#this isn’t quite what you were looking for but I couldn’t imagine her not giving Akito any kisses NDNDKDNDDK

[emmyrosee]

OKAY so i just read your recent dad!suna and i came with this vid right after and i can't help but think about how toddler akito goes mad complaining to suna about reader forgetting to kiss their cute son before going to work 😭

BUT DON'T WRITE IT PLEASE DON'T NO I'LL GNAW YOUR SKIN AND EAT YOUR FLESH

I CANT TELL IF THIS IS A THREAT BUT COME AT ME BC I MUST WRITE IT🤺🤺🤺

———-

There’s a small stomp of a foot behind Rintaro, and for a moment, he pauses his breakfast making, waiting for it to happen again.

And when it does, he chuckles and drops his shoulders, putting down the fruit he was slicing and turning to face the culprit. Akito stands behind him, with his arms crossed over his pajama clad torso, a small grimace painting his small face, and gosh, he looks so much like you when he’s mad, Rintaro can’t help but smirk.

“Something bothering you, sport?” He asks his tiny son, who huffs softly.

“No kiss, dadda,” he grumbles. “Mumma no kiss me. Mean mumma.”

Rintaro pauses, then thinks back to this morning. You’d left earlier than usual, sure, leaving Rintaro to the domestics for the morning, but there’s no doubt in his mind that you had in fact kissed the small boy goodbye, he was just asleep.

“Aw, bud,” he finally says, crouching down to meet his son’s height. He smiles softly, “mumma had to leave early today, she didn’t want to wake you up. I promise you, she gave you a kiss before she left, okay?”

“Liar,” Akito pouts.

Rintaro reels back at his son’s words, only to compose himself and sigh, “I wouldn’t lie to you about that. Besides,” Rintaro smirks, “there’s lipstick on your forehead.”

Akito tilts his head in confusion, so Rintaro turns off the stove and scoops his son into his arms, carrying him to the bathroom to show him that his mother had in fact left evidence of her affection on him.

“See, dude,” he says, jostling his son, gesturing toward the pretty pink stain on his forehead with his pinky. “Mumma always gives you kisses. She always will. I promise.”

“Why you no have kissy mark?” Akito asks, green eyes looking intently over his fathers face. “Mumma no kiss you?”

Rintaro chuckles, “mumma gave me a kiss on the lips today. Like you see us do every morning before I leave, yeah?”

This, has the cogs in Akito’s head turning. He plays with his fingers in thought before grimacing back up at his father, “want kiss on da lips.”

“I can kiss you, if you want a kiss-“

“Not from you,” he says, and Rintaro tries to not feel offended. “From mumma.”

Rintaro drops his head in defeat, not knowing quite how to quell his son’s annoyance, even if the situation is amusing to him.

Guess you’ll just have to give them both a ton of kisses before work now.

He smirks at the idea: oh well.

[alexiapp]

Next Step With You

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: You and Alexia finally have the talk about Kids…

Note: I’ve been gone for so fucking long because of how insanely busy i’ve been but, i’m totally hoping on posting constantly and not keeping empty promises 😭..i’ve had an insane amount of writers block also so keep that in mind!! This isn’t my best work but it’ll have to do !

You never thought that you would be in love. You thought you were unlovable or maybe incapable of finding your ‘true one’. You presumed that maybe it was your strong personality or your high standards that caused these problems. You always had trouble with relationships, and had a couple horror stories when it came to your past love life. You always that you were the problem, until you met Alexia. She made you feel something that you never thought you would be able to experience. You felt giddy inside, and content. There wasn’t a dull moment between her and I.

Alexia was charming, and very charismatic and she also has a strong personality which drew you into her. Recently you guys have been entering a new chapter of your relationship. This year would be marking the 4th year you have been together. You couldn’t see your life without Alexia, it just wouldn’t feel right. You wanted to bring new milestones to you guys relationship. Everything you envision had Alexia in it.

You wanted to add an addition to you guys relationship badly..You wanted to build a family between the two of you. You only started feeling this way until you saw how attentive Alexia was towards kids, it always made you wonder how she’d be if you guys had kids. You knew deep down in your heart that Alexia would be an amazing mother, but you didn’t know if Alexia wanted to take that next step with you or if she was even ready. It’s something you’ve been hesitant to bring up, these loud thoughts always stayed in the back of your mind. You don’t wanna scare her away..imagine how crazy you’d looked if she didn’t feel the same way..i mean what if she thought you were a total nut case. This steered you away from Alexia, making you kind of cold and distance.

This situation made you second guess a lot of things. You took an immature approach, usually the average person would talk it out with there significant other in an healthy manner, but you being you, were quite stubborn and decided to isolate yourself. You started declining her offers to go out when she put the idea out there. You guys once long text messages turned into short and brief on your end no matter how hard the poor woman tried to carry the conversation.

You assumed Alexia didn’t notice how cold you’ve been ..Oh boy were you wrong. She was was in deep stress her mind was constantly racing wondering what she could’ve possibly done wrong. Trying to remember moments where she could’ve possibly said the wrong thing that might’ve hurt or offended you in any way. She was determined to get to the bottom of this and handle it quickly, she genuinely couldn’t take not having you around any longer.

After settling down and drowning in her thoughts she decided the only way to get your attention is by catching you at in unexpected moment. She decided she’d venture to your apartment without giving you any head’s up. She didn’t want you to find another excuse to brush her off and ignore her, she wanted to talk to you and get you back. She was determined and ready to do whatever it takes.

The determined blonde quickly grabbed her phone and car keys headed straight for your flat ready to corner you.

You were brought out of a day dream when you heard a knock on your apartment door. You got up and walked over to your door with confusion written all over your face. You weren’t expecting a visitor or any packages. Shock washed over you when you were met with a very agitated and worried blonde. The last person you wanted to see.

Your once confused face was replaced with a very shocked expression.

“Um..hi?” you muttered out in surprise at what you were faced with.

“Why have you been ignoring me” Said the hazel eyed woman as she pushed through into your apartment door.

“i..i haven’t been, i’ve just been very busy i-“ you said as you staggered your words.

“Don’t like to me, you know how much i hate when people lie” the blonde woman said cutting you off in your lousy excuse as to why you haven’t been very present in you guys relationship.

“You’ve been brushing me off, you’ve been texting me less and less. I want to know what i did wrong so i could fix it”. She said with fury in her voice.

“There’s nothing you can do, to stop me from me feeling how i feel right now Alexia” You said nervously.

“Then what is it! I need to know what it is so we can fix it. I want us to fix this” she said waving her hand between you and her.

“I feel like if i tell you what it is, our relationship would be over” you said with a meek expression.

“amor whatever it is we can try and get past it, i just have to know” she said gently as she walked towards you grabbing your hands as a form of comfort. She could tell you were nervous about what you wanted to say next.

“There’s things that i want to do in our relationship that you might not be ready for Alexia, and i don’t want that to jeopardize what we have.” You said conflicted on weather you should open up to her or not

“Hey, no matter what is bothering you, we can fix it and hopefully move past it..i promise” she said as she rubbed her thumb across my hand.

“I want us to have kids..i want to have kids with you, and i didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to scare you off i didn’t want you to think i’m so crazy person. I see myself starting a family with you..” You said with fear in your voice. You were almost quivering with fear on how she would react. You were shut down when you heard the woman in front of you hysterically laugh.

Oh no…she thought you were a joke, she must think you’re a loser..you told yourself, emotions bathing in a pool insecurity. You broke your hand away from her turning away in rejection. “ I knew this would happen, i just knew you wouldn’t take me seriously” you said with hurt and regret in your voice.

You turned your body away from her not wanting her to see how hurt you truly were.

“I’m sorry, come here” she said trying to make you turn towards her.

“i’m not laughing at you about what you said, i’m laughing because why wouldn’t you think i want that also?” she said chuckling lightly. She placed her fairly large hands on her face cupping your cheeks softly and said “why would i want to do that. There isn’t anyone i wouldn’t rather start a family with” she said shaking her head at your ridiculousness.

“I just thought that maybe you’d think that we’re moving to fast, i was just scared” you said looking into her hazel eyes.

“vale, firstly their isn’t anyway i could see life without you..let alone my future with you not being in it, if you told me how you felt ahead of time this wouldn’t be our outcome” she said has she brushed her thumb against your cheekbone

“Amor, you have to communicate with me when you’re feeling this vale ?” she said shaking her head to try to get me to understand. Which i nodded in response.

I leaned in and pecked the blonde’s lips, you were suddenly thrown over her shoulder, making you giggle in surprise “Let’s practice making that baby sí!” as she carried you to your apartment bedroom.

I’ll grammar check later !!

[midnightstar-kpopsmut]

Chapter I, Coming to Seoul

He had come to South Korea on a business trip, this was one of his days off to explore the city, he was trying not to rush it. As a first stop on his walk he had decided to go look at the streets of Gangnam, a district that had been popularized more than ten years ago by the song Gangnam Style, an instant global hit that mixed hints of sex with promises of something big yet to come. Walking in the Apgujeong neighborhood, one of the busiest and party oriented sections of Gangnam, he could often feel girls eyes stopping on him. He was, luckily enough, a handsome boy. A clear and cut American look, which is not surprising since he came from California, short brown hair, brown eyes, a wide white t-shirt that made him look fresh. Now at the end of his twenties, you can imagine something like « young but experienced »... He was just hot. But not too hot, and surely not arrogant. Anyway now he was walking so let’s keep going.

Despite the attentions received his mind was elsewhere. It could have been him being used to be looked at, but it was probably just the heat. Seoul had entered spring a few weeks ago, announced by all those pretty flowers blossoming, and it was now starting to gradually heat up, pointing to a scorching summer. He had imagined to walk until sunset, but this was unbearable. Too hot. He needed something to drink and a place to sit. He started looking at the bar signs. This was a rich neighborhood, so they were all quite pretty, and it already soothed his mind. One in particular grabbed his attention, a blue neon sign with pink accents displaying a bold english name: - Midnight Star. The center of the front door was decorated by a round logo, a full pale blue moon with a pair of lips lasciviously placed in the middle of it. Our hero couldn’t stop himself from thinking that a moon isn’t a star, that they should have used some kind of stylized five points star with a tail, instead. Despite these criticism, which were part of his job after all, he found the name intriguing so decided to enter. If the occasion arose he could have discussed the logo with the manager of the place, but without being too arrogant, since he was indeed not arrogant. Inside the Midnight Star the atmosphere was pleasant. Not many costumers at this hour, but the fresh breeze coming from the air conditioners was all that mattered. The spacious main room was lit by crystal chandlers and massive leather chair were placed all around tables. He aimed for one at the back and sit down. After his drink arrived, now more in control of his body temperature, he started looking at the costumers. One couple had been sitting at the bar since before his arrival. He couldn’t stop looking. He was not in a relationship himself, he had been before but they often ended over lack of interest, no matter from which side. But still he found them sweet, especially the girl, who was letting her head hang in front of the guy as if saying “do with me what you please”.

Emerging from the toilets, or maybe from one of the back rooms, a guy with a round face and a pleasant smile noticed the American sitting at the table. This new guy was Korean, at least visually speaking, and was on his forties. The more he looked upon the American drinking his drink and looking at the couple, the more he smiled. The Korean regained his composure and approached the table. - Hello, said the Korean, can I sit here with you? I mean, don’t you mind? - Sure, answered the American.” Making a gesture to give him space to his side. The Korean was so happy, he immediately sit and said: - They are cute. I’ve never seen them around here. I hope they will come back more. - Do you come here often, asked the American, this must be your table. - No, no, this is a nice bar but I am all over the place, I just didn’t want to sit alone. What’s your name?” The American presented himself, stating his name and job, while the Korean nodded and listened. He then asked the same question to the Korean. - I am... Jimmy, the Korean answered, nice to meet you” Jimmy didn’t include his job. Which the American found odd, but he had probably just forgot. Instead he asked: - Jimmy? Is Jimmy... Korean?” - Korean is what you want it to be, answered Jimmy, I like the sound of this name, my friends always call me Jimmy.” - I hope I can be your friend, then, added the young American.” Upon hearing this Jimmy smiled even more and ordered his own drink with one hand, while the other patted his new friend on his back.

Waiting for the drink Jimmy asked: - You are handsome...” but was interrupted by the handsome American which said – Thank you, I am normal.” This time Jimmy really asked – No, really, you are handsome. You are tall, and your jaw, is... so sharp. So what is stopping you, from being like them? I mean like him? - Well, first of all, I am not Korean. - I mean, having a beautiful girl like her” said Jimmy, who wasn’t easy to trick. He added: - You said to me you are single, don’t you... like girls?” Jimmy faked distress and put some space between themselves. The American answered: - Of course I like girls!” Jimmy patted his back again and said in Korean: - Good, good! I am sorry, do you know a bit of Korean? - Not really. - It means “good”, said Jimmy. The American: - But I could need it for my job, depending if we decide to move forward in Seoul.” He took a sip of his drink – Maybe we can talk more, in Korean?” Jimmy looked dubious: - I like speaking in english, what I was saying is, you could find a girl easily here, and she could teach you Korean, cook, and do many nice things for you. I would love to meet her.

The American really considered the question, even though he answered briefly at first: - I am not looking for a girlfriend, here in Korea.

- Why not? Asked Jimmy back.

The fruit of the American thoughts then shined: - I feel like my life has been a constant state of looking for something, something that would fill my solitude maybe, a strong dream, or a great partner. And trust me I tried, I am not shy, I approached many women that I liked...”

- Girls? Interrupted him the Korean. - Women, girls, you understand? - Oh yes, yes, keep going.

- Point is all of that never gave me what I was looking for, now I don’t want to look for anything. I want to take things as they come, I feel like all the relationship I had I was forcing myself, because I felt like that was the good thing to do, but there is a difference among good effort and bad expectations.

Jimmy, the Korean guy, looked a bit sleepy, but still managed to say: - That is... Important. I understand you better now. But do you like... Korean girls? Be honest.

- Yes, answered the American, clearly yes. I was the one that volunteer to come for this trip. This is my first time in Seoul, and I really like what I am seeing so far. I just wish to find a bit more than what my life has been until now. Some new experience, I guess.

Jimmy had a brilliance on his eyes, he asked: - Do you like K-pop?

- I’ve listened to some songs, it’s not bad.” Jimmy was pushing him to say more with his eyes: - Yes, yes, I like it.

- What about the girls of K-pop? Do you like them?

- Sure, I like them.

Jimmy had been playing with his phone for a while. - Can I, I mean do you, want to see... something?

- Of course, answered the American, where?

- Just here, on my phone.

Jimmy took the time to browse through his phone, shielding it from the young American eyes. He then got something ready and asked: -Ready?

- Ready.

Jimmy had placed the phone in front of them, near the table, with its back visible. He flipped it to display a picture. A girl with enormous black hair, could have been a wig, eyes closed, was photographed from top down inside of what could have been an apartment. The American immediately recognized her. She was Karina from Aespa, a top of the top star from the contemporary K-pop world. He had partially lied, he actually knew K-pop more than he liked to admit. Not that it mattered that much, since Karina’s face was impossible to forget. Exceptionally gorgeous, small, and delicate. But nothing was delicate about her expression in this particular photo. The face of Karina, which fans had photographed countless times, was covered in thick splashes of sparkling cum.

Jimmy left the picture up only for a couple of seconds, but it was enough. After he pulled his phone away nobody spoke for a few seconds.

- Is she...? Started the American. -Yes, Karina. Answered Jimmy. - Was it you? - No. - Then, how did you...

Jimmy smiled: - I can tell you more, but... Maybe you should pay me something? I have to trust you with this. Not that anybody would believe you anyway.

The American wasn’t even sure that the photo was real, but it surely looked like it. - How much?

- Mmmhh, fifty?

That’s cheap, he thought: - All right, you got it.” He grabbed his wallet: - What is this? I thought idols were not even allowed to date.

- You should order another round of drinks first, this could become a bit... hot.

The drinks arrived, the American payed, and then Jimmy started to talk.

[joyful-enchantress]

Spring Heat (18+) | Loki x Fem!Reader

banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn

A/N: You help your husband through his yearly heat, which is part of the Jotun mating cycle. He's afraid he might hurt you, but you are determined to stay... I wrote this for @springdandelixn and her Double-Trouble Sleepover! Congratulations, Beanie, my love! I hope you enjoy this little fic that I put together for you 🖤

Genre/Warnings: Jotun mating cycle AU, smut (18+), rough sex, choking, dubcon? (everything is consensual but Loki is not entirely in control of himself), language, light angst, fluff too, filth with feeling, established relationship

Word Count: 3182

The sights and sounds of springtime were all around you as you strolled through the palace grounds —

The busy twittering of birds as they searched for food and fought over tree branches on which to build their nests.

The chattering of squirrels and rabbits and other small animals as they came out of hiding to begin a new season of life.

The rich shade of green returning to the grass in the meadow, speckled with pops of color where wildflowers were beginning to bloom.

Speaking of blooming flowers -- the palace gardens were thriving, and in the next couple of weeks were sure to become a spectacle of color, ranging from delicate pastel hues to bright, vibrant tones. Just in time for the Spring Festival that would be held at the end of the month.

Yes, spring was upon you. Your favorite season. It meant warmer temperatures and sunshine and new life.

But despite all the bright cheerfulness that spring brought with it, for your husband, Loki, it also brought with it a certain darkness.

His heat.

Loki was of Jotun blood; a Frost Giant. And with that heritage came certain Jotun traits, some more easily embraced than others. One such trait that your husband found more loathsome than the rest was the Jotun mating cycle.

Each year since his body matured, around the time of the Spring Equinox, Loki would find himself at the mercy of his primal instincts. Unable to control his animalistic urges to mate, he’d lock himself in his chambers until it would pass.

That is, until you had something to say about it.

When you learned of the agony he endured — both physically and emotionally — locked in his chambers for anywhere from one week to one month until his heat cycle passed, you couldn’t bear it. You had to do something to help, if you could.

You remembered the conversation you’d had with him well. It was shortly after your wedding…

————

“Loki, isn’t there anything that would make it easier to endure? Or at least make it come to an end more quickly? I can’t imagine a week of that, let alone a month.”

“Unfortunately, no, darling. There isn’t really anything that can be safely done to help it. The healers can give me an elixir that will suppress it, but I can’t take it every year, or it would lose its effectiveness. And besides, a heat the year after a suppressed heat is always more intense and agonizing.”

Your eyebrow cocked, looking at him with curiosity. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience…?”

He took a deep breath before answering, “Yes, I’ve taken suppressants occasionally in the past. The temptation of a year of reprieve was too great for me to resist at times. But I always found that the following year’s heat was far worse than what is typical. More desperation, more madness, more… pain.”

Your heart broke for him in that moment.

“Why does it last so long, Loki?”

He gave a mirthless chuckle. “It lasts as long as it takes for one of two things to happen. Either it quite literally burns its way out of my system, like a fever that takes weeks to break. Or…”

His voice trailed off, and he looked off into the distance, as if he was searching for his thought amongst the forests and rolling hills.

“Or…?” You gently encouraged him to continue.

Loki let out an exasperated sigh and quietly admitted, “Or… I mate. Breed. Fuck.”

Something about the way he enunciated the hard ‘k’, his Adam’s apple bobbing sinfully as the sound clicked in his throat, had your core throbbing with need and a wave of hot arousal unfolding over your body.

You blinked a few times as you contemplated what he said. “Well that seems easy enough,” you replied cooly, as if you were discussing the weather.

“What…?” He looked at you, perplexed.

“If having a good fuck will bring your agony to an end, then that seems like an easy solution to me. I can help you with that —”

“NO!” His rich baritone voice boomed as it cut you off, dripping with authority, anger, and — was that fear? “You don’t understand, my love. I am not myself when this happens. I lose myself, I lose control. I no longer am capable of keeping up the Asgardian façade; my Jotun form takes over and I am overcome with the primal desire to mate. I lose all regard for decency, I become… a monster. I am a monster.”

