbi shakes her head, embarrassed.

"It's nothing. I-I just have a lot on my mind."

Her manager chuckles, knowing Eunbi quite well by now. If she blushes this hard, it means she has seen a very attractive person.

She turns around, trying to find out whom Eunbi could've stared at.

"Stop it. You food is getting cold."

Eunbi is trying to stop her manager from looking around.

"If you are not gonna tell me..."

She sighs before she keeps eating her scrambled eggs.

Eunbi looks over her manager's shoulders, looking at the man who is getting a serving of the food in the company's cafeteria.

There is no way she could tell anyone whom she is looking at. You are eight years younger than her after all.

She watches how you walk closer, her cheeks slowly turning red. She watched the new episode that aired today.

You never really caught her eye before, even though the two of you are in the same company. But your current lead role in this new drama has Eunbi swooning.

Especially this last episode. Since it takes place right before the second World War, Joseon is occupied by the Japanese. After your fierce fight, you took a bath in the river nearby.

It was a replacement for the cliche shower scene a lot of k dramas have.

Up until that moment, Eunbi always enjoyed seeing your handsome face in the cafeteria and on screen. Despite the scar on your right cheek. She thinks it makes you look even rougher.

But after she's seen you half naked, she can't get her thoughts into their proper order. Eunbi expected you to be fit. Probably even slim. But she didn't expect your well defined abs. The way the water made it's way through the valleys of your muscles....

Eunbi almost chokes on her food as you now stand in front of her table.

It's not like the two of you know each other very well, but there aren't a lot of empty table left.

You greet both women politely, before starting to enjoy your food.

Kwon Eunbi's head rests on the soft material behind her. The sofa in her empty waiting room was just a too good of a chance to pass up on.

She is a very comfort loving woman, which means she has to feel safe and secure to indulge into her more carnal desires. But lately, Eunbi seems to become horny almost all the time. Especially while watching your drama or seeing you in the cafeteria.

She is currently attending a music show. While waiting for her time to shine, Eunbi decided she could try to get off real quick. It's not like she is missing inspiration.

Your face crosses her mind. Your abs, your broad back, your muscular arms...

Eunbi sighs heavily. If this drama is gonna have a sex scene, she is gonna die sooner rather than later.

Her cheeks flush red. But not just because of how good she feels. Shame is part of the reason as well. She can't believe she is crushing so hard on somebody who is younger than her. By eight years. Maybe this taboo adds to her heightened state of arousal.

When Eunbi hears the door open, her pleasure shatters into pieces. More shameful red colors her cheeks, her legs instinctively closing around her hand as she opens her eyes. They are full of fear now.

Two women stand in the door, both shocked at seeing Eunbi lying half naked on the sofa.

In her lust filled state, Eunbi's mind takes a moment to recognize the two people standing in the door. Park Jihyo and Yu Jimin.

"Seems like you have the same problem as us."

Jihyo's words embarrass Eunbi even further. How could this happen?

"We were looking for a quiet room to talk in."

The two women step inside. The older of the three still very aware that she is half naked.

"T-To talk about what?"

A quick glance at the coffee table makes Eunbi's heart sink even further. Her phone is still on. She tossed it away as her pleasure started to get the best of her. A picture of you in that river is lighting up the screen. Please...

The two girls don't seem to notice yet.

"About our needs."

Eunbi looks down on herself at Jimin's words.

"We never have time for, you know..."

The youngest seems a little embarrassed as well.

"There is no need to be shy."

Jihyo takes the lead, probably because she is used to it.

"The three of us are all visibly in need of some action. Am I wrong?"

The other two shake their heads.

"So we need something that can help us out."

"Or rather someone."

Jimin's comment makes Eunbi immediately think of you.

"Are you saying, the three of us should..."

Afraid to finish her sentence on her own, Eunbi looks at the two leaders of Twice and Aespa.

"Yeah."

Jihyo nods.

"It would be a hassle to find three guys for all of us. One might be enough."

Eunbi shudders at the thought. She never even had a threesome before. How is she gonna share a man with these two women? Although, it might be a good experience. There aren't really any cons, are there?

"So, are you in?"

Eunbi slowly nods at Jihyo's question.

Jimin closes the door behind the two as they both step fully inside the room.

"Any suggestions?"

Jihyo's question makes the older woman glance at her phone. Jimin seems to have caught it. She steps closer, before Eunbi can hide the display.

"Wow, unnie. He looks handsome. Who is he?"

Jihyo takes a closer look as well. Biting her lip, she feels her body reacting to your picture. She tried the same thing Eunbi had tried a couple of moments ago. But sharing a house with eight girls made it impossible.

"(Y/n) really is a great candidate."

"(Y/n)?"

Jimin heard that name before, but it takes her moment, since you haven't been really popular so far.

"You mean Lee (y/n)? The actor?"

"Yes."

Jihyo nods.

"He is the main lead in 'Death's fate'."

"He really looks hot."

Jimin takes another look at the picture.

"He is."

Jihyo sighs dreamily.

"I don't even remember how often I imagined myself riding his cock, while my hands glide over his abs..."

Jihyo shakes her head, coming back to reality. Her cheeks a little red.

"But how are we gonna ask him?"

Jimin's question makes Eunbi think.

"I might have an idea."

Now that her time has come, Eunbi is almost too scared to act. There you are, on screen, currently reading out something on your cue card. You became a substitute host for someone else for one of the music shows.

Eunbi is standing in her waiting room, waiting for you to finish. Your deep voice makes her feel comfortable whenever she hears it. As if it consists of warm honey. Sweet and soothing. But strong and powerful.

The stylist gave you a completely different look compared to yours in the drama. Gone is the handsome, rugged rebel.

The scar on your cheek doesn't stand out as much and you hair is showing curls in the front.

Eunbi leaves her room as soon as you get off stage. She walks in the direction you have to come from, ready to follow through with the three women's plan.

"Hello, sunbaenim."

You bow respectfully as you see Eunbi walking towards you. It's hard to not stare at her. Especially since she is smaller than you. Which currently enables you to have a good look at her inviting cleavage.

She captured your attention for the first time, when you saw her performances during the water bomb festival. You never really saw her as a sexy, mature woman. More like a friendly and sweet senior. But more than enough pictures of her voluptuous chest started to draw you towards her.

Today she is wearing an all pink outfit. The sides of her waist are exposed and her shoulders are only covered by the straps of her top. Her tits look as good as they always do.

You have to stop yourself from staring at them. Instead, you look at her gorgeous face.

Her cheeks seem to be tinted slightly more pink than usual.

"Hello, (y/n)."

She greets you with a seductive smile.

At least you think it is one. Or rather, you hope so.

"I wish you good luck for your performance. Can't wait to watch it."

It feels like your words are kinda awkward, but you can't help it. Eunbi just takes your breath away.

"Thank you. I hope you enjoy them."

You are puzzled for a moment. She only has one performance. What does she mean?

"Are you attending the year-end party by the way?"

"What party?"

Her question draws your attention away from her suggestive comment a moment ago.

"Oh, please don't tell me I forgot to invite you!"

Eunbi pretends to be truly embarrassed, hoping you swallow the bait.

"I-It's okay. I do have a lot of stuff to do anyway."

"No way."

Eunbi dramatically shakes her head.

"You have to join us now. I can't believe I forgot to invite you."

"Really, it's no big problem."

Eunbi takes your hand in hers.

"Please join us. The party takes place at a rented house at the beach. I will send you the address."

You nod hesitantly, still trying to get used to this new life. You were never popular before. And you never expected a famous and gorgeous person like Kwon Eunbi to invite you to her party.

"S-Sure. I will be there."

She flashes a great smile your way.

"But is there a dress code I have to worry about?"

Eunbi chuckles.

"It's just a party to celebrate the end of the year."

You nod in understanding.

"But if you want to shoot your shot with one of the guests, I suggest you bring your A game."

The confused look on your face makes her chuckle once again.

"You look cute like this. Bye."

She gives you a quick hug, before having to hurry towards the stage. Your heart is still pounding away. She just hugged you. Kwon Eunbi! And she told you you are cute!

Wait.

You are only able to properly comprehend what she said now. Is she trying to set you up with someone? Or is she telling you to hit on her? No way. Eunbi is eight years older than you. She surely wouldn't want to be with a boy like you.

Karina realizes that her sheets are wet as she wakes up. Her dream was more than just a lustful dream. She couldn't help herself after she saw your picture, so she watched all of the episodes of your drama.

Her dream was about you. And her. And how you fuck her from behind, pushing her head into the mattress. How you squeeze her tits with one hand, while the other holds onto her neck. How you cum on her chest afterwards, covering her tits with your thick load.

Karina still feels so horny after this dream, but she can't get herself off now. She has to change the sheets without her members finding out. And their schedule starts soon as well.

She groans in annoyance. Cuming in her sleep isn't as satisfying as consciously getting herself off.

Karina glances at her alarm clock, which shows the current date. Two more days to go. Two more days until she can make her dreams reality.

You always hated being unprepared. Just like right now. Looking at the house Eunbi mentioned, you have a weird feeling in your stomach.

Except for the address, she didn't tell you anything else. How many people are attending? And who? Does she have any particular events in mind? Or just drinking?

You were never a heavy drinker, but you brought a nice bottle of wine with you. A gift for Eunbi to say thank you for the invite.

The door opens a couple of moments after you rung the bell. You are surprised to say the least. In front of you is standing Park Jihyo.

You've never met her in person before. But you know she is a very nice and mature woman. And beautiful as hell too.

It's obvious that she had prior schedules. She is wearing a white crop top that shows off her shoulders and tummy. Her blue pants are held up by a turquoise belt. The small waist chain is highlighting her small waist. Her blue extensions make her look young and exciting.

"Hi (y/n). We have been waiting for you."

"Hello. I'm not late, am I?"

Jihyo shakes her head.

"No, no. Please, come in."

She steps aside to let you in, closing the door behind you.

"Make yourself comfortable. I have to change into something nicer. The others should be in the kitchen."

"I doubt there is a nicer outfit than this."

You only realize you said those words after Jihyo playfully hits your arm.

What the hell, dude? As an actor you should be able to control your thoughts better.

You watch her walk up the stairs. Unable to look away, you see Jihyo's butt slightly sway from left to right, tightly hugged by the light blue fabric of her jeans.

You are in for more surprises when you reach the kitchen. Food is filling almost every surface. Tteobokki, noodles, pork belly, kimchi fried rice, chicken and more. Who is supposed to eat all of this? How many people are coming here? A hundred?

The woman who is standing with her back to you looks familiar. But you can't say for sure if this is Eunbi or not.

Her black dress shows off her back, only slightly covering it with a few bands. Her hair is resting on her naked skin, while it's neatly tugged behind her ear on the left side. Her dress isn't really highlighting her curves, at least not from the back. But you do notice that it's quite short. You would just need to hike it up a little and...

You stop yourself from continuing your thought.

"Good evening."

You make your presence known.

Turns out it really is Eunbi. You immediately recognize her beautiful face when she turns around.

"Hello, (y/n). How have you been?"

"I'm doing alright."

"Did you bring this for us?"

She points at the bottle of wine you almost forgot you are holding.

"Yeah. I hope you enjoy it."

Eunbi takes the bottle out of your hands.

"Thank you very much."

"I tried to buy a good one, but all the older ones were gone already."

She shruggs her shoulders.

"Don't worry. I usually like younger stuff anyway."

She winks at you before turning back around. You feel your cheeks getting a little hot. You can't help but feel like Eunbi is flirting with you. But that would be crazy. Or not?

"Why don't you get comfortable in the living room? The table is already set."

It is? You are surprised. There is still more food? Did Eunbi clear out a whole grocery store or something? As you step into the living room you realize it's more like two grocery stores.

Karina let's her hand wander underneath her skirt. She can't help it. She has come to enjoy the sound of your soothing voice and the way you speak. Your scent slowly starts to make it's way towards her. A mix of wood and rain.

A moan almost escapes her lips, her pussy dripping wet. She is excited. She waited so long for this. To have someone to satisfy her needs.

You eyes fall onto the woman sitting at the table. Aespa's Karina? No way. You can't believe that those three women are at the same party as you.

Karina's outfit is all white, which reminds you of the snow outside. Her tits threaten to spill out of her top. It seems like the zipper is barely holding on. Her neckline is decorated with a pearl necklace, making her neck look a little longer. Her fuzy skirt looks kinda interesting.

Something is going on. This is weird to you. As the four of you eat dinner, you wonder what's going on. Jihyo said that everyone else cancelled. It sounds unbelievable, but why would she lie?

And what's with these outfits? Sure, they all want to look nice. But you can't help but think that they all look a little too sexy.

Eunbi keeps wiping her mouth with her thumb after every spoon of Tteobokki. Which wouldn't have caught your attention if she wouldn't keep staring at you while she does it.

Jihyo's fit makes her look elegant, but you can't help but notice how big her chest looks. You have seen more than enough of her to know that she is wearing a push up bra. Her cleavage tries to seduce you whenever she reaches over the table to try new food. Which seems to happen quite often.

After two bottles of wine, you start to relax a little more. The three women look like they are enjoying themselves as well. Your thoughts about their ulterior motives slowly fall into the back of your mind.

Once all of you are completely full, you offer Eunbi to help clean the table, but she insists on you staying seated. Karina excuses herself to go upstairs, while you and Jihyo talk some more.

"And dou have anything else planned?"

You shake your head at her question.

"I didn't get any new offers yet. But I'm positive. The current drama still has a couple of episodes that are going to air."

"I would love to see you in many more to come. I really enjoy your acting."

You can't help but smile at Jihyo's compliment.

"Oh."

You see her looking outside.

"I haven't even noticed that this house a hot tub."

Looking outside as well, you suddenly feel Jihyo tugging at the sleeve of your shirt.

"You wanna relax a little?"

"Isn't it like really cold outside? It's snowing."

Jihyo gets up and dismisses your worries with a wave of her hand.

"It's name is 'hot tub' for reason, right?"

"Sure."

You get up as well as Jihyo opens the glass door leading into the backyard.

Only now you realize that you don't have swimming trunks with you. Who could blame you though? You never expected to go for a swim tonight.

"Are you not coming?"

You are already standing in the door, while Jihyo is standing next to the hot tub, turning the heat on.

"Well, I don't have anyt swim trunks with me."

You see her chuckle.

"So?"

"Well..."

You don't know how to continue.

"We are just here to relax. Don't bother."

And with that you see Jihyo starting to get rid off her dress.

You bite your lip as you see it drop to the floor. It turns out that you were wrong. Jihyo isn't wearing a push up bra. In fact, she isn't wearing a bra at all. Only a black high rise thong.

As if it's a normal thing to do for her, Jihyo slowly steps into the pool. You have to do your best to not stare at her. Her tits look as good as you imagined them.

Once she sits down, she motions you to join her with one finger. A seductive smile on her face.

You start to get rid off your clothes as well. When you reach your boxers, you glance at Jihyo. You are hard. There is no way you can fix that now. But this might be your golden opportunity.

You let your boxers fall to the ground. This time, Jihyo is the one staring. She already had her eyes on your abs. But your cock is demanding all of her attention now.

She smiles, realizing that she underestimated you. Not just your boldness, but also your size.

Stepping into the water, you sit down across from her. Jihyo's tits are underwater, blocking the view at her lower body. Not that you mind though. They are good enough on their own.

"You were right, it is a little cold."

You only realize that you were staring as you hear her speak up. The goosebumps on her skin make you feel cold as well.

"But I know just the thing to make us hot."

Your eyes must be wide open as you watch her coming closer. Her eyes are locked on yours as Jihyo stands in front of you. Now, the water is only reaching her waist. She looks down at you, a soft smile on her face.

"It's time for dessert, don't you think?"

Without waiting for your response, Jihyo starts to lower herself.

You can't believe that this is actually happening.

You feel her folds slowly grazing your tip underwater. Her tits are now exactly at the right height for you to bury your face in them.

Jihyo seems to have the same thoughts. One of her hands wanders to the back of your head, slowly pushing you forward.

You start kissing Jihyo's tits as you feel her taking your cock into her pussy.

Jihyo doesn't seem to care much about foreplay.

She already starts to moan as she feels how you fill her up. She didn't have cock in her for months. Her tits are sensitive as she feels your lips dance on her skin.

Jihyo has to place both of her hands on your shoulders, needing stability. Her legs are already becoming weak and she has to use your body as leverage to push herself up and down.

