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creamflix · 2 days ago

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UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 4/5]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [added over the course of this series], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: series is coming to a close and all i can say time and time again is thank you <3 this has been such a blast to write and reading all your comments and tagged reblogs makes me beyond grateful. i was going to make this chapter longer but i exceeded the tumblr word break count, so the much awaited smut chapter & epilogue will be next :pensive: anyways, please enjoy!! and let me know if you're a fein for more....ifykyk :3

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

the day of your book launch arrived like a storm of excitement and celebration, the entire event carefully and extravagantly crafted by gojo-sonic. true to his word, satoru had given shoko a “no limits” budget, and she’d taken full advantage.

every detail screamed luxury and grandeur, from the sprawling hall draped in velvet and illuminated by chandeliers, to the massive screens flashing animations of your book cover as if it were the latest blockbuster. booths lined the entrance, stocked with merch inspired by mating the dragon king — everything from small trinkets to collector’s editions of the book. readers, critics, and fans alike were buzzing with excitement, filling the air with an electric anticipation.

you took it all in with awe, hardly able to believe the spectacle was for your work. a lump formed in your throat as you realized this was satoru and shoko’s way of supporting you, a grand gesture of friendship and admiration when words alone weren’t enough.

shoko, dressed to the nines, approached you with a smug grin, handing you a glass of wine, graciously sponsored by persephone wines.

“told you we’d go all out, didn’t i?” she chuckled, clinking her glass against yours.

“shoko, i don’t even know what to say. this is… i mean, look at all this,” you said, gesturing around you, a little overwhelmed by it all.

“just say you’ll dedicate the next one to us,” she teased, winking. “this was nothing. i didn’t even blow through the whole budget satoru gave me.”

“don’t worry, i’ll get my credit,” satoru’s familiar voice cut in as he joined you, flashing his trademark grin. “i told shoko: if we’re sponsoring the best writer i know, she deserves the best launch.”

“you two are ridiculous,” you laughed, but your heart was full. “thank you. really.”

“hey, you worked for this,” satoru shrugged, his eyes softening. “we just put a spotlight on the star.”

before you could respond, suguru’s voice came crackling through a tablet satoru was holding. he was miles away but, in true fashion, wouldn’t miss the opportunity to chime in.

along with having persephone wines sponsor the drinks, he’d also sent over an exquisitely tailored gown, just for the night, joking that it was the “least he could do�� from afar.

“i may not be there in person,” he quipped through the video call, his voice warm, “but i’ll be damned if i don’t make sure you look like the queen you are tonight. the gown suits you.”

you felt yourself flush at his words, smoothing the luxurious fabric of the gown as you glanced at yourself in one of the mirrors. “you outdid yourself, suguru. thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” he smiled, a soft glint of pride in his eyes. “now go show them why you’re the best.”

the event itself was a whirlwind of praise and conversation, with critics and fans alike coming up to you. several of them took the time to express their admiration for the novel’s heartfelt evolution.

“the relationship between the dragon king and the princess felt so raw, so beautifully authentic in this sequel,” one of them remarked. “you managed to capture this intense romance in a way that’s rare to see in fantasy. it wasn’t just lust, but something deeply emotional, and it resonated.”

another critic leaned in, smiling knowingly. “and the rivalry turned camaraderie between the dragon king and the knight? you’ve managed to make them compelling foils — layered and nuanced. it’s been a long time since i’ve read such rich dynamics.”

you accepted their words graciously, nodding and smiling, but your mind kept drifting back to toji.

all the subtle emotional depth in the book — the raw, consuming, and vulnerable aspects of love — it was impossible to ignore his influence on the way you wrote this time. he’d pulled you into a realm of understanding that went beyond mere words, and you’d poured that revelation into every chapter, every exchange between characters.

shoko caught your gaze and sidled up next to you. “sooo, thinkin’ about someone special?” she teased, raising her brow.

you tried to play it off with a shrug.