“Loki…” you reached a hand up to caress the side of his stupidly beautiful face, running your thumb soothingly along his sharp cheekbone and slotting your palm against his chiseled jaw, which was tightly clenched. A sign of his distress. “I love you, Loki. Let me help you through this.”

“I love you too, darling. More than my life itself. Which is exactly why I can’t let you do this.” He wrapped his large hand around the back of yours and turned his head to the side to tenderly kiss your palm. “It isn’t safe. I could hurt you. Badly.”

“I trust you, Loki. I trust you with my life, no matter what physical form you assume.” The next words you uttered came to you as easily as breathing, “I want to do this. Please. Use me. Use my body to sate your desires and end your own suffering.”

His emerald eyes widened at your words, most likely shocked at how brazen and self-assured they were. But swirling behind the shock was something else. Reverence. Trepidation. And lust.

He slowly swallowed, gathering himself together and collecting his thoughts after you scrambled them with your salacious plea.

“Alright then, darling.” He cautiously relented, his eyes boring into yours, searching for any sign that you were having second thoughts or hints of doubt. “Come springtime, when my next heat cycle is upon me, I’ll let you help me. I’ll let you be the balm that soothes my burning, searing ache.”

————

And now, spring was upon you. And any day now, it would be time to make good on your promise to him. For better or worse. You suddenly had a renewed appreciation for the words you spoke in your wedding vows to him, just 8 months ago.

Loki has been warning you for the past few days that his heat is imminent, and could take over at any time. He could feel it; all the warning signs were there. The restlessness. The irritability. The discomfort. Crawling under his skin like an itch he can't scratch. Until it makes him snap.

Each and every time, he asked if you were still sure. He reminded you that you could change your mind, that he didn't expect you to do this. That he'd never expect you to do this. It was entirely your choice.

And each and every time, you stood firm in your decision. You wanted to help him. You would do this.

The sun was beginning to set on your evening stroll, so you altered your route so that it would lead you back towards the private chambers that you shared with Loki. As you approached the hallway which led to your shared door, you could feel a distinct, unseasonal chill in the air.

Was this it? Was tonight the night?

Once you reached the ornate wooden door, you noticed a thin blanket of frost coating the edges of it, as if, behind the door, was the force of winter itself, its icy chill seeping through the gaps between the door and the frame.

You reflected for a moment on the irony that all this frost and chill was the result of something called a heat, and you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself.

But then you remembered that not just fire, but ice, too, can burn.

A shiver rolled down your spine, and the cold seeping through the doorframe wasn't entirely to blame.

You took a moment to gather your courage, reminding yourself that this was Loki. Your husband. Your one true love.

You could do this.

You softly knocked, each tap of your knuckles against the cold wood sending a jolt of bravery through you.

"Loki... can I come in?"

"Pet..." The voice that answered you was familiar, but more... ragged. It was deeper, if that was even possible, and assumed a huskiness that made your usually gentle husband sound nothing short of feral.

It sent a surge of hot, wet arousal through you, which pooled between your thighs.

"I'm here, Loki..." you whispered like a prayer. "Let me help you."

"This is your last chance, pet," he warned. "You can still change your mind. But the moment you open the door, I'm afraid there will be no going back."

Good thing you had no plans of going back.

You opened the door and stepped into your chambers; after ensuring the door was closed and locked, you took a deep breath. This was it.

As you turned around, you came face to face with your husband.

Except he wasn't quite the Loki you knew. For one thing, he was taller. Much taller. At least 8 feet tall. You briefly wondered how you'd be able to take him in this form. His usually porcelain skin was replaced with a brilliant cerulean, and across every bit of blue that your hungry eyes could find, were ridges that swept across his skin in bold strokes and delicate lines, forming intricate patterns that you longed to trace with your fingers. As your eyes settled on his face, you found some familiarity there. You recognized the bone structure and the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips; the luscious raven locks that framed his angular face were unchanged. But in place of the emerald orbs that you knew and loved were two glistening rubies, staring at you with an intensity that could only be described as ferocious.

He was beautiful. Flawless. You saw no monster before you. Only your husband. Showing you a side of himself that he has kept hidden from you. Until now.

You broke the silence first, and simply muttered, "I love you, and I am here. Use me."

And that was all the permission he needed.

He closed the distance between you impossibly fast, like a predator stalking its prey, and wrapped an icy hand around your throat, squeezing firmly, the coldness stinging like pins and needles against your skin.

His lips met yours with an urgency that you hadn't experienced before; any hint of gentleness was gone and in its place a brutal clash of tongues and teeth as he claimed your mouth, a throaty growl slipping past his lips as he basked in the taste of you on his tongue.

Fear crept up your spine for the first time since you entered, and you brought your small hands up to claw at his wrist, a desperate attempt to let him know that you needed a break; you needed to breathe.

Something within him seemed to get the message, because he peeled his mouth away from yours and released your throat, repurposing his hand to wrap around your midsection and toss you unceremoniously onto the large bed in the center of the room.

You had to admit that part of you enjoyed the way he was manhandling you.

He wasted no time freeing himself from his garments and strode towards the bed, where he situated himself over you, caging in your small frame like a hungry animal about to enjoy the spoils of its hunt.

You gulped at the sight of his enormous cock, as it bobbed angrily against his stomach, covered in the same ridges that decorated the rest of his body, the tip weeping with the evidence of his primal desire. For you.

"These pretty silks have got to go," he rasped against your ear, his breath somehow both hot and cold.

He roughly grabbed the fine fabric and you winced as you heard him rip it to shreds as easily as if your dress was made of flower petals from the garden.

Within seconds, you were bare before him, and his ravenous gaze lazily roamed over your body, savoring every dip and every curve like the sight of you alone could sate him.

Even though that couldn't be further from the truth.

When he decided that his eyes had had their fill, he brought two fingers up to prod against your lips, his gaze meeting yours, daring you to defy him.

But you didn't dare.

You submissively parted your lips and wrapped your mouth around his fingers, astonished at how much your mouth had to stretch just to accommodate them. A wicked smile tugged at his lips as your tongue danced over his digits, preparing them for exploration of another warm, wet hole.

A gasp escaped your lips as his fingers were abruptly pulled from your mouth and pushed inside your weeping cunt. They pumped and stretched you almost as much as his normal cock would, and you shuddered at the thought of what was to come.

The nerves melted away though, as his thumb found your clit and worked the sensitive nub in sweeping circles, pleasure taking over your senses and lulling you into a state of calm.

"Loki..." you whispered softly between your whimpers and pants.

He growled in response, withdrawing his fingers from your soaked pussy and wrapping his hand around your thigh, forcing your legs open as wide as they would go.

Before you had a chance to adjust to the new position, his huge cock was at your slick entrance and he thrust forward, forcing as much of himself inside you as he could, his girth stretching your walls and the tip pushing against your cervix. The sudden intrusion took your breath away, and the stinging pain you felt caused unshed tears to well in your eyes. The coldness of his skin only heightened the sensations, forcing your mouth open in a silent scream as he claimed you.

You loved him. You wanted this. You silently reminded yourself as a large blue hand found your throat once again and wrapped around tightly.

A feral moan left his lips as he began to rut into you roughly. Pushing himself in as far as your body would allow. Over and over. Chasing his own pleasure without regard for your own.

"So warm... So tight... You take me so well, pet." He grunted between thrusts. "You're mine."

You couldn't help the fresh pool of arousal that gushed between your legs in response to his words. Even as he wrecked your body and used it like a toy, you loved nothing more than being his.

His rhythm became sloppy and you knew he was close.

With a wild growl, he pulled out of you and violently flipped you over onto your stomach. You were thankful you were on the mattress and not on the floor in that moment.

His large hands dug into your hips, pulling them upwards and angling you so that he could sink himself once again into your tight cunt. You turned your head to the side, gasping for air between shameless moans as he pounded into you from behind like an animal.

It didn't take long for him to reach his peak; he let out a primal roar as he came, pumping you full of his seed. You felt it leaking out of you, dripping down your inner thighs as he continued to shallowly thrust into you while he rode out his high.

And that was the last thing you remembered before darkness blurred the edges of your vision and you succumbed to exhaustion, your body limp and spent.

--

Later, when you came to, you wiggled your fingers and toes first and slowly worked your way to moving each limb, assessing the soreness. There was an undeniable ache, but nothing you couldn't manage. You sat up in the bed and looked around the room, searching for Loki. Your eyes settled upon his familiar Asgardian form, huddled on the chair in the corner, as if he was putting as much distance as possible between the two of you without leaving you alone. His eyes were red, but not because of his Jotun blood. Because he had been crying.

"Loki, what's wrong?!" you frantically asked.

When he realized you were awake, he rushed to your side. "What's wrong? Love, look at what I've done to you!" He gestured to your body, to the bruises on your inner thighs, your hips, your wrists, your neck. He pointed to the mess between your thighs, to the bit of blood that was on the sheets between your legs. "I'm a monster. A vile, disgusting creature. I should have never let you do this!"

He looked away from you, ashamed.

You reached for his hand, in an effort to reassure him. "Loki, I wanted this. I wanted to help you. I insisted." Your thumb stroked the back of his hand in soothing circles, willing him to believe that you were okay. "And look! It worked. Your heat lasted only a few hours instead of weeks!"

"But at what cost?" He muttered, without meeting your gaze.

"I am your wife. We are a team, in everything. I vowed to be there for you and to love you no matter what, for better or for worse. A few bruises and some soreness are a small price to pay once a year if it means my husband isn't in agony for weeks at a time."

He sheepishly met your gaze then, peering up at you from under his eyelashes.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered softly.

"Yes you do. Because you are the most amazing person I know," you smiled easily as you said it. "Now, I did say we are a team, so if you're done sulking, I do believe it is your turn to do your part. Don't you have some magic healing powers that could soothe some of my aches, or am I misremembering?"

Now it was his turn to smile at you. He got to work straight away, a blanket of green seidr engulfing your body and buzzing through you, soothing away the worst of your residual pain. Then he spent the day spoiling you, running you a hot bath with your favorite rose scented bath oil, pampering you with a massage, and waiting on you hand and foot.

"Darling?"

"Yes, Loki?"

A wolfish grin crept across his lips. "When you've had a day or two to recover, I intend to make last night up to you, tenfold. To drown you in so much pleasure that the only word you'll remember is my name as it falls from your lips like a mantra."

You met his grin with your own cheeky smile. "And I intend to hold you to that, Laufeyson."

His lips met yours, then, in a passionate kiss; one that conveyed all the love and adoration he held for you. Your lover. Your husband. Your everything.

Spring was definitely your favorite season.

--

--

Tagging some lovely people who might be interested. No worries though if not, of course! @lokisgoodgirl @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @cheekyscamp @give-me-a-moose @sarahscribbles @gigglingtigger @ladyofthestayingpower @mischief2sarawr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @wheredafandomat @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @loopsreacts @maple-seed @fictive-sl0th @coldnique @thomase1 @peachyjinx @superficialdomina @peaches1958 @evelyn-kingsley @simplyholl @tallseaweed @cake-writes @tripleyeeet @lokiandbuckysdoll @vbecker10 @lovelysizzlingbluebird

[pedge-page]

aww imagine when ellie is a little older and she has one of those doctor kit toys, and joel gets a cut (or maybe a bruise or something like that) and ellies like "it's okay daddy i'll help you 🥺" and she runs with her little kit and puts on the stethoscope and does a little "check up" and takes his blood pressure and checks his temperature, and then she asks where his boo boo is 😭 and then she gives it a little kiss (bc thats what joel and reader do) and she's like "all better daddy :)" 😭😭😭 please that would send me into a coma that is too cute

notes: oh my god this was so adorable to think about, thank you so much for the baby fever.... I ran a little further with this one based off this ask!

Joel Dealing with Wife: Doctor Ellie

- - - -

Joel’s caught on to something pretty big here. His ever growing littler girl Ellie is quite the caretaker….of him especially. All he tolerated under you and Sarah finally met its match when Ellie quietly entered the world.

He started to realize it after she would burst into tears each time he’d trip on Sarah’s toys, or grunted at your shoulder slaps. But she only ever showed worry when it was him getting hurt.

And he couldn’t get enough of it. Okay sure, its wrong to make your kid worry about things they don’t understand isn’t quite worth stressing over, but he can’t help but fall into a giddy awe spell of greed seeing just how bent out she gets when she thinks he’s hurt. It started with big hugs for long minutes. Then she decided she needed to practice real medicine. The amount of bandaids this family has gone through despite no real injury is astounding to his wallet. 

But it’s commendable. She so carefully puts her warm hands over his forehead whenever he stubs his toe, or checks his pulse when he’s eaten something too hot. Doctor Ellie is always in the house, and ready to assist.

And maybe Daddy… goes a little too out of his way to bring her out.

Joel had just rammed a large plank of wood into his abdomen, not carefully checking its length before swinging it around as if he were still in his twenties. “Ugh--damnit!” He groans, clutching his side. The throb lasted for just a moment before dulling, and he was about to carry on his business when—

“DADDY!!!!” Ellie wails, followed by the patterpatterpatter of her little feet running as fast as they can take him towards his aid.

She’s etched with concern over her chunky face, grasping on her tip toes for his hands. “Daddy okay?” She asks with her high pitched, sweetie voice that gets his soft spot racing.

“Yea—No. No baby…I think—“ he clutches his side, as if remembering the near fatal accident he just suffered. “Uuughh---oh Ellie…I’m hurt. I’m hurt real bad.” He bends forward, one hand over his abdomen while the other covers his face. (He peeks through one squinted eye to see her reaction).

She gasps. “It’s okay daddy! I help make it better!”

She grasps his finger with her entire hand and leads him towards the living room. “Moo!” She commands to Spoon. “Amboolance! WEE WOO WEE!!” She waves her hands around to clear the way of the invisible traffic as Joel followed, half squatted and stiffly wobbling to match her short stature.

She quickly tosses a blanket on the carpet, pointing for Joel to lie down. He obliges, groaning more so from the cracks in his back and knee instead of the fake pain he’s been dishing out.

He watches as she digs frantically through the bin of various toys before retrieving her mobile hospital toy kit. With the stethoscope thrown on her waist (it’s for kids 8 and up and she isn’t quite the size yet), she puts the rounded part over Joel’s stomach. Then she presses her head on his injury as well, causing him to let out an oof and chuckle as she listens futally for his heartbeat. 

“I nee take look.”

She rolls up his shirt a few inches to uncover the invisible wound. 

“How bad is it, doc?” Joel pleas in dramatic desperation.

She tilts her head to the side, closing one eye with her palm before shaking her head.

“Nee sur—Sur gee.”

Joel puts together that’s surgery, and he’s starting to wonder where she’s learning all this hospital stuff….

She begins rummaging around for her other toys before announcing “Knife!”

Joel’s head sits right up, eyes wide in Father-panic mode that she may have gotten her hands on an actual—

She instead pulls her yellow and green kids-cooking toy plastic knife that is meant to part velcroed plastic vegetables, and realistically couldn’t even slice through two strands of hair. He lets out a sigh, leaning back and letting her continue with her critical patient.

“Snack time!”

Of course you just had to interrupt their special Daddy-daughter only playtime with fucking snack ti—oh is that apple slices and peanut butter?

Ellie drops everything, sits on her butt almost like a dog and awaits patiently for her snack. Conveniently Spoon has also come to sit automatically next to her, if the dog-analogy wasn’t evident enough.

“Interrupting surgery, babe,” Joel hums. 

“Surgery can wait after snack.”

Ellie wiggles her feet as you hold out a slice towards her mouth for her to bite and keep her hands clean. The room is silent minus the content, unhurried crunching of apple sizes.

“Okay baby, continue your surgery. What part are we at?” You ask, sucking a slice into your mouth as you also dip one into Joel’s open trap, giggling as he swallows it like an arcade ticket machine crunching away at his spoils. 

“Make cut,” she says plainly, searching around for that knife again.

You raise your brow suspiciously  but let any irrational thought go as she holds up her very non lethal kiddie knife.

Doctor Ellie starts serrating his belly fat back and forth with the dull piece of thick plastic.

It probably looks like real pain to her, were it not for him holding his breath as his chest and stomach puffing up and down, trying to hold his giggles and squirms together.

You watch Joel with raised brow, knowing he’s got tears in his eyes trying to play poker face so hard, knowing you’re there watching him get tickled by this thing and knowing he’s gonna deny it profusely. 

“Shouldn’t you put me under anesthesia—“

She slaps a piece of paper — the phony ticket from her train conductor set (Jesus, how many different toy sets did you guys get her?) — a little too carelessly, but enough to get the idea across that daddy needs to stop talking as she does careful work.

“Sew!” She announces, as if she has a nurse assistant handing her each tool. Although, technically, she does, but you seem more interested in wiping the plate of peanut butter and sucking it off your digits.

Joel’s eyes are closed, enjoying the serenity of lying on the floor. You don’t realize how good it is to be on the ground until you have kids, and now you’re constantly on the floor doing everything with them.

“Mommy…where sew?”

You shrug. They’ve got so many toys, you’re honestly not sure what creative thing she’s gonna come up with the “sew” Joel’s tummy. Given her use of the kids knife, you’re curious what kind of toy—

She pulls out a real sewing needle, point and sharp and definitely not kid approved along with fabric thread. It glints in her little hand for a brief moment as she dips to make contact on Joel’s skin—

“OOKAY Let’s not use that,” you yelp, grasping her arm carefully from going any further. Joel’s still got that stupid paper over his eyes, absolutely oblivious and too trusting of Ellie. 

Something else about kids: you can baby proof the fuck out of everything you didn’t even think needed baby proofing, and yet they will still —what does Jeff Goldblum say in the dinosaur movie?…—f’ind a way’. 

You remove the needle and thread from her grasp, position it inside a cotton swab and high out of her reach. You fashion a string of yarn wrapped around a q-tip instead, and hand it to her like it’s nothing. She takes it and goes back to “sewing” Joel’s tummy up, dragging the cottony tip over his naval.

His belly dips as he lets out a pained breath, trying so hard to act like he’s not tickled. 

“Am I gonna make it doc?” Joel asks curiously.

“Bluey!”

He doesn’t quite understand that answer, until she’s pulling out the packs of varied assortment of bandaids. It takes a few minutes to help her pull each sticky back off, but soon Joel’s got 4 bandaids of Paw Patrol on his stomach, one Bingo on top of his jeans, some chainsaw massacre’s on his arm, and a pretty hello kitty across his forehead. 

“All done!” She boasts happily.

“Nah uh! You need to make sure it stays better!”

“Oh—“ she bends down and kisses his belly, just like you and Joel always do whenever she gets a minor booboo. Kisses make everything better.

Minus the bacteria in your saliva but ya know it’s the placebo in the thought that really counts for the healing factor. 

“Give daddy one on the cheek for good measure,” he commands, pointing sternly into his face. She happily obliges with a fat “mmmmmwah!”

“Yay. Looks like he’ll live,” you muse a little too unhappily. Joel snickers, sitting upright. God, he somehow looks ridiculous and hot with hellow kitty plastered across his forehead. 

“Doc, do you think I need to come back in for a check up, ya know, just to see—“

But Ellie has already concluded her medical services, now hustling away to go find something else to do. 

-

Joel steps out to the backyard, where Sarah is cruising in her remote toy jeep with the 6 ducks packed in the passenger seat and trunk. 

She rolls to a stop, her brightly colored sunglasses peering up at her Dad. She sucks her ring pop silently, knowing the desperation he’s come to seek her out.

Sarah fully well knows Ellie has Joel in her back pocket, and she likes to let that play out. because ultimately… Sarah can also benefit from their needy relationship off one another.

Joel clears his throat, looking around as if he’s making an illegal trade. “I’ll give ya two ring pops if ya pretend to run me over. And not the face this time,” he warms, knowing she’’ll plea innocence to his own askings. “Just for Ellie to see.”

She sucks on her candy before pulling it out of her mouth with a loud pop. “I’d do it for free.”