As she slowly starts to ride your cock, you take one of Jihyo's nipples into your mouth. Your hand cups the other breast as you suck on this one.

"God, yes."

Jihyo sighs, finally able to enjoy the thing she longed for for month. Even if the other girls had other plans, she just couldn't pass up on this opportunity.

Her body starts to move faster, the pleasure in your groin increasing. Jihyo's pussy is warming your hard cock, hugging it tightly so you don't feel too cold.

"Fuck. Your cock feels so good."

Another moan as she impales herself on your shaft, the water making splashing noises as she moves up and down.

"Suck on my tits, baby."

You are already doing exactly that. And you don't plan on stopping anytime soon. Her full mounds keep pressing against your face as she occasionally rocks back and forth in your lap.

As Jihyo's pleasure increases, you start to taste something else besides her skin. The sweet taste of her milk floods your mouth. It's nothing more than a small dribble, but it's enough for you to become even harder.

You already thought you were at your limit, Jihyo as well. But she can feel how you stiffen inside of her, parting her walls even further.

"Fuck, yes. Suck on mommy's tits, baby."

You are surprised for a moment, but you are not complaining. Jihyo always gave you mommy vibes anyway.

"That's a good boy."

She keeps praising you as she fucks herself on your cock. Both of her tits are releasing a little milk by now. You make sure to not waste a drop, enjoying the sweet taste.

Until now, Jihyo's riding was quite slow, her main focus on making you suck her tits. But as you empty her tits further and further, her desire to roughly bounce on you increases.

"I wanna fucking cum on your cock."

She starts to increase her pace, making it harder for you to stay attached to her nipples.

"Mommy wants your cock in her pussy so bad."

She moans and sighs, the built up tension in her body needs to be released. She can't even remember the last time she felt this good.

No members she has to take care of, no fans, no managers, no appointments or interviews or shoots.

Just your cock in her pussy, hitting her g-spot everytime she fully sinks into your lap.

Jihyo starts to lose her rhythm. The pleasure washes over her like the waves she is creating in the hot tub. Her hands have moved by now, both of them on the back of your head.

She hugs you tightly, pushing your head into her chest.

"Good boy. You are doing so well."

Jihyo keeps moaning as her pleasure increases.

Your hands are folded on her wet back, making sure that she is not able to fall off. For a moment, you wonder where her panties have gone, but this situation is almost too much for you to be thinking about anything else.

Unbeknownst to you, Jihyo's thong is still lazily swimming around her left ankle. It's slightly sticking to her skin as she keeps bouncing in your lap.

"Mommy is gonna cum on your cock, baby!"

Days and weeks of pent up pleasure are starting to make their way towards Jihyo's core. They hit her dam repeatedly, trying to break out of her.

"Harder, baby! Make me take your cock!"

You switch from just holding her, to pulling her body into your lap. The added force makes Jihyo lose control.

A couple of moments later, the dam inside her body breaks open. Waves after waves of pleasure rock her body as her juices mix with the water in the hot tub.

You feel Jihyo's tight pussy contracting around you, trying to make you cum as well. Doing your best to hold on, you don't want to cum too early.

You want to pleasure Jihyo for longer, now knowing that she has too much sexual tension in her body. You are more than willing to release all of it.

"Oh Goood!"

She moans loudly, her head rolling back, her eyes closed.

Jihyo's orgasm is even more powerful that she expected herself. It feels like hours for the both of you, until her body starts to calm down.

"Your cock fills my pussy so well, baby."

Jihyo starts grinding on you once again. It's obvious that one orgasm just isn't enough to satisfy her needs.

"Be a good boy and suck on mommy's tits."

She has come back to her slow, sensual riding, which enables you to capture her nipples with your mouth again.

Just like before, Jihyo starts to ride you faster, the longer you suck on her tits.

"Holy fuck."

She sighs feeling you attacking her chest as she keeps grinding against you. The woman on top of you feels that she is pushing you towards your orgasm. But she isn't satisfied yet.

Jihyo slows down once again. Her grinding isn't enough for you to cum, but it almost feels like torture. You are close, but not close enough. Instead, her pussy keeps pushing you towards the edge, only for you to hang on by a thread.

Meanwhile, you bring Jihyo closer towards her second orgasm. Your work on her tits doesn't stay unnoticed.

"Good boy."

Her praises make you work harder, earning more moans from her.

"Fuck."

Another deep moan and Jihyo cums for a second time. It's less violent this time, but you can still feel how some of the build up tension leaves her body.

"So good..."

She coos as she cums down from her high. Her pussy almost painfully tight by now.

"I think it's time for your reward, baby."

Jihyo increases her pace once more. Because she has kept you near the edge of your orgasm, it doesn't take long for you to feel the familiar pull in your groin.

"Gonna cum."

You groan, unable to say much more.

Only now do you realize that you are having unprotected sex with Park Jihyo. The realization hits you like a truck, almost making your orgasm immediately. The fact that you are balls deep inside Twice's leader is already hard enough to compensate. But you are actually inside of her without any protection. Is she even taking the pill?

If she is not...

The heat of the moment made you forget about the risks. But now it somewhat turns you on. What would happen if you breed Park Jihyo?

"You can't cum inside."

She moans, making you realize that she isn't on the pill. And that you are not wearing a condom. Which means...

"Naughty boy. Thinking you could breed me."

Despite her words, Jihyo keeps fucking herself onto your cock. She doesn't stop.

"What would the public say if you cum deep inside my pussy?"

The thought brings you towards the edge. If your orgasm is a cliff, you would be standing on the edge with one foot hanging in the air. One more step...

"We can't have that."

Jihyo's tone and words make you lose your hold on the edge of this cliff.

"It's gonna be much safer if I swallow that load of yours."

Your hands have moved to her wide hips by now. You keep pulling her into your lap, taking control of her pace.

"I'm gonna have a belly full of cum either way."

The thought of filling Jihyo's tummy makes you groan, slamming into her from underneath her.

"Besides, we have the whole night. Maybe I would be willing to let you breed me at one point.."

Your body malfunctions. While your hands try to lift Jihyo off your cock, your hips try to thrust upwards as high as possible. You don't want to cum inside, the risks too high, and yet you want to feel her pussy, milking your cock.

Jihyo gets off your cock right before you explode.

"Paint my throat, baby."

She glides into the water, opening her mouth. As you start to see stars, Jihyo wraps her lips around your cock.

"Fuck!"

You groan as you finally orgasm. The long build up makes you shoot a bigger load than you expected. You fill Jihyo's throat within seconds. Your warm cum fills her completely as she tries to gulp it down. It's sticky consistency makes it harder to do so.

You feel Jihyo's throat tighten around you as she coughs up some of your cum, letting it spill out of her mouth.

It takes her a couple of moments to swallow all of it. Once she is done, Jihyo opens her mouth, showing that her mouth is empty.

"You cum tastes amazing."

"Thank you."

You don't know what else to say. You never expected to hear a compliment like that from her. Or any compliment for that matter.

"You should go upstairs. The bathrooms have towels."

You get what she means. You think that she is trying to hide this from the other girls.

"What about you?"

Jihyo chuckles and motions for you to leave.

"I'm gonna enjoy myself a little longer."

As you slide open the glass door, Jihyo calls for you again.

"There should be condoms in one of the bathrooms. Take them. You're gonna need them."

She gives you a seductive smile as you step back inside.

You hear that Eunbi is still in the kitchen. What is taking her so long? It sounds like she is using the hand blender. But for what? You already had dinner. And no one said anything about dessert. At least not for now.

But you don't complain if it means that Eunbi won't be in your path.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you look around. Aware that you are still naked, you want to make a decision quickly. There are two bedrooms, both of them have bathrooms. But which one is empty? You remember Karina coming up here for a little privacy earlier. She got a call from someone, if you remember correctly.

But you don't hear anything right now.

You decide to just go for it. Opening the door on the right, you seem to be lucky. Karina isn't in this one.

You drop your clothes on the bed and walk towards the bathroom. Seems like this is the one Jihyo mentioned. You find four boxes of different sizes on the dresser. Why did Jihyo buy so many condoms? Even if she didn't know your size, why a whole box? And why didn't she know which bathroom they were in? She must have put them here earlier. Or...

It feels like someone just opened your eyes. How can you be so dumb?

Eunbi's rushed invitation, the fact that you are alone with the three of them, their outfits, their flirting. How didn't you pick up on all of that?

You stand there in the bathroom. Towel in one hand, a box of condoms in the other. How is this even real?

"Seems like you found them."

Karina is standing the doorframe, her eyes glancing at your half erect cock, before moving back to yours.

"Wanna put them to good use?"

Still too surprised at what is actually going on, you are unable to answer.

Karina chuckles at the face you're making.

"What? Is this really so unbelievable?"

You slowly nod.

"Well, let me spell it out for you."

Karina steps inside the bathroom.

You watch her hand wandering in the direction of her zipper. Painfully slow, she starts to open her top.

"The three of us are horny. Desperate even."

She reveals more of her cleavage as she keeps talking.

"I need a man who can suck on my tits and make me feel good."

Only a second later and her tits are gonna spill out. Karina stops right before that happens. To your disappointment.

Instead, she steps forward.

"And I need a man who can rail me into the mattress. Make me scream."

Her hand finds your cock and she lazily starts to stroke it.

Only now do you realize how ridiculously short her skirt is. You have a good view of her tits now. She doesn't even have to open her top fully.

"Are you in?"

After just having Jihyo use you for her pleasure, you have the need to take out your own on someone else. Your fingers itch for you to just push Karina into the wall and fuck her brains out.

But you hold back for now.

"Of course I am."

She takes the box of condoms out of your hand, opening it and taking out a pack of one.

"Let's go then."

Her other hand takes yours as she leads you back into the bedroom.

"I need you to get hard enough first."

Karina motions for you to sit on the bed. As you move your clothes out of the way and sit on the edge, Karina kneels down in front of you. You watch as she finally opens her top completely. She isn't wearing a bra either.

Her tits bounce a little as they are freed, almost hypnotizing you. She takes both of them into her hands.

"You like them?"

You nod, licking your lips. The taste of Jihyo's still lingers inside your mouth.

But instead of letting you suck on them, Karina wraps them around your cock.

Her soft flesh slowly makes you hard. The warmth of her body adds to the sensation as she starts to move.

Slowly. Up and down. Up and down. You've never received a boobjob before. But it feels great. Better than you expected. Almost as if you are fucking her pussy.

Your groan makes Karina smile as she watches your tip glide in and out of her cleavage. The condom is lying on the ground next to her, forgotten for now.

"I can't wait to be filled by this."

She nods towards your cock, before spitting into her cleavage. The lewd action makes you even harder as you feel her warm saliva. It starts to coat your cock as she keeps bouncing her tits around it.

You are almost fully hard by now. If it weren't for Jihyo earlier, you would probably be on the edge of orgasm already.

"This feels good."

"Of course it does. This is what they are made for."

You see Karina shifting a little, indicating that she really can't wait much longer.

"You are hard enough now."

She let's go of her tits, making your cock lie against her cleavage without any friction around it.

Picking up the condom, Karina opens the package.

"I hope this fits you. I don't know if we have bigger ones."

You expected her to put it on herself, or just to give it to you. But you never expected this.

Karina pust the condom in her mouth, right between her teeth. As if she is showing off a round candy. She leans down and you feel her lips on your cock.

Slowly, Karina starts to pull the condom over your dick, giving you head in the process.

It takes two tries, but she eventually reaches your base. Her tight throat massages your cock and you can see what's written on the package that's ripped open and lying on the ground once again. Extra thin.

Of course.

Being needy herself, Karina doesn't waste much time. Her blowjob only lasts for a couple of moments, before she lifts her head off your cock.

"I didn't have anything in my pussy for ages."

She gets off her knees.

"You want me to go slow."

Your interpretation proofs itself wrong.

"No. I want you to use my hole like a fleshlight. Destroy my pussy."

That is something you would never say no to.

Getting up as well, you turn Karina around. She expects you to bend her over the edge of the bed. Instead, you make both of you spin around, before pushing her to her knees once more.

With her head pressed against the carpet, Karina can't see what you are doing, but she can feel how you make her raise her ass.

"Fuck, yes."

She moans as you put her into the perfect position. Her skirt slides off by itself and is now bunched up around her waist.

Without much build up you insert your cock into her pussy.

"God, yes."

Karina's moan is louder this time.

Since you just fucked Jihyo, you can't help but compare the two. Karina is definitely tighter. There is no reason to doubt that, although you think that Jihyo was wetter. Or maybe that was just the water in the hot tub.

Either way, you start to thrust into Karina. Her right cheek gets pushed further into the carpet as you bottom out inside of her in one stroke.

She feels your weight on top of her as you almost stand above her.

Half standing, half kneeling you start to fuck Karina. You don't start slow. Just like she wanted, you use her pussy for your own pleasure as soon as you thrust inside of her for a second time.

Karina mewls into the carpet. She didn't expect you to go this hard immediately.

"Fuck!"

She can't hold back a shout as she feels you hitting her cervix.

Meanwhile, Eunbi uses the hand blender incorrectly. Instead of making food, she uses it to get herself off. She couldn't help it. She got turned on by you during dinner, but she is too shy to make the first move.

Sitting on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, Eunbi has the blender stuffed inside her needy pussy. It's obviously not as good as your cock. But it definitely satisfies her enough for now.

The moans she hears from upstairs inform her of the fact that you are currently busy with fucking Karina's pussy. The younger woman's moans echo through the whole house.

Eunbi's mind is floating off into the dreamworld. Her improvised vibrator turns into your cock. Her hand in her black hair turns into yours.

With a quiet, almost shy shout, Eunbi cums around the vibrator. Her slick stains the steel, making it slippery. Some of her juices stain the tiles.

The sounds of you fucking Karina don't just attract Eunbi's attention.

By now, Jihyo has made her way up to the first floor. She is leaning against the wall of the room you are in, right next to the door. Her fingers are buried knuckle deep inside her pussy.

"Harder! Please!"

Karina's earlier dominance is gone by now. Just like her dignity. It's not like she can still save face now. With her head pressed against the floor and her ass high in the air. Her pussy being used by you while Karina is only able to moan and shout.

After Jihyo called herself mommy, you want to experience something similar with Karina.

"Tell me how good my cock feels, baby girl."

You grunt, making Karina shudder.

She asked Eunbi and Jihyo for a man, not a boy. Although she was sceptical at first, because of your age, she agreed to give you a shoot.

And right now, Karina feels a lot of things. And regret isn't one of them.

She loves how you treat her. Like a wet hole to jerk off your cock with. Like a toy, it's only use to make you cum.

"It feels so good! Fuck me, (y/n)!"

You chuckle as you take a step forward. You push Karina's lower body forward, while her upper body stays in place. The girl's weight is held up by her head, not her legs or arms.

Karina feels the blood in her system rush towards her head.

"Call me properly."

You give her right ass cheek a slap, making it jiggle a little.

"Oh god, daddy!"

Karina immediately knows what you want to hear. Her own preferences coming to light as you keep fucking her into the floor.

"Your cock is so big. You tearing my little pussy open!"

You take another step forward.

Karina feels how her feet are being lifted off the ground. She instinctively wraps her legs around your waist. She is almost doing a handstand by now.

Unbeknownst to you, Jihyo rests her head against the wall behind her as she cums around her fingers. Karina's loud moans made her orgasm once more. Her pussy dripping wet while she only thinks about being able to fuck you again very soon. She is slowly sliding down the wall, until she is sitting on the ground, needing to take a breather.

Karina is unable to take a break though. Her hair is a mess already as she is almost floating in the air. You keep her body steady as you keep fucking her.

"Daddy!"

Her shout signals her incoming orgasm.

With another loud shriek, Karina falls over the edge. Her pussy squeezes your cock. Moan after moan escapes her mouth as her body shakes.

You keep her in position, not caring if she needs a breather or not. It doesn't matter to you if she needs to calm down. You are too far gone by now.

You grip on Karina's hips tighter as you keep thrusting inside of her. You are standing directly above her by now.

"Daddy! Daddy! I'm gonna cum again!"

Karina didn't expect herself to be this needy. To be this sensitive. You keep wracking her pussy in this unconventional position.

It makes her orgasm for a second time. Another shriek leaves her mouth as she cums around your cock. Her pussy becomes a little tighter, while her body starts to become lifeless.