“maybe. it’s just… i’m realizing how far i’ve come. a few years ago, i could never have written like this, could never have understood these feelings so deeply. now… i feel like i’ve finally become the writer i always wanted to be.”

she nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “well, you’ve grown. and you’ve let someone in. that changes things. makes them real.”

as you moved through the event, mingling with guests and listening to the feedback, you allowed yourself a rare moment of pride. you’d worked so hard to get here, navigating the ups and downs of an author’s journey. the countless late nights, the rejections, the criticisms — they all seemed worth it now.

this was more than just a book launch; it was a testament to how much you’d evolved, both as a writer and as a person.

when you found a quiet corner to catch your breath, you couldn’t resist pulling out your phone, typing out a quick message to toji.

you [7:36 pm]: i owe a lot of this night to you, you know. couldn’t have written this without your… "help." 😌

a moment later, your phone buzzed with his reply.

toji [7:40 pm]: my pleasure, princess. make sure to give me a private reading of that sequel soon ;)

you laughed softly to yourself, tucking your phone away, feeling a rush of warmth that settled comfortably in your chest.

tonight was a night of celebration, but as you looked out at the gathering of supporters and friends, you knew that the most profound reward was waiting for you at home, ready to be there in ways that went beyond just words on a page.

“daddy, come on! we’re gonna be late!” megumi’s voice rang out through the small house, his small hands balled into impatient fists as he watched his dad struggle with his tie.

“alright, alright, relax, will ya?” toji grumbled, pulling the knot loose for the third time and starting over. his nerves weren’t exactly helping him get ready any faster, and megumi’s impatience wasn’t making things easier.

the babysitter mix-up had thrown a wrench into his plans.

tonight was supposed to be simple — show up, support you at your big launch, and, if he could work up the courage, propose.

that was already hard enough without a certain eight-year-old demanding he speed things up.

he glanced over at his son, who looked like a mini version of himself, decked out in a tiny suit, his hair combed neatly for once. megumi was practically vibrating with excitement.

“you ready for this, buddy?” toji asked, finally getting his tie straight and adjusting his collar.

megumi gave him a big grin, nodding eagerly. “i get to see y/n tonight! and everyone will say i look cool,” he added, puffing out his chest proudly. “do you think she’ll like it?”

toji smiled, his heart doing a weird flip at the thought of you seeing megumi like this. “she’ll love it. you look like a little heartbreaker,” he teased, ruffling his son’s hair before catching himself.

“but hey, don’t tell her that i messed up my tie like five times, alright? let’s keep it between us.”

megumi snickered, looking up at his dad with mischievous eyes. “only if you promise to hurry up! she’ll be there already! she’ll think we forgot her!”

toji let out a chuckle but felt a swell of something deeper. tonight was big — not just for you, but for him, for megumi, for the family he hoped to make official. he’d been so certain when he got the ring, so sure he’d just hand it over with some smooth line.

but now, standing here, he realized how real this was.

he’d spent most of his life with only his son by his side, and suddenly, you had filled in so many empty spaces he hadn’t even known were there.

“you think she’ll say yes?” he muttered to himself, not realizing he’d said it out loud until he saw megumi’s puzzled face.

“say yes to what?” megumi asked, head tilted as he studied his dad. “you didn’t ask her anything yet.”

toji’s heart leapt, but he just shrugged. “oh, just… if she’ll like the flowers, or the dress — uh, the way you’re dressed, i mean.” he rubbed the back of his neck, knowing full well his son wasn’t buying it.

“she’s gonna say yes to everything, daddy,” megumi said confidently, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “everyone loves her. i love her!”

toji’s chest tightened. he didn’t need to ask megumi if he’d be okay with you becoming a permanent part of their family; the kid practically glowed every time you walked into the room.

“alright, alright. let’s get outta here before she thinks we’re ditching her big night,” he said, scooping up his keys and nudging megumi toward the door.

as they drove to the venue, toji’s mind raced.

he thought about all the times you’d laughed with him, stayed late to watch silly movies with megumi, made dinners feel like more than just a chore.

you weren’t just good for him; you’d made him want more, to be better. and for megumi, you were the safe place he hadn’t even known he’d been missing.

“daddy, are you gonna kiss her tonight?” megumi piped up suddenly, pulling toji from his thoughts.

toji nearly choked. “uh, maybe, kid. depends on how things go.”

“good,” megumi replied, nodding solemnly. “you should. she likes you. she told me once.”

toji chuckled, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “yeah? and what’d she say?”