----

taglist: @harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist @jeewrites

[blacknailsandheartbreak]

Imagine Zuko is working at the Jasmine Dragon and you are a regular :)

I love the small town coffee shop/ cafe feel, and when you throw in a romance trope- I will smother that MF in butter and eat it for my final meal. I love my grump x sunshine tropes, if you couldn’t tell. 

This one isn’t really following a proper timeline or story, cuz I’m not using Zuko and Irohs fake names and they really are just chillin in that tea shop for this story, BUT just a fluffy idea I really like. Anywho, fluffy and some steam ;) that gets steamy. (WINK WINK)

WC: ~2100 words

So let’s imagine…

Age of Admission: 18 and Wrinkled

Zuko is a server at the Jasmine Dragon tea shop owned by his Uncle Iroh. It became super popular very fast and you thought you would check it out. You walk in one morning and come to meet the owner, he introduces himself as Iroh. He is very kind and as you two talk, you find it is only himself and his nephew who work there. Iroh points out his nephew and when you turn to look where he motions, a figure disappears into the back. You thank Iroh for his kindness and say you cannot wait to come back. You would end up becoming a regular that would come in and read for a long time when the shop was quiet but leave when it got busy.

When you would come in, Zuko was always conveniently the one to help you. He would take your order, he would give you your tea and come by your table to check if you needed anything. He was nonchalantly cold to you but… not…? You would always smile and thank him and try to make small conversation, but Zuko never really engaged, he wasn’t rude and would agree with you then quickly move on. But over time, you noticed Zuko never stopped at any of the other tables to check on them, only yours. 

Over time it is very apparent that Zuko has the biggest soft spot for you but tries not to show it. He constantly stares at you, but glances away before he gets caught. Iroh obviously takes notice fairly quickly and tries talking with Zuko, but it is short lived. Iroh comments “You two would complement each other quite well. Not to mention the smile she brings out of you, now that's quite the achievement.” Zuko only rolls his eyes as he walks into the back. 

On another day you had been sitting for almost an hour finishing your second cup of tea, in the last few chapters of your book, Zuko was glancing at you from behind the counter as he dried a teapot. Iroh tried again, “You should talk to her.” Zuko visually tenses, “What?! No! What would I even say??” He said in a harsh whisper. “You are overthinking nephew, she always tries to spark a conversation, just let your conversation rivers flow and intertwine!” Zuko looked at him blandly, Iroh gave a soft smile, “A compliment can go a long way.” Iroh patted his shoulder and went to walk among the tables conversing with the customers.

One day you had stayed particularly later than you had thought as a rush didn’t happen and you were very into your book. Eventually Zuko walks over to you and places down a small dessert, it was some sort of pear tart. You smiled up at Zuko and thanked him for the kind gesture. “Yeah, we are closing soon and there happened to be some left that didn’t sell.” Zuko said. You shot up, not noticing the time, “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize the time. Can I take it to go?” You say standing and gathering your things, you start apologizing for holding them up but Zuko was only half listening as he looked out the window at the dark street. He was worried about you being out so late and walking home alone. He cuts you off and insists it's fine and to wait till after they close and he would walk you home. Your heart flutters as it was something you knew you wanted but didn’t realize how badly. You smile and nod your head in thanks, but Iroh had overheard and insisted that Zuko could head out now as he could close himself. 

Zuko and yourself walked along the main street, the night was dark but the street lamps lit your way. You hold your book with both hands in front of you as you talk about what happened in the many chapters you read tonight. Zuko and you walk side by side, you smile as you explain the events, Zuko listens but is watching around for anything to be cautious of. You both make it back to your apartment and you thank Zuko for the kind gesture and offer him to come in. To your dismay he declines, you were sad as he turned away and waved goodnight, knowing it was out of good chivalry. After what felt like the longest walk home of his life, Zuko returns to the tea shop. Iroh welcomes Zuko back and asks how it went, Zuko snapped “Do you stick your nose into everyone’s business, or just mine?” Iroh looked at Zuko for a moment, “She asked you to stay, didn’t she?” Zuko scrunched his nose and didn’t reply, he walked back to his room.

You had come down with a cold and didn’t return to the tea shop for a couple days. But little to your knowledge, through those couple days Zuko found himself waiting for you to walk through the front doors. He found himself looking at the door every time someone walked through but disappointment cooling his veins when it wasn’t you. 

After almost a week goes by you show up again, Iroh welcomes you back warmly and insists your regular order will be out swiftly before walking into the back. You smile and take a seat, pulling out your book, not long after Zuko is at your table with your tea. Zuko makes a comment about your absence and you explain how you had gotten a cold and then tease him about missing you. Zuko starts to try and back track his comment, you can see a bit of embarrassment peek through as he tries to cover up his feelings that showed through his concern of you missing. You decide to take a leap and try to show him it's ok. “Well, I missed your company too.” you said warmly, as Zuko composed, someone walked in and up to the counter. Zuko added it was nice to have you back before heading to serve the customer.

A rush started that afternoon so you marked your place in your book, paid and left. You spent some time in the market and on your route home you passed the tea shop. You walked by slowly to see Zuko sweeping by the front door, he looked up and questioned why you were out so late. You smiled and explained about the market, told him about the shops and liveliness. While you were talking Iroh pops out from the back mid question for zuko, but pauses when he sees you. He exclaimed how nice it was to see you again with a warm smile walking to you and Zuko. You return the gesture and brief him about the market that you explained to Zuko. Iroh agreed it sounded fun and insisted You show Zuko, all closing was basically done and could finish up by himself. 

You and Zuko made your way to the market and walked around, there were many food stands, flower stands, jewelry stands, fabric stands, anything you name it was probably there. As you both walked and you talked, a cool breeze started setting in so you looped your arm through Zukos and walked closer to him, commenting on his warmth. Zuko only hummed and continued on with you, even though his heart was totally a butterfly exhibit at that moment. Once the market was fully explored, Zuko offered to walk you home again as it was very late and he should get you home.

Once again you both ended up on your apartment door step. You thanked him for a great night and him walking you back, you unlocked and opened your door, offering again for Zuko to come in. Zuko starts to insist he leaves but you cut him off with a kiss. Zuko was surprised for only a split second, but kissed you back, placing his hands on your waist. You pull away and look up at him through your eyelashes, “Please, stay for a bit”. He looked at you, “Are you sure?” he asked, keeping his hold on your waist, your shirt parted slightly from your pants and the warmth of his hand hummed against your skin. You held his gaze while you grabbed his hand, taking him inside. 

Once you were both in, you handed Zuko the keys, he closed the door and locked it. The second he turned around you moved in, you placed your hand on his jaw and chest. Zuko lavished in your kiss and put his hands on the small of your waist, bringing you in as close as possible. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, but craved more. You grab the bottom of his shirt and pull up, Zuko releases you and grabs his shirt, yanking it off quickly, returning to your lips. But this time his hands didn’t fall on your waist, they reached to the back of your thighs, hiking you up with ease as pleasant yelp of surprise from you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. The kiss was so hot you pulled away, your head falling to the side as Zuko moved to kiss your jaw and neck. “Zuko…~ah!” He hummed in response, “Zuko, bedroom… behind us…” Zuko promptly moves to the door you mention, pushing it open with his foot, stepping in and swiftly closing it with a firm but gentle kick.

Zuko set you down on the bed, you eagerly took off your shirt and you laid chest bare, not having worn underclothing today. Zuko’s hands were immediately on your torso, and chest. As Zuko kissed along your neck and collar bone, you scrape your nails down his shoulders and slide your hands along his arms, feeling the lean build of his muscle. Zuko asks if this is ok, what you both were doing, you wasted no time in confirming you were more than ok with it. You grab the waist line of his pants and pull him close, he grunts and pushes himself further against you, you gasp. Zuko goes to remove your pants, you raise your hips to quicken the process. You now laid bare before Zuko, everything for him to see. You could feel the vulnerability creep in and the natural urge to cover, but you knew you were comfortable and this is what you wanted. Your hands worked his trousers and slid them off. Zuko stood proud as he hovered over you, laying between your legs. Anticipation slid around your stomach, you kissed deeply, you could feel Zuko at your entrance, you gasped. He leaned back and looked down at where you met, grinning. Pushing forward slightly, his head pushing against your kitten. “~mmh… ah!” You moan out as he pushes further in, Zuko lets out a breath as he rests on elbows over top of you. He pushes in all the way and an audible gasp leaves your mouth as you could swear he hit an organ. He pulls out and slides back in, in the most devilish way of feeling like he is hitting deeper with every thrust. Your eyes roll back as his hips move in the perfect way, feeling his skin against yours, his muscles move against your body. Zuko puts his arms under your knees and spreads your legs wide and pushes them up, giving him better access as well as deeper penetration, which is baffling to you in that second until he continues. Now nothing is going through your mind except Zuko's breath and your moans in the air. You felt a knot in your stomach form, you tapped on his shoulder and told him you were close. He groaned and kept going as you fell apart under him, almost reaching his peak as you became so sensitive you couldn't contain the moans coming from you. But before you could think, he was about to climax. Zuko cursed and pulled out, cumming on your stomach. You both are absolutely racked from the events, Zuko takes a deep breath in, kisses you and says he will be right back. He comes back with a towel, cleaning you up and laying next to you. 

You lay on his chest and relax, both being out of breath, Zuko said something that shocked you. He exclaimed how he missed you the week you were home sick, and not at the tea shop. You smiled sweetly and cuddled closer to his warm body, explaining how everyday you couldn’t stop thinking about him either.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Yan!Aemond T. NSFW A-Z

(For the multiple people who asked for a Yandere Alphabet for our favorite little War Criminal)

A stands for AFFECTION: how would they show affection?

•Aemond is a gift giver to the extreme

•From the moment you found out about your betrothal to your Uncle, you had been receiving gorgeous dresses, fantastic shoes and jewelry you could never have imagined wearing. All of the jewelry you were gifted containing large sapphires in the necklaces or earrings, staking the One Eyed Princes claim on you

B stands for BLOODY: how bloody are they willing to get for their object of obsession?

•He loves getting bloody on a normal occasion so getting bloody for you would be a joy for Aemond

•He would slaughter any and all men who dared even think they had a chance with his girl and he even killed a few women who thought it their place to ‘warn you’ about what he’s like and insist you needed to get out of the marriage proposal, even though you all knew that was impossible

C stands for CRUELTY: would they ever hurt their object of obsession?

•Aemond would avoid harming you as much as possible, he never liked to see pain on your face or bruises on your perfect porcelain skin but if you thought you were going to defy him then he needed to teach you a lesson

•Normally locking you in your rooms was enough after two days of isolation and eating all of your meals alone

•Only once did Aemond ever really hurt you and it was only after you had pushed him too far, something even you admitted he couldn’t ignore in public

D stands for DARLING: would they cross their object of obsession’s limits?

•Aemond is as patient as he can be with you but if you give him no other choice, then yes, he absolutely will

E stands for EXPOSED: how much do they expose their own feelings to their object of obsession?

•Aemond talks to you about almost everything

•One of your jobs as his wife is to listen to him and you quickly find out you’re the only person that he really tells about how he feels about everything from his mother to his brother to even his father

•He is also very open in how he feels about you, making it clear from the moment you are betrothed that you are his and he is completely obsessed with you loves you dearly

F stands for FIGHT: how would they react to their object of obsession fighting back?

•Aemond absolutely thinks it’s funny…for about 5 minutes

•You are his wife and him your husband, you will behave as a lady is expected to behave within the confines of her marriage so ‘fighting back’ isn’t really much of an option

G stands for GAME: do they think this is just a game?

•You are Aemond’s everything, this is no game

•Anyone who thinks it is will get a painful wake up call sooner than they think

H stands for HELL: what would be their object of obsession’s worst experience with them?

•Your worst experience would be the one time you made the mistake of refusing his demands in front of the small council

•Aemond didn’t want to harm you, he was trying quite hard to get you used to being his wife and doing your duties/behaving how he expected you to but you didn’t give him much of an option before you felt his hand strike your face so painfully you briefly thought he had broken your jaw

•He apologized for hitting you so hard later in the privacy of your rooms but informed you that you shouldn’t have said anything against him in front of anyone especially the small council and even you knew how badly you had messed up as soon as the words left your mouth

I stands for IDEAL: what are their plans for their object of obsession?

•Aemond’s plan is impregnating you

•That has been his plan since the moment he insisted his mother ensure you were going to be his wife

J stands for JEALOUSY: how they react when jealous? Do they get jealous?

•When Aemond is jealous someone is going to die, he is a violent man when he thinks another man is getting close to his wife and he will often publicly punish any man who he thinks is looking at his Princess wrong

•You learned very quickly to talk to other men as little as possible

•However you also learned that if you wanted a man dead you had a sure fire way to make it happen

K stands for KINDNESS: how they act around their object of obsession?

•When you and Aemond are alone he is much different than he is in public

•Aemond is usually a sweet, gentle person with you when he isn’t in a bad mood or you’re not being difficult

•Even when in public he is gentler with you than most men are with their wives, he’s just far more quiet and somber

L stands for LOVE LETTER: how would they approach their object of obsession?

•He made sure his mother knew he would only accept you as his wife, and that if Rhaenyra made the mistake of trying to marry you to anyone else he would steal you away before any wedding could take place and burn the Lords house to the ground, ally of the Hightowers or not

•Aemond was quite sweet to you, he always had been when you were children however he was a proper gentleman now and he ensured you were as happy as you could be…obsessively so

M stands for MASK: how different are their public persona from their true selves?

•He is quiet for the most part in public, and if he must say something it is usually a snarky comment or a backhanded insult

•With you he is very attentive and often needy for your attention which is actually what makes you fall for him in the end, loving his desperation for you

N stands for NAUGHTY: how would they punish their object of obsession?

•Aemond locks you in your chambers until you can’t stand being alone anymore and admit you were wrong for whatever, you never really need anything more than that

O stands for OPPRESSION: how many rights would they take from their object of obsession?

•Rights?

•What are rights?

•You are Aemond’s wife. You will do what is expected of a highborn lady wife or be punished. Even so, Aemond tries to make you as happy as he can and doesn’t order you about as much as he could

P stands for PATIENCE: how patient are they with their object of obsession?

•Aemond tries his best to be very patient and to his credit he does very well until you push too hard

•Compared to other men and even other Targaryen men, he is quite patient with you, wanting you to actually learn lessons and want to be a good wife for him in the end

Q stands for QUIT: if their object of obsession died or escaped, would they ever be able to move on?

Died: He would be a complete basket case without you and he would refuse to remarry for any reason what so ever

Escaped: He would go on a rampage until he got you back. No one would be safe until he found you and had you back in his arms

R stands for REGRET: would they ever regret harming their object of obsession? Would they ever let them go?

•Aemond will Never let you go

•He would only ever regret how hard he slapped you once in a small council meeting, he hated how afraid of him you were in that moment

S stands for STIGMA: what made their yandere tendencies bloom?

•You had always been the only one in the family who was kind to Aemond, being his best friend as kids

•He knew you would be his wife from the moment you first stuck up for him during the pig prank to your brothers and uncle, that was the day he fell completely in love with you

•He decided that night that he would do whatever he needed to do in order to make you his wife, even though he knew his mother would want to marry him to another house and that Rhaenyra would never want you to be with him

T stands for TEARS: how would they react to their object of obsession crying/breaking?

•Anger

•Your tears brings out a rage in Aemond that is not often seen and he will slaughter whoever has made you so upset

•If he were the one to upset you however, he wouldn’t really know how to fix that. He would typically hold you until you either calmed down or cried yourself out and then get you a gift as an apology since “apologizing” isn’t really something he knows how to do very well

U stands for UNIQUE: something different they would do compared to others yanderes.

•In the beginning of your relationship, before the wedding was set and you were staying as far from him as you could, Aemond came up with a plan to make you dependent on him and feel safe with him to ensure you wouldn’t try and run back home to Rhaenyra and Daemon (who was the only man you seemed to trust which enraged him to no end)

•Aemond had Criston Cole hire a man to sneak into the castle with the intent to kill you. He planed it out meticulously to ensure you were never in any real danger though you wouldn’t know that

•The man entered your chambers as you were getting ready to sleep and you shrieked, backing towards the window, pleading with him not to harm you and telling him that he could leave and you would forget he was ever there. Suddenly your door flew open and Aemond ran in, he was on the man before you could blink, beating his head in as he shouted about how he would never let anyone harm his wife

•It was that night that you really began giving Aemond the chance to win your love, realizing that you were truly safe with him. The entire plot was a secret that Aemond would take to his grave

V stands for VICE: what weakness their object of obsession could use against them?

•His jealousy, 100%

•If you want someone, anyone dead, all you need to do is make it seem like they’ve been looking at you for more than a second too long, it gives you a feeling of absolute power and you love it

W stands for WIT’S END: would they hurt their object of obsession?

•Aemond would never hurt you in any kind of serious way

•If he has to he will lock you in your chambers for the rest of your life, but he won’t do you serious harm

X stands for XOANON: would they worship their object of obsession?

•He definitely has a way of making you feel like a Goddess

•Especially when you’re pregnant as he worships the ground you walk on. He is constantly getting you whatever food you’re craving, fluffing your pillows, rubbing your sore feet, anything to make his precious Princess feel better while she is carrying his baby inside of her

•You are the most precious thing in the whole world to him and even when he is upset with you Aemond never lets you forget it

Y stands for YEARN: how long would they pine after their object of obsession before they snap?

•Aemond has always loved you, and always had a bit of a crush on you however he has been head over heels since he was 10

•He keeps it together and hidden until he is 16 and he demands you as his bride upon hearing that Rhaenyra was considering marriage proposals for you, the idea of you being married off to someone else sending him over the edge

Z stands for ZENITH: would they ever break their object of obsession?

•Aemond doesn’t want you broken, he wants you to be his compliant little Princess and that’s exactly what you are

•You had always known what was expected of you as a women and a wife in a marriage from the time that you were a little girl (though you never expected to be married to your Uncle) but Aemond ensured that you would be exactly what he always wanted in a wife and you are absolutely Perfect to him

Aemond T. Masterlist

[cherry-leclerc]

i hate you. i hate you? ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, love confessions, childhood friends to enemies/rivals to lovers (damn, tongue twister), maybe a bit angsty (don't worry too much about it though, lol), flashbacks that add to a tiny slow-burn

word count: 3.5k

The dwindling friendship that comes crashing down when you get offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Leading to a bumpy road with your best friend.

req!... i swear that when i put angst ITS NOT BAD. anyways, enjoy, anons!

Me encantaría formar parte del equipo, you muse whimsically, pigtails flying against the winter breeze. Sería un sueño hecho realidad. 

Despite being young, you knew you were different— came from a divergent background compared to those around you. Your family definitely didn’t have the resources to fulfill your dream to kart or race professionally. You partially blame your brothers for getting you into the sport. 

Si. Lo sería, a particular Spaniard, agrees. You smile. Your parents share a pitiful glance before sitting you down. It wasn’t going to happen, not because they didn’t want to but simply because they couldn’t afford such an expensive hobby that would probably kick you in the butt. 

That’s where your first guardian angel appeared. Carlos Sainz Sr. Better known as your best friend's father. Without a doubt, he offers to sponsor you, for he grew keen on having you around, enjoying time by the pool with his two girls and shy son. 

Was there a way you could ever thank him? No, not really— nothing would ever cover all he’s ever done for you, but you’d make sure to try your best to find a way. Even if it took you a lifetime. 

-

“You’ve known her for a lifetime! Probably five, for all we know!” Lando yelps, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t just call it quits on your friendship just like…” He snaps his fingers. 

Carlos shrugs. He fills up a styrofoam cup of coffee, silently offering one to his moody friend. The Brit rolls his colorful eyes. You’re making a mistake, he presses. It’s the Spaniards turn to grow serious. 

“Por favor—she should have thought about that before she stole my seat.”

That, you did. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. It could have never been, even if you had been warned. But suddenly you were getting an opportunity, the kind you only ever dreamt of. Carlos would be fine, he was a man who would eventually have a pile of teams interested in keeping him around. You, on the other hand, were surprised that anyone was even intrigued in having you form a part of their F1 team, much less— Ferrari. 