She is too tired to continue. And yet, she can't force herself to ask you to stop. The opposite is actually the case.

"Harder, daddy!"

She can't stop asking for more as you have your way with her pussy.

Karina cums for a third time, when you completely pull out of her pussy. The lack of your cock makes her orgasm around thin air, making her even more desperate for your cock.

You spin her body around, wanting to be able to look at her face while you fuck her.

You fold Karina in half, leaning on her legs as you thrust back inside.

"Fuck yes, daddy!"

Her eyes are wide open as she looks up at you. Your cock is drilling into her pussy hitting her cervix with every thrust.

You sling your right arm around her leg, reaching for her clit.

Karina tries to shake her head. But she can only feel the back of her head rub against the carpet.

Your thumb works her clit while you keep thrusting into Karina from above.

"Cum again, baby girl."

Karina is unable to answer. How is she supposed to cum for a forth time? Her body is completely spend. Completely wrecked.

And yet, her pussy craves more. It gladly takes your pounding as you reach forward with your left hand and take a fistful of Karina's hair. Her legs are being held in place by your own body.

"I told you to cum."

"Daddy!"

As if her body only waited for your permission, Karina orgasms one more time.

Her eyes roll to the back of her head. Her pussy tightens and you feel some of her slick leave her pussy. Her lips are glistening with her juices.

Karina stares up at you as she tries to recover from her forth orgasm. She is breathing heavily as you finally start to slow down.

There is still one thing she wanted you to do to her.

Using your current position, you lift your weight off Karina's legs and force yourself between them. You grab her waist with both hands.

She moans as you start to change your position, your cock still deep inside her pussy.

You slowly pick her up. Karina's body lifts off the floor as you start to carry her. Her legs wrap around your body, trying to keep her balance.

Karina's hands hold onto your neck as you start to thrust into her again.

"Fuck, daddy."

She sighs, too tired to scream right now. Her pussy feels used. She feels sore. It's an unfamiliar feeling, but Karina is able to enjoy it. After months of no sex, she is finally getting her pussy fucked properly.

You impale Karina on your cock as you stand in the middle of the room. Your hands have found her ass by now, squeezing her cheeks as you lift her up and down.

You aren't fucking her fast, which means that Karina can relax a little. She is getting used to this new position as you slowly move in and out of her.

"Your cock is so good, daddy."

Another sigh of hers makes you lean your head down.

You haven't given her tits any attention so far at all. Her soft skin tastes a little salty as you start to drag your tongue across her chest.

"That's it. Suck your baby girl's tits, daddy."

Karina moans as she arches her back, giving you a better angle at her chest.

You start to suck on her tits as you make her slowly bounce on your cock. The pace is too slow for you to cum, but it's almost the perfect pace for Karina.

The slow fucking turns her on as you carry her as if she isn't weighing anything at all. It enables you to enjoy her tits fully, while cleaning her skin of her sweat.

"Daddy."

Another deep sigh escapes Karina's lips as she feels how you slowly push her towards another orgasm. It feels a little different this time. As if it's starts from her tits and it's slowly making it's way towards her core. Your cock in her pussy makes Karina clench around it as you keep sucking on her tits.

"Almost."

She is unable to say more, her body too weak to do much more but enjoy the pleasure she is receiving.

You let your tongue flick against her nipples as you keep squeezing Karina's ass cheeks. Her soft flesh in your hands makes you want to pound her harder again. But you are currently focusing on her tits, trying to make her cum again

"Mmmmm!"

Karina is unable to open her mouth as she cums for a fifth time. Her nipples are covered in your spit as her pussy contracts around your cock. Her body becomes stiff for a moment, before she becomes a lifeless weight in your arms.

You keep up your lazy thrusting while you start to explore more of her body. You lick the salty sweat off Karina's skin, while you wait for her to recover.

Your tongue glides over her collarbone and her neck until it finally finds its way inside her mouth. Karina can taste her own sweat as you keep fucking her slowly.

"Make yourself cum, daddy."

She mumbles into your mouth.

"Use me."

Without a word, you squeeze her cheeks harder to have a better grip.

Your eyes meet and Karina feels a shiver run down her spine.

You give her one deep thrust, pulling her onto your cock while you push forward.

"Fuck!"

Karina's eyes roll to the back of her head as she feels you filling her completely.

"I'm gonna use your body, baby girl."

You kiss her one last time, before you pick up your pace.

"Do it, daddy! It's yours!"

Karina moans loudly as you start to destroy her pussy once again. Just like she wanted. You use her tight cavern as a fleshlight, pulling her onto your cock, whenever your thrust into her. She is helpless, unable to do anything but take your cock.

Not that she is complaining, really. Karina can't remember the last time she felt this good.

You drive yourself towards your own orgasm, using Karina's body as a tool. Her pussy's tight grip makes it hard not to pull out completely, which means you are always halfway inside of her.

Karina's head rocks back and forth as you keep fucking her, reaching your orgasm eventually.

"Karina."

You groan her name, trying to tell her you are about to cum.

"I want to feel it."

She sighs into your ear, her voice to weak to produce a proper moan.

"Feel it on my body. On my face."

It only takes you a couple of more thrusts, before you finally have to pull out. Karina almost falls to the ground, her legs too weak to hold onto your hips.

You make sure she doesn't hurt herself, dropping her on the bed. She slides off the edge, half kneeling, half lying on the floor.

Karina's face is dripping with sweat. Her hair sticks to her skin. She opens her mouth, her eyes wide open.

You don't even have to do anything anymore. Only aiming your cock at her, after pulling off your condom, you start to unload on Karina's face.

Thick ropes of your cum hit the bridge of her nose, her cheeks and her mouth. Some gets into her left eye, making her flinch as she feels it.

"So much, daddy."

Karina sighs as you smear the last drops of your cum on her red lips. She kisses your cock, starting to clean it as you take a fistful of her hair.

You admire your work, making Karina look up at you as she sucks your cock.

You still can't believe your luck. And this isn't even the end. There is still one more person waiting for you.

You planned on making your move on Eunbi after you came on Karina's face. But you didn't get very far. Jihyo intercepted you in the hallway. Not that you really mind though.

"That's a good boy."

She smiles up at you as you keep fucking her tits. The hot water of the shower hits both of your bodies as you are standing in front of a kneeling Jihyo.

She has wrapped her tits around your cock, while she occasionally catches your tip with her mouth.

"Be a good boy for mommy. Cum on mommy's tits."

She can feel how close you are. Despite just having fucked Karina, the combination of Jihyo's blowjob and now her boobjob pushes you closer towards your next orgasm.

"Fuck!"

You groan as you start to unload. The warm water hits your chest as you cum all over Jihyo's. Her cleavage is painted by your thick semen.

"Baby..."

Jihyo coos as she scoops up some of your cum. Most of its slowly gets washed away by the water. She sucks her finger clean, looking up at you.

"Delicious."

You almost choke on the fortune cookie in your mouth. After taking a shower with Jihyo, the four of you started to eat some ice cream. All servings are decorated with a fortune cookie.

The reason for your new near death experience? Karina purposefully letting some of her vanilla ice cream fall into her cleavage.

She had to take a shower as well and is now wearing one of the white bathrobes. Jihyo and you both have your old clothes on.

Jihyo can't help but grin at Karina's antics, knowing what the younger girl is up to. You glance at Eunbi, her cheeks a little red once more as she watches the youngest girl's bold actions.

Eunbi walks into the kitchen, holding two empty bowls. She asked if you could help clean the dishes and of course you said yes. She watches you for a moment as you clean the two bowls you brought in yourself.

Eunbi catches herself staring at your broad back as you turn around.

"Give them to me."

You reach out to her with both hands.

Because of the lack of another person's touch and all the things she heard over the last hour, Eunbi almost pushes her chest forward, instead of handing you the bowls.

Once she does, you wink at her, before resuming your cleaning.

"Come on. This is not so hard."

Eunbi tries to tell herself that. But for some reason, she can't help it.

"C-Can you s-suck my...?"

Her cheeks are the deepest of red as you turn around.

"Can you suck m-my tits?"

You chuckle.

Eunbi tries to hide her face behind her hands. What was she thinking?

But you grab her wrists, putting them down on her sides.

"I was waiting for you to ask."

Her eyes grow wide as you reach behind her, looking for the tie that's securing her dress. She feels your chest press against her face as you need to lean down a little.

Eunbi inhales your scent, closing her eyes. This is really happening.

She feels how you slowly unwrap the back of her dress as if she is a present. The front becomes loose as well and finally you pull down the black fabric.

You're met with a black bra that is holding up her beautiful pair of tits. Unable to take your hands off Eunbi, you let them wonder over her tight tummy, before cupping her mounds over her bra.

The oldest of the three women lets out a shaky breath.

"Are they alright?"

You almost laugh at her question.

"Alright? They are the best I've ever seen."

You hesitate for a second, before you add the last part of your sentence.

"Mommy."

You see goosebumps forming on her skin as you call Eunbi that. She doesn't seem to be dominant, but she strikes you as a rather caring older woman.

Opening her bra, you free her tits.

Eunbi watches you closely, biting her lip, while you lean down to kiss her chest.

Another shaky breath of hers makes you smile.

"You are so hot, mommy."

You're turned on by the fact that Eunbi is nearly a decade older than you.

"Please suck on them."

She sighs in pleasure as she feels your lips tracing all over skin.

You finally capture one of her nipples with your mouth, eliciting a moan from her. Another one quickly follows as you cup her other breast.

You feel her hand in your hair on the back of your head. She pushes you further into her chest, silently asking for more.

You pinch her nipple with your fingers, making her flinch.

"Yes, baby."

She murmurs, unable to hide her arousal.

It doesn't take long until Eunbi starts to lactate. She is more sensitive than Jihyo and soon, you are able to taste her milk. It's also a little sweeter. Almost as sweet as the ice cream you just had.

You are almost able to drink from her tits as she keeps lactating. Switching sides occasionally, you try to get as much as you can.

Eunbi is a mumbling mess by now as she leans against the kitchen counter behind her.

"Good boy."

She purrs as you keep sucking on her tits.

The constant rise of her arousal pushes Eunbi closer towards her orgasm. She never expected this to happen. She never even thought it could be possible that she lactates and cums at the same time.

But she does so now. A mewl escapes her lips as she ruins her panties. She has to keep herself steady against the counter, while you keep sucking her tits.

"How does this feel so good?"

Eunbi moans. She never had someone worshipping her tits like you do right now. And who can blame you? They are perfect in every way.

A second orgasm follows shortly after the first. Eunbi's legs quiver as she cums once more. This time, some of her slick starts to run down her thighs.

As much as you like sucking on Eunbi's tits and enjoying her milk, you also have the desire to orgasm eventually.

At one point, that desire becomes too strong to resist.

While you keep sucking her right tit, you fish another condom out of your pocket. You spin the two of you around, so that Eunbi is standing in front of you. You turn her around, making her back face you. Bending her over, you can see how her dress stretches over her ass.

"Fuck, mommy."

You can't help but squeeze Eunbi's cheeks over the fabric.

"Oh yes, baby. Give it to me."

It feels like Eunbi is slowly losing her shyness.

You reach between her legs, feeling the soft skin of her cum covered thighs. Quickly pulling down her black panties, you can feel how drenched they are.

"Mommy is so wet for you, baby."

You are happy to hear that Eunbi is starting to call herself that.

Sliding up the hem of her dress, you admire Eunbi's backside.

"Put in please."

You quickly put on the condom, before aligning your cock with Eunbi's snatch.

"Oh my god."

She moans as you push inside. You feel her walls parting as you penetrate her pussy for the first time. It's almost on a similar level than Karina's, although it's much wetter. You are actually surprised that Eunbi doesn't seem to be a squirter. Or maybe she needs to warm up first? You decide to find out.

Eunbi's head sinks onto the electric stove. Her black hair is sprawled out all over the glass.

"More please."

She moans, not satisfied with how slow you are thrusting.

Slowly picking up the pace, you make Eunbi's head rub against the black surface.

You can't believe that you are fucking a woman like her. In the kitchen. With her head on the stove.

This still feels like a fantasy to you.

"Give mommy that cock."

Another sigh from her makes you fuck her even faster. Your hips meet hers with every thrust.

Reaching out, you take a hold of both her arms and place them behind her back. Your free hand moves to remove the hair out of Eunbi's face.

"Oh my!"

She yelps as you pull her up by her arms, while you pound her harder.

Her upper body is now hanging in midair as you take her from behind. The moans she is producing can probably be heard throughout the whole house as her volume increases.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Instead of lying on the stove, her hair is now getting dragged across it over and over again with every thrust into her tight cunt.

More slick is running down her legs as you enjoy Eunbi's pussy to the fullest.

After some time, Eunbi's body finally proves too much for you. You try to fight your impending orgasm, but it's no use. You know you are going to cum sooner than later.

Eunbi can feel how your cock grows a little more. How it becomes a little stiffer.

"Oh yes, baby."

Her eyes are glued to the window. Because it's dark outside, it's almost as good as a mirror, reflecting the lewd scene that's going on inside the kitchen.

Her next sentence surprises you completely.

"Please breed me, baby. Cum in my pussy."

She sighs needily as you keep fucking a bend over Eunbi.

Is she for real? You already fucked Jihyo raw. So where could be the harm in fucking Eunbi without a condom, too?

But she is asking you to cum in her.

"Fill my pussy up. Shoot your load inside of me."

Her wide eyes make you think that she is just as surprised as you at her words.

"A-Are you safe?"

It feels like time is slowing down. Eunbi shakes her head no as her hair flies in all directions. Your orgasm reaches you faster than you thought it would. You only have a moment to decide.

"Please. Breed my needy pussy."

Eunbi moans deeply.

Her words push you over the edge. But you don't do as she says. Instead, you cum inside the condom.

Despite being disappointed, Eunbi can feel your cock twitch inside of her. She can feel the warmth of your cum inside her pussy.

"That was so good."

Her breath is as heavy as yours as she leans over the stove.

You check your watch. It's almost midnight.

Eunbi is lying in front of you on the dinner table. Her legs are wrapped around your waist, not letting you go. She is completely naked by now.

Karina is kneeling on one of the chairs, sucking on Eunbi's tits. By the way her eyes are closed, you can see how much she enjoys drinking the older girl's milk.

Jihyo is standing next to you, her hand running along Eunbi's left leg.

You have been taking turns, fucking the three of them throughout the whole night. You can't even count how many orgasms you had and you can't remember how often the girls came already.

The whole house smells like sex after you've fucked the three of them for hours.

"Fuck her faster."

Jihyo eggs you on, just like she did earlier, when you were using Karina's mouth as if it was just another wet hole.

The sight of Eunbi lying on the table is already enough for your eyes. But the evidence of your torture makes you fuck her even harder.

After finding out about her breeding kink, you and the two other women started to tease Eunbi.

You are currently wearing the last of the condoms that Jihyo bought in your size. The used ones? They are all spread out over Eunbi's body. One is placed on her shoulder, another one is in her right hand. Two are decorating her stomach.

They are all still full with your cum, painting one of the dirtiest pictures of Eunbi you could've ever thought of.

The last orgasm you had, made you shoot your load right onto her pussy. Not inside. But right above her clit, staining her neatly trimmed pubic hair.

"Please."

Eunbi whines, still hoping for you to cum in her.

"Cream pie me, baby. Breed mommy's pussy."

Her words become dirtier by the second.

Jihyo joins in as well.

"Cum in her tight pussy. Put a baby in her."

You are fully aware that you could get Eunbi pregnant if you cum in her. And it seems like she knows it too. Or rather, she doesn't anymore. As if her mind is too focused on you breeding her. She doesn't even think about the risks anymore.

"Please! Paint my pussy!"

Eunbi mewls as her cunt contracts around you. Another mini orgasm rushing through her system. How many already washed through her, she doesn't know. The number too high for her to keep track of.

One more minute, until the time strikes midnight. One more minute until the year 2024 begins. And hopefully one more minute of you, pounding Eunbi's pussy into oblivion.

"She would look so good with your baby in her belly."

Karina joins the two other women, trying to convince you.

"Right."

Jihyo whispers into your ear.

"Impregnate that slutty pussy."

"Eunbi."

You groan her name, still not entirely sure on what to do. Do you really give in to all of them? Or should you do what's safe?

"Please."

Eunbi whines, begging for a cream pie.

"Cum inside. Fill me with that delicious cum."