“she said you’re stubborn and don’t listen, but that you’re good at cooking,” megumi recited, looking pleased with himself. “and that she thinks you’re cute.”

toji’s heart soared. the kid had no idea what tonight meant, not really. but he could feel his own nerves steady, knowing he wasn’t alone in wanting this.

it wasn’t just him and megumi anymore — it was the three of them, and he wanted that, needed that, more than he’d let himself admit.

pulling up to the venue, he took a deep breath, looking over at megumi with a grin. “alright, bud. let’s go make her night unforgettable.”

you were mid-sentence with one of the editors when you heard it — your name, shouted in the unmistakable pitch of a child. whipping around, you barely had a moment to react before megumi, clutching a massive bouquet that nearly swallowed him whole, came barreling toward you.

“megs!” you gasped, and without thinking twice, you scooped him up into your arms, letting out a laugh that was half-surprise, half-joy. the flowers brushed against your face, petals tickling your nose as you held him tight, savoring the moment.

“oh my gosh, you’re here! and look at these!” you pulled back just enough to look at the bouquet, then at megumi, who was grinning up at you with all the pride in the world. “did you pick these out yourself, mister?”

“yep!” he beamed, holding the bouquet up higher, like he wanted to make sure you got a good look. “daddy said we could get the biggest one they had because tonight’s really special.”

before you could respond, toji appeared beside you, keeping his arm low and offering a subtle, one-armed hug — a gentle squeeze at your waist, just enough for you to feel him there. the touch, as small as it was, sent a warmth through you that the room full of people couldn’t rival.

“thought we’d surprise you,” toji murmured, his voice just for you as he pulled back a bit, casting a wary glance around. you knew he was trying to keep a low profile, aware of the eyes everywhere.

not many people knew about his personal life — let alone that he had a son — and you understood, appreciating the lengths he’d gone to just to bring megumi here tonight.

“you both did a perfect job,” you said, looking from toji to megumi with a soft smile. “you have no idea how happy i am right now.”

megumi’s eyes sparkled, as if he knew exactly how much his presence meant. “i told daddy we couldn’t miss it! i mean, it’s your biggest book ever, right?” he asked, bouncing a little in your arms, oblivious to the attention his enthusiasm was drawing.

“it is,” you nodded, smoothing a hand through his hair, “and you made it so much better just by being here.”

“oh!” megumi perked up, his voice loud enough to turn a few heads. “did you know i brought my special iron-man pen so i can sign books too?”

you laughed, nodding along. “well, with a pen like that, you’ll be the best co-author here.” you glanced up at toji, sharing a knowing look.

“thank you for bringing him. i know it… wasn’t easy.”

toji shrugged, his expression softening just for a moment. “hey, it’s your night. thought he might make it even better.” his words were casual, but the sincerity in his eyes was undeniable.

it was like he wanted to tell you so much more, but knew it wasn’t the time or place.

a nearby critic approached, clearing his throat as he smiled at you. “i hope we aren’t interrupting a family moment,” he said kindly, glancing at megumi with a smile. “but i’d like to congratulate you on your incredible work — it’s rare to see such depth in a romance series, truly.”

you flushed, offering him a grateful smile as you shifted megumi in your arms. “thank you so much. that means the world to me,” you replied, feeling megumi wiggle with excitement.

toji, standing just behind you, kept his hand resting gently at your back, his presence grounding you as you navigated the crowd. despite his careful distance, you could feel his pride, his quiet support, and it felt like a shield, like a promise he was making, even in silence.

you knew how much it took for him to be here, to show this side of himself to the world, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

as you shook hands, exchanged pleasantries, and posed for photos, toji stayed close, always within reach. each time you turned to look at him, he was there with a soft, steady gaze, giving you that silent encouragement he seemed to master so well. with every glance, every small exchange, you could see the admiration in his eyes, like he was seeing you all over again and falling deeper.

megumi, oblivious to the significance of the moment, tugged at your sleeve. “are we gonna eat soon? daddy said there’s cake.”

you smiled, leaning close to him. “oh, definitely. i hear it’s the best cake in the whole city.”