This was it, and you had to grab at the opportunity. You just never imagined losing a friend along the way.

Why would you even consider accepting? You flinch and he’s looking as if he regrets it, so you give him the benefit of the doubt. 

I know this isn’t what we were expecting, but think of it this way. I'd be coming in 2025 and you would already be too busy preparing to join Audi! It’ll work out. You’re still doing that, right? You knew he was, he had been so excited and told you as soon as he found out. Audi was in his blood.

He runs a large hand through his tangled hair, sighing. Still. You have to say no. You can’t do that to me. It’d be embarrassing.

Your shoulders drop an inch. Why? Because you’re being bought out or because a woman is keeping your seat? His silence is enough for your heart to break and for your mind to be made up.

I’m signing. 

-

There is indignation, and then there is you.

“You are such a—argh!” Pounding your fists against the locked door, you reach out to briskly twist the knob, trying your best to get out of the cramped room. The world was spinning, and you could feel a migraine rolling in strongly, but you swore—swore—you would kill him as soon as you got your hands on him. 

The morning had started off fairly simple. Show up, run a few tests on the stimulator, get to know a few of the mechanics you’d be working with, and finally, sign your contract. You had waited longer than intended, due to minor changes you had suggested, so you were extremely ready to get it done. This was supposed to be your day.

That is until the grumpy Spaniard pushed you, locked you in, and ran off before you had a chance to register what was going on. Fred had been adamant—show up on time. The next time he would be available would not be until three weeks, and that was ridiculously long if anyone were to ask. Carlos knew that.

Charles hums slowly, munching on a pack of M&M's when he hears the spine-chilling scream you let out, wood vibrating as you punch angrily. Hurrying over, he unlocks it from the outside, surprised by your appearance. Your hair is tussled, face is blotchy, vein throbbing. It’s definitely a sight to say the least. He mentions something about —he went that way— and —think about what you’re going to do— but you’re off before you settle with any of it.

The twists and turns make your head hurt, practically seeing red before you come to a halt. Smiling sophisticatedly, Carlos is sat, legs crossed, fingers pointing to his watch. No. “News for you, my dear friend; Fred just left.” The Spaniard winces playfully, already making his way out the door. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Charles was right. You should have thought about what you would do. Jumping onto his large back, your flimsy hands dig into the forest he calls hair, and pull. He screeches, swaying from side to side as he hurriedly tries to disconnect your legs from around his waist. Let go, he groans harder when you pinch his arm. 

“Why? Why did you do this—any of this?” At this point you’re kicking and screaming, panting, heaving. “Is it really that difficult to accept it? You lost. I’m in, you’re out.”

“At least we know she’s a fighter.”

Coming to a sudden stop, your eyes flicker to the familiar voice, instantly burning up. Fred taps his foot gingerly against the white tiles, an amused Monegasque standing right behind him. Jumping off of the sulky brunette, you begin to shake your head in disbelief, pointing towards the exit. “N-no…you’re supposed to be gone. He…” Then it hits you. This was a fucking set up.

“While I’m evenly impressed by your toughness, I will say, I think we should put a hold on signing.” Your stomach drops. The older man quickly waves his hands in dismissal, grinning apologetically. “We still want you! Nothing has changed, but I think it’s for the best that you fix things with Carlos before doing so. It’ll be good for you two.” With that, he bows his head, and strolls away, heading for the airport.

“I’m out too,” Charles whispered, slowly stepping back. “Fill me in on what happens, though!” 

As soon as your breath evens out—and Carlos creates a safe distance between you two—you let out a deranged chuckle. He almost cringes at the cold sound, but keeps his chin up high. “You did this all on purpose?” It’s a question but comes out more like a confirmation, which in a way, it was. Shutting your eyes, you tilt your head with a ghostly smile. “You knew he hadn’t left and let me make a fool out of myself. Why would you do that?” you grit, orbs laser focused on him as if you could light him up into flames if you really set your mind to it.  

“Why would I not?” he stubbornly spits back.

“You asshole, I’m just trying to make your dad proud.”

A pinch of guilt dives deep into his veins as he watches you stomp down the hallway, mindlessly tugging at his heart.

-

I say we let him burn, Ana pitches the idea, laying flat on her bed as you scoff with a knowing smile. 

Does it make me a bad person if I don’t disagree with you? 

She sits up, eyeing where you calmly paint down on a canvas. She squints her eyes. “What even is that?” Holding your art with pride, you shoot a sheepish smile. Nice, huh? The Spaniard’s youngest sister giggles, nose scrunching up at the dark sight. “I’m confused—is he supposed to look like that?”

You curl an analytical brow, shooting a quick snarl. “I think it’s pretty good. And yes. He’s supposed to be getting run over by my future car. What a sight.” You dramatically swoon.

Ana drops her stare, focusing instead with a teasing curl gripping the corner of her lips. “Remember when instead of plotting his death, you’d be fantasizing about a life with him? God, I could still remember all the hearts—the glitter.” She shudders, faintly recalling the mess in her room, which led to Reyes giving you both a good scolding, but not before winking at a red-faced you. 

Looking away feverishly, you shake your head, picking up the flimsy paint brush once again, never once bothering to make eye contact with her. “I was young. Stupid as shit. I can’t even remember what I loved about him.”

“Liked,” she corrects you.

You cough. “Right. Liked.”

-

If the Spaniard took the time to sit down, roll through a philosophical journey, wonder where things might have changed for him—it would have saved him enduring a puddle of dreadfulness at this very moment.

Ana’s wedding. The first of his sisters who would get married. It was a bittersweet day, and not just because she was finally leaving the family nest. “Who is she…” he can hear himself ask. Almost demand. The brunette smirks, slightly pleased. 

“My best friend. You’re nemesis,” she jokes. 

Carlos growls slowly, lightly pinching her cheek as she yelps. “With. You know what I mean.”

“Lalo. She met him a few weeks ago. Very nice guy.” A beat. “Please don’t ruin my wedding.”

But he’s not even listening. Brown eyes follow to where you stand straight, arms crossed over your body like a shield. He always knew you’d been self-conscious, but never understood why. You were stunning. Lavender dress hugs your curves beautifully. A trace of honey fills any area you fall into. Your hair is nicely pinned up, allowing him to enjoy your silky skin. 

And it seems like Lalo too.

Rubbing a large hand against his smooth jaw—which was only neat since Reyes had hounded him to fix his appearance for his sister’s big day—he smoothly made his way over. Rupert warns the Spanirad with his eyes, but Carlos scoffs. Did everyone think he had something up his sleeve? 

“Enjoying yourselves?”

Mid-sip, your face freezes, doe-eyes flickering between Lalo, then Carlos. Then Carlos, then Lalo. God, when did the room begin to boil? Your voice gets caught in your throat, to make matters worse. Carlos’ personal trainer pity’s you for a split second, deciding to help out. “The drinks are stellar, mate. We’ve been hogging the bar for so long at this point.”

The brown eyed boy studies your so-called date, faking a cold smile. “You don’t say…Carlos, by the way,” he says, extending his arm out. “Remind me of your name again, sorry, she’s just never mentioned you before. At all, really. I apologize.”

“That’s okay, we only just met a few weeks ago. We’re taking it slow.” We’re. The word itself makes the 29 year old fear he might puke right then and there. “Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo. Huge fan.”

“Mines or hers?” Carlos bitterly questions, thick lips forming a straight line. Lalo awkwardly clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pulling away and leaning in to hold you close. 

“Guess it’s my turn to apologize now. Hers. Always. But you’re pretty cool, too, I suppose.” His voice is light, unbothered. It makes Carlos tick furiously, though he doesn’t dare show it. You can’t pinpoint the moment tension rose up, snapping you out of your trance. Blinking hastily, you aim a sour snarl at the Spaniard. 

“We were sort of having a good time, so…” You shoo him away with a jeweled hand. “I just don’t want to kill the vibes. You understand, right?” Barely giving him a chance to respond, you turn back to your conversation, leaving Lalo and Rupert to appear puzzled, but stupidly playing along.

With a raw click of the tongue, the 29 year old takes a step forward, leveling down to your ear. “Pretend all you want, but you’re still wearing my initials around that pretty wrist of yours.” And walks away.

It was true. Your parents had gifted you a lucky charm bracelet for your fourteenth birthday, and Carlos greedily beat everyone to it. A car, for your love for Formula One. A chili, a shy thank you for his nickname. An ice cream, well, because you just loved ice cream. And a cursive CS. For him. 

Watching him walk away left you with a hole in your heart. You did not need a reminder like that on a day like this. Wearing it was purely out of habit, it had no meaning to it anymore. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. The need to use the restroom was a complete lie as you wordlessly peek for the broad Spaniard. You spot his glossy shoes first, sticking out the photo booth. 

“Scoot,” you say, gently cramming him in deeper. Once you get situated, you slide the silver charm off, handing it over to him. “Here.”

He furrows his dark brows. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want anything tying me back to you anymore. It was kind—sweet—but that was past you. You’re cruel, mean, rude, a fucking jerk now. I don’t like that, so— here.”

“I don’t want it,” he retorts, curling your flat hand into a fist, forcing you to hold it tight. 

“Well I don’t either, so what is there to do? You know what; I’ll just sell it. It’s not even that significant,” you mumble, already making your way out, but not before he hauls you back. Falling straight onto his thigh. You can feel your pulse quicken, your cheeks tingle, and your eyes suddenly burn. “Let me go,” you squeal, trying your best to weasel out of his grip. He groans, placing a large hand on either side of your hips, pushing you down.

“No. Just listen to me first.” Sighing, you nod. You should be climbing off; there’s room for two. He should be pushing you off; there’s room for two. But none of that happens as he clears his throat, rehearsing his words over and over before you raise a neat brow, waiting for him. “Perdón. Por todo.” 

Not what you were expecting and he could tell when you let out a small gasp. Nervously, he licks his lips, admiring your plump ones that don’t lay too far off from his own. “I used to be so proud of you when we were just kids. When you first admitted you wanted to race too. It was adorable, the way your eyes lit up.” Your breath deepens, unknowing of what this was leading to. “But I’ve always been proud. That’s never changed.”

“You’re a terrific liar,” you timidly chuckle, patting his shoulder, making him back off a little. But he only ricochets forward, twice as close. Your insides churn. 

“You don’t know how fucking happy I was when you got a seat. Over the moon. But I won’t lie; I was hurt and said some shitty things that have no excuse tied to them. I know I hurt you—I know that now. But that feeling vanished when worry came creeping in. I don’t want you to sign that contract.”

You flinch, reality crashing down on you once again as you examine the Ferrari driver. “Why apologize if you haven’t changed? My feelings aren’t a joke,” you whimper pathetically, tears sliding down your cheeks, soft brows drawn together. 

He panics, gingerly brushing them away to the best of his ability and you don’t have the power to fight him off anymore. You’re too busy getting your heart broken once again by the same man. 

She’s beautiful. Insanely—it’s insane. Her eyes are a shade of green I’d never thought I’d like.

I once wore a shade of green shorts last summer and you called them ugly. Said it looked like vomit. 

Carlos sighs dreamily, dominantly shaking his head. 

Well crap. I must’ve changed my mind.

Present him, was taking in your frantic sobs and he doesn’t know how else to calm you if it's not by rubbing your back gently. It takes a while, but you eventually ease up, occasionally letting out a shaky breath. “First of all, let me tell you why I did everything within me for you not to sign. It’s no good.”

You tilt your head in confusion, nose runny as he hands you his handkerchief. “I-I’m confused.”

Carlos chuckles. “What was the one thing I would always complain to you about when I was away racing?” Lack of privacy? “Okay, second thing I raved about…” When you don’t answer, he sheepishly wiggles his brows. “How tired I was with my team. It’s exhausting because like it or not—we’re not at our prime. I don’t think we will be for a couple of years. But for my benefit, I’ll be gone, and then it’s only going to fall on-”

“Me,” you finish, glossy eyes dancing through his painful expression.

 He nods. “Listen, Charles will be fine. Mentally not, but he’ll do just okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Not only will you dive in, nose first into a world of ruthless men, but you’ll always be the entire blame. In their eyes, it'll be you. What did you do wrong? How could you fuck up? And sure, you might sometimes—it's inevitable— but other times you won’t. But you’re a girl, and that’s enough for the fingers to be pointed at you.”

Shaking your head profusely, you instantly reach up to catch your hair from falling from its tiring up-do. He helps you out, combing his fingers nicely, though this time it doesn’t get rid of the queasy feeling. He was right. God, why did he have to be right? 

“I’m well aware of what I’m about to get myself into. But I think I can handle it. I can’t not do it—imagine how many girls it would help pave the way for? I’m sure as fuck it won’t be easy, and it might threaten my sanity, but I need to do this. And I’m sorry.”

An unfamiliar wave crashes against his warm eyes, a low breath being expanded into the air. You can feel it, taste it. Mint mojito. Your body told you, you liked it, with the way you wanted to lean in and kiss him—just to confirm. Pursing your lips, you continue. “You have your future decided and I have mine.”

With a hesitant bow, and a tide of curls flying forward, he clears his throat. “You’ve always been this way. Dedicated. And I could never decipher why. Until now.” He can’t help but brush his nose against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing him to appreciate your pretty features. “If you’re sure, then I’m right behind you.”

You almost want to laugh, but are too scared to ruin the moment, so instead count his freckles. “I am…” A sharp inhale. “But what’s the second thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said ‘first of all’. I would assume there’s more…” You know there is, but you just want to hear him say it aloud. You’d seen the way he glared viciously at Lalo, chest firming. You’d seen the way things had shifted between you two, months prior, after his break up.

If this racing thing doesn’t work out, you would make a killer artist. He whistles.

Down boy, you joke. It’s just a swan. I resonate with them. 

He sits up straighter. Then consider me a swan, too.

You laugh loudly, tossing your head back as he smiles. Why all of a sudden?

Just.

“It took me a while to get here, but I’m here.” He cradles your delicate face. “I think I love you. I-I mean I know I love you. Your stubbornness, your compliance. Your level-headedness, your intrusive actions. Your need to persevere and be better—even if others make it hard on you.” You giggle, poking his chest. “But above all, I love the way you made me work for it. I’m glad you did because how else could I have realized if you didn’t drag that dead-beat?”

“Hey! He’s nice!”

The 29 year old tsks. “Nice isn’t enough and you know it.” His pink lips graze over yours as you lean in too. “You’ve always been a smart girl…” He’s about to kiss you when you slide back, leaving him hanging. He clenches his jaw, seeming teased. 

“I love swans because I know I can love as deep as one.” 

“I can too.”

“And I know, you know, that I love you too.”

“I do know that.”

“And I lit you up on fire, but only on paper!”

His brows furrow. “Yeah, we can circle back to that. But I don’t care. I love all that about you. And I want you to know my father has always been proud of you.” He winks. “But never as much as me.”

“We’re doing this then?” you ask nervously. “Y-you’re still going to have to grovel. I don’t give up that easily. Especially after all you’ve put me through.”

Carlos gently nods, eyes adoring you. “I’ve waited more than a decade for this moment. What’s one more?”

And he kisses you.

taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings

*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!

[discordantwritings]

Guiding Star (Jinbe x Reader)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn afab! reader, monsterfucking, Jinbe has two dicks, oral sex (m receiving), double penetration, belly bulge, Jinbe talks you through it

WC: 4.6k

Summary: You have a big, giant, fat crush on your newest crew mate, Jinbe. You don’t hold out any hope that he likes you back but you’ve been convinced you should at least give it a shot. Who knows? Maybe he does like you back.

Notes: if jinbe is OOC I’m sorry but I watched every clip and video I could get my hands on. I just had to write some monsterfucking ok? Ok.

It’s embarrassing how much you’ve been staring at the newest crew member. But how could you not?

Jinbe, former warlord and knight of the sea was now the helmsman for the Thousand Sunny and you found him occupying your thoughts quite frequently. At first you were intimidated by him- incredibly tall stature and his battle prowess left nothing to the imagination of what he could do to anyone who got in his way. But as you saw him around the ship and his interactions with your fellow straw hats you saw a different side of him.

He was kind, he was polite, and the way his laugh boomed through the decks always made you smile. It was like he’d been a crew member for years now, fitting right into everyone’s routine effortlessly. You hadn’t talked to him one on one a lot but every time you did it was a wonderful conversation. If he let you you could probably sit and listen to his stories for hours on end.

And there was… well…

He was hot.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t everyone’s taste but you honestly couldn’t wrap your head around why more people weren’t swooning over him. He was at least three feet taller than you and almost entirely muscle. Not that he looked it but when he easily hefted barrels over his shoulder like it was nothing you could only imagine what it would be like to be picked up and maneuvered around so easily. And when he lets his kimono fall past his shoulders and simply knot around his waist letting his broad shoulders and wide chest out-

God.

You were spending too much time around Sanji.

You honestly don’t mean to be a pervert. You spend a lot of time kicking yourself internally for how far your brain has traveled into the gutter. Most days you try not to spend too much time around the fishman, worrying that he will catch you staring or pick up on your feelings. That would just ruin everything- you might like him but chances are he wouldn’t return the emotions.

“You’re thinking about him again.” Robin’s voice startles you out of your thoughts and you whip around to see her standing there, arms crossed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try to play it off, but Robin is clearly not having it.

“You have that love struck yet sad look on your face.” Robin states as she sits down next to you. “You’re thinking about a certain helmsman.”

You sigh. Robin had picked up on your crush probably before you did. It was nice to have someone to confide in but it was still embarrassing. “Maybe I am…”

“How many times do I have to tell you to just go talk to him?”

“See it sounds easy when you say it like that but you know it’s more complicated.” You sink back into the bench, arms folded.

“And avoiding a fellow crew member and constantly moping around isn’t making things complicated?” You cringe because of course she is right.

“But…” You lean onto Robin’s shoulder. “What if he doesn’t like me. I mean- it’s more likely that he doesn’t like me than he does really considering…” The whole human and fishman thing.

“You don’t know that. And even if he turns you down he’s a kind and understanding individual. He would never hold it against you.”

“You’re so smart…” You mumble into her shoulder.

“Yes, yes.” Robin pats your head. “Now what do you think about talking to him tonight.”

You shoot upright. “Tonight? That’s so soon I don’t-“

“He’s going to be up late redirecting our course so you can approach him when no one else is around. And it’ll be on deck so you can run away if anything happens.”

You think it over. Of course that seems like a good plan. But could you actually go through with it?

“Fine.” You relent, sagging back into the bench. “Tonight.”

“Good.” Robin claps her hands together. “This will be great. Trust me.”

And you do trust her. Enough to let the anxiety stir in your stomach for the rest of the day as you waited for the hours to pass by. Dinner was awkward for you, Robin shooting you looks as you tried not to make eye contact with anyone, afraid people will see how nervous you were. But dinner was over fast enough and everyone slowly made their way to bed. All except you and Jinbe. Slowly making your way up to the helm under the light of the stars you saw him.

Seeing him at the wheel sent a wave of calm over you. He was always so capable and you know that your crew and the Thousand Sunny were safe in his capable hands. Jinbe must have sensed you hovering as he glances over your way. A large smile comes over his face when he realizes it’s you.

“You’re up late.” He comments, not fully turning away from his duty but keeping an eye on you.

“Oh, yeah, just…” You walk the final strides to be next to him- not close by any means but average conversation distance. Hopefully. “Wanted to talk.”

“Oh?” Jinbe drops one hand from the helm to face you properly. When his attention is on you you feel your heartbeat quicken and your nerves rise.

“I uh… I’m really not sure how to say this…” You can’t make eye contact with him, eyes glued to the planks of the deck.

“If I’ve done something to offend you-“ Jinbe sounds concerned and that sends a pant of guilt through you.

“No! Nothing like that actually-“ You take a deep breath. You just had to rip off the bandaid. “I like you. In a romantic capacity.”