The clock shows that it's midnight as you pull out of Kwon Eunbi's pussy. As if time is slowing down, you pull off the condom.

One last time, you thrust inside of her. You can't believe you are actually doing this.

Your load fills Eunbi's pussy, making her orgasm once again. Her pussy milks you dry, trying to make herself pregnant. Your cum floods her belly, turning her insides into a sticky mess.

The night is a complete success. Instead of just satisfying the three older women and fulfilling your wildest fantasies, you do breed Keon Eunbi.

And not just once. Until the sun rises and the new day of the new year starts, you breed Eunbi again and again. Pumping her pussy full with your cum, almost drowning her in it.

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

(Additional scene)

Happy new years everyone!

I hope you enjoyed the last story of my December special. I really liked writing the four requests you all voted for. If the opportunity presents itself again, I will definitely do this again.

But because I have a lot going on in my life during the beginning of 2024, I will barely have time to write. The next fics I want to write are: the next chapter for "Take what you can", the second chapter of Sana's small series (on Tumblr) and the first part of another small series.

It's gonna take a while, until I will be able to upload them, but I hope you stick around until then.

I also want to thank everyone one of you for supporting my writing. I can't believe that I only started writing on Tumblr seven months ago and I already got this many followers.

1665 is an incredible number. Thank you so so much.

I wish you all a great start into the new year. Stay healthy and enjoy the next 12 months of your life.

Happy new years! Thank you for reading!

[torakowalski]

Continued from here but heading all the way back to the beginning. (Not yet) Olympic Swimmer Steve, Hawkins Public Pool, summer 1986:

Eddie isn't a natural swimmer, but he has to find some way to regain the strength those fucking bats took. So when he finds out that Steve and Max are both doing their physio in the public pool, he blows Wayne's mind by demanding he goes to Melvalds and buys Eddie some swim trunks.

Not that Eddie is a follower. But if the rest of Team Rehab is in the pool, then Eddie is gonna be in the pool too.

The problem is that now Eddie is in the pool. He's wet, he's exhausted, and he's wearing nothing except what's basically soaked, clingy underwear, while Steve fucking Harrington looks majestic and gorgeous, swimming lengths not ten feet away.

"It's better through binoculars," says Max. She's sitting on the edge of the pool, even more tired out that Eddie is. Eddie is half taking a break and half making sure she doesn't slide off the side and drown.

"Hm?" Eddie asks.

"Steve. Shirtless. It's hotter through binoculars."

Eddie has one second of limb-freezing, stomach-tightening terror, the same second he always gets, no matter whether someone is being too perceptive or whether he's deliberately outing himself.

He makes himself breath through it.

"Jesus Christ, Maxine," he says and gets kicked in the back for his troubles. He'd like to think the kick is gentle because she's worried about his injuries, but it's probably just the hardest she can kick, right now. "Maybe I'm looking at his form."

Max laughs. "Well, yeah."

Eddie gives up. He looks over his shoulder at her. She has the expression of a person who is cool about you being queer and also wants you to know that she's cool about you being queer and also is fifteen and doesn't want to have fucked up.

Eddie makes himself be brave back. "Is it me or is he just getting more built, while you and I flounder around over here, just trying to regain any muscles at all?"

"He's here like, all the time," Max says. "Like hours before us and hours after we go home. He says it turns his brain off."

Eddie can kind of see that; it's definitely harder to think about all the shit that went down at spring break when you're busy trying not to get chlorinated water up your nose.

"Doesn't he have his own pool though? I'm damn sure he has his own pool."

Max shrugs. "I think it got earthquaked." She lifts her head, using a hand to shield her eyes. "Hey, who's that?"

Eddie looks where she's looking and sees a middle aged dude in red swimming trunks and a white t-shirt squat down at the far end of the pool, catching Steve's attention when he surfaces after what must be his fiftieth length in a row.

They're too far away to hear what's being said, but Steve pushes his hair back off his face and bobs in place, clearing listening hard. They talk for a while, long enough that Eddie and Max both start shifting, Max - like Eddie - clearly wondering if they need to stage a rescue.

Then the guy nods to Steve and stands up, walking away, while Steve turns, looking around.

When he spots Eddie and Max, he swims over, all long, and golden and wet.

"Who was that?" Eddie asks, when Steve pops up next to them. "Trouble?"

"No." Steve shakes his head, clear drops of pool water flying from the ends of his hair. "No, he's a swim coach here. He says I'm good."

"Duh," says Eddie.

"You know you're good," says Max.

Steve grins. He does know he's good; it's written all over his face. But so is some bafflement and Eddie doesn't think that's faked.

"Yeah, but like, he wants to train me. He thinks I could compete?"

"Like at the Olympics?" Eddie asks, not totally sure where else swimming people go to swim.

Steve laughs, but only a little meanly. "Jumping a hell of a lot of steps there, Munson. But maybe State? I could maybe do State? I was supposed to be at tryouts last year, but." He shrugs.

"But Billy gave you a massive concussion," Max fills in for him.

Steve shrugs again.

Max kicks him, about as hard as she kicked Eddie. "You better have said yes to that guy or so help me I'll crawl after him myself."

Steve rolls his eyes at her, but they're sparkling. He looks excited, pleased in a way that Eddie hasn't seen for months. "Yeah," he says. "I said yes."

(Part three now here)

[ceesimz]

the taste of victory

(blurb after golden key to the sweet life + pt2)

"I knew you would be here."

Still in her Spain kit, this time with a gold European Championship medal around her neck, the effervescent captain came bounding over, understandably still on a glory high.

The Euros was a tournament that had plagued her ever since that injury, but now after coming out of international retirement, she'd done it. The trophy belonged to Spain for the next four years and Alexia had every right to relish in that fact like it was her first time winning a competitive title.

"How could we not come all this way?"

You, also in a Spain jersey, but who needed medals and trophies when there are two children on each side. Alexia had both achievements, one can only imagine her joy.

"You won, Mami!" Anaís squealed, her lanky limbs wrapping around her favourite champion just like a koala. Oriol was a bit more reserved, as he often was, definitely taking more of his Mami's introverted nature compared to Anaís who was the exact opposite of shy.

"Finally!" Alexia laughed, watching on as you rolled your eyes at her whilst she crouched down, Anaís still attached, so that Oriol could join. "Thank you both for coming. I'm sorry you had to miss your party."

Back in Spain, your neighbours were having a get-together for one of their four children they had that were all around the same age as Oriol and Anaís. The party they were due to host was the talk of the town, with a bouncy castle and a swimming pool and enough food to feed the whole of Spain, but ultimately Anaís and Oriol couldn't turn down the chance to fly to a new country to watch their Mami win yet another trophy. This was a pretty damn good excuse to not only miss the party, but throw one too when you all get back home.

You had flown on your own to watch two of the group games for Spain whilst your children stayed back at home for school until summer break, and the, albeit short and rare, time spent alone with Alexia was a welcome venture as it had been a while since that had happened. But being together as a four, celebrating the one title Alexia was missing from her vast list of accolades, well there wasn't much that could beat it.

"Felicitats, Mami." Oriol, the soon to be four year old, mumbled into Alexia's ear with his little arms clasped behind her neck.

"Grácies, amor meu." Alexia whispered, scooping him up with one arm as she holds Anaís' hand in the other and makes her way over to you.

There was a look in her eye, one you had never seen before. It frustrated you to no end that you couldn't quite place it, but that was something that would have to be unpacked another day.

"Family photo with the trophy? It is tradition." Alexia grinned at you, only for Anaís to groan beside her. "One photo, chiqui, then you can go play. Put Vicky in goal."

To no one's surprise, it looked like Anaís was swiftly following in Alexia's footsteps, whilst Oriol seemed to be a budding artist as he never went anywhere without his crayons. The two couldn't be more different, yet they got along better than most siblings, even with a larger age gap. Wait for the teenage years, Alexia would say anytime you brought it up, only for you to flick her ear and tell her to stop manifesting it.

"Mami, why do they call you a dinosaur?" Oriol asked innocently as the four of you headed over to the ceremony stage, oblivious to the painful jab he'd just sent his mother's way.

"Because she is old, Oreo." Anaís giggled to herself, sticking her tongue out at Alexia. The midfielder stopped in her tracks, turning to you with a displeased face.

"Amor, take him." She murmured, quickly handing over her son before lifting Anaís up by her armpits and sitting her on her shoulders. "Am I old if I can still do this? Pequeña mona, you are so cheeky. I just played two hours of football and won, yet you still call me old. What do I have to do?"

"Buy me some new football boots and we can forget this happened." You bursted out into loud laughter at that, because the only person Alexia had to blame for that sass was herself.

"Bien. You cannot call me old for a year yet, only when I am cuarenta. Mama is just one year younger than me, she's old too, no?"

"You just earnt yourself a night on the sofa when we get home, Ale. Another achievement, congratulations." With a sarcastic pat on her back, you march ahead of her as she's left scrambling to make up for her comment.

Ever since the word relationship was properly introduced to you as a teenager, you would worry that after being with the same person for so long, speaking to them everyday and sharing the same space, that it would get difficult and cracks would form. That never came to be true, in fact if anything, the foundations of your relationship only got stronger. There were days when things weren't easy, especially with two young children, but you couldn't have chosen a better route to go down.

It really had unlocked a life of bliss, just as the golden key had once promised.

"Oye, get back! It is our turn!" Mapi shooed away Anaís as the younger girl skipped over to the trophy.

The object was currently in the hands of Ingrid, with Mapi at her side and their two adopted children stood in front. Not so long after Alexia initially retired from the national team, Mapi had hung up her boots altogether. Ingrid was still playing, a senior figure for Barcelona and third in line of the captaincy role, whilst Mapi had flourished in the role of a stay at home mother. The Norwegian had taken a short break to make sure their children, a boy and a girl who were siblings, transitioned well into their home, and eventually their favourite weekend activity was going to watch their Mamma play.

"Hurry up, León! You didn't even play! And Ingrid isn't even Spanish!" Anaís bellowed, jumping head first into a teasing argument with the Spaniard at the outrageous claim she had made about Ingrid.

With that came a momentary quiet moment for just the two of you. Or, with Oriol too, but he was tired and more than content to slump against his Mama and take in the world around him. Alexia glanced over at her daughter and smiled seeing her bicker with her chosen family, before turning back to you where you were lightly rubbing your son's back to help him settle in the bustling environment.

"I cannot tell you how happy I am that you all came, cariño." Alexia told you quietly, moving to stand side-on so she could face you and also see Oriol's sleepy face. Her smile only brightened at both sights, and she raised an arm to rest around your waist whilst the other settled atop yours on the boy's back. "It is always the best surprise in the world, seeing you three in the stands."

"We would never have missed this, Ale. You must know that by now." You said to her, nudging her lightly.

"Well, I don't want to put pressure on any of you. It is a big ask from me to want you all to fly out here, but you did it anyway and I will always be thankful for that. You must know that by now." She reiterated the phrase back to you with a coy smile, one that deepened as you rolled your eyes affectionately.

"So, how do you feel? Eres campeóna de Europa." You grinned up at her, bumping your hip against her own as she chuckled and casted her eyes down to the medal hanging from her neck.

"It feels like completing the final chapter of a very long book, mi amor." She revealed after a moment. 

There it was again. That look in her eye.

“What's that?” You asked in confusion. She could only shrug and turn to look at her surroundings. Taking it all in. The moment feels very… final.

“I don't know. I just… I think this is it. What else is there for me to do?” 

You understand now. What she's hinting at is as gutting for you as it surely is for her, though it's probably at immeasurable heights for her. Definitely. The realisation steals your breath at first, solely because of the prospect of it, until it falls flat and the dust settles immediately. Because, really, who are you to argue with it.

“Are we on the same page?” You wondered quietly, and her eyes glistened with that familiar shine in the flood lights of the stadium.

“I think we are.” She smiled, one filled with an absurd amount of emotional complexity. It holds all stages of grief, yet peace can be found in it that tells you she's known this for some time. For a brief moment, you wish she could have shared this discreet burden, but it's a habit of hers you've never managed to break and at this point, you don't think you ever will.

“Qué, Mami?” Oriol suddenly lifted his head up, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Nada, mijo. Ven aquí.” Alexia gently pried him from you and cuddled him closely to her, her eyes closed as she rested her head against his. “Mami gets to spend more time with you now, mi tesoro, how good is that?”

“Sí, Mami. Tired.” Oriol muttered, turning to hide his face in her neck.

“Lo sé, Oriol. We can go rest soon, just a few photos, vale? Can you do that for me?” 

Almost four years with Oriol, a further seven with Anaís, and the sight of Alexia seamlessly slipping into caring parent mode was still a sight to behold. She had just won the one title that had evaded her for her whole career, yet the only thing she wanted to focus on was her family. And that was what made you want to have children with her in the first place. All these years, all the trophies and titles and achievements later, and she hadn't changed at all.

“Ale.” You hummed, catching her attention as she looked back at you with a soft smile and glossy eyes.

“Sí?”

You paused, hesitating over the one phrase that had tumbled easily from your tongue since your fourth date with her. The hesitation wasn't a bad one, you were just stumped on how to express such an intense feeling. Three words didn't seem sufficient enough. 

“I love you.” Of all the times you had said it before, this one felt the strongest. This one felt like it held the most meaning.

“I love you too, amor.” Alexia replied simply, though the slight quiver in her voice and the bob of her throat revealed she understood the gravity of it too. 

“Te amo.” Oriol sighed, and you suspected the goosebumps on Alexia’s arms weren't from the chill of the evening nor from Oriol's breath on her neck.

“Te amo mucho!” Anaís hugged Alexia's leg after bounding over, placing an exaggerated kiss to her hip.

In one place, on the pitch of a stadium somewhere in Europe, Alexia had got it all. One of the most notable careers of all time in the world of football, and a family with enough love to keep each other afloat through any and all storms.

Her eyes were closed as she hugged both her children, and had you looked away a second earlier, you would have missed how she wiped a tear that slipped out. In an instant, you joined your family, with one arm around Oriol and Alexia and the other on Anaís’ back where she stood hugging her Mami.

“Come on, let's go get your final photo as a futbolista before you hang up your boots.” You said, kissing her temple where she hung her head to fully embed herself in the embrace of her loved ones. 

It seemed like now was the moment it all came to a head for her, where every loss and victory, injury and medal, every sacrifice and gain, it all subsided and she was left with this one last memory of the sport she had given her life to. Truly, there was no other accolade she could collect. She had made every second of her career worth it, the only thing she could do now was reap the benefits. 

There was no doubt in your mind that, in a few years, she’ll be back to the sport that’s in her DNA at this point, except as a coach with the same goal she had as a player. But that’s a future worry, because for now the only item on the agenda was to make sure the final photo of her career is one of carefree, unabashed joy with your children.

With one final wipe of her tears from you, she took Anaís’ hand again and kept Oriol in her hold whilst your hand lingered on her back, and led the four of you to where the trophy was calling her name.

“What does it mean to hang up your boots, Mami?” A quiet but slightly blubbery chuckle came from the woman you loved, before she sniffled and looked to her left at you.

“It means I am going to retire from football, mija.”