“see, told you we’d get cake,” toji muttered under his breath, ruffling megumi’s hair. you couldn’t help but laugh, seeing the way his gaze softened as he looked at you both. there was so much affection there — unspoken, but understood.

for a brief second, you imagined this was your life every day. not just events and fleeting moments, but nights together, little family moments like this.

the thought made your heart swell, and for a second, you allowed yourself to imagine the possibility of it becoming real, wondering if maybe, just maybe, toji wanted it as much as you did.

toji leaned back against the wall, his eyes following the two of you as you knelt down to point out the different treats on the table for megumi, who was practically bouncing with excitement.

the critic’s words kept circling in his mind, replaying over and over, making his chest feel tight: family. family moment.

the idea of it hung in the air, clinging to him in a way he couldn’t shake off. watching you with megumi like this, it was a glimpse of something he’d never dared to imagine, and yet here it was, right in front of him.

his fingers brushed the small box in his pocket, feeling the outline of the ring he’d agonized over for weeks. it had seemed crazy when he’d first bought it — almost reckless.

me, proposing? he’d thought, laughing at himself. but now, with you and megumi just a few feet away, it didn’t feel crazy.

it felt like the most real, most obvious thing in the world.

"daddy! look!" megumi called out, waving a small pastry in the air. “she said i can try whatever i want! even the tiny cake things!”

“the petit fours,” you corrected with a smile, ruffling his hair. “you have great taste, kiddo.”

toji chuckled, crossing his arms as he walked over to you both. “better take it easy, megumi. don’t want you passing out before the cake,” he teased, slipping an arm around your waist without even thinking about it. the gesture was small, casual, but it felt right.

“i’m not gonna pass out! i can eat everything,” megumi declared with a determined nod, his cheeks already stuffed with a piece of macaron.

you both laughed, and toji glanced at you, his smile lingering just a little longer than usual. his heart thudded with a strange, warm ache.

he could see it now — the life he’d always convinced himself he didn’t need, didn’t deserve. he could see it so clearly: late nights, family meals, hearing megumi’s laughter echo through your home.

and you… you beside him, every step of the way.

his hand found yours and squeezed it, his voice dropping low, soft, “you’re really something, you know that?”

you tilted your head up at him, a bit of surprise mixed with warmth in your eyes. “what’s got you so sentimental all of a sudden?” you teased, nudging him playfully.

he chuckled, shaking his head. “maybe just… realizing how lucky i am.”

before you could respond, a familiar voice rang out, entirely too loud for the occasion.

“well, well, well, look who finally made it!” satoru announced, strutting over with shoko at his side, her expression mildly amused. “thought you’d skip your own lady’s event, huh, toji?”

toji rolled his eyes but gave satoru a smirk. “yeah, figured i’d let you take all the credit.”

satoru scoffed, nudging toji’s arm. “as if. this isn’t my night, it’s hers.”

he turned to you with a broad grin. “you’re killing it tonight, seriously. it’s about time everyone realized how much of a genius you are.”

“here, here,” shoko added, raising an invisible glass in toast, her eyes gleaming with that usual mix of admiration and mischief. “you deserve all of this, every bit of it.”

you smiled, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks. “thank you, both of you. really. none of this would’ve happened without you two backing me up from day one.”

satoru scoffed, waving you off. “please, you would’ve gotten here on your own. we just sped things up a little.”

toji watched as satoru and shoko chatted with you, keeping one hand wrapped around yours. satoru and shoko had no idea, of course, that tonight was the night he planned on asking you to be part of his life permanently.

it was almost funny, seeing them so oblivious, all while toji stood here with a ring in his pocket, ready to turn his life upside down.

“you okay?” shoko asked, raising a brow at him as she noticed his quiet, distant expression. “you look like you’re planning something big. which, if you are, you should probably warn her first.” her voice held a teasing edge, but there was something knowing in her eyes.

he gave a small shrug, trying to play it off.

“just… feeling lucky,” he said again, and he meant it more now than ever.

the moment megumi’s eyes landed on the enormous dragon hanging from the ceiling, his mouth fell open in awe, and he pointed up with such force it was almost as if he was about to fly off the ground.

his little voice pierced through the chatter of the room as he shrieked, “look! look! a real dragon!”

everyone turned their heads in unison, drawn to the oversized, intricate dragon decoration that swirled and curled down from the ceiling, its glittering scales catching the light and its wings spread wide like it was ready to take flight.

“woah, that thing’s massive,” satoru said, clearly impressed, even though his voice had the usual playful edge. “didn’t know you were into dragons, megumi.”

megumi, not even listening to satoru’s question, continued to point excitedly, his eyes wide with the kind of childlike wonder that made his enthusiasm contagious.

“it’s the dragon king!” he announced, as though he were revealing a hidden treasure. “he’s gonna — he’s gonna —”

“he’s gonna swoop down and eat us all up!” toji finished with a grin, playing along as he leaned in to mess with megumi’s hair. “better watch out, kiddo.”

megumi gasped, taking a step back dramatically as if the dragon could really eat him.