You want to fling yourself off the deck and let the ocean take you for how awkward that just sounded. Still unable to look at him you’re left wondering what is going through his head as silence hangs in the air.

“Ah. I understand.” Finally comes Jinbe’s response. It’s just what you’re expecting, something small and polite that hints that you should drop it. Of course. At least it’s over now and you-

“I feel the same way.”

What?

Your eyes dart up from the deck to Jinbe’s face and you see him smiling wide, all teeth. You search for some hint of a joke or deception but can’t find it. He turns his attention back to the helm, turning it ever so slightly and leaving you to flounder.

“Oh. Okay then.” Was all you could think to say, standing there wondering what the hell just happened.

The sound of the water lapping against the boat was barley audible over your own heartbeat thrumming in your ears. Do you go now? Do you stand here? Are you supposed to be saying something?

“Do you want to see something?” Jinbe’s deep voice grabs you out of your thoughts to see him looking down at you. You nod, and he steps back from the helm and motions for you to take his place.

With slight hesitation you step behind the wheel. You feel him move behind you and you realize when you hear his voice next to your ear that he’s kneeled down.

“So if you look up here…” His hand travels past your shoulder, pointing. “Do you see that bright star?”

He’s so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your neck and you have to purposefully slow your breathing. You follow his finger and look up into the night sky. It takes you a second to find it amongst the hundreds of brilliant lights but eventually you do- one shining just a bit brighter than the rest.

“I think I do.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to speak louder.

“That’s the star that navigators use to anchor everything. Nami and I split the job of directing the ship but she always gives me directions in relation to that star. Almost every single person on this world uses that star to guide them.”

You’ve heard mention of this star before, being on the sea for as long as you had, but the way he explains it to you and how he’s practically surrounding you while he does so is a whole new experience. “Wow.”

“It’s one of those things I remember when we all get so caught up in our differences. We all have more in common than we might think. We all have the same stars.” His hand falls and it skims your side as it does so and you shiver.

“That’s beautiful.” You say, still staring up at the stars.

“Not quite as beautiful as you.” His voice had dropped an octave and the way it reverberated through your chest made your breath hitch.

“You can’t just say things like that.” You know your face is completely flushed from his words and how damn close he was to you.

“Why not? I thought you liked me.” His tone was teasing and you huffed.

“Yes- but- this is all so embarrassing.” You bury your hands in your face, mortified about how poorly you were handling everything.

You felt large hands gently turn you around and you wanted to retract further out of sheer embarrassment. Even though you have your eyes screwed shut under your hands you still feel his gaze on you.

“You’re going to have to look at me at some point.” You can hear the humor in his voice and you suck in a breath and drop your hands.

He’s on one knee in front of you but his face is still a bit higher than yours. It’s closer than it’s ever been before and you find yourself scanning his face and taking in every detail. The way his fangs shine in the moonlight, his smooth blue skin, and the deep scar across his right eye. You can even see a faint blush creep over his cheeks, a deep purple against light blue.

“If I didn’t know any better I would think you’d never seen a fishman before.” He says, taking you out of your trance.

“I just- you’re so handsome.” You admit, finally able to lock eyes with him.

“It’s not often people say that to me.” It’s his turn to break away from your gaze.

“I don’t understand that at all. But maybe I am glad no one snatched you up before I could.” You feel emboldened by seeing his reaction to your compliment.

“Just maybe?” Jinbe’s eyes find yours again as his hand finds your shoulder. You lean into the touch as his thumb rubs small circles into your skin.

“I’m really glad no one snatched you up before I could. And also that you like me as well.”

“You really thought I wouldn’t?” His motions don’t cease and you feel your nerves leaving you.

“I really did. I mean I was terrified you would think I was some pervert or something.” You admit.

“Pervert? Why?” He sounds genuinely confused.

“Well- I mean-“ You shift on your feet slightly. “I might have been staring at you. A lot.”

“Hm? Really now?” A finger comes up to your face and brushes across your cheek. “And while you were staring… what would you think about.”

His words make your stomach twist in anticipation and your breath quickens as you debate what to say. You could play it off, say something that would leave him thinking you were more put together than you were but with the way he’s looking at you…

“A lot of things. Mostly about how big and strong you are. How it would feel to touch you- be touched by you.” Once you started speaking the words just tumbled out. You searched Jinbe’s face for a reaction and are relieved to see him break into a huge smile.

“This might be too forward of me- and tell me if it is- but I could touch you. If you’d like.” He was so polite and so kind.

You lean into his hand, still on your face. “I would really love that.”

“Perfect!” His voice followed by a booming laugh makes you giggle. He stands up and you remember just how tall he is, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Hold on.”

You’re confused for a second before Jinbe easily scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder. You let out a small yelp that devolves into more giggles as you’re carried off. Even though you’re facing backwards you can tell where he’s going pretty fast- taking the ladder up to the crow’s nest. Typically unoccupied at this time of night it’s the one place on the ship you two could get some privacy.

He slides you off his shoulder gently and you have to take a second to reorient yourself. While you balance, Jinbe sits down on one of the benches and waits patiently for you. Once you collect yourself you take the few steps over to Jinbe, slotting yourself between his wide legs so you can get as close to him as possible. You pause, face hovering only inches from his as your eyes scan his face.

“You sure?” He asks softly, a finger moving a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yes.”

He looks at you for a moment more before finally moving in to kiss you.

It was unlike any other kiss you’d had before. His lips were surprisingly soft and smooth as they pressed against yours gently. He moved slowly and he was able to keep his tusks from scraping you. You felt their presence though, cool and hard on the sides of your mouth. The kiss was was everything you thought it would be and more.

You found yourself leaning into him, supporting yourself on his shoulders as large hands came to gently hold you at your sides. His hands encompass your waist and heat pools in your stomach at that fact.

You loose track of time kissing him as your hands and his explore each others bodies. His skin is smooth and cool under your touch, different but not unwelcome. Rough fingertips find your skin just under your shirt, raising it up a few inches just so he can feel you. The two of your drift like this for what feels like hours until the heat under your skin builds up and you need more.

“Jinbe-“ You whine as you break away from the kiss.

“Hm? What do you need?” He asks, his thumb rubbing circles into your hip.

“Can I-“ You fight through the embarrassment and sink down to your knees in front of him. Your hands smooth over his thighs as you look up at him. His eyes are wide in surprise and lust and you see his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“You don’t have to. It’s…” He trails off but your hands are at the knot in his kimono, slowly untying.

“I want to. Please?” You bat your eyes and he’s gone. He nods and you finish your work on the knot and gently part the fabric.

Of course you had thought about what he would look like. Rumors about what fishmen genitalia looked like always hung around but you never met anyone with first hand experience, no one you would trust to actually have a real story. You had ideas, hopes maybe, but what was sitting in front of you was beyond what you imagined.

Mostly because there was two of them.

Two smooth members were erect and flush against Jinbe’s stomach. Starting off thinner and tapering to impossibly thick at the base they look like they could have been one larger cock before being split down the middle. Just one of them was far larger than anything you’ve ever seen and both of them together? Well you know there’s no possible way all of him will fit inside you. But that doesn’t mean you don’t want whatever your body could possibly take.

“Like I said- you don’t have to-“ Jinbe’s slightly nervous voice sounds above you and you realize you’ve probably been staring for a while.

“No!” You answer, embarrassingly eager. “This is-“

You can’t find the proper words so you decide to show him.

Taking the right one into your hand you press a kiss to the very base, enjoying the way he shuddered under your touch. You continued upward, pressing sloppy kisses and leaving his cock slick with your saliva. After thorough attention you repeated your actions on the other. You watch as Jinbe’s hands fist in the fabric pool around his thighs, relishing in the small grunts and groans you are able to get out of him.

Satisfied with your preparation you bring both your hands around both his members, pushing them together as you slowly pump down and then back up. You hold your hands there and take both tips into your mouth. Above you Jinbe hisses and you feel one of his hands shoot up to the back of your head. He just holds it there, fingers weaving into your hair but you know he’s holding himself back.

Your tongue swirls around the tips as you take more into your mouth. You don’t get far but that doesn’t seem to matter to Jinbe as you feel his fingers grip your hair tighter as you work. Pulling off you stop holding the two together and instead gently maneuver them apart, running your tongue down through the gap as your hands gently worked up and down.

“Fuck-“ You don’t think you’d ever heard Jinbe swear before but the husk in his voice sends a fresh wave of heat to your core. “You feel so good.”

His encouragement is all you need. You take just one of his cocks in your mouth this time and you’re able to take him farther down. Flattening out your tongue and relaxing your throat you’re able to take almost half of him down your throat. His hand grips your hair tighter but doesn’t hold you down and the slightly pain of having your hair pulled keeps you grounded. You keep him there as long as you can until you have to pull yourself off, saliva running down your chin as you pant for air. As you catch your breath Jinbe’s hand smooths over your hair and you hear Jinbe whispering soft praises to you. Finally ready, you take a deep breath and repeat your motions to the other cock as you slowly pump the one covered in your saliva. When you go to switch back the hand at your head stops you, gently directing your gaze up.

“Get back up here.” The soft but firm command has you standing up immediately and he pulls you into a kiss.

There’s more heat in it this time as his hands move from your waist, over your ass, and to your thighs. With little effort he lifts you up and onto his lap, never breaking the kiss. You feel his hands come up and around to the waistband of your pants and you get the message. Reaching down you quickly unbutton and shove them down along with your underwear, maneuvering yourself so you can get them off and fling them to the side somewhere. You hover over his lap and with your knees on his thighs you remain face to face with him.

One of Jinbe’s hands stays at your waist, holding you in place while the other finally dips down between the two of you to where you need him most. Cool calloused fingers find your folds and he hums appreciatively.

“Soaking wet just from pleasuring me?” He smiles and you bury your face into his shoulder, embarrassed.

You feel his fingers part your folds and you feel the press of one large finger at your entrance. It has no trouble sliding in with how soaked you are. You moan into his shoulder and your arms come up to latch around his thick neck. The finger gently pushes in and out of you, the slick sounds filling the space.

“I have to ask.” His voice reverberates in your chest. “Do you want me inside you?”

“Please Jinbe.” You’re surprised at how needy you sound, practically whining.

“Then I’ll need to work you open.” Even just that promise has your breaths coming heavier.

A second finger finds its way to your entrance, gently sliding in next to the first. You already feel full and wonder what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into. But when he slowly scissors his fingers open you forget everything.

“Jinbe-“ Your fingernails can’t dig into his thick skin but that doesn’t stop you from trying.

“I know, I know.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. “You’re taking my fingers so well.”

You moan at his words as he continues to slowly work you open. It’s not too much longer before you feel a third finger threatening to join the other two.

“You can take it, just relax.” You do your best, taking deep breaths as a third thick finger enters you, making you feel impossibly full. His words, the slow but calculated actions, the feeling of fullness, it’s all too much.

“Jinbe- I’m- fuck-“ You stutter out unable to fully form a sentence.

“It’s ok, just let go. It’s alright just relax.” The hand on your hip runs gently over your side and you fall apart.

“That’s it. So good for me.” Jinbe whispers into your ear, his fingers still slowly working in and out of you through your orgasm. You press kisses to his shoulder as he keeps moving inside you, continuing to stretch you out.

“I need-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as Jinbe’s fingers hit that spot deep inside you.

“Tell me what you need love.”

You groan in frustration and pleasure. “You- I need you inside me please.”

“Anything you want.” His fingers pull out of you and you whine at the loss.

You look down between your bodies and see him take both of his dicks into his hand, using your slick to coat them. Mesmerized and a bit intimidated you stare down as both tips get aligned with your entrance.

“You don’t have to do this, it’s ok if we stop here.” His thoughtful words make you look into his eyes and you shake your head.

“No, I want this, as much as I can take.” You press a kiss to his mouth that he eagerly takes.

You have to pull away from his mouth as he enters you, one hand guiding himself and the other hand on your hip slowly pushing you down. Your mouth hangs open as you feel him enter you, stretching you out already. Focusing on your breathing you rest your forehead on Jinbe’s shoulder as you slowly sink further down.

“That’s it just breathe. You’re taking me so well.” You can hear a strain in his voice signaling that this is effecting him just as much as it is you.

“You’re- fuck-“ You swear loudly as you feel him gently touch your cervix. “That’s-“

“I feel it, it’s alright, I’ve got you.” Jinbe holds you up with one hand, allowing you to take the strain off your legs. You know you aren’t taking all of him in you, still a few inches away from his base.

The stretch feels impossible- like you’re about to split down the middle. You would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt, but you breathed through that pain and with soothing words from Jinbe in your ear you slowly begin to relax. Face still buried in Jinbe’s shoulder, you feel the hand not holding you come around to your front and a calloused finger presses against your clit. You try to say something, but you can’t form words, only moans and whines into the smooth skin of his shoulder.

“It’s okay love just let go.” He rubs slow circles into your clit.

“I don’t-“ You whine, embarrassed how fast you are already at your edge again.

“I want you to let go. Come apart on me. Just for me.” His words are like honey and you can’t help but grind on his finger pushing yourself over the edge.

“That’s it that’s-“ Jinbe groans as he feels your walls flutter around him. “You feel so good around me- so good.”

You push yourself up a bit so you can look at Jinbe. His face is just as flushed as yours, stormy eyes dilated with lust. “‘m ready.”

Jinbe nods and slowly lifts you up and you feel every inch dragging out of you before he lowers you back down. You watch Jinbe’s jaw go slack and you feel a a tinge of pride knowing he’s just as effected as you are. Watching his face you see his gaze go down between the two of you. The hand not moving you skates up over your stomach and you look down.

Underneath Jinbe’s palm you see your stomach bulge out with every thrust. His palm presses down against the bulge and it’s a sensation you’ve never felt before and both you and Jinbe moan loud.

“See me filling you up? You’re taking me so well watch-“ His voice is breathier and faster and you know he is getting closer to falling apart.

You’re mesmerized, watching him go in and out of you, seeing and feeling the stretch. You don’t know how your body will ever be the same after this, how anyone else could ever compare when you’ve been pushed to impossible limits by Jinbe.

“You like that don’t you?” Jinbe says, feeling the way your walls flutter as you watch him. “Are you close? I’m almost there-“

“Yes- shit I’m close-“ You tangle your hands in Jinbe’s hair, gripping right to ground yourself.

“You feel so good falling apart around me- need to feel that again- can you do that? Just for me love?” He moves you faster up and down as he pleads with you and for the third time tonight you cum.

Almost completely out of your body you still feel Jinbe moving in and out of you, still chasing his end. His careful movements stutter and you know he’s almost there.

“Jinbe- I want you to finish inside me- please-“ You whine, overstimulated but still needy.

That seems to be all he needed and you feel him thrust up into you one last time before releasing inside you. You feel him filling you up an impossible amount, his cum already spilling out of you and dripping down below.

He gently pulls you off of him and holds you close, a hand smoothing your hair as he whispers praises to you as you regain your senses. It’s not long before he’s standing up with you still in his arms and before you know it you’re in the showers and Jinbe is carefully washing you off in the warm water.

By the time you’re cleaned up you feel alright to stand, wrapping yourself in a bathrobe as you cling to Jinbe’s side. You know he has to go back to his watch but you don’t want to leave him and he senses that.

“You can stay with me, if you’d like.” He offers as the two of you walk out of the showers. You nod and he immediately picks you up again, carrying you back to the helm.

He sits on the bench of the deck, leaning back as you curl up and get comfortable in his arms. Under the stars and in the arms of your new lover you fall asleep, excited for what your new relationship will hold.

[hrtwayne]

Her Royal Highness || Jenna Ortega

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Princess of Scotland!Reader (Your Royal Highness AU!)

Summary: Where a school competition might lead you and Jenna to discover that hatred was actually a hidden passion!

Note: This chapter was inspired by the book Her Royal Highness! (English is not my first language!!)

Warning: Mentions of arguments, class differences, and a possible kiss!

Part Two | Masterlist

Among all the things Jenna could like in the world, being stuck in the middle of a frozen forest with a stupid princess who had absurd charm was definitely not one of them. Once again, she was caught up in something because of that damn blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. Even so, her mind always played tricks on her when it came to the Scottish girl. She shouldn’t give in to the charm of the taller girl.

"Give me your backpack, Ortega," the girl said, her thick accent unmistakable.

"So you can fall and force us to quit this damn competition?" Jenna retorted in a harsh tone.

"Look, I really want to get out of this cold, alright? So could you just give me the damn backpack, Ortega?" the blonde shot back, watching as Jenna groaned before handing over the backpack with both of their clothes.

What Jenna didn’t realize was that this was all part of another elaborate plan born of the blonde’s fertile imagination. It wasn’t the first time she tried to escape school or come up with some ridiculous excuse to get expelled. As Jenna walked past her, the girl “accidentally” let both backpacks slip into the bottom of the frozen lake.

The American girl’s mouth fell open, letting out a dissatisfied sound, and the Scottish princess felt the piercing glare of the brunette as they both tried to save the damn backpacks containing their jungle survival kits. Jenna's stormy brown eyes were enough to make Laird shiver.

"You’re an idiot, Laird! Now we’re both stuck in this damn forest without even a trace of internet!" Jenna exclaimed, watching the girl freeze.

"I didn’t think about that, Ortega," her voice trembled as the cold seeped into her wet clothes.

"Of course, you didn’t think about it. The only thing you ever think about is ruining everything around you," Jenna snapped, stomping off toward a fallen tree.

A low grumble escaped Laird as she felt the cold begin to settle into her body. The sun was nearly disappearing over the horizon. The blue-eyed girl blinked a few times before walking over to the brunette.

"I’m sorry for getting you into this, Jenna," her voice wavered, making Jenna look at her curiously. "I know this isn’t a good time, but I’m really sorry for making your life a living hell."

"Save your apologies for when you manage to get us out of here, Laird," Jenna replied, brushing snow off her pants.

The Californian’s tempestuous brown eyes followed her to a dirt road that led to the campsite where Emma and the other counselors were. The wavy-haired girl followed Jenna to the camp, greeted by some insults and a less-than-pleased expression from the blue-eyed counselor.

"Try not to get killed by the principal," the Lady muttered, making Jenna shiver again.

The heated blankets made Jenna sigh heavily, though the girl beside her seemed somewhat detached. They both walked quickly to the car that would take them back to the Gregorstoun building.

A two-week suspension was now on Jenna’s spotless record, and she couldn’t be more stressed. That damn blue-eyed girl had messed everything up again, even after promising not to drag her into more trouble.

Jenna’s sharp glare was fixed on the back of the princess’s head. The blonde let out a quiet sigh, filling her lungs with air she didn’t even realize she was holding.

“How long are you gonna hate me, Ortega? I swear I’m trying not to lose it with how cold you’re being!” she complained, crossing her arms.

The pink flush on her pale skin was enough for Jenna to know she was seriously pissed. Jenna just nodded while the blonde kept talking, her reddish lips forming that stupidly charming smile. The way her lips moved up and down when she thought Jenna wasn’t watching... it was driving her crazy.

Jenna felt her throat dry up, and her hands started sweating even in the freezing cold. Those blue eyes were like a storm, hazy and intense, and they were making it impossible to focus.

“Kiss her already, you idiot. Do you think she’s just gonna magically realize how you feel?” Emma’s voice echoed in Jenna’s head as the blonde paced back and forth.

“Can you stop pacing, Laird?” Jenna snapped, watching her scowl. “Just sit down on the bed for like two minutes.”

“You’re so bossy, Ortega,” Laird muttered, crossing her arms.

“And you’re such an idiot who always screws things up,” Jenna shot back. “Just shut up for once, okay?” she added, stepping closer until there were just a few inches between them. “Last night made me realize some stuff I’d been ignoring. And unfortunately, when you apologized in that stupid frozen lake, it hit me—I’m totally in love with you.”

Your throat tightened, and for a second, everything went dark before your eyes focused back on her. She had to be joking, right?

“Don’t joke about this, please,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

“Laird, look at me,” Jenna said softly, cupping your cheek. “I’d never joke about something like this. Especially not about you.”