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

How they sleep...headcanons

Includes my beloved Iruka, darling Kakashi, and dear Itachi (with bonus additions of lovely Shikamaru and sweet Sasuke) GN!Reader

Warnings: tad bit of language, and some raunchy bits (nothing crazy, reader discretion advised), tell me if this sucks

Masterlist💿

Iruka

He loves, loves, LOVES to cuddle

Even on the hottest nights of the year, Iruka still has his arm thrown over you, unable to get valuable sleep unless his bare skin was touching yours

Dies over being little spoon, adores it, and is internally screaming when you pull him close in your sleep

Sleeps in a pair of boxers, with the occasional t-shirt if he expects it to be especially cold in the night - the skin-to-skin contact with you usually keeps him plenty warm

Grinds his teeth in his sleep, and it makes his jaw pop in a painful way - but he refuses to get a nightguard because he heard it would make him drool

His hair gets messy in the night with how much he moves, but they're easy knots

Mumbles in his sleep, nothing coherent unless you prompt him, but he will always reply 'I love you more' even in the deepest slumber

Kakashi

Sleeps like the dead

If he's truly comfortable, Kakashi could sleep through a tornado without so much as a stir

That said, you will be locked into whatever position you fall asleep with him in, and he insists upon falling asleep with his limbs entangled with yours

Kakashi goes through violent hot and cold swings in the night, because his internal thermostat is broken - he doesn't move a muscle, used to the sweats/chills, but it prompts you to move around him according to the temperature swings

Gets multiple erections during the night

Has about fifty pairs of pyjama pants, some even have matching shirts, but will almost always fall asleep in his boxers

Sometimes, even if he does fall asleep with pyjama pants, he'll take them off in a half asleep daze at some point in the night

Goodnight kisses are a must every single night and good morning kisses are necessary every single morning, Kakashi's favourite part of getting to sleep next to you was the fact that your face was the first and last he saw in a day

Groans in his sleep, occasionally sighs your name, but is very silent and still, except for his face, scrunching up every ten minutes it seemed

Itachi

Goddamn somebody get this emmaciated man a warm bed and a long cuddle

He doesn't sleep much, and when he does, it's not continuous

Clenches his jaw while he sleeps, making it pop and lock throughout the night

Needs everything to be pitch dark and quiet as church service for him to hit even Stage 3 sleep, Itachi sleeps like a cat and will rouse with any noise

Frequent nightmares, and if he's having a peaceful sleep, it's dreamless

Sleeps best after a few orgasms

Loves feeling your body curled against him, so much so that even while sleeping, he'll stroke your back and whisper his adorations

Itachi always wakes up first and then stares at you until you wake up, he might play with your hair a little, but otherwise will just watch you sleep soundly

When you wake up, if there's time, he'll roll around with you, cuddling and kissing for an hour or two before he starts getting antsy to get up

Shikamaru

Falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, but that never stops you from cuddling up close

About twice a week, he falls asleep fully clothed, and you have to peel the clothes off his uncooperative ass or else he'll get all whiny in the morning, waking up in yesterday's clothes without a hangover

Truly a sweetie, Shikamaru's always pulling at you while he sleeps - never hard enough to pull you right to him, but enough for your unconscious mind to get the hint

Favourite thing is spending entire mornings with you in bed, talking, cuddling, smoking

Ticklish as hell so you cannot just be wandering your hands over him while he's sleeping; he'll smack you away harshly and turn away (but not remember anything in the morning)

Will fully open his eyes and sit up at various points in the night, say something strange, then just go back down

You keep a small notebook to write down the ones you catch because you love how embarrassed Shikamaru gets to hear what he was saying in his sleep (he lowk finds it interesting as hell though)

Goes through phases where he cannot sleep, but hates it when you insist on staying up with him

Nah jk he loves the fact that you're willing to disrupt your own schedule for him but would never ever ask you to do so himself

Sasuke

Has a very long getting ready process; including a 40-minute long bathroom routine, the selecting of pyjamas, then he might like to read a book to fall asleep in lieu to cuddling with you

Spending so many formative nights without so much as a goodnight from someone he cared about forced him to start this process as a way for him to say goodnight to himself

Likes it when you join him, but if he's had a long day, prefers to do his routine alone

While he reads, or stares out the window wistfully, he's not opposed to you lying on his chest and will kiss your forehead as you drift off to his heartbeat

Sasuke's always cold, so you guys have quite the thick duvet and he's always wrapped to the chin when you wake up

He prefers to wake up first, preparing tea for two before he wakes you up as gently as he knows how to

Gets out of bed immediately after opening his eyes, always ready to start the day (though much to his chagrin)

[lupinqs]

SAFE AND SOUND (1/3) ━━ pazzi

☆ ━ summary: in which azzi fudd forms an unexpected alliance with paige bueckers as they fight for survival in the hunger games.

☆ ━ word count: 10.1K

☆ ━ warnings: nothing yet really, should all be in the next chapter lol

☆ ━ links: part two, my masterlist, ao3 link

☆ ━ author’s note: if i had a nickel for every time i wrote one of my ships going to the hunger games together, i’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice 🧐 obviously this is a hunger games au so if you haven’t read the book or seen the movie or are not familiar with the premise, i don’t know how well you’ll be able to understand. alsoooo this part is lowkey very much buildup and not actual pazzi just mostly azzi; it was meant to be one whole part but it would’ve been too damn long so i split it!

“AZZI FUDD.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, everything stops. The world around her seems to freeze in time. Lucia Bliss, the escort from District Nine, says the name with a certain flair, her voice high-pitched and breathy, as if this is a celebration instead of a death sentence. Lucia’s purple hair gleams under the harsh midday sun, her too-bright smile a sick contrast to the crowd’s silence.

Azzi stands rooted to the ground. Her heart slams in her chest, and her vision narrows as shock seeps through her bones. She can’t move, can’t breathe. Her body is disconnected from her mind, numbness spreading through her limbs. She vaguely registers the weight of the stares from the girls around her—some wide-eyed with horror, others carefully blank. Azzi blinks. Is this real? She swallows hard, but her throat feels like sandpaper.

She never let herself think about this. Never allowed the possibility to take root. She spent the whole week worrying about her little brothers, Jon and Jose, her anxiety circling around them like a storm cloud. Jose, especially. It’s his first Reaping, and he’d been so scared he couldn’t sleep the night before. Azzi had promised him it’d be okay, that the odds were in their favor. She’d lied. And now it’s her name that hangs in the air.

Her legs feel heavy, like they’ve been weighed down with stones, but somehow, she forces them to move. One step. Then another. Each movement is stiff, mechanical, her body obeying while her mind is still reeling. The faces in the crowd blur into a mass of pale colors, and Azzi avoids looking at any of them directly. The sun presses down on her back, making her skin feel tight, suffocating, but she barely registers it. Her heartbeat thuds in her ears, a dull roar that drowns out everything else.

I have to do this. She repeats it in her head, over and over, as if it will numb the panic creeping up her spine. I have to get up there.

The platform is higher than it looks. It looms above her as she approaches, and the closer she gets, the more she feels the weight of the district watching her. Her hands tremble at her sides, but she keeps them balled into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She can’t afford to show fear. Not now.

She steps onto the stage, the wooden floor creaking beneath her shoes. Lucia Bliss beams at her, all synthetic kindness and hollow enthusiasm, like she’s completely oblivious to the fact that she’s sending a sixteen-year-old girl to her death. Azzi wants to scream, to shout at her, to demand to know how she can smile like that. Instead, she stands there, stiff as a board, staring blankly into the crowd.

She doesn’t look at her family. Not yet. If she lets herself see them—really see them—she knows she’ll fall apart. And she can’t afford to break down, not in front of everyone. Not here. The numbness is the only thing keeping her from collapsing.

“Now, for the boys!” Lucia announces, with that same bright cheeriness, like this is all just a grand spectacle and not a nightmare come to life.

The second name is pulled, and Azzi barely registers the sound of the boy’s name. “Kellan Ryder.”

Her eyes catch a glimpse of him as he stumbles forward—a scrawny boy with messy red hair and too-thin arms. He looks no older than fourteen, maybe fifteen at most. His face is pale, his mouth set in a tight line as he walks toward the platform like a condemned man heading to the gallows. There’s no strength in him, no fire. He’s shaking like a leaf, and Azzi knows his fate immediately. Anyone with a brain should. He won’t make it.

Kellan’s knees wobble as he climbs onto the platform, nearly tripping on the last step. His frightened eyes dart around, but when they meet Azzi’s for a fleeting moment, she sees it—the absolute terror, the resignation that’s already settled in him. He knows he’s dead. And now, she’s tethered to him.

Lucia claps her hands together, looking as if she expects the crowd to erupt into applause, but no one moves. District Nine never claps at the Reaping. There’s nothing to celebrate here.

Azzi’s jaw tightens, her hands still clenched at her sides. What now? What happens next? She can’t feel anything except a dull, creeping fear gnawing at the edges of her consciousness. It’s been less than five minutes since her name was called, but it feels like an eternity has passed. She feels lost, unmoored, floating in a space where time no longer makes sense.

As the anthem blares across the square, she chances a glance into the crowd—just for a second. Her gaze locks onto her family. Her mom is there, her face pale but strong. Azzi’s dad stands right next to her, an arm around her waist. They wear the same firm expressions—like they may actually believe their daughter can make it through this. Azzi can’t find Jon and Jose—they’re somewhere within the rest of the relieved crowd of boys who have been spared this year.

Lucia is speaking again, but Azzi barely hears her. The words are muffled, distant, as she’s ushered off the stage and into the cold interior of the Justice Building. Her chest feels tight, her throat burning from holding back everything that’s clawing at her insides, threatening to break free. She can’t let them see her cry.

Inside the Justice Building, it’s quieter, but the silence only makes her pulse race faster. She’s taken to a small room to wait. The goodbyes. They give her only a few minutes with her family before she’s whisked away forever.

Her mother is the first to come in, and the second the door closes behind her, the stoic mask she’s been holding up crumbles. She rushes forward and pulls Azzi into a bone-crushing hug. Katie Fudd does not shed any tears, but Azzi can feel her shaking against her shoulder. Trembling, but trying to fight it.

“You’re going to come back,” her mother says firmly, as if she’s manifesting it into existence. And then, more choked: “Please, Azzi. You have to come back.”

Azzi stands stiffly for a moment, then wraps her arms around her mother. She wants to promise that she’ll come back, that she’ll survive, but the words stick in her throat. How can she make a promise like that when she doesn’t know if she can keep it?

“I’ll try,” Azzi says instead, her voice hollow. I’ll try. It’s all she can offer.

Her brothers come in next, Jon leading Jose. The second Jose sees her, he runs to her, clinging to her waist like he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he lets go. His face is streaked with tears, his breath coming in ragged sobs.

“You’re gonna come back, right?” Jose’s voice is small, broken. Azzi’s reminded that he’s only twelve. “You have to come back.”

Azzi pulls away slightly, brushing the hair out of his face. “I’ll do my best,” she whispers, her voice trembling. She can’t say anything more than that. She wishes she could lie, give him something more hopeful, but the truth is all she has.

Jon is much quieter, and he stands back, his face hard as stone. But his eyes—his eyes are full of pain, full of everything he’s trying not to feel. When he finally steps forward, he pulls her into a tight hug, whispering in her ear, “Please try to come home.”

Azzi nods, her throat too tight to respond.

And then it’s her dad that gets her last, his arms wrapping around her softer, less firm. He rubs a hand along her back, rests his chin on top of her head. It makes Azzi want to cry. But she doesn’t. She keeps the tears in. Tim tells her, “Be smart. Don’t trust anyone.” And then he pulls away, meeting her gaze. His eyes aren’t sad, they don’t memorize the lines of her face as if this is likely the last time they’ll ever see each other. Instead, they’re firm, a fire burning in them, a fire that believes Azzi has enough spark in her to win. “You’re strong, Az. You find what you’re good at, and you stick to it. Just like shooting.”

Azzi nods, though his words don’t truly reach her. She’s good at basketball—great, even. The best shooter in her district. But the Hunger Games isn’t basketball. It’s entirely different.

The goodbye is over too quickly, the Peacekeepers ushering her family out of the room, their voices echoing down the hall. As the door closes behind them, the reality of the situation hits her with full force. This is happening. This is real. There’s no way out of it. In just a few days, she’ll be in the arena, and all that will matter is survival.

Azzi takes a deep breath, her hands trembling. She has to survive. For her family. For her mom. For her dad. For Jon and Jose. I have to win.

But as the cold emptiness settles into her chest, she knows it’s not going to be that simple. Not even close.

THE ROOM in the Capitol’s Remake Center is pristine and clinical—too clean, in fact. The walls are bright white, and the overhead lights are too harsh, casting everything in an almost sterile glow. The faint hum of machinery buzzes in the background, and Azzi sits stiffly on the plush chair in the center of the room, her back straight and hands clenched in her lap. She can feel the cold, unfamiliar air of the Capitol against her skin, a far cry from the familiar, earthy smells of District Nine. The whole place feels wrong.

Azzi’s mind is still spinning from the events of the past day, from the Reaping to the train ride to the Capitol. Everything feels like a blur—one unending nightmare she can’t escape from. The vibrant, colorful city that’s supposed to be awe-inspiring feels nothing more than a glittering cage, trapping her in a world that doesn’t belong to her.

A knock at the door startles her from her thoughts, and she straightens, her heart thudding a little harder in her chest. The door opens, and in walks a tall, slender woman with dark, shimmering hair cut into a sleek bob. Her skin is flawless, glowing in the artificial light, and she’s dressed in an outfit that’s both futuristic and elegant, all smooth lines and shimmering fabric.

She strides into the room with the kind of confidence Azzi has only ever seen in Capitol citizens, her heels clicking against the floor. When she reaches Azzi, she extends a perfectly manicured hand and offers a soft, warm smile.

“Hello, Azzi. I’m Seraphine,” she says, her voice gentle, as though she knows how jarring this experience must be. “I’ll be your stylist for the Games.”

Azzi stares at Seraphine’s hand for a second too long before realizing she’s supposed to shake it. Her fingers feel cold as she grips the stylist’s hand briefly, then pulls away, her eyes flickering nervously to the floor. She hasn’t said a word since entering the Remake Center, and even now, her throat feels tight, like it’s closed off from the weight of everything around her.

Seraphine seems to notice Azzi’s discomfort and doesn’t push her to speak. Instead, she walks around the chair, studying Azzi with a critical yet kind eye, taking in her features as if she’s a sculpture being examined for the first time.

“You’ve got very strong features,” Seraphine says, her voice soft as she moves to stand in front of Azzi. She lifts a hand, her finger tracing the air just in front of Azzi’s face as if imagining her canvas. “A really beautiful face. Great symmetry. Your nose is perfect—straight, but with just a little softness at the tip. And your lips,” she smiles, “plump and well-shaped, the kind people pay for here in the Capitol.”

Azzi doesn’t know what to say. She swallows hard and forces out a quiet, “Thank you.”

But the words feel hollow in her mouth. Two days ago, she probably would’ve flushed at the compliment and grinned at the woman before her. But it doesn’t matter now. Being beautiful won’t keep her alive. It won’t stop a sword or a spear. It won’t protect her when she’s standing in the arena, staring down a tribute who wants her dead. She doesn’t care about her looks. She cares about surviving.

Seraphine seems to sense the tension in her, but she doesn’t comment on it. Instead, she steps back and claps her hands together, her expression shifting into something more professional. “Well, we’ve got a lot to do before the Opening Ceremony tonight. The tributes from District Nine usually get an agricultural theme, but we’re going to make sure you stand out. You’ll need something that catches the eye, something that makes people remember you. The Capitol loves a good first impression.”

Azzi tries to focus on what Seraphine is saying, but her mind keeps drifting, her thoughts pulling her back to District Nine, to the faces of her brothers, her parents, their small home nestled in the farthest corner of the district. She feels like she’s been dropped into an alien world, surrounded by people who don’t understand what it means to fight for survival. Here, everything is about image—how you look, how you present yourself. But in the Games, none of that matters. At least, not to Azzi.

Seraphine motions for Azzi to stand, and she does so stiffly, her muscles aching from sitting so rigidly for so long. The stylist begins to circle her, appraising her figure and murmuring to herself. After a few moments of quiet contemplation, Seraphine snaps her fingers, and a team of assistants rushes in, carrying bolts of fabric and strange devices Azzi doesn’t recognize.

Seraphine smiles softly, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s shoulder. “We’re going to make you look incredible. Trust me, Azzi. I’ve been doing this for years.”

Azzi doesn’t respond. She lets the team of assistants work on her, trying not to flinch as they run strange tools across her skin, smoothing it, shaping it. They tug at her hair, pulling it back tightly from her face, and apply makeup to her cheeks and eyes. She’s never worn anything like this before, and the sensation of it all feels foreign, uncomfortable. The air smells heavily of perfume and hair products, nothing like the open fields and fresh earth of her home.

Seraphine watches closely, making small adjustments as the assistants work. “We’ll keep it simple but striking,” she says as she examines the fabrics. “District Nine is about agriculture, the backbone of Panem’s food production. So we’ll lean into that, but in a way that makes you look powerful. Strong. Like someone the Capitol will want to root for.”

Azzi barely nods, her mind half-absent.

The assistants pull out a long, flowing piece of fabric, the color a rich golden hue that shimmers in the light. It’s embroidered with intricate patterns, resembling the fields of grain District Nine is known for. The material clings to her body, forming into a fitted jumpsuit that accentuates her athletic build. The design is sleek and modern, with a slight flare at the shoulders, giving her the appearance of strength, while the fabric flows behind her like a cape made of golden wheat.