“nooooo!” he screamed, his tiny voice making everyone in the vicinity laugh. “i don’t wanna be eaten!”

“you’ll be fine,” you said, leaning down and pulling him into your side for a protective hug. “but if you’re not careful, the dragon might just come and steal your cookies.”

megumi narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion, crossing his arms. “that’s what he wants? cookies?!” he asked incredulously, his voice loud enough for the entire room to hear. “i can take him! i’m iron man!”

everyone laughed again, and even toji chuckled under his breath, watching his son’s antics with affection.

“you’d better be quick then, iron man,” toji teased, a hand sliding around your waist. “i think the dragon’s looking at your cookies.”

megumi immediately perked up at that, his eyes darting back to the dragon above them. “no! that’s my cookie! he better stay away!” he shouted, before running off toward the table with treats, waving his arms like he was preparing for battle. “you better not mess with my cookies, dragon!”

“he’s serious about those cookies,” satoru said with a grin, chuckling as he shook his head. “maybe we should let megumi take on the dragon first, then we can all get some cookies in peace.”

toji couldn't stop smiling at the sight of megumi racing toward the table. he hadn't seen the kid this excited in a while. it was as if his joy was a burst of energy that spread throughout the room. the love, the laughter — it all felt like a dream to him.

“what about you?” shoko asked with a teasing smirk, looking at you. “are you joining in the battle too?”

you grinned, your gaze flicking to toji for a brief moment before your eyes softened. “yeah, we’ve got to make sure the cookies are safe, right?”

toji’s heart thudded in his chest. he knew that this — these moments with you and megumi — was what he wanted. it wasn’t just about him or about megumi. it was about you three, together, as a family.

even if no one else knew it yet, it was real in his heart.

“we are the cookie protectors,” you said, straightening up. “and the dragon better stay away from us.”

megumi, now holding a cookie in each hand, jumped up and down. “yeah! take that, dragon!” he shouted, looking back at you for approval. his small face was so determined, so full of confidence, that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“that’s my boy,” toji muttered under his breath, watching the small scene unfold. he didn’t know how it had happened, but somewhere along the way, his heart had found a place with you and megumi — his family.

and no dragon, real or not, could take that from him.

you looked up at him, and for a brief second, the entire world felt like it slowed down. "we’re really doing this, huh?" you said softly, and toji’s lips curved into a warm, affectionate smile.

“yeah,” he replied, his voice steady. “we really are.”

as the last guests trickled out, toji gave a subtle nod to gojo and shoko, who shared a knowing look. gojo’s grin stretched ear to ear, and he waggled his eyebrows at toji.

“ohhhh, i see what’s going on,” he drawled dramatically, casting a wink your way. “don’t worry, big guy. we’ll keep the little one entertained.”

“so you two can, you know… have a moment,” shoko added, giving you both a half-smile as she nudged megumi’s shoulder. “come on, kid, let’s go see if there’s any cake left in the back.”

megumi’s eyes lit up. “cake? there’s more cake?”

“as much as you want,” gojo said, patting his head. he leaned down and stage-whispered, “besides, your dad probably needs all the help he can get to keep up with his favorite author.”

toji shot gojo a glare as gojo strutted away, dragging megumi with him. but there was a small, grateful smile tucked under the tough exterior as he turned back to you.

“they’re so extra,” you laughed, shaking your head as toji led you out onto the balcony, where twinkling lights and a clear view of the moon made everything feel softer, more intimate.

“think that’s what friends are for,” toji mumbled, scratching his neck, clearly trying to shake off a bit of nervousness. he looked so out of place in a suit but wore it well, in that rugged, casual way that made you feel like you were with him — not some polished version of him. you gave his arm a gentle squeeze as you both settled onto the bench.

“honestly, i still can’t believe how well tonight went,” you murmured, staring out at the moonlit view. “it feels surreal.”

toji chuckled. “yeah, you handled it like a pro. i don’t know how you keep it together with all those people throwing compliments and criticism at you.”

you laughed softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “oh, like you’re one to talk, mr. mysterious voice actor.”

he rolled his eyes, but there was a small, proud grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “voice actor, huh? kinda takes the mystery out of it.”