In a delicate motion, their bodies met, and their lips collided in a passionate kiss, filled with need and discovery. Y/n slid her hand along, Jenna's neck, savoring the softness of the girl's skin as their lips moved in perfect harmony. The princess's heart felt like it was about to burst from her chest, each beat echoing through the room.

Jenna's fingers gripped the princess's waist, making the blonde let out a soft sigh between the kiss, instinctively pulling her closer.

Y/n tried to control the kiss, but Jenna seemed determined to show her that she couldn't always have things her away. Jenna's firm hands kept the blonde in place as she explored every sensation of that moment — every sigh, every touch, every shiver. It was as if the world had disappeared, leaving just the two of them own bubble.

With a shaky breath, Y/n pulled back, her lips slightly parted, releasing small gasps or air.

"Enjoy the moment, Laird. I’m not going to hurt you like that idiot did," Jenna murmured, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

"I know you won’t," you replied, leaning in to kiss the brunette again.

After all, going to a school for royals hadn’t been all that bad.

[navybrat817]

I’m just gonna drop a little gift here…

LOOK AT HIM SO FUCKING GORGEOUS AND HOT AND 😩😩😩😩😩

Ok love you byeeeee✌🏻

LOOK AT HIM. I say nothing is perfect and then he comes along. And are we getting a glimpse inside of Smartie's mind?

Daddy? Sorry.

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 760 Warnings: Discussion of Bucky being d-addy. Hehe.

A/N: Stud and Smartie nonsense. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

"You know what I don't get? The 'Daddy? Sorry.' thing," you told Natasha as you waited for Bucky to join you at the cafe for lunch. It was a beautiful day to sit outside. "Is it bad that I don't get it?"

"Not bad," Natasha replied, cocking an eyebrow at you and not questioning the out of the blue topic. "But what exactly are you not getting?"

"I guess calling a guy 'Daddy'," you shrugged, adding air quotes for good measure. "I've never done it."

"So, you haven't called Bucky 'Daddy'?" she smirked.

“No, I haven’t. I just said I haven’t called anyone that,” you said, holding your chin high when her expression didn’t change.

If there was one thing you appreciated about Natasha, she never made you feel dumb or embarrassed for any candid discussions you had with her. Even when she teased you, it was all in good fun. Bucky liked that the two of you became friends, though he preferred to be your main confidant. You felt the same way about him.

“But he isn’t just anyone.”

“I know,” you smiled, glancing around to see if he arrived yet. “He’s special.”

My future husband. I just know it.

“And you’re special to him, too. Can’t have Stud without Smartie,” the redhead said as you smiled more. It was nice to hear that. “Okay. In your mind, how would you describe a Daddy?”

You snorted a bit because you couldn’t believe this was where the conversation went. Well, you brought it up. You should’ve known your friend would ask questions. She did have a way of getting people to talk.

“Besides handsome?” you asked, getting a nod in agreement. You had to think about it before you continued. “I guess someone protective and maybe a bit dominant? Not in a controlling way, but in a ‘I want to take care of you’ kind of way.”

Bucky was the most protective person you knew. It wasn’t just physically standing up for you if he felt the need to step in and defend you. He cared about your mental well-being and feelings. And while he didn’t mind you taking the lead, he was very much the more dominant of the two of you. No matter what, you knew you were his number one priority in and out of bed.

“Go on,” she urged, taking a sip as she kept her neutral gaze on you.

A small smile touched your lips as you adjusted the hoodie you were wearing. It was Bucky’s, of course. “And I guess it can be playful and affectionate, like I want to tease him. Can you imagine if I called him that in front of everyone?” you asked, giggling as you pictured a couple of expressions he might give you from hearing the nickname. “But it’s also vulnerable, in a way, because it might sound awkward if I say it and he may not like it. What matters is that I trusted him enough to say it though and he might like it.”

I trust him to tell me the truth.

“Why do you think he’d like it?”

You looked at her without an ounce of shame. “Because it's that extra bit of assurance that I’m his.”

But it also says he’s mine, right?

Natasha gave you a rare wide smile. “Sounds like you understand it just fine.”

As if he sensed the two of you were discussing him, Bucky came into view. If your friend heard you whimper, she kindly didn’t call you out on it. Maybe she was used to you gazing at Bucky Barnes like he was a work of art that you had the privilege to touch.

Your brain tried to tell your eyes to quit looking at him like a creep, but you didn’t blink. You just stared at your man and tried not to drool as you took in his tight blue sweater and pulled back hair. His stance and size screamed “power” and you suddenly wished he’d bend you over the table and take you right there. There was also a softness about him that made you want to burrow in his arms and never leave.

Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. OH. I fucking get it now. Is this a new kink unlocked? Wait, is it a kink?

“Call him ‘Daddy’ and I’ll pay for lunch,” Natasha offered as Bucky spotted you both and headed to the table.

“That’s a conversation for Daddy and I to have first,” you joked.

And knowing Bucky, he’d be happy with whatever you called him.

How do we think he'd react? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

[aek1ra]

Paris | Mark Lee

Pairing boyfriend!mark x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Mark, gets the offer of a lifetime but it means moving to Paris. Is this the start of a new future in a new city or where a great romance goes to die in the city of love.

Genre: angst, no warnings I think. Giselle and the rest of the æspa members play a small role.

Word count: 2,458

All stories are the property of © aek1ra, please do not copy, repost or translate without my permission. Thank you for your cooperation.

Friday

“I can’t stay here and be single for you, you’re my best friend why can’t you just be happy for me” you whisper shout at her in the middle of the crowded streets of Manhattan. “I am happy for you, I just don’t want you to regret this decision in the future-” she takes a deep breath and continues “look all I’m saying is that you’ve given up a lot for this relationship and this is one more thing he’s asking you to give up. Moving to Paris isn’t your dream y/n you’re chasing after him.” 

You heard her loud and clear, in fact you knew exactly what she was talking about. As much as you hate to admit you had been thinking the same thing for weeks now but how could you let him go. He was the missing puzzle piece, no he was the image you’re left with after the puzzle is completed. You had everything a girl in her mid twenties could ask for, the apartment in your dream city, the expensive shoes, the dream job and the dream boy. or at least you thought. No, you did and besides you’re not giving up your dream you’re simply moving it across an ocean. Yes, they have nice apartments in Paris, expensive shoes and people read magazines everywhere. It would take some time to find a job and some friends but once you got settled things would be the same, right? 

“I heard you, now let's drop this conversation I already quit my job and besides we leave tomorrow” you retort, taking a sip of your coffee hoping the warm beverage will help the lies come out smoother. She doesn’t say anything for a moment in fact you forget she’s even there. 1 beat 2 beats. “You weren’t even going to say goodbye to us? You can quit your job, throw away your shoes, hell even your hopes and dreams for some boy, but are we, am I that disposable to you.” pause “Actually you know what never mind, forget I said anything. Have a nice life y/n” 

3 beats, 4 beats. And with that you were left in the silence again except this time she really was gone. 

You walk into your shared apartment anxiously toying with your keys, the previous conversation replaying in your mind. 

“Baby your home, can you help me with the-” he stops mid-sentence seeing the tears well up in your eyes. 

“Hey what’s wrong? Things didn’t go well with Aeri, I take it?” you nod finally letting the tears you’d been holding all night cascade down your face. Mark is quick to pull into his chest, one arm around your waist pulling you in close, rubbing circles on your back. “She hates me. I don’t know why she can’t see things from my point of view. Everyone but her is happy for us, she’s my best friend and her opinion means the world to me. I mean she was my best friend.” you say in between sobs. 

He continues to listen as you drone on about her not understanding your feelings under the soft glow of the fluorescent lights. 

You were going to tell them, you did plan on saying goodbye but everything happened so fast. Mark had gotten offered the deal of a lifetime last week and asked you to move with him. Although it was sudden you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And with the long list of things you had to get done before the move like; putting the apartment up for sale, handing in your notice at work, packing, passports, visas,  you simply forgot to deliver the good news to your family and friends. 

When you called your parents this morning they expressed their excitement seeing you going on this adventure, truthfully they were just happy you’re happy, they know just how much you and Mark love each other. The other girls, Jimin, Minjeong and Yizhuo were all happy for you even if you knew deep down they had the same reservations as Aeri. She was the only person who didn’t seem to understand, or the only one not cowardly enough to say it out loud. She’ll come around eventually, right? 

After 15 minutes of effectively soaking your boyfriend's t-shirt he breaks the silence “come on” he starts as he cups your face softly in his hands wiping the last of the tears away, “let's get you to bed, we still have a few things to do before our flight tomorrow”. And with that you let him lead you to the bedroom thoughts of your friendship pushed to the back of your mind as the excitement and slight anxiety takes over. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday morning, First day in Paris

Before you knew it you were in Paris, standing in the lobby of the infamous Ritz Carlton. The company had booked a 5 night stay for you both while the deal was being finalised. Mark went off to get your room key while you stood admiring the crystal chandelier hanging above you. It was mesmerising, dazzling, the main star, the sun, the other lights danced around. He was standing at the front desk a few steps away, the lights above him creating a spotlight on him. There he was, your crystal chandelier, your sun and you were his earth quietly, forever orbiting around him. 

“Hey” his voice snaps you out of your haze, “let’s head up stairs yeah” he takes your hand in his, the sound of hurried footsteps and soft giggles are all that's left as you both disappear into the elevator.

Ding!

You come to a stop on the top floor, the Imperial suite. The view up here was stunning. Breathtaking. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world, every morning you would be waking up to two of the most beautiful views, the Eiffel tower and your boyfriend. 

Thump. There it was, that feeling again, you had been feeling this pang in your heart, a sort of longing like something was missing. If you were being honest you had been feeling this since your talk with Aeri yesterday, more specifically after she left standing alone outside your apartment. 

The faint sound of a phone ringing pulls you out of your thoughts, you watch your boyfriend talk to someone on the phone, probably his manager. 

 “Right now?”

“No, that's fine I’ll be there. Can you give me 20 minutes? I'll shower and meet you at the studio.” he hangs up the phone making his way towards you. He stands in front of you staring in your eyes, “I’m so sorry I know we said we would spend the day together before I got too busy. But I promise you I’ll be back before 7, we’re still on for dinner right beautiful?” 

Mhm. You hum in response planting a quick peck on his lips “don’t worry about me I’ll go shopping for our date tonight.” 

To be quite honest you were upset it hadn’t even been 24 hours and he was already too busy for you. Who were you kidding, did you really think it would be different, Manhattan to Paris the only change was your address. Maybe he just had no more room in his life for you. No, it sounded urgent, probably something with the contract, a typo or something. You’re a big girl, you can spend the day alone in the hotel room, or better yet go out and buy yourself a new dress for dinner tonight. 

“Besides I think I’ll go out and check out the stores around the area” he gives you one last squeeze before letting go and making his way into the shower. 

Tshhh

The sound of the shower water interrupts the quiet of the room, wishing the water could just wash away all your worries.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saturday night  

Standing in front of the mirror admiring yourself in the strapless Versace dress you purchased earlier on. The sneaking suspicion that Mark wasn’t going to make it home starts to creep up on you. He was always doing that, making plans with you and cancelling at the last minute, sometimes not even showing up and forgetting to call. You know how important his work is to him and how crazy his schedule can get sometimes. At the start of your relationship he made a point to always let you know if he was going to be late, sending flowers on the days he misses a date. But as time went on the flowers and calls started to slow down eventually coming to a stop. I mean you knew he didn’t mean to, you didn’t need gifts to know that he never meant to forget you, he never meant to keep you waiting. 

The clock finally strikes seven and you’re sitting on the small couch at the end of the hallway, opposite the front door. Dazedly staring at the front door willing it to open, like a puppy waiting for its owner to return. Seven o’clock becomes eight, eight becomes nine, eventually it's Ten and you tire of waiting around so you decide to head to bed. 

It’s a quarter to Midnight when Mark returns, you spent the past thirty minutes tossing and turning, head full of questions, where could he be, was he alone, was he even thinking about you. He walks into the room, no he stumbles in knocking over a few perfume bottles that were on the dresser. You feign sleep, you're suddenly hit with the smell of alcohol. The bed dips next to you and soon enough you feel this lips on your cheeks, a quick bittersweet lingering kiss. The smell of alcohol is so overpowering you start to get dizzy. You feel a new emotion, not hurt, not disappointment, not hurt, but for the first time ever you were angry at him. While you were worried sick that he could’ve been somewhere out there lost in this foreign country where neither of you speak the language, or worse out dead in a ditch somewhere he was out drinking. Mark could be careless, inattentive, forgetful whatever you want to call it but never was he stupid. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monday morning 

The sun rose at 7 this morning, you hadn’t slept at all last night, thoughts of what your future would look like if you decided to live here with him. Mark starts to stir in his sleep, finally waking up. He wraps his  arms around your waist, pulling you towards his chest murmuring a quick  “good morning beautiful”. When you don’t respond he shifts slightly, lifting his head off the bed to get a good look at your face. 

“Baby, hey I’m sorry time just got away from me-” he starts, but you think it's pointless listening to the same speech you’ve heard all these nights before. Mark was the best boyfriend a girl could ask for, that is when he’s not too consumed by his work. You see for him everything else would always come second to his love for music, and maybe one day you would be strong enough to handle that truth. 

“Don’t worry about it. I forgot myself” you interrupt him before he can finish, “You have to get going, you’re going to be late for your important meeting.” you say albeit a bit too venomously for your liking, quickly sliding out of the bed and opting to sit by the window. 

“y/n” he starts but decides against it, instead deciding to give you your space. 

At 8:30am you hear the door to your room close signalling Mark has left for the day. You guys barely spoke to each other at breakfast, a silent dance of tension. Every few minutes you’d shoot him a soft smile in an attempt to show him you’re not mad, or in an attempt to lie to yourself. 

You had planned on going to see the cute cafes today while Mark was at his meeting, but after the events of last night you decide to stay in and wallow in self pity. Plus you have to console yourself before the dinner tonight with some music company executive that Mark kept droning on and on about on the flight over. You know this dinner is super important for his deal and no argument between the two will get in the way of that. So you swallow your hurt and anger, and decide to waste your time watching some random French drama. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monday night 

At exactly 7pm Mark walks int through the front door. Of course he’s always 

The happy couple, you walk hand in hand into the restaurant. Mark’s manager greets you guys at the door, ushering you both to join the rest of the party inside.

 “Mark, I want you to meet Mr. Devon” his manager announces pushing Mark towards the older gentlemen. 

As he let go of your hand for what felt like the millionth time, your picture perfect dream was starting to crumble all around you. All the painful memories, all the nights he left you waiting around for him, all the times he put his work, friends, colleagues before you, all the broken promises and forgotten dates.. Yes, forgotten, like you had forgotten your friends like they were something to check off a to-do list. But at the end of the day, you couldn’t blame him, not really, no. Mark, he was only chasing after what was important to him, and that wasn’t you, not anymore.

With your head hung low, you quietly make your way to your seat. 

Once Mark is done making the rounds saying his hellos, he takes his seat next to you, intertwining his fingers with yours. And as you stare aimlessly down at your interlocked fingers, you catch a glimpse of the classouses on his hands from hours and hours of strumming his guitar mindlessly while writing lyrics. It then becomes painfully obvious to you, you don’t belong here, at least not with him, not now, it was time for you to let go, let him run as fast and far as he can, chasing after his dreams. Slowly removing your hand from his you plant a soft kiss on his cheek letting your lips linger for a second before you whisper your last words of the night to him  “I love you, I’m sorry for doing this to you tonight but I wish you the best Mark”. You walk out of the restaurant refusing to look back, too afraid that one look into his beautiful tear filled irises would make you crumble on the spot. 

Au revoir mon amour, if the universe wills it surely we’ll meet again. 

(Note: Hi 👋🏽 if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading for first ever fic. I started writing this based on Carrie & Miranda’s argument and then just let the story take me where ever. I’m thinking of maybe giving it a part 2, what do you think?)

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories /four/ Azriel x reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

A/N: We're getting closer to her returning to the IC and I'm so happy about that. I also had a lot of fun writing this part, so I hope you enjoy!

Part One Part Two Part Three

The following days were much the same, watching from a distance as Tamlin worked hard to woo the young Feyre. Your eyes rolled every time he tried to complement her. She didn’t belong here. Just like you didn’t belong here. She was too much of a dreamer to become a High Lord’s wife, or little play thing. Too much of a dreamer to be held down by his endless rules and customs. 

She deserved so much more. You deserved more. 

Imagines of wings and starlight fill your head every time you close your eyes. You could see all of them, laughing at The House of Wind over dinner, having a grand time without you. They moved on, you know they had. But you couldn’t move on from them, no matter how hard you tried. You yearned for them. 

You yearned for Cassian and his brutish humor, the kind that always got him in trouble with your mother, but always made you laugh harder than you should. You yearned for Morrigan and her never ending support when your father was being particularly dastardly. And Azriel….oh how you longed for him. The gentle touches of his shadows, the shy smiles, and rare bouts of laughter. Besides your brother, you missed Azriel most of all. 

He was your Az, and yet you had no claim to him. But he seemed to understand that you belonged to one another. Maybe that’s why you made the promises you did. 

Where you go I go, but whatever we do we do it together. 

You made that promise before you flew for the first time. You were too afraid to fly as a child, but when Azriel came along and had to learn so late in life….well you got over your fear for him. You grasped his scarred hand in your tiny one and led him to the edge of the House of Wind. Why they decided that was the best place to learn to fly, you’ll never quite understand. 

But it was then that you looked up at him, tears in your eyes due to fear, that you spoke, “Where you go I go.”

He nodded slowly, hair blowing in the wind, “But we do it together.”

“Together,” You agreed, holding his hand tighter. 

And together you leapt from the ledge and let the wind take hold of your wings. Together you wobbled, but still stayed afloat. Together you figured it out, never once letting go of the other. And when you landed back on the roof, you held him so tightly as he laughed. And it was then that you decided that was the most beautiful sound you ever heard. It was then that you decided you would do anything to hear that laugh and see that smile as much as possible. 

And it was then that he decided he would always protect you, because you were his just as much as he was yours. 

“He’s sending her back,” Lucien’s voice drew you from your thoughts. 

“He’s what?”

“Your brother came,” Lucien says, face pale, “Took her mind, threatened to crush it. It isn’t safe for her here anymore, time is almost up. So Tam is sending her back.”

“He’s a damned fool,” you hiss, “She’s in love with him, it’s plain as day to see! All he has to do is get her to admit it, but he can’t do that, can he? He’s giving up, all because my brother decided to come and scare him?”

“You weren’t there.”

“No, I wasn’t, but when does the brutality of the Night Court surprise Tamlin?” You question, “He’s seen it first hand, he knows what we’ll do to him. Why do you think he keeps me full of Faebane? Huh?” 

“Y/N-”

“He knows I could shred all of your minds so easily,” You nearly laugh, “I could make Rhys look like child’s play if I really wanted to. You think he is vile and violent? See what happens when I have all of my powers, Lucien. There’ll be nothing left to bury. I could raze the Spring Court to the ground and not feel a thing about it.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I’m a prisoner here, don’t think that I wouldn’t take the first chance to escape,” You shake your head, “No matter who I have to kill. I might still be a child compared to the rest of you but I’m a child of the Night. Brutality is in my blood.” 

“You aren’t like them-”

“Oh? Am I not? Just because I’ve been docile so far doesn’t mean it isn’t inside of me. I am a wolf in sheep's clothing. I always have been, dear Lucien. I am the most dangerous person in this manor, and he’s a fool to forget it.”

His face contorts into something that you aren’t quite able to read. Pride wells in your chest knowing you’re doing your job. You want to feel sick about it, want to feel sick about the role you’re playing. But if it brings you one step closer to your brother then you can’t bring yourself to feel bad about it. All you want is to go home again. You just want Rhys to hold you and tell you everything is going to be alright again. 

“Tamlin deserves what's coming to him,” you hiss, “You all do.”

“You don’t mean that.” 