Seraphine steps back, admiring the final look, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. “You look incredible, Azzi. Absolutely stunning. This will make the audience remember you—beautiful, but more importantly, formidable.”

Azzi stares at herself in the mirror, her reflection almost unrecognizable. The girl looking back at her is a Capitol version of herself, someone polished and made to look like she belongs here. But Azzi can see right through it. She doesn’t belong here.

“How do you feel?” Seraphine asks, stepping up beside her.

Azzi hesitates, her eyes lingering on her reflection. She looks strong, she looks like someone people might fear. But the question gnaws at her, the same thought that’s been looping in her head since she arrived at the Capitol.

“Being beautiful won’t help me in the arena,” she says quietly, her voice low, as if the thought escapes her without permission.

Seraphine’s expression softens, and she places a hand gently on Azzi’s shoulder. “It’s not just about beauty. It’s about presence. The Capitol citizens, the sponsors—they want someone they can believe in. If they believe in you, they’ll help you. They’ll send you things you need. And that could be the difference between life and death.”

Azzi doesn’t know how to respond to that. She’s never thought about it that way—never considered that people watching her might care enough to help. She doesn’t know if she likes that idea, though. It feels too distant, too detached. How can she trust that some faceless audience in the Capitol will care enough to keep her alive?

But she nods anyway, her jaw tight as she looks back at her reflection. “I guess.”

Seraphine gives her a reassuring smile, but Azzi can see the flicker of something else in the stylist’s eyes. Maybe a recognition of the bleakness that comes with the Games. Or maybe just sympathy. Either way, it doesn’t change the reality.

And then Seraphine is clapping her hands again, signaling the rush of assistants and stylists bustling back into the room. They tidy up the last few details, adjusting the cape of shimmering gold fabric that flows behind Azzi, smoothing out any wrinkles in the intricate embroidery of her jumpsuit. The noise, the movement, all of it feels overwhelming, but Seraphine stays calm and poised, giving Azzi a reassuring smile before gesturing toward the door.

“Come, Azzi. We need to head downstairs. Your chariot awaits,” Seraphine says.

Azzi’s legs feel unsteady as she follows her stylist. There’s a gnawing anxiety low in her stomach, a knot that’s only been growing tighter since her name was pulled. She walks behind Seraphine, out of the room and down a long, marble hallway that echoes with the click of the stylist’s heels. The air feels heavier here, the anticipation hanging thick in the space around them as they make their way to the first floor.

The elevator doors open, revealing the Remake Center’s ground floor—a massive, gleaming stable. The smell of horses hits her first, a sharp contrast to the sterile air of the upper floors. The space is wide and open, filled with row after row of chariots, each one assigned to a different district, waiting to carry their tributes into the Opening Ceremony. It’s loud, too, with the sound of people bustling around, prepping the tributes, adjusting the horses’ harnesses, and giving last-minute instructions.

Azzi’s eyes dart around, searching for Kellan, her district partner. She spots him off to the side, standing next to one of the chariots, his eyes wide with fear and his shoulders hunched as if he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. He looks terrible, Azzi thinks, her heart twisting in her chest. Kellan is so young—fourteen—the same age as her little brother Jon.

In fact, Kellan could’ve been Jon. Could’ve been Jose. The thought makes her feel sick. He’s just a kid. And now he’s about to be thrown into a fight to the death.

Azzi’s stomach churns as she approaches Kellan, trying to think of something to say, something that might ease his nerves, but nothing comes to mind. What can she say? You’ll be fine? It won’t be that bad? It would be a lie. There’s no comforting truth here.

Lucia is already there, too, flitting around with her usual enthusiasm. Her bright purple wig bounces as she talks, gesturing wildly with her hands. She’s all Capitol—flashy and clueless, too caught up in the spectacle of it all to realize what’s really at stake.

“Ah, Azzi! You look fan-tastic!” Lucia exclaims, clucking her tongue and clapping her hands together. “Seraphine has really outdone herself this year.”

Azzi gives a stiff nod, but her attention is drawn to the figure standing next to Lucia.

Their mentor—Cyrus.

A tall, grizzled man in his mid-forties, Cyrus won the Games when he was seventeen, Azzi knows that. His hair is streaked with silver now, and his face is lined with years of bitterness and loss—an expression she’s come to recognize in former victors. Cyrus isn’t the warmest person, but he knows what it takes to survive, and that’s all that matters to Azzi now.

He steps forward, eyeing her and Kellan critically, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “You both look good,” he says, his voice gruff, as if the compliment costs him something. “But this isn’t about just looking good. It’s about making the Capitol love you. You need them on your side, or you’re dead in the water.”

Kellan swallows hard, his eyes darting nervously toward the chariots. Azzi can see his hands trembling slightly at his sides, and again, that pang of guilt hits her. He shouldn’t be here. He’s too young.

So is Azzi. So is every other tribute here.

Cyrus doesn’t seem to notice Kallan’s behavior—or if he does, he doesn’t care. He steps closer, his voice dropping into a low, urgent tone. “When you get out there, you smile. You wave. You make sure they see you, like you’re already a victor. The crowd loves confidence. They love tributes who look like they’ll win, not ones who are scared to death.” His eyes flick to Kellan, lingering for a second too long. “So you both smile. Got it?”

Azzi nods, even though the last thing she wants to do is smile right now. But Cyrus is right. They have to play the game, even here.

She turns her head slightly, trying to shake off the weight of the moment when something—or someone—catches her eye.

Just across the stable, standing next to another chariot with her district partner, is a girl. She’s tall for a girl, like Azzi is, with long blonde hair that’s been braided back into a bun. Her outfit is clearly themed around District Seven—lumber—and it’s made of rich brown leather, like freshly cut wood, with patterns that resemble tree bark. But what stands out most to Azzi isn’t the outfit. It’s her face.

The girl’s features are sharp but soft in all the right places. She has a defined jawline, high cheekbones, and a pair of piercing blue eyes that seem to flicker with something unspoken. She’s pretty—beautiful, even—but not in the overdone, Capitol way. There’s something natural about her beauty, something real.

Azzi’s breath catches in her throat as their eyes meet. For a moment, the noise of the stable fades into the background, and all she can hear is the pounding of her heart in her chest. The girl holds her gaze, her expression unreadable but intense, like she’s studying Azzi just as much as Azzi is studying her.

This girl is another tribute. Another person Azzi might have to kill. But the thought doesn’t stop her from staring a second too long, from letting herself get caught in the girl’s gaze.

It’s only when Cyrus barks something at them that Azzi snaps her head back around, her cheeks flushing as she tries to focus. This isn’t the time for distractions.

She forces her attention back to Cyrus as he continues giving them last-minute instructions. “Smile. Wave. Make them love you. Got it?”

Azzi nods, though her thoughts are still jumbled. She glances at Kellan, who’s biting his lip nervously, his eyes darting around the stable like a rabbit caught in a trap.

And then they’re being ushered toward their chariot. Azzi takes a deep breath, her legs feeling wobbly as she steps onto the platform, Kellan following behind her. The horses, sleek and muscular, are restless in front of them, their hooves clattering against the marble floor. She grips the edge of the chariot tightly, her knuckles turning white.

As the chariots begin to roll out, Azzi takes one more deep breath. She can hear the roar of the crowd growing louder, the excitement building as the tributes are about to make their grand entrance.

The moment they roll into view of the massive audience, the noise is deafening. The Capitol citizens cheer and shout, their brightly colored hair and outrageous outfits blending together into a sea of vibrant chaos. Azzi forces herself to smile, just like instructed, letting her dimples show through as she waves to the crowd, her arm moving mechanically as if on autopilot. She hates it—the way their eyes are all on her, the way they’re watching her as if she’s nothing more than a piece in their twisted game.

She’s never wanted attention like this. The only way she’d ever dreamed of being noticed was by playing basketball, maybe one day making it big enough to play in the Capitol’s professional leagues. But that was a stupid dream—something far out of reach for someone from a District. Even if she won the Games, even if she became a Capitol darling, she’d never be allowed to play. The basketball leagues are for Capitol citizens, not for tributes. Not for people like her.

Azzi keeps smiling, keeps waving, even though every second of it feels wrong. The crowd’s cheers grow louder, their excitement palpable, but Azzi feels nothing. All she can think about is the girl from District Seven—the girl whose eyes she can still feel on her, even now, as the chariots roll forward.

IT’S THE second day of training. Yesterday, Azzi found her strength—throwing knives. It was quick; the dagger was the first weapon she picked up and tried. And it just… worked. It surprised her at first, but as the blades left her hand, spinning in the air before sinking into the target with a solid thud, it felt almost familiar. The motion, the precision, the focus—it all reminds her of shooting a basketball. In her mind, it’s the same concept: aim, release, make the shot. Whether it’s a knife sinking into a dummy or a ball swooshing through a hoop, the goal is the same. And it comforts her in a strange way, turning something deadly into something she’s used to, something she can control.

Now, Azzi stands several feet away from a dummy, gripping a knife, the handle cool against her palm. She lines it up with the target. Her muscles tighten as she flicks her wrist, releasing the dagger. It slices through the air, embedding itself into where the heart of the dummy would be with a satisfying thud. A perfect hit. She lets out a slow breath, allowing a small flicker of satisfaction to cross her face. The trainers don’t miss it either, nodding with approval as they observe her from across the room.

Cyrus, her mentor, has been watching her closely since she got here. And, after Azzi informed him of her successes with the daggers last night and his compliments of her physique, the true muscle she has, it’s been clear he’s placing his bets on Azzi this time around. It seems there’s just no point in trying with Kellan.

As for Kellan, he hasn’t said much of anything since they were whisked away to the Capitol. He’s just a boy, and Azzi has watched the fear in his eyes grow with each passing day. Cyrus has tried to train him, to offer him advice, but Kellan’s barely even listened. It’s as if he’s already given up. Azzi sees it in the way his hands tremble whenever he holds a weapon, the way he flinches during combat drills, and the way he refuses to meet anyone’s gaze. He’s already dead in his mind, and Azzi knows that mentality will get him killed in the arena.

“Focus on yourself,” Cyrus had told her bluntly last night after dinner. “Kellan’s not gonna make it. You need to accept that now.”

Azzi had nodded, the truth of Cyrus’ words sitting like a heavy weight in her chest. She tried talking to Kellan once, offering him a few words of encouragement, but he barely even acknowledged her. After that, she stopped trying. She can’t afford to waste time or energy on someone who’s already checked out. It isn’t like she doesn’t feel guilty—she does—but she has to survive.

She can’t focus on anyone else’s survival but her own.

Today, Cyrus has her focusing on something other than knives. “You’ve got those down,” he’d told her before the session. “Learn how to survive the elements now. Plants, food, water. You need to know what’s safe and what isn’t. Most tributes die from hunger, dehydration—not all of it is blood and guts.”

So Azzi finds herself crouched in front of an information station, its holographic displays showing various plants, fruits, and fungi. She taps the screen, cycling through images of plants she might find in the arena, trying to commit them to memory. Which ones are edible, which ones are poisonous, which ones could be used to heal wounds. It’s not as exciting as knife-throwing, but it’s necessary, and she knows it.

She’s absorbed in her study, staring intently at a particularly nasty-looking mushroom, when she senses someone approaching from the side. Her muscles tense instinctively, and she glances up, prepared to brush off whoever it is—until she sees Paige Bueckers standing next to her.

Paige Bueckers. District Seven. Azzi knows who she is. She’s memorized all the tributes’ names and districts by now—it’s smart to know who she’s up against—but Paige was the first one she committed to memory. Maybe it’s because of the way Paige caught her eye before the opening ceremony, their silent exchange of glances lingering in Azzi’s mind longer than she’d like to admit. Or maybe it’s because she’s watched Paige train over the past two days and realized just how dangerous the girl really is. Azzi saw her with a sword earlier, moving with a deadly grace that sent chills down her spine. Paige might be one of the most skilled tributes here, and that’s saying something.

Paige is tall, even a little taller than Azzi, and her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail, a thin, black headband resting over it. Her sharp, blue eyes meet Azzi’s as she stops next to her, wearing a grin that seems completely out of place in the tense, competitive atmosphere of the training center.

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige says, her tone casual, as if they’re not preparing to kill each other in a matter of days. “District Nine.”

Azzi glances back at the screen, her brows furrowing slightly. She doesn’t know how to feel about Paige approaching her. She doesn’t know what she wants. This could be some kind of strategy—get close to your enemies, make them lower their guard. Azzi isn’t stupid. She knows better than to trust anyone here.

“Bueckers,” Azzi replies, her voice neutral, not giving anything away. She keeps her eyes on the screen, scrolling through more plant images.

But Paige doesn’t leave. She shifts her weight, bouncing slightly on her heels, like she can’t seem to stay still. The grin on her face widens, and Azzi feels even more confused. Why is Paige so friendly? Why is she smiling like they’re just two normal girls having a chat?

“So, you’re, like, really good with daggers, huh?” Paige says, her voice light. “I saw you throwing earlier. Pretty impressive.”

Azzi doesn’t look up. She sighs instead, her fingers hovering over the screen. “Guess so,” she mumbles. In the back of her mind, she knows she should probably be nicer. Paige might be trying to form an alliance, and with Kellan being a dead end, Azzi could use one. But trust is a luxury she can’t afford right now, and Paige’s enthusiasm throws her off.

Paige doesn’t seem fazed by Azzi’s short response, though. She keeps standing there, grinning like an idiot, her eyes twinkling with some kind of amusement. It’s unnerving how at ease she seems, how… happy. It’s probably a mask. She’s probably as terrified as the rest of them, and she’s just getting through it in her own way.

Nevertheless, Azzi can’t take it anymore. She turns her head slightly, locking eyes with Paige. “Why are you talking to me?” she asks bluntly.

Paige blinks, her grin faltering for just a moment. For the first time, she looks a little unsure of herself. “Um… I don’t really know, actually,” she admits with a small, nervous laugh. “Just… wanted to, I guess.”

Azzi narrows her eyes, studying her. She has no idea if the girl before her is being honest. But the sincerity in her voice catches Azzi a little off guard, and for a second, she’s not sure what to say. This is the Hunger Games. No one talks to someone just because they “want to.” Everyone has an angle. Yet Paige stands there, looking oddly genuine, like she really doesn’t have a reason. Like she just wants to talk to Azzi, no strings attached.

For a moment, Azzi’s walls start to crack. She considers the possibility—however slim—that Paige is just… a good person. It doesn’t make sense, not in a place like this, but the warmth in Paige’s smile makes Azzi’s suspicion waver.

“Well,” Azzi finally says, her voice a little softer than before, “maybe you shouldn’t.” She doesn’t look away this time, her eyes lingering on Paige’s, almost like she’s testing her.

Paige’s grin returns, softer this time, but still there. “Maybe,” she says, “but I’m here anyway.”

Azzi shakes her head a little, gaze returning to the screen. She needs to focus on this, not the girl beside her.

Paige doesn’t seem to be deterred, though, still watching Azzi with that easy smile, her eyes bright. “You’re pretty serious, yeah?” she says, tilting her head, almost like she’s teasing but not quite. “Locked in. I get it. Gotta be. But… we’re all here, y'know? Same boat.”

Azzi shifts her weight, feeling her jaw tighten. “I have to be serious,” Azzi mutters, her fingers swiping across the screen, though she’s not really paying attention to the plants anymore. Her heart beats a little faster under Paige’s gaze. “You can’t survive if you’re not.”

Paige leans in just slightly, and Azzi catches the faint scent of something sweet on her, like flowers. “I know that,” she says, her tone softening for a moment. “But you might need some help in there—if you wanna win.”

Azzi’s shoulders tense. The suggestion makes her uneasy, and her instinct is to push back. Help. From anyone, it feels too dangerous. It feels like relying on someone she can’t control. She barely trusts herself in this place, let alone a girl from another district who, let’s be real, could very well end up as an enemy.

“I don’t need help,” Azzi says, her voice firmer than before. “Especially not from people I don’t know.”

Paige’s smile fades a little, but there’s no frustration in her expression. If anything, she just looks… thoughtful, almost curious about Azzi’s reaction. It’s like she’s trying to figure her out, trying to see beneath the guarded exterior.

Azzi hates that. She doesn’t want to be studied or analyzed, especially not by Paige Bueckers. She’s already doing too much of that herself—constantly assessing everyone, weighing their strengths and weaknesses, trying to predict who’s a threat and who might just fade into the background.