“please, i see how they look at you when you talk,�� you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder. “if they only knew half the things you say to me, the mystery would be gone in a second.”

toji huffed, his cheeks slightly pink as he wrapped his arm around you. “maybe i like keeping a few secrets,” he said, tone low and soft, like he was letting you in on one right then.

you stayed like that, just nestled against him, and a comfortable silence settled between you. after a moment, you stood and walked to the ledge to snap a picture of the full moon, your phone’s flash catching on something small — a tiny charm dangling from your phone. toji’s eyes drifted to it, and he felt a sudden rush of warmth at the sight: the little origami paper ring he’d made for you months ago, in a moment that felt playful and silly then, but seeing it still there now…

he took a deep breath, fingers brushing over the ring box in his pocket.

it’s now or never, huh?

“hey,” he called softly.

you turned, your face softly illuminated by the moonlight. there was a kind, patient look in your eyes — the look that he swore could stop his heart — and his own heart hammered as he took a step closer.

“so, um…” he cleared his throat, trying not to let his nerves show. “you remember that first night we met? at the bar?”

“oh yeah,” you said with a little smile. “you were the one looking all grumpy in the corner.”

he chuckled. “yeah, i… guess i thought i was too good for everyone there.” he smirked, shaking his head. “then you sat down and completely threw me off. got me talking more in one night than i’d talked all year.”

you laughed, taking his hand and giving it a small squeeze. “you didn’t seem like the talking type.”

“i wasn’t,” he said, softer now, “until you.”

you tilted your head, brows lifting in surprise as he went on.

“i tried not to make a big deal out of it,” he said, a little embarrassed, “but i fell hard that night. i kept telling myself it was nothing, but then… every time i saw you with megumi, every time i watched you do what you love…” his voice grew softer. “hell, every time you’d hum “dancing queen,” i’d get this stupid grin on my face and just think, ‘yeah, this is it.’”

you couldn’t help but laugh at that, even as your heart beat faster. “dancing queen? really?”

“yeah, laugh all you want,” he teased, shaking his head, “but it’s true.”

then, with a steadying breath, he pulled out the ring box and flipped it open, revealing a delicate ring, the exact same shade of blue as the paper ring on your charm.

“so… will you let me make this official? be my wife? let me be there for you and megumi, as more than… you know, whatever we’ve been calling this?”

your eyes filled with tears as you stared at the ring, then up at him. without hesitation, you flung your arms around him, hugging him tight as you whispered, “yes. yes, toji, a thousand times yes.”

he exhaled in relief, wrapping his arms around you as if he was afraid to let go. “about time,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “thought you’d never give in.”

you leaned back, laughing as you swiped at your tears. “oh, shut up, you were the one dragging your feet!”

“i’m just thorough,” he said with a smirk, slipping the ring onto your finger. he glanced down at it, a proud smile on his face. “looks good on you.”

you admired the ring, then met his gaze with a grin. “it’s perfect. but, uh… i hope you’re ready for a lifetime of dancing queen.”

toji groaned playfully, though his eyes sparkled with happiness. “guess i can handle that… as long as i’ve got you.”

as you stood there, feeling the weight of the ring on your finger and the warmth of toji’s arms around you, the realization washed over you like a tidal wave — you, the anonymous smut writer extraordinaire, the queen of dodging wholesome romance in favor of spicy plots, were now officially engaged.

engaged, as in, someone actually wanted to put a ring on it.

and that someone just happened to be toji fushiguro, who, at this very moment, had the audacity to be looking at you with that amused glint in his eye, watching your face morph from shock to excitement to full-on teary bawling.

“oh my god,” you croaked, barely able to contain the laugh-sobs that bubbled up.

“i’m engaged. like, wedding bells and not trolling in the comments sections engaged.”

toji raised a brow, pulling you closer as he chuckled. “i mean, considering half the stuff you write about, that’s a hell of a transition. but hey, you’re handling it… sorta.”

“sorta?” you sniffled, then glared at him through watery eyes. “i’m having a life-altering epiphany, thank you very much.”

he smirked, swiping a thumb under your eye to catch a stray tear. “awwww, poor baby. reality setting in?”

you scoffed, trying to stifle the way your laugh broke into another sob. “look, i just… never thought i’d actually be here, you know? from hidden smut scenes and faceless profiles to… this.”