“Oh but I do. I hope Rhys enjoys breaking every single one of you. And if he doesn’t, I will,” You take a step closer to Lucien, “By the cauldron I promise you, I will break this court apart piece by piece and I will laugh as I do it. And I won’t stop until he’s the only one left standing, and all he has to claim is rubble.” 

It rises up in your chest, and you feel it escaping through your fingertips, the darkness you used to run from long ago. You smile at it, feeling it wrap up your arms and cascade down towards the floor. It took a lot of energy to conjure it. You would be exhausted afterwards. But it would be worth it. 

Lucien took a step back, and then another. Head shaking. You knew what you looked like. A vile smile on your face, darkness twirling all around you. You looked like your big brother. You felt the power flowing through your veins, what little you had left of it anyway. 

“Don’t underestimate me, Lucien.” 

Tamlin sent Feyre back to the human lands the following day. You watched from your window with a scowl on your face as the carriage took her away. Tamlin was giving up and damning all of you in the process. Amerantha would come for him soon enough, and then there would be nothing left for you but to run. 

Maybe you could make it to the Night Court, maybe you would be lucky. 

“Once she comes, you’re free,” Tamlin spoke over dinner that night. 

“Perhaps,” You do your best to sound bored. 

You had to control your heart, so you didn’t give away how scared you truly were. If she found you, you would be dead in an instant. Or maybe she’d use you as a toy to get Rhys to do her bidding some more. He was already her whore, but perhaps she wanted more. She wanted him on his knees for her. And even you knew that he bowed before no one but his court. 

“Maybe I’ll stay here, I’ve grown quite fond of this place.”

“Liar.” Lucien bites out. 

One look from you though and he stands down. What he doesn’t know is you slept for almost twelve hours after your little display earlier. It took everything you had, all of your energy and what power you had. But it was worth every second to see the look on Lucien’s face. To know that you were still able to scare him enough. 

“Something you add, Lucien?” You question, venom dripping from your words. 

His head shakes, swallowing deeply. It only makes you smirk. You were so close to going home, to any semblance of home. Maybe your brother wouldn’t be there, but you’d be free. The Court of Nightmares had to be better than living here. 

“You should hide,” Tamlin says slowly, “They’re coming.”

“Now?”

He only nods, and reaches for more wine. He seems too calm. But then again he’s already given up. He gave up the second he sent Feyre back across the wall to her family. You can’t help but scoff as you rise to your feet. You expected him to fight back, maybe even for Lucien to fight. But you didn’t expect them to just lay down and roll over and let Amerantha march her cronies in here and take everyone. 

“You’re a coward, Tamlin.”

“So you’ve been saying for hundreds of years.”

“You should have just killed me.”

“Heard that too.” 

Your eyes roll, “I hope you have fun as her dog.” 

“Enjoy your freedom, Y/N.” 

You scoff again, “You best hope I never get the chance to kill you, Tamlin. I won’t make it as quick as my brother made your family's death.” 

Tag List

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[morgana-ren]

Bit the bullet and did the power-hungry ending on my exploratory playthrough to get it over with. I always love my boy, but he does very much turn into a bastard. Wrote this very quickly as a quick exercise because I hated that I had no dialogue that felt right. Anyway, enjoy the trash. Nothing explicit happens but a lot of dubious, awful shit is implied so please read at your own risk. Spoilers, obviously.

“And of course, I couldn’t have accomplished all this without you, and one wicked turn deserves another,” His eyes flash crimson beneath his pale lashes, glowing ominously in the firelight. “So tell me, my love, what is it that you desire?” 

He expects her glossy elevator eyes and a seductive smile. For her to reach for him with her soft, little hands and pull him close, aching to feel him– to taste him in all of his newfound resplendent glory. To offer her neck in submission, pleading for him to change her, to become like him, to sit at his side eternally as he rules from his throne on high as his most beloved spawn. His first and most revered creature of the night. His queen.

But she doesn’t.

Her brows furrow, the corner of her lips tugging inward as she purses them. It’s not the reaction he was expecting, to say the least. He frowns as he inspects her expression, trying to suss out exactly what it is that plagues her. She looks worried– anxious, even. She pulls her gaze away from him, stepping back away from him ever so slightly, staring at the dirt for a moment before speaking. 

“I just wanted you to be happy, Astarion. You were always so afraid, so paranoid that something or someone was going to come for you in the night. I never wanted you to have to worry about that ever again.” “And now I don’t,” He arches a pale brow. “Isn’t this what you wanted, my love? We’ll never fear anything ever again.” He feels her uncertainty vibrate the air around him, a sense of unease that permeates through her pores. It is not love and adoration and undying loyalty that she offers, but trepidation. 

“I know. I know it’s everything you ever wanted, and I’m happy for you, but it just seems like–” “Just seems like what?” He cocks his head, narrowing his eyes at her. 

“It seems like it’s changed you somehow. You’re– you’re different,” She reaches a tender hand up to caress his cheek, and he fights the instinct to lean into her touch. 

“I am different,” He insists, his voice raising slightly. “Power beyond imagining. There has never been a vampire such as I am now. I feel it coursing through my veins, practically bursting at the seams with it–” That familiar habit crawls up his tongue, and he slips the words before he even thinks them over. “And we did it together. I’m untouchable now, and thus, so are you. It’s our world to take, darling. I love you. Isn’t that what you wanted so desperately?”

There’s a twinge of something he doesn’t quite recognize from her. Hurt, or perhaps… disappointment?

“Asto, I never wanted to strongarm or manipulate you into loving me. I care deeply for you, but that’s my burden to bear. I never wanted more from you than you wanted to give.” 

“Then what did you want?” His lips curl downward into a frown, and he closes the gap between them that she created, stepping close enough to her to have her shifting.

“I just–” She pauses, her words hanging heavy in the air and on her mind as she says them. “--I had hoped you would have let go after killing Cazador. Realized that you don’t need power everlasting to be happy. I guess I thought you would have learned something from all of this–”

“Learn what, exactly?” His tone shifts, his words pointed and cruel as he spits them out, fists furling at his sides. “You naive, silly little girl. You’ve no idea what it’s like– what the world is truly like. You dare to condemn me after what I’ve seen? You’d judge me for taking strength where I find it? Strength that I use to protect both of us? To save your pretty little neck from all those creatures who seek to spill your blood? You dare pretend to understand?

He feels it through the tadpole— The whip and lash of barbed grief against her heart, ripping through her chest like a fanged maw. It's enough to almost bring him to his knees, but if it wasn't for their bond, he wouldn't have the slightest idea. Her face hardens and she betrays nothing at all: a slow blink in his direction, emotionless face creaseless as porcelain, not a thing betrayed—

—Save her eyes. There's something in her eyes that tears at him. Panics him. He cannot place it but fear creeps up his spine, taking hold in his brain. Something disappears from them as he speaks and they glaze over, empty and melancholic. As if she is letting go. 

She shakes her head, the column of her throat twitching ever so slightly as she hard-swallows. "You're right. I— I don't. I'm sorry," She turns her eyes from him, and her expression hardens into something unreadable entirely. "I'll leave it then. I don’t want anything from you. Enjoy your power, Astarion.  You’ve– you’ve earned it." 

There is something unspoken in her words that batters at his brain, panicked and flapping about as a freshly caged bird. He prods at their connection and feels her recoil from him— feels her retreat into the recesses of her mind, severing their connection where she can, and blanking him out where she cannot. She is locking him out— and he realizes that it is perhaps for good. 

His lip curls as she turns from him without another word, walking away, abandoning the conversation— abandoning him. There's a flash of sanguine rage and a pulse of power not entirely his own yet and his hand extends of its own will, fingers grasping at her throat and drawing her again, nails digging into the same flesh he'd once caressed so tenderly. 

"Don't you walk away from me! Don't you ever turn your back on me again! Do you understand?"

Fear. That's what's in her eyes now. Not fear of him, but fear of what he has done. Of what she has allowed him to become. She searches him for a trace of the man she'd cared for, the man she shed blood for— both hers and countless others— to save. All she finds is a twisted mockery of it. The man she has helped him become— if a man is what you can call him. 

She has created a monster, and now he has turned his blood-red gaze on her. 

"Astarion—" 

He feels her pulse in his palm, rabbiting away in her ribs, the scent of her rushing blood palpable in his lungs. The very same scent as when she stares down a pack of howling gnolls or a murderous cultist with a knife to her belly. It is a scent that so often fades when he is near enough to her for comfort, but it is more powerful than ever as he bears down on her now. 

"That's not how this is going to work, darling," He hisses, yanking her so close he can see himself in the whites of her wide eyes. "You are never to walk away from me again. Am I clear?"

The force of her rage hits him, edged with red, raw disgust. Her lip twitches, eyes narrowing on him as the malaise of her mourning is devoured by a tidal wave of both her pride and her indignant anger. "I am not your servant. You do not command me." 

"Is that so? Isn't that what you wanted? Hmm? To lose yourself in me like you told me once upon a time? You wanted me to care for you– to love you– and I’ve told you that I do. You sought something from me and now you dare to turn your back on me?"

"I wanted to be with you! I cared about you! You're not some toy to be played with or some vessel for pleasure! I never wanted anything from you that you didn’t willingly give!" She stumbles over the words, shame seeping through her like a thick, viscous ink. "I didn't know what it meant. I didn't know what he had done to you—" 

"And it doesn't matter," He sneers, sharp eyes locked on hers. "You gave yourself to me that night, did you not? You saw me through everything standing at my side, cut down as many bodies as I, handed me the knife I used to carve Cazador's skin, gave me your eyes so that I might sign the contract that pledged my soul and countless others to the hells, and now you dare to pretend your hands are clean as you point a finger at me?" 

"I wanted you to feel safe! To never have to look over your shoulder in fear ever again! To never again have to sleep with one eye open like we do now, just waiting for the creatures that stalk the shadows to swoop down upon us! For the first time in your life, I wanted you to know for certain that you could kill anything that threatened you or your freedom! I never wanted to tear down Cazador's tyrannical throne only to place you upon it— but it seems that's exactly what I've done!" 

Something in his body snaps, and his reaction is a visceral, violent scarlet slash of fury. He squeezes her neck, baring ivory fanged teeth down on her as he would a prey. "Do not ever compare me to him!"

Her eyes are wide with fear– with disgust– as she croaks out the words from beneath his palm.

“Look at yourself, Astarion. Am I wrong?” 

He looks down at her, at the woman he claims to love as he chokes her and she suffocates on his power, her bruising throat flexing in strain beneath his steely fingertips. He can just barely make himself out in the dewy sheen of her eyes as they begin to water, and what stares back at him isn’t a man– it is a monster. 

Something in him shatters like glass, the last threads of his sanity slipping away through his fingertips. He is too far gone now to turn back, too lost in the red mist to find the light. 

But he will not wander it alone. He will never be alone again.

"I am whatever I say I am, and you are what I say you are, and you will do as I command. Your place is at my side, now and forever," He challenges her, fingers squeezing tighter on her throat as he breathes in the sweet, saccharine scent of her terror; the palpating, rocketing pulse of her thrumming heart. "And you will acquiesce to me. It’s not a request."

"Don't you dare presume to order me about like I'm your slave!" She claws at his wrist, trying to wrench free of his grip. “I never agreed to that!” 

“You don’t have to, my love,” He leans down further, pressing his forehead to hers. “Because I have decided for you.” 

“You do not get that right!” She snarls, baring her own teeth back at him. 

“Oh, but I do, darling. But I do. You don’t seem to grasp how this is going to work, so allow me to explain it to you.” 

He shoves her hard to the ground, releasing her throat only to leer over her from above, stepping on either side of her body. Her will is iron, but the flash of fear across her face is unmistakable. 

“You gave yourself to me, and I intend to keep what is mine. Your body is so fragile– so frail– You’d never survive without me, and I have no intentions of letting you go now that I have you. So you will stay by my side always. It’s what’s best for you, my little love, and you belong to me.”

“I don’t belong to anyone.” 

“Yes,” He says firmly, as if scolding a small child. “You do.” 

“I don’t have to obey you!” She hisses. 

“Not yet, perhaps.” 

Horror grips her and realization takes hold. “You wouldn’t, Astarion. You can’t do this–” 

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” He bends his knees, leaning down as he brushes the hair from her neck, thumb stroking tauntingly over her pulse point. “I wanted you to come willingly. I wanted you to ask for it, accept my gift of your own volition. But you’re a foolish, willful girl. You don’t know what’s good for you, do you? So I will show you.” 

“After everything? After everything you’ve been through? After everything we have been through?” Her voice breaks, and with it, her heart. Her strength slips away, and he can feel it swallow his senses in a wretched black void, sending him drowning him in her abyssal anguish– her betrayal at his hands– but he shoves it down and locks it away. Something he cannot place claws and tears at his own heart with a need so violent it almost sends him reeling, something begging him to stop, that this isn’t right– to her of all people– but he silences it. He will not lose her. He will not. 

Even if he must place a collar around her neck to keep her and keep her leash pulled taut.

And what she has to say about it is of little consequence. 

“This doesn’t have to hurt, my sweet girl,” He says softly, flicking his tongue over a fang. “But I know you like when it does.” 

“Astarion, please! I don’t want to have to hurt you–” He laughs, vicious and cruel, cackling like a hyena over carrion. “As if you could! I’m untouchable. The very power of the night bends to my commands, and so too shall you. Even your blood sings for me, eager and ready and willing. Begging for me,” He places his hand softly on her chest, just above her rips, feeling the gentle pump beneath. “You want this, even as you play coy. You want to belong to me. So I will give it to you what you desire.”

“Is that what you’re telling yourself?” A single silver tear slips down the gentle curve of her cheek. 

He blinks at her, and for a moment, he freezes upon seeing her tears and she can see a glimpse of him in there. Somewhere deep and far, screaming and thrashing and desperate against his own might, fighting a war against his very nature. He looks at her with the same eyes that revere her, crave her, love her– but above all, honor her. 

For a fleeting moment, he is the Astarion she loves. His lip trembles and quakes and the urge to hold her is overwhelming. To comfort her. To hold her close and keep her safe and protect her, to strike down all her fears with his bare hands. To love her. 

And yet he is the source of her pain. 

“Yes.” 

And then he is gone again. The light goes out and his eyes become inky black pits, nothing in them but her own miserable reflection as he leans down ever further, his warm breath against her neck as he teases her throat with a fang. 

“Give yourself to me, now and always,” He whispers, blasphemous and terrible as it runs a shiver down her spine. “By my side now and forever. It’s all ours, my love. Everything we lay eyes upon. We can have it all. Wealth, power– each other. Centuries upon centuries stretching into the endless horizon of eternity. I want it all, and I want to share it with you.”

She could raise a hand to him. She could try and fight him off with tooth and nail and flame. She could kick and crawl, scramble away back to the safety of camp. She could–

But she doesn’t. 

“I don’t want this, Astarion. A beloved slave is still a slave. A diamond collar is still a collar. A leash held by someone you love is still a leash. I love you, but you can’t force this. Please–” She exhorts, trying to swallow back a bout of fresh tears. “Please don’t do this. Not to me. Not to you.” 

He inhales raggedly, hand slipping up to her cheek to cup it, savoring her warmth one last time. 

“I have to. I won’t lose you. Not now, not ever. Not to age or blight or foolish notions. I cherish you, and I’d see you safe.” 

“A gilded cage is still a cage.” She closes her eyes, hand furled in his doublet. 

“And I will carry it with me. Always.”

[danothan]

yoshikage kira headcanon list:

1. his finger-chewing tendencies existed even before he could form memories, so his mother bought him baby mitts to knock the habit early. the lack of grip led him to slip and fall often, which gave kiramom quite the scare, but seeing as the mittens were a necessary evil, she took it upon herself to do for him what he couldn’t. read into that what you will.

1.2. by the time it was no longer an appropriate age for him to wear baby mittens, he was still indulging the habit like nothing had changed at all. i imagine it started off as mostly a habitual comfort early on, and developed into self-harm when he felt the need for control.

1.3. jumping off of izzy’s hc that he has a low pain tolerance, i think that the sensation of pain is very sobering to kira, hence the development from thumb-sucking to finger-chewing, as noted by f0r. as unbearable as pain is for him, i think it’s also grounding, esp in moments of anxiety. low pain threshold, low pain tolerance, but a high secret third thing (bad coping mechanisms).

2. this one isn’t canon compliant, but i like to think that kira’s nails don’t actually grow supernaturally fast and are more of a reflection of his state of mind. i think they def grow faster than the average person’s, but it’s a mix of genetics, routine nail care stimulating the growth, and perception bias. he only “notices” it when he’s aroused or stressed bc it’s harder to ignore, and let’s be honest, arousal and stress go hand-in-hand for the guy (ha. hand-in-hand).

3. kira doesn’t just hate body hair on women but also on himself, tho probably for different reasons (aesthetic vs sensory, respectively). this wasn’t much of an issue before taking on kosaku’s face seeing as he doesn’t grow much of it himself, but he would still shave all the same, and always smooth. this is evidenced by the fact that he reached for the blade razor rather than kosaku’s electric one (blades are known for a closer shave, while kosaku used an electric razor since “regular razors usually give you burns,” implying that he uses a guard which is a less close shave). living as kosaku was hell too since he had to shave more frequently and the stubble was a lot scratchier.

4. bouncing off of f0r’s selective hygiene hc, his idea of cleanliness is very contradictory and more aligned w perceived contamination than actual germs. may i remind you of when he licked blood off of his hands during the fight w shigechi as to not stain his clothes. granted, it was his own blood, but considering his self-report abt masturbating, i wouldn’t say it’s far fetched to believe he’s not all that concerned abt washing his own hands.

4.1. speaking of self-report masturbation habits, kira believes himself to be above masturbation despite probably being a virgin, but the difference between him and those “sweaty unwashed guys” is that he never uses his own hand anymore. 😥

5. kira is attentive to detail but only to the extent that he’s aware. he has an appreciation for specific types of hands, but it’s all very superficial. for example, he’ll paint some nails pretty, but he wouldn’t think to push back the cuticles. like what is this:

right over the cuticle… you know that polish is chipping, and he’s sucking it right down 😭

6. kira uses this exact cologne:

6.1. i appreciate that his cologne is unisex since he prob wants a feminine scent for his gfs but nothing so flagrantly womanly that it reflects poorly on him, which leads me to believe that he never went out of his way to buy nail polish (suspicious for a man!) but instead stole it from one of his victims, perhaps if she was carrying it in her purse.

7. he’s a serial killer dater, but he’s no cheater. he might be looking at other hands while he’s in a “relationship,” but at least he’s monogamous abt it; he’ll break up w his current gf before moving on! i mean, why not just take both hands? simple, he can only handle one lady at a time 😌

8. he’s a stickler for routine, and this applies to his diet. these are 2 separate breakfasts he made from eps 1 & 21:

the exact same, even down to the placement of each dish and utensil. maybe he adds a little measured variety in his lunch and dinner choices, but i’d like to think this is how he makes breakfast every morning, and he never gets sick of it. shinobu occasionally cooking up dif breakfasts for him was probably a shock to the system.

8.1. if he was cooking in someone else’s house and they didn’t have a butter knife or, god forbid, had orange juice w PULP, he’d genuinely get offended. no decorum or taste whatsoever, tsk tsk. it’s a good thing he’s there to “set her soul right.”

8.2. maybe further down the line in the kawajiri household, shinobu would’ve commented on his repetitive breakfast choices, and he’d have to force himself to make an omelette or smth to appease her wildly sporadic (normal) appetite. maybe she’d learn how to make breakfast the way he usually does, just to show that she cares ☺️ but unfortunately she overcooked the eggs, and the knife is in the butter the wrong way, and the toast errs on the side of burnt, and… well, no matter. he’s more than okay being the cook every morning from now on.