“I’m not trying to get in your way, Azzi,” Paige says quietly, her voice losing some of its earlier lightness. “But, y’know, maybe we don’t have to be enemies. I’ve seen you, and you’re good. Like, real good. And neither of us are Careers and both our district partners are kinda duds, so I just thought…”

Azzi cuts her off, turning to face her abruptly. “Thought what? That we’d be allies? Friends?” She shakes her head, ignoring the strange knot of tension building in her chest. Paige might be trying to help, but Azzi doesn’t want it. She can’t want it. Not here. “It doesn’t work like that. I don’t work like that. Sorry.”

Paige stands there, still watching her, and for a second, Azzi thinks she sees something flicker in Paige’s eyes—disappointment, maybe, or understanding. But Paige doesn’t push back. She just nods once, a slow, thoughtful thing.

“Okay,” Paige says, stepping back a little, giving Azzi space. Her smile returns, softer, but still there. “I get it. Just… keep doin' what you’re good at.”

Azzi feels a strange pang in her chest as she watches Paige step away, like maybe she’s made a mistake. But no—she can’t think like that. She needs to stay focused, stay sharp, stay alone. That’s how she’ll survive.

Without another word, Azzi turns on her heel and walks away, her heart beating faster than before.

THE PINK dress hugs Azzi’s figure, its soft blush fabric shimmering under the bright lights of the dressing room. It’s not something she’s ever imagined herself wearing—not this shade, not this tight. She looks almost like a Capitol citizen now, polished and flawless in her own right.

The dress has a high neckline and delicate straps that crisscross her shoulders, falling in elegant folds down to her ankles. It’s simple, yet the color makes her stand out, glowing softly against her dark skin. Her hair is styled in loose waves, not unlike the Capitol’s obsession with effortless beauty, with the font pieces pulled back into braids. The makeup is light but dramatic—plump lips, accentuated cheekbones, and eyes that pop with a subtle pink shimmer.

Seraphine steps back, admiring her work with a satisfied smile. “You look stunning, Azzi. Like a dream.”

Azzi nods, not fully meeting Seraphine’s gaze. She knows she looks good, but it doesn’t feel like her. The face staring back at her in the mirror is a version of herself she doesn’t recognize. It’s not the Azzi from District Nine; it’s not the girl who shoots hoops with her brothers or helps her dad tend to the crops. It’s someone else—someone made for the Capitol’s stage. Someone for their entertainment.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, though her voice lacks enthusiasm. Seraphine doesn’t seem to mind. She knows by now that Azzi is serious, focused. There’s no time for compliments when the Games are looming.

Seraphine’s assistant adjusts the hem of Azzi’s dress one last time before stepping aside. “You’ll knock them dead,” she says with a wink, though the words sit heavy with the weight of their meaning. Knocking them dead. That’s quite literally what Azzi will have to do soon enough.

As she’s led out to the waiting area before the interviews, Azzi’s mind begins to drift. She thinks back to the training evaluations, how she had scored a 10—one of only four tributes to do so. A 10 is good, she knows that, but the competition is fierce. Both the girl and boy from Two scored 10s and Paige managed a 10 as well. There are other tributes with 9s, plenty who will be formidable in their own right. But Paige? Paige is different. She’s unpredictable, unnervingly skilled. And something about her makes Azzi feel a pang of unease.

As Azzi settles into her seat backstage, waiting for her interview with Caesar Flickerman, she watches the other tributes’ interviews on the screen. The Careers are all flashy and confident, playing up their deadliness to the crowd’s delight. Caesar eats it up, grinning and laughing as they boast about their skills and charm the Capitol audience. The boy from District Four also stands out—tall, muscular, and intimidating. A strong swimmer, no doubt. He’ll be dangerous, especially if the arena is at all water-based.

But none of them hold a candle to Paige.

When Paige steps onto the stage, it’s as if the entire room shifts. She looks stunning, effortlessly cool, in a crisp white suit that contrasts sharply with the frilly dresses most of the other girls have chosen. Her hair is down, styled in soft, wavy locks, with the top half pulled back in a way that highlights her sharp features. She looks more masculine than the other girls, but somehow that works in her favor. It’s not just that she’s different—it’s that she owns it. The Capitol loves different.

Azzi watches, unable to tear her eyes away, as Paige charms the entire crowd. She’s funny, confident, and just the right amount of cocky. Caesar practically beams at her, and the audience is eating out of the palm of her hand.

“You’re quite the swordswoman,” Caesar says, raising his eyebrows in admiration. “I saw your score, Paige—a 10! That’s incredible.”

Paige just grins, shrugging casually. “You know, I try.”

The crowd laughs, and Cyrus begins to mutter under his breath. “Damn it,” he says, shaking his head as he runs a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “She’s going to have sponsors lined up around the block.”

Azzi knows he’s right. Paige isn’t just skilled—she’s magnetic. People want to root for her. She’s dangerous, yes, but she’s also got this charm that makes you want to see her win, even if that means she’ll be killing people to get there.

Azzi swallows hard, feeling a knot form in her stomach. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she’s drawn to Paige, too. There’s something about her that pulls Azzi in—her confidence, her grace under pressure, her ease in the face of what’s to come. It’s not just attraction, though she can’t deny that Paige is beautiful. It’s more than that. There’s something about Paige that makes Azzi feel like she’s… alive. Like she’s not just surviving, but living fully in the moment, despite everything. Ironic, considering Paige could be the one to kill Azzi in that arena—or vice versa.

And Azzi hates that she feels this way. She shouldn’t be drawn to Paige. She shouldn’t be thinking about how Paige’s eyes had locked onto hers back at the opening ceremony, or how Paige had approached her during training, trying to talk like they were friends. None of it matters. Paige is just another tribute, another obstacle standing between Azzi and survival.

But still… there’s something about her.

As Paige’s interview wraps up, the crowd erupts in applause, and Caesar gives her a hug before she leaves the stage. Azzi watches as Paige walks off, her suit practically glowing under the stage lights. For a brief moment, Paige glances in Azzi’s direction, their eyes meeting across the room. It’s quick—just a fleeting second—but Azzi feels her heart skip a beat before she looks away, reminding herself why she’s here.

Just two interviews later, Azzi is taking a deep breath as the lights hit her, stepping forward onto the stage. The crowd is massive, louder than she imagined, and their cheers seem to echo in her chest. Her eyes land on Caesar Flickerman, who’s grinning wide at her as she approaches him, his flamboyant suit sparkling under the stage lights.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to Azzi Fudd from District Nine!” Caesar announces, and the crowd’s cheers grow even louder.

Azzi sits down next to Caesar, her fingers resting awkwardly in her lap. Despite the excitement around her, she feels the familiar nervousness bubbling up inside. This isn’t her element—talking, being the center of attention. She’d rather be on the sidelines, unnoticed, but here, there’s no avoiding it.

“Azzi, you look absolutely radiant tonight!” Caesar says, his voice warm and enthusiastic. “Tell me, how does it feel to be here in the Capitol, getting all this attention?”

Azzi smiles politely, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress. “It’s… different,” she says softly. “I’m not really used to it. But it’s nice, I guess. Everyone’s been very kind.” Very kind because they probably know I’ll be dead in a couple weeks.

Caesar nods, leaning in slightly. “I can imagine it’s quite a change from life in District 9. Tell me, what’s life like back home?”

Azzi pauses, her mind drifting back to the open fields and the quiet days of working alongside her family. “It’s simple,” she says. “We work hard, but it’s peaceful. Most of my days I’m just spending time with my family, doing the chores or playing basketball. It’s nothing like here, but it’s home.”

Caesar smiles warmly, sensing the connection she has to her district. “Family, huh? I bet they’re watching right now, rooting for you. Tell me, do you have a big family?”

Azzi shrugs a little. “Not too big, not too small, I think. There’s my parents, and then I have two younger brothers. And we’re still very close to my grandparents. I just… love my family, they’re very supportive. They’re great.” She feels her throat get choked up by the end of the sentence, not wanting to think too much about her family, how much she misses them. Even though, truthfully, she knows she should be thinking about her family because that is what needs to be her motivation. She needs to win this for them, no matter how impossible it may seem.

The crowd gives a soft murmur of approval, and Caesar’s grin widens. “That’s wonderful. Sounds like you’ve got a lot of people cheering you on back home. And speaking of support…” He pauses dramatically, the audience clearly hanging on his every word. “Any special someone out there you’re hoping to impress? Perhaps a crush back home?”

Azzi’s eyes widen a little at the question, feeling her face heat up. A crush. That is quite literally the last thing on her mind right now. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, not sure how to answer without sounding awkward.

“I, um… no,” she says with a laugh that’s more nervous than she intended. “Not really. I’ve been focused on training, so… no time for that.”

Caesar laughs good-naturedly, waving a hand as if to brush off the question. “Oh, I get it, I get it! Training comes first, of course. But I’m sure there are plenty of admirers in the Capitol who are wishing they could get your attention.”

The crowd cheers in agreement, and Azzi can’t help but smile a little at their enthusiasm, though she still feels her nerves fluttering in her stomach.

“But let’s talk about something fun,” Caesar continues, changing gears smoothly. “You’ve been in the Capitol for a little while now. What’s your favorite part so far? The food? The fashion? The luxury?”

Azzi takes a moment to think, glancing down at her dress. It’s true, everything in the Capitol has been overwhelming—lavish and excessive compared to the modest life she’s known back in her district. But there’s one thing that stands out to her more than anything.

“The food,” she answers with a small smile. “I’ve never seen so much of it in my life. And it’s all so… colorful. I didn’t even know you could make food look like that.”

Caesar chuckles. “Colorful! I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.” He hits his knee as he laughs, the audience giggling with him. “But, yes! The Capitol chefs do love their extravagant dishes. Has there been anything in particular that’s caught your eye?”

“Honestly, the desserts,” Azzi admits, her smile widening. “There was this cake we had the other night, and it was shaped like a swan. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was so good.”

The crowd laughs once more, clearly charmed by her innocence, and Caesar claps his hands together. “A girl after my own heart! Who can resist a good dessert, right?”

Azzi relaxes a little more, finding it easier to talk now that the conversation has shifted to lighter topics. Caesar’s friendliness helps, and she realizes that, for the first time, the crowd isn’t as intimidating as she thought they’d be.

“You know, Azzi,” Caesar says, his tone softening just a bit, “you’ve got this quiet strength about you. I think a lot of people are really drawn to that. You don’t need to be loud or flashy to make an impact. And clearly you have made an impact—you scored a ten in the training. I mean, come on!”

Azzi smiles a little bit at the validation, her dimples poking through. “Thank you,” she says, nodding. And then she shrugs, her lips quirking up a little further as she adds, “I try.”

Caesar and the crowd chuckle at the action. “Well, you’ve certainly done well,” he tells her earnestly, before adding, with a wink, “And I have to say, your smile is absolutely infectious. I think you’ve got the whole crowd wrapped around your finger.”

The audience cheers again, louder this time, and Azzi feels her face heat up.

“Well, Azzi, it’s been an absolute pleasure talking to you tonight,” Caesar says, standing and offering his hand to help her up. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we’re all rooting for you.”

Azzi stands, shaking Caesar’s hand and giving the crowd a small wave as they erupt into applause. As she walks off the stage, back to where Seraphine, Lucia, and Cyrus are waiting, the adrenaline from the interview still buzzes through her.

Lucia beams at her as she approaches, her hands rushing to cup Azzi’s cheeks. “You were perfect, Azzi! Absolutely perfect.”

Seraphine nods in agreement. “The crowd loves you. You’re going to get so many sponsors, I just know it.”

Even Cyrus gives her a rare grin, clapping her on the shoulder. “You did good out there, kid. Real good. I think you’ve got them in the palm of your hand now.”

Azzi lets out a breath, the tension slowly leaving her body as she realizes she’s done it. She got through the interview, and didn’t just survive it—she actually made a connection, made herself heard and liked. The Capitol might not feel like home, but for now, at least, she knows she’s done everything she can to stand out in the best way possible.

THE MORNING is unnervingly quiet. Azzi walks beside Cyrus, the soles of her shoes barely making a sound on the sleek marble floors of the Capitol building. They’re headed toward the hovercraft, the final step before the arena. The place where everything will change. Each step closer feels heavier, the weight of what’s coming settling into her bones.

Cyrus walks just ahead, his brow furrowed in thought. Azzi knows well enough that he’s not the type for overly emotional goodbyes, but there’s a seriousness to him today that wasn’t there during training. His hands are tucked into his pockets, and Azzi notices the faint lines of tension in his jaw. She’s quiet, still processing the fact that in just a few hours, she’ll be fighting for her life.

As they near the docking area, Cyrus stops abruptly, turning to face her. His eyes are sharp, cutting through the nervous haze that’s settled over her.

“Listen to me, Azzi,” he begins, voice low but firm. “This is it. From here on out, it’s all strategy. Everything you do, every move you make—it has to be calculated, smart.”

Azzi nods, her throat tightening as she listens.

“I know it’s not in your nature to trust easily, but in the arena, you’ll need to be even more cautious,” he continues. “Don’t form alliances unless it’s strategically sound. I don’t care if they seem friendly or if they remind you of someone from back home—trust no one unless it gives you an advantage.”

His words cut deep, and she swallows hard. She hasn’t really thought much about alliances, but it’s clear that Cyrus has. He knows this game inside and out.

“And whatever you do, keep your emotions in check,” Cyrus adds, his gaze hardening. “The moment you start caring too much about anyone in there, you’ve already lost. I know you’re good-hearted, Azzi, but that’s not going to save you—not in the Games.”

She doesn’t say anything, just nods again. The lump in her throat grows as the reality of what’s coming washes over her.

“And the bloodbath.” Cyrus pauses, before his voice lowers slightly. “The moment those platforms rise, it’s going to be chaos. Don’t linger. Don’t get caught up in the fight unless it’s unavoidable. Get what you need and get out. Do you understand?”

Azzi meets his eyes, the weight of his words settling deep in her chest. “I understand,” she says softly.

He studies her for a moment, and for the first time since they arrived in the Capitol, Cyrus’s tough exterior seems to soften. His hand reaches out, resting on her shoulder, and the squeeze he gives is firm, reassuring.

“I believe in you,” he says quietly, his voice sincere. “You’re smart, and you’ve trained hard. I’m going to do everything in my power to help get you home.”

Her eyes well up slightly at his words, but she quickly blinks back the tears. She can’t afford to be emotional right now. There’s no space for it.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, barely able to get the words out past the lump in her throat.

Cyrus nods once, and then he’s stepping back, his hand falling away from her shoulder as they reach the hovercraft. Seraphine is already there, waiting for Azzi, her usual cheerful demeanor muted with the solemnity of the day. The metallic hiss of the hovercraft’s door opening sends a shiver down Azzi’s spine. This is it.

Without another word, Azzi steps inside. Seraphine follows, offering a small, reassuring smile as the door slides shut behind them. The hovercraft hums softly as it lifts off, heading toward the arena.

Inside, the sterile, clinical atmosphere makes her stomach churn. A Capitol medic approaches her almost immediately, a small syringe in hand. Azzi barely flinches as the needle pierces her skin, injecting the tracker into her forearm. She knows it’s necessary. They need to know where she is at all times. It’s standard procedure, but it still makes her feel like livestock.

Seraphine sits beside her, her usual flair for Capitol fashion stark against the dull surroundings of the hovercraft. She doesn’t say much, just watches as Azzi rubs her arm where the tracker was inserted. The silence is heavy, filled with unspoken words, and it’s not long before they arrive at the underground facility just outside the arena.

Once inside, they’re led into a small room where Azzi is handed her arena outfit—a black, water-resistant suit that fits snugly against her frame. It’s durable, sleek, and clearly meant for endurance. The material feels odd against her skin, foreign compared to the simple, looser clothes she’s worn most of her life.

She glances at herself in the mirror. The suit is practical, but its design tells her something about the arena. Water. The Capitol is hinting that water will play a significant role in the Games. Maybe a jungle, maybe a lake, or something more treacherous. Her mind races with possibilities, but she pushes the thoughts aside. She’ll find out soon enough.

As she pulls the last of the suit into place, Seraphine watches her carefully, her eyes glassy. The usually confident stylist seems suddenly small, fragile, as if she’s struggling to keep herself together. She steps forward, her hands gently smoothing the fabric of Azzi’s suit, her fingers trembling slightly.