9. kosaku styles his hair flat and slick, but kira has no experience w the heavy duty gel that he uses, so it ended up in spikes so he could keep his signature little noodle bangs. old habits die hard.

and seeing as how shinobu made no comment on kira’s hair turning white, i’m gonna add a bonus kosaku hc that he’s always changing up his hair in some kind of early mid-life crisis. (“there goes my stupid insecure husband doing his hair differently again, as if that’ll change the fact that he’s already graying. 😒”)

10. rounding us off w my handcanons from a while back, kira’s hands aren’t smth he cares to keep prim and pretty the way he would for someone else’s, but he does have his own routine that puts them above average. although he picks at them during bouts of stress, they tend to heal quickly, as hands do (aided by his saliva bc you know even if he wasn’t chewing on them, he’s sucking on his thumb after peeling the hangnails). the lack of scarring all his life enabled his bad habits, only tempered by the impoliteness of it drilled into his mind as a child.

[cool-fancier]

Bound by Arrangement

Kim Jisoo x Fem Reader

Synopsis: A marriage of convenience binds a cold CEO to a resilient baker. Amid tension, longing, and unspoken desires, they discover passion neither ever expected.

Word count:4.3K

The bakery was more than a business to you—it was home. Nestled in a cozy, sunlit street in Seoul, its warm ambiance was a reflection of your life. You’d opened it with Rosé and Lisa, your two best friends since university. The three of you were inseparable, and every morning started the same: you’d unlock the doors, Rosé would roll out the fresh dough with her usual pep, and Lisa would craft intricate decorations for the day’s selection of pastries. Together, you had created a place that people loved, a neighborhood gem, where regulars knew you by name and new customers always left with a smile.

And in this little corner of the world, you were content. Life had a gentle rhythm—flour-dusted mornings, bustling afternoons, and quiet evenings spent laughing with Rosé and Lisa as you closed shop. Your mother worked at Kim Corporation, a powerful conglomerate in Korea, and she always joked that your bakery was her favorite place to relax after a long day of corporate stress. She admired your independence, and you liked to think that maybe, in a small way, you were rebelling against the grand life she’d always imagined for you. You didn’t need the grandeur or complexity of her world; you had everything you wanted right here.

But every so often, in the quiet moments of dusk, your thoughts would drift to what your friends talked about during breaks—rumors of Kim Jisoo, the infamous CEO of Kim Corporation and your mom’s boss’s daughter. They would share the latest gossip about her escapades, whispering about her latest conquests or who she was seen with at the newest exclusive club. Jisoo was like a character out of a novel to you, this enigmatic figure who lived in a world you’d never be a part of. Lisa’s eyes would light up with scandalous stories, and Rosé would give a dramatic sigh, calling Jisoo the “heartbreaker CEO,” and laugh at how Jisoo always seemed to have a new name in her dating roster. But to you, Jisoo was just a name, an echo of a world far removed from your own.

— — — — —

The bell above the bakery door chimed one evening as you were wiping down the counter, and you looked up, surprised to see your mother standing there. Her expression was serious, her hands clasped tightly together, as if she were bracing herself for something difficult.

You set your rag down, walking over to her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Mom? Is everything okay?"

She hesitated, glancing around at the familiar surroundings of the bakery before she met your gaze. "We need to talk," she said quietly. "It’s… about the Kim family."

Your stomach dropped. The way she said it, the tension in her face—this wasn’t a casual conversation.

Taking her arm, you led her to a table, and she sat down with a deep sigh, her eyes heavy with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

“Is something wrong at work?” you asked carefully.

“No, not exactly,” she replied, though the words felt like a half-truth. She took a breath, her fingers curling around the edge of the table. “The Kim family… they’re under a lot of pressure right now, politically and financially. They’re concerned about stability, and they think a marriage… might help.”

A chill went down your spine. “A marriage? Mom, what does that have to do with me?”

She winced, as though the words hurt to say. “They want you to marry Jisoo.”

The words hung heavy in the air, surreal and impossible, and yet, in that moment, you could see in her eyes that this was real. You were being asked to marry Kim Jisoo, a stranger whose life barely intersected with yours beyond your mother’s job, a woman you only knew through whispers and tabloid stories.

“No, Mom, this isn’t right,” you said, shaking your head. “We don’t live in that world. I don’t know her, and she certainly doesn’t know me.”

“I know,” she whispered, reaching across the table to take your hand. “But… sometimes, in our world, things are more complicated. You know how much I’ve sacrificed to give you the life you have, and I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it weren’t important.”

You felt a rush of conflicting emotions—anger, disbelief, betrayal. “Mom, I’m not some pawn. I’ve built my life here. I have friends, a business. I don’t want to just be… some accessory in someone else’s life.”

She nodded, her gaze dropping. “I know. But I also know that this is a rare chance, an opportunity to protect our family. To help them secure their future, and ours. It’s not fair to ask this of you, but…”

She left the words unspoken, and the weight of her request lingered between you, pressing down like a heavy stone.

— — — — —

The days leading up to the wedding felt like a blur, filled with quiet arguments, moments of doubt, and the comforting voices of Rosé and Lisa, who were both baffled and furious at the situation. Rosé had tried to find a silver lining, reminding you that you were resilient, that you could handle this. But even she had her limits, and Lisa’s anger was tangible, simmering just beneath the surface.

“It’s ridiculous,” Lisa had said one night, slamming her fist on the counter. “You don’t even know her, and from what we do know, she’s not… she’s not someone you deserve to be pushed into a marriage with. She’s out there at clubs, living her life like she doesn’t have a care in the world. You deserve better.”

You could only nod, a lump in your throat as you tried to push away the fear and uncertainty that had become a constant presence in your mind.

When the wedding day arrived, it felt almost like a transaction. The venue was grand, filled with people you didn’t know, and Jisoo herself barely looked at you, her face an unreadable mask as you exchanged vows. She was beautiful, undeniably, but there was a coldness to her that made the whole experience feel distant, unreal. You repeated the words, feeling like a stranger in your own life, and before you knew it, you were married to a woman who seemed as indifferent to you as she was to everything else.

—————

The days after the wedding were quiet, almost painfully so. You moved into the penthouse Jisoo had prepared, a place so immaculate and perfectly curated that it felt more like a magazine spread than a home. She was rarely there, and when she was, she was polite but distant, slipping in and out of the penthouse like a ghost.

You tried to keep yourself busy, spending most of your time at the bakery, throwing yourself into work to avoid the loneliness that had started to creep in. Rosé and Lisa were your anchors, their presence a reminder of the life you still had, the life you wanted to hold onto. But no matter how hard you tried, the reality of your situation lingered in the background, a constant, inescapable reminder.

Every so often, you would see the tabloids, the pictures of Jisoo out at clubs, her arm around someone new, her face as calm and controlled as ever. She was still the woman you’d heard about, the heartbreaker CEO, and you were just the person she was married to, an afterthought in the grand scheme of her life.

One night, you found yourself alone in the penthouse, the silence pressing in from every side. You tried to distract yourself, but the loneliness gnawed at you, sharper and deeper than you’d expected. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, this painful. You were supposed to be strong, to brush this off as a business arrangement, a necessary step for your family.

Unable to bear it any longer, you picked up your phone and called Rosé, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

“I didn’t think it would feel like this,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a murmur. “I thought I could keep my distance, that I wouldn’t care. But every night, she’s out there with someone else, and I’m… I’m alone here, wondering if this is all I am now.”

On the other end of the line, Rosé’s voice was gentle, soothing. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could be there with you.”

You let out a shaky breath, the vulnerability catching you off guard. “I don’t even know her, Rosé. I feel like a ghost in my own life. And the worst part is… I think I’m starting to care, even though I don’t want to.”

You didn’t notice the sound of the door until it was too late. You froze, turning slowly to see Jisoo standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable as she took in your words, your pain laid bare in the quiet of the penthouse. You quickly hung up, the silence stretching between you and Jisoo, heavy and charged.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then, finally, Jisoo stepped forward, her face softening just slightly, an almost hesitant look in her eyes. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, a hint of regret flickering across her features.

“I didn’t know…” she began, her voice quieter than you’d ever heard it.

You looked away, trying to regain your composure. “What does it matter? This is just… business, isn’t it? That’s what this marriage is supposed to be, after all.”

Her expression shifted, something almost vulnerable beneath the carefully maintained facade. She looked down, as if searching for words. “I never thought about it like that. I never thought you would… care.”

You felt a mix of anger and something else, something painful and raw. “Of course, I didn’t want to care. But I’m here, waiting every night, wondering if you’ll ever see me as anything more than just an obligation.”

She hesitated, a flash of something unspoken in her gaze. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think I’d ever have to consider what you felt. I thought it would be easier this way.”

The words hung between you, an uneasy truce, a moment of honesty neither of you had expected. And for the first time, you saw a glimmer of something beyond the cold mask Jisoo wore—a hint of the person beneath, someone who might, just maybe, be as lost as you were.

For a long moment, silence filled the penthouse. You stood across from Jisoo, the tension thick, your emotions raw and exposed. You felt vulnerable, as if she could see right through to the frustration, the loneliness, and the longing that had built up inside you. And yet, for the first time, she wasn’t turning away. She was watching you, her cool mask softened by something unguarded, something almost fragile.

Finally, she broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know I’ve… avoided you,” she said slowly, as if the admission itself were painful. “And I know I haven’t been fair.”

You scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping before you could stop it. “That’s one way to put it.”

Jisoo’s jaw clenched, and she looked away, her gaze fixating on the polished floor. “This life… this arrangement… it wasn’t my choice, either.”

“Maybe not,” you replied, unable to hide the hurt in your voice. “But you’ve made it very clear that you’re not interested in being here. You’re always out, and when you’re here, it’s like I don’t exist. Do you know how that feels?”

A flicker of guilt crossed her face, and she met your gaze, holding it for once, not retreating into her usual guarded distance. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” she murmured, a hint of sincerity breaking through. “But I didn’t know how to do this. I’ve spent my whole life focusing on work, on keeping up the image, on being who everyone needs me to be. I thought keeping my distance was the right thing to do.”

You looked at her, studying the lines of tension in her expression, the slight tremor in her voice. It was the first time she seemed… human, vulnerable. Beneath her cold exterior, you could sense something genuine, a glimpse of the person she was behind the headlines and the walls she’d built around herself.

“Maybe we both don’t know how to do this,” you said quietly, the anger ebbing away, replaced by something softer, something tentative.

Jisoo gave a small nod, as though acknowledging the shared confusion between you. “I think… I’d like to try,” she said finally, her words tentative, cautious. “If you’d be willing. To try.”

Her words hung in the air, and you felt your heartbeat quicken. It would have been easy to dismiss her, to retreat into your own hurt. But as you looked at her, at the woman who had been a stranger in every sense, you realized that, for the first time, she was offering you a part of herself—a real part, unguarded and uncertain.

You took a slow breath, allowing yourself to feel the weight of her words. “Alright,” you said softly. “But if we’re going to do this… I want honesty. No more walls. No more pretending.”

Jisoo nodded, a glint of determination in her gaze. “I promise. I’m done with pretending.”

— — — — —

The days that followed were different, like the first tentative steps in an unfamiliar dance. Jisoo was still reserved, careful with her words, but she made an effort. She’d started coming home earlier, joining you for dinner in the vast, empty dining room that had always felt more like a museum than a home. She would sit across from you, awkward at first, the silence between you heavy but no longer painful.

One evening, as you were finishing a quiet dinner, she surprised you by suggesting a walk. You looked at her, a bit taken aback, but she just shrugged, looking almost shy. “I thought… maybe it would be nice to go out. Just the two of us.”

You agreed, and soon the two of you were strolling through a quiet park under the soft glow of streetlights. The conversation was hesitant at first, both of you stumbling over words, unsure of what to share, what boundaries to test. But gradually, the tension began to melt away, replaced by an ease that surprised you both. She shared little details about her childhood, moments that broke the polished image she’d always presented to the world.

“I always wanted to run away,” she admitted, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Find some place where no one knew who I was, where I could just… be.”

You chuckled, finding it strangely endearing. “If you ever want a place to hide out, the bakery has a pretty good selection of hiding spots behind the display cases.”

She laughed—a soft, genuine sound that made something warm bloom in your chest. For the first time, you saw her not as the cold, distant CEO, but as someone who had been trapped in her own life, just as you had been trapped in this arrangement.

— — — — —

Slowly, your guarded interactions turned into small shared moments. She began joining you in the evenings, sometimes sitting on the couch with you in comfortable silence, other times talking about everything from her favorite films to the pressures of her job. The more time you spent together, the more you realized that beneath her aloofness was someone who had learned to be strong, but had also been forced to be alone. She had a sharp wit, a hidden warmth that she seemed almost afraid to let out, and with each passing day, you found yourself drawn to her in a way you hadn’t expected.

One evening, after a long day at the bakery, you invited her to join you there. She arrived after closing, looking slightly out of place among the simple charm of the shop, but there was a softness in her eyes as she took in the surroundings, her usual guarded demeanor replaced by something almost reverent.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” she murmured, her fingers brushing over a display case. “It feels… peaceful.”

“It is,” you replied, watching her carefully as she explored the space. “It’s my favorite place in the world.”

Jisoo turned to you, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

The words were simple, but they carried a weight that made your heart ache, a reminder of how much she had kept from the world. And in that moment, you realized that your feelings for her had grown into something real, something you could no longer ignore.

— — — — —

One evening, she suggested a date—an actual, real date, and you agreed, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nerves. You met her in a quiet park, and under the dim light of lanterns, you walked together, talking, laughing, and letting the walls between you dissolve.

Under the soft glow of the park lights, your gaze met Jisoo’s, the world fading until it was just the two of you, wrapped in a silence that felt both fragile and electric. Her hand, tentative at first, reached for yours, her touch delicate, her fingers curling around yours as if she feared you might pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you held on, feeling the warmth of her palm, the way her skin felt against yours.

“Jisoo,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper.

She looked at you, her expression softening, her usual guarded exterior giving way to a vulnerability that took your breath away. “I… didn’t know it could feel like this,” she admitted, her voice breaking the silence, filling the space between you with something raw and honest. “Being with you… it feels different. Real.”

The words, simple yet filled with so much emotion, sent a thrill through you. You leaned closer, drawn to her, the intensity between you growing with every heartbeat. Before you knew it, her lips were on yours, soft and warm, a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened, a hungry urgency taking over. Her hand found the back of your neck, pulling you closer as her lips moved against yours, each touch sending shivers down your spine.

You pulled back, breathless, and a small, teasing smile played on your lips. “Maybe we should take this somewhere a little more private.”

Jisoo nodded, a slight blush coloring her cheeks, her gaze filled with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. You took her hand, guiding her back to the car, the air thick with tension, every glance, every brush of skin heightening the anticipation between you.

The drive home was silent but charged, your hand resting firmly on her thigh, feeling the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her dress. She shifted slightly under your touch, her breath hitching as your fingers moved, grazing higher, just enough to tease. She looked over at you, her eyes darkening with desire, a silent plea that made you want her even more.

As soon as the door shut, you pushed Jisoo against it, your hands gripping her waist as your lips claimed hers in a heated, demanding kiss. Her gasp was muffled against your mouth, her body pressing into yours as you took control, the softness of her lips giving way to the dominance of your movements. You didn’t hesitate, pinning her against the door with your hips as your hands roamed her body, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath the thin fabric of her dress.

Her breath hitched as your tongue slid against hers, and she clung to you, her fingers curling into your shirt. You broke the kiss briefly, leaning back just enough to take in the sight of her—her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes dark with desire. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” you murmured, your voice low, tinged with a rough edge as your hands slid down to her thighs, gripping firmly.

Jisoo whimpered softly, her body shuddering under your touch. “Then don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need.

You growled low in your throat, lifting her effortlessly as her legs wrapped around your waist. Her hands tangled in your hair, tugging lightly, her lips finding yours again as you carried her to the bedroom. By the time you laid her on the bed, she was already breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she looked up at you, completely at your mercy.

You climbed over her, capturing her lips in another bruising kiss as your hands slid up her thighs, pushing her dress higher. Her soft moans spurred you on, and you broke the kiss to trail your lips along her jawline, down her neck, your teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her shiver.

“God, you sound so good,” you murmured, your voice husky as you nipped at the sensitive spot on her neck, leaving a faint mark. “I want to hear more.”

Jisoo whimpered, her hands clutching at your back as she arched into your touch. “I—ah—please,” she gasped, her voice breaking as your hands gripped her waist, pinning her firmly to the bed.

You leaned back just enough to tug her dress up and over her head, tossing it aside as your eyes raked over her. Her body trembled under your gaze, her breath catching as you took your time, letting her feel the weight of your attention. “You’re beautiful,” you said, your voice softer now, though still laced with a possessive edge.

Jisoo flushed, her hands instinctively moving to cover herself, but you caught her wrists, pinning them above her head as you leaned down to whisper against her lips, “Don’t hide from me. I want to see all of you.”

She nodded, her breath hitching, and you rewarded her obedience with a deep kiss, your free hand trailing down her body, mapping out every curve. Her soft cries grew louder as your touch became firmer, more deliberate, your lips following the path of your hands, tasting the skin you revealed.

When you reached her chest, you took your time, your tongue circling one hardened peak before taking it into your mouth, sucking just hard enough to make her back arch. Her moan was loud and unrestrained, her fingers twisting in the sheets as you gave the same attention to her other breast, alternating between gentle flicks of your tongue and sharp grazes of your teeth.

“Does that feel good?” you asked, your voice rough as you bit down gently, earning a strangled cry from her.

“Yes,” she gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily against you. “Please… don’t stop.”

You grinned, your hands sliding lower, gripping her hips to still her movements. “I’m not stopping until you’re begging for more,” you growled, your tone dark and commanding.

Her body trembled as your hands moved to part her thighs, spreading her open for you. You leaned down, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh, savoring the way she shuddered under your touch. “You’re so sensitive,” you murmured, your breath hot against her skin. “I love it.”

Her response was a broken moan, her head falling back against the pillows as your tongue slid over her, teasing at first, slow and deliberate. Her hips bucked again, but you held her firmly, your fingers digging into her thighs to keep her in place. “Stay still,” you commanded, your voice rough. “Let me do this for you.”

Jisoo whimpered, her hands gripping the sheets as she struggled to obey, her cries growing louder as you worked her with precision. Your tongue found her most sensitive spot, circling it slowly before sucking gently, the combination making her gasp and writhe beneath you.

“God, you taste so good,” you murmured between strokes, your voice sending vibrations through her that made her cry out.

Her hands flew to your hair, tugging hard, her voice breaking as she moaned, “I—I can’t—”

“You can,” you growled, sliding two fingers into her slowly, stretching her as you kept your tongue focused on her. “Take it for me, Jisoo. You can handle it.”

Her body arched off the bed, her cries turning desperate as you set a steady rhythm, your fingers and tongue working in tandem to push her higher. You watched her closely, drinking in every reaction—the way her thighs trembled, the way her nails scratched at the sheets, the way her breath hitched every time you curled your fingers inside her.

When she finally fell apart, her body trembling violently as her release washed over her, her cries filled the room, your name falling from her lips like a prayer. You didn’t stop, guiding her through the waves of pleasure until she was completely spent, her body limp and her breathing ragged.

You kissed your way back up her body, your hands soothing her trembling thighs as you hovered over her. “You’re amazing,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to her lips, your voice rough but filled with admiration. “You’re perfect.”

Jisoo looked up at you, her eyes glassy with tears she didn’t bother to hide. “No one’s ever… made me feel like that,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

You brushed a strand of hair from her face, your gaze steady. “You deserve to feel like that every time,” you said firmly. “And I’ll make sure you do.”

Her lips found yours again, her kiss soft but full of gratitude, and as the night stretched on, you continued to take her apart, piece by piece, leaving her trembling and satisfied beneath you. By the time dawn broke, she was curled against you, her body spent but her heart full, her head resting on your chest as your fingers traced soothing patterns along her back.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “For showing me this.”

You pressed a kiss to her forehead, holding her close. “It’s just the beginning, Jisoo,” you whispered. “There’s so much more I want to give you.”

And as she drifted to sleep in your arms, you knew that whatever had started as an arrangement had become something deeper, something real—something you both would hold onto fiercely.