“You’re going to be alright, Azzi,” Seraphine says softly, her voice cracking just a little. “You’ve been so strong. You’re going to make it back—for your family. I know you will.”

Azzi’s chest tightens at the words. Seraphine’s sincerity, her belief that Azzi can survive this—it’s almost too much to bear.

“Thank you,” Azzi whispers, her voice barely audible.

Seraphine pulls her into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around Azzi’s frame with surprising strength. It’s brief, but Azzi feels the weight of Seraphine’s worry in that embrace. It’s like she’s saying goodbye.

When they pull apart, Seraphine’s eyes are red-rimmed, though she’s trying her best to hold it together. “Good luck, Azzi,” she says, her voice shaky. “You’re going to be okay.”

Azzi swallows the lump in her throat and nods. She doesn’t trust herself to speak, so she just gives Seraphine a small, grateful smile.

The door to the launch chamber opens, and it’s time.

Azzi steps into the glass cylinder, her heart pounding in her chest. The last thing she sees before the platform begins to rise is Seraphine, standing in the doorway, her hands clasped tightly together as if in prayer.

And then the ground shifts beneath her feet, and she’s lifted upward, the glass tube carrying her toward the surface. Toward the arena.

The first thing she notices is the intense humidity. The air is thick, almost suffocating, and it clings to her skin. As her eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, she realizes why—it’s a jungle. Dense, tangled vines hang from towering trees, their massive roots weaving through the ground like some ancient network. The ground beneath her platform is slick with mud, and just beyond the edge of the platform is a large body of water—a vast lake, its surface calm and unnervingly still. It stretches out as far as she can see, bordered by the dense jungle on one side and the metallic glint of the Cornucopia in the center.

Water. She was right.

Azzi’s gaze darts to the other tributes. There’s movement all around her, platforms rising as the others are pulled into view. Some faces are familiar from the training center, others not so much. She spots the Careers first—the boy and girl from District Two, standing tall and confident, both of them dangerous and ready. Their eyes are already locked on the Cornucopia, clearly prepared to kill anyone who stands in their way.

A few spots down, she sees Kellan. His face is pale, his eyes wide with fear. He looks like he’s barely holding it together, his body stiff as if he might bolt the second the gong sounds. He’s trembling slightly, and Azzi’s heart tugs at the sight. He’s not going to last long, not with that kind of fear weighing him down. But she can’t afford to think about him—about anyone, really. Cyrus’s voice echoes in her mind: Don’t get too close to anyone.

She swallows hard, her gaze shifting back to the Cornucopia. The metallic structure gleams in the sunlight, stacked with supplies—everything they’ll need to survive. Weapons, food, water. But it’s a death trap. The Careers will get there first, and they’ll cut down anyone who tries to take something they’ve claimed.

Azzi’s eyes flick to the jungle behind her. It might be safer to head for cover, to avoid the bloodbath entirely. But then again, if she doesn’t grab something now, she could be left empty-handed, vulnerable. She forces herself to breathe deeply, trying to focus on her strategy. It has to be quick, precise. She’ll grab something—anything—and get out. That’s it. Nothing fancy.

The countdown begins, the metallic voice booming over the arena. Sixty seconds.

Azzi’s heart races as the clock ticks down. She glances around once more at the other tributes, trying to gauge their movements before it’s too late. Some are already tensing, their eyes glued to the Cornucopia. Others, like Kellan, are frozen in place, terrified to move. Far across from her, Azzi thinks she sees a flash of blonde hair. Paige. She wonders if she’s scared right now.

Thirty seconds.

Azzi’s hands ball into fists at her sides, every muscle in her body tightening. The humidity, the jungle, the water—it all presses in on her, but she pushes the fear down. She can’t afford to freeze up. She won’t.

Fifteen seconds.

Her pulse pounds in her ears, the world around her narrowing to just the Cornucopia and the water at her back. She feels the weight of everything—Cyrus’s words, Seraphine’s hope, the Capitol’s eyes—bearing down on her. It’s overwhelming, but she won’t let it break her.

Ten seconds.

The other tributes are crouching now, their bodies taut, ready to sprint the moment the gong sounds. Azzi glances at the Cornucopia again, her mind calculating every possible move, every route.

Five seconds.

Her heart hammers in her chest, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

Three.

She digs her heels into the platform.

Two.

Her hands tremble.

One.

The gong sounds.

The Sixtieth Hunger Games have begun.

[mymegumi]

03:47 ෆ ITADORI YUUJI

⠀ for: @driaswrld sorry pookie for the emotional dmg (-ω-、)

“yuu,” you grunt, hands flailing out in the darkness as you try to push your lug of a boyfriend away from you, “stars, you need to stop eating so much, you weigh as much as a tractor trailer.”

the response you get is a long snore, followed by the soft smacking of his lips.

normally, you wouldn’t complain about your sweet boy’s body weight or the comforting pressure of his limbs draped over you, but currently, you’re facing a singularly unique experience that no one has ever seen happen before—you need to pee. badly. yuuji has been bulking lately, meaning for dinner you have to make about three servings of food, all for him, and then a fourth serving for yourself (of which he usually finishes off for you if you can’t manage to eat it all).

not to say you dislike watching your boyfriend’s gym experiences, or even that you discourage them, but you’re just annoyed now that he’s gained about 5-10 pounds of muscle mass that you can barely manage to push him off of you.

he’s not a gentle sleeper. in fact, he’s single-handedly the most violent sleeper you’ve ever met and the first time you’d stayed over at his apartment, he scared you awake at least three or five times. now, you’re so used to his sudden spasms and uncontrollable snoring that it hardly phases you, or you can just ignore it and fall asleep again, but the discomfort of needing to pee has taken precedence over anything else.

yuuji is truly lucky you love him more than anything else, right now, because he’s star-fished himself across your queen-sized bed, an arm over your stomach and his legs flung over both of yours while the blanket is tangled between both of your bodies. he is happily snoozing away, blissfully deep in dream world as you continue trying to push him off.

this wouldn’t be an issue, because despite his bulking and the near constant complaint of ‘yuu, you weigh too much for us to wrestle properly because you always win!’, normally, you can at least shove him off enough to scramble out of the tangle of limbs.

tonight is an issue because he’s clingy.

yuuji is a stage-five clinger in his sleep only a third of the time. most of the time you’re free to come and go as you please, but sometimes, on rare occasion, he can psychically know you’re trying to leave the bed and stop you in his sleep. he’ll grab your waist and shove his face in your neck, he’ll snag a wrist and interlace your fingers, and on the one rare time, he’ll somehow hook his foot around your leg and make you fall back onto the bed. it was insane, the lengths he would go to to make you stay in the comfort of your bed—all while miraculously asleep.

so, you’d tried to sneak out of bed to pee and he’d grabbed your hip, forcing you back into bed with the grip of a man desperate to keep you by his side. you’d find it endearing if you weren’t about to pee your pants.

“i love you,” you whisper, turning your head to press your nose into his cheek and trying to burn a hole in his head, “but i’m gonna murder you if you don’t wake up and let me leave.”

“s’love you.” he mutters. he tilts his head towards you and presses a kiss to your nose.

you narrow your eyes. “what’s megumi’s middle name?”

“francis.”

he’s not awake. the poor boy wouldn’t have lied so easily if he was awake, and you are left to flop against the mattress helplessly.

you hate waking him up because he always looks like someone kicked a puppy in front of him and then told the dog it sucked. it just wasn’t nice and he deserved all the nice things in the world. you also hate waking him up because he is somehow such a deep sleeper. you’d have to be screaming your lungs off at an intruder for him to wake up in perfect lucidity.

you’ll have to find another plan to sneaking away from him and going to the bathroom. you wouldn’t give up, but you’d bide your time. eventually he’d have to move away from you and then, that’d be your chance to slip away.

(you end up falling asleep in his embrace and running to the bathroom frantically when the sun rises.)

[2-dsimp]

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Yandere adventurer x princess reader

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Cw: fem reader! Princess reader! jealousy, possessive/obsessive, yandere townsfolk, Zexius fighting for his life, murderous tendencies, slight gore,

Synopsis: 【on this fateful day you were threatened to be the sacrificial bride of a mythical beast. In order to save your minor kingdom from destruction. However, in a turn of events you got saved by an unruly adventurer dressed in none other than his boxers. it was love at first sight. Although many of your subjects opposed it.】

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Zexius was a blight to his family adventurers guild. He was blessed with unfathomable potential. Alongside His family of 6 with him taking center stage as the shitty eldest brother. However, not many would get to see his potential being put to action. Since he’s a lazy fucker who wants to be a NEET for the rest of his life.

His family was loaded so why the hell did he even need to go outside and save the world from miscreants? That’s what hero’s like Adonis the Sunset Knight are for.

Not to mention he had a sucky personality, bad hygiene, his only good redeeming features would be his face he inherited from his parents. But even he’d got that covered up by his hair.

His life motto was to live unseen so hardships never bother him unprovoked. So he lived as a nameless NPC often making his parents namely his mother, Mooni, wring his neck in frustration. Dangling his ass out the window of their castle from the highest level.

“You’ve been holed up in that room of yours for months young man! Go outside and— what’s that slang you youngins use again? Ah right… Stop gooning!”

“Ma! Seriously! Who even told you about that slang? You’re too old to be acting so cringeeeeeeeeee!??”

Zexius all but screeched be catapulted by the scruff into the far off distance like a shooting star. Yelling curses like a lich obsessed with getting revenge on those beyond its grave.

While dusting off her hands with a huff of satisfaction, her laid back husband, Jakeo, stumbled upon the scene. Ultimately he just shrugged before minding his business. Already used to the extreme mother-son spats, definitely not because he forgot to take out the trash. And was trying to save his ass from being thrown out like a rocket just like his eldest son.

“Jakeooooo, don’t act like, I don’t got eyes in the back of my head. What happened to trash day?”

“…Listen hear me out—“

—-/——————

At this point Zexius was having airtime for so long he was bored. He estimated that he passed up 3 great territories already. Yawning while still zooming within the air until he widened his bloodshot eyes in surprise. His limbs failing seeing that he was headed straight towards a malicious mythical beast. Who was currently attempting at stealing the a kingdoms princess as ransom.

“I dare any of you insignificant humans to step to me, the princess now belongs to the great Orisha! You should kiss the ground in thanks that I didn’t devour you all—“

Suddenly the mythical beast paused, his many eyes trained on the bloody individual who stood off to the side with a tired expression on his face. Carrying a pulsating piece of flesh that drawfed half his body. Their heart, Not to mention that guy looked like a cave dweller and was only wearing his lame boxers and a tattered tank top.

“Shit sorry man, your fatass heart was in the way so I had to uh remove it to get out. But hey I’ll give it back to ya so no hard feelings?”

Zexius offered animatedly, he could already feel a dreadful headache coming from the aftermath of what’ll happen to his quiet carefree life of self indulgence. Seeing he had pierced through the beasts chest like an arrow, leaving a gaping hole.

“Damn youuuuu, how could I the great Orisha be defeated by a mere bum?! This amount of shame you brought on me has no remedy!”

The adventurer pinched his nose in exasperation, the NEET truly hoped that the beast had another heart. He could just dip like nothing happened. The townsfolk be damned since it wasn’t his problem. But sadly it wasn’t the case he actually killed it in one shot. Not just any beast a mythical one at that.

“I’ll curse you and your next of kin!… well that’s what I’d normally do to a worthy and presentable opponent.”

“Oi Oi Oi what the hell’s that supposed to mean? Excuse the fuck outta me for not bein dressed to impress. But I didn’t expect to be out here anyways. “

Ignoring Zexius’s attempts at explaining himself, Orisha merely rolled his many eyes. Seeing his magnificent body fading away like speckled star dust into the wind.

“Haa I actually pity you, with my minds eye it’s enough to tell that you’ll remain a forever alone. So it’d be a waste to curse you farewell fool.”

The adventurer veins popped on his forehead immediately crushing the beasts pulsating heart.

“YOU— CURSE ME! CURSE ME ALREADY, YOU BIG BITCH! I’m not a lost cause, damn you! Just you wait, I’ll make you regret not cursing me when you had the chance!”

Zexius raged, Even going as far as to spit and stomp on the lump of flesh upon the ground. growing more irritable from its croaking fits of laughter.

The beast collapsed, fading away into nothingness drooping you into the hands of your savior. Who caught you by reflex and was already sweating being in proximity to a pretty thing like you. You were exactly his type, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

He wasn’t a gentleman and he’d gotten used to being labeled as unredeemable gnat. By the other neighboring princesses because he treated them like their royal reputation didn’t mean anything.

Being so blunt about how they weren’t his type at all. Not even doing the customary greeting since he’d just smack their hand with a nonchalant low high five. With a sneer on his face as he said that he wasn’t gonna be kissing an uggo’s hand.

Immediately he got on the blacklist no-marriage list throughout most neighboring territories. Which made his mother weep in frustration after having set up those marriage meetings for it to go to waste. While his father merely laughed alongside his younger brothers Wagam, Yeon, and Ueul at how he had no rizz.

Not to mention he was wearing his damned boxers. After years of finally finding the right princess who hit all his criteria at a glance. The last thing he’d wanna do is embarrass himself. He was praying to the gods to have that cliche where the damsel falls for the hero at first sight. just like in those isekai novels he’d read in his spare time.

His train of thought was interrupted by the king who stepped forward. Cringing at the sight of the bum who somehow saved their kingdom. But coughing into his hand to save face he must act as a benevolent ruler and thank the one responsible for their safety.

“Ahem! Thank you, for saving my precious daughter and my people we’re forever in your debt bum—I mean esteemed adventurer. Whatever it’s you want we’ll happily supply you with—“

“Yeah, yeah, no need to make a big deal outta it. I only want one thing, your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

The NEET said bluntly with a blank faced expression, still holding you in a princess carry. If the King rejected then he’d just haul ass and kidnap you on the spot. There was no way he was going to let you outta his sights. Not when you were everything he was wishing for. Plus it make his mother get off his back about not having any grandkids for her to spoil in the foreseeable future.

“Oi Oi what’s with the hostile attitude! Y’all are some ungrateful people, you said you’d give me anything! So why the hell are you readying a battle axe man!”

In hindsight he could understand why the people were already gathering their pitch forks and discarded weapons. The look on their faces was of pure spite, like someone pissed in their cheerios. Despite him saving their lives, it felt as if they’d rather die than see their precious beloved princess. who was clearly loved by the subjects be married to someone who they recognized to be on the no-marriage list.

Narrowing his eyes he widened his stance. He wasn’t afraid to catch a fade with all of the kingdoms people woman, man, child. He didn’t give a fuck, plus he could tell it was a small kingdom on the outskirts. So it’s not like anyone would tell if it happened to somehow disappear right?

Though it would be unfortunate if he killed his father in law in front of you. He could easily ask one of his brothers who’s an aspiring mage to preform a memory wipe on you. After all his family’s blessed with the best of abilities hailing from the direct line legendary adventures before them.

“Lay down your weapons! Father you said you’d give him anything he’d want, it’d be a disgrace to the royal code to not honor that!”

You piped up, with a stern expression on your face which Zexius found to be so adorable. It made him grin like a lovesick idiot seeing his future bride stand up for him. Hell it even made him tear up a bit as nobody had ever done that for him in his years of living. Which only solidified how you were the only one for him.

“Sweetie listen, that thing isn’t even fit to be your husband! It’s best to kill him where he stands and for goodness sakes he’s a bum! He must’ve did some kinda dirty trick, there’s no way he defeated Orisha so easily!”

“Silence! Don’t you dare call my fiancée a bum show some respect, all of you! Or else I’ll leave this kingdom and never come back!”

“Alright alright! Anything but that forgive us! My sweet daughter! Everyone stand down!”

The King urged frantically, everyone followed suit disgruntled as they seethed silently at the smug adventurer. But they’d be devastated if the crown jewel of their small kingdom were forever lost. However, the king was adamant in keeping you and him separated for as long as possible.

So he made up a thorough bullshit contract, a test of faith one may say. Which states that if Zexius could spend five years doing long distance with his princess. Then he’d voluntarily allow you to go stay at his residence.

Zexius didn’t like dealing with unnecessary struggles but for you he’d give it his all. By the time you’d meet again he’d be ready to expel 5 years of yearning for his bride to be.

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Part 2? 👀