“hey, hey,” he murmured, squeezing your hand. “if it makes you feel better, i’m here for all of it. the trolls, the, uh… ‘intense fan engagement,’ and whatever’s next. and i gotta say, i think it’s pretty hot my girl’s a smut connoisseur.”

you smacked his arm, laughing through your tears. “you just like that i write things that would make a nun pass out.”

“absolutely,” he grinned. “it’s impressive. educational, even.”

you let out a snort-laugh, wiping your cheeks. “oh my god, toji, please. this is already too much. i’m literally having a moment, and you’re still finding a way to bring up my career in porn literacy.”

he chuckled, pulling you close and leaning his forehead against yours. “is it really a moment if i don’t remind you what a legend you are?”

you blinked up at him, overwhelmed by a mix of hilarity and emotion, the tears slipping down despite yourself. “i… i guess not.”

“see?” he said softly, brushing his thumb over your cheek again. “you’re one of a kind, y’know that? and i’ve loved you since day one — trolls, sarcasm, emotional breakdowns, and all.”

you sniffled, biting back a laugh that still sounded half like a sob. “since day one? you mean since i saw you brooding in a bar and puked on your shoes?”

“yeah, yeah,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost reverent. “since that night. you took me out of my head, put me right in yours. and now… i don’t think i’d want to be anywhere else.”

that did it; a fresh wave of tears slipped down, and you let out a groan, barely holding back a laugh. “great, now i’m really crying. and it’s all your fault for saying something so sweet.”

toji’s lips curved into a smirk as he gently thumbed away your tears. “i’ll take the blame,” he murmured, then pulled you close again. “so long as i get to see that pretty face of yours every day.”

“ugh,” you muttered, but your voice wobbled, giving you away. “you’re such a jerk. you know that?”

“only for you, babe,” he said, squeezing you. “only for you.”

toji grinned, watching the emotional storm brewing in your eyes. just as you took a shaky breath to speak, he cleared his throat dramatically, adopting a voice dripping with fake sincerity, and intoned, “my love for you burns brighter than the eternal flames of the dragon king’s wrath…”

your jaw dropped, equal parts horror and laughter bubbling up. “oh my god, toji. no. you didn’t just quote one of my lines. that line.”

he smirked, utterly unbothered, shrugging casually. “what can i say? they had those fancy signed copies lying around… thought i’d see what all the fuss was about.”

you were torn between laughing and punching him. “so, you thought you’d quote the cheesiest line in the whole book? i swear, that scene was a joke between me and shoko —”

“hey, don’t knock it,” he said with a smirk, throwing an arm around you. “personally, i think it’s beautiful. poetic, even. you’d make any dragon proud, babe.”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “i’m so embarrassed right now.”

“oh, c’mon,” he nudged, pulling your hands away so he could see your face. “if it makes you feel any better, it got me here, didn’t it? my heart’s already caught fire.”

“stop it,” you laughed, finally relenting and pressing your forehead to his chest, a half-hearted punch to his shoulder. “you’re such a jerk.”

he chuckled, wrapping you in his arms. “yeah, but i’m your jerk. and i gotta say, i think we’d make a pretty good team. i mean, after all, the dragon king always finds his queen…”

“i will actually murder you,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the way your laughter softened, clinging to him just a little tighter.

“that’s my girl,” he murmured, planting a kiss on the top of your head, a warm, knowing smile on his face.

the morning after the book launch, toji was on high alert as he sat megumi down at the kitchen table. the little guy was still bleary-eyed, hair a mess, pajamas slightly askew, but when he spotted his dad’s unusually serious expression, he perked up, looking from toji to the unopened box of cereal on the table.

“what’s up, daddy?” he asked, squinting at him suspiciously.

toji cleared his throat. “listen, kiddo… i’ve got some big news.”

megumi’s eyes widened. “big news?” he asked, already intrigued. “like… big like when we found out that the dragon yesterday was a real dragon?”

toji scratched his head, trying not to laugh. “well, maybe not that big. but it’s important. you know how much i love y/n, right?”

megumi nodded with an exaggerated seriousness that only an eight-year-old could muster. “of course! you guys are always looking at each other, and you smile even when she makes fun of you.”

“oh, she makes fun of me?” toji chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, dad. i heard her say you look like a ‘tough marshmallow’ once,” megumi said, and then giggled at the memory.

toji rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips. “well, anyway… i’ve decided to ask her to marry me. and guess what? she said yes.”

megumi’s eyes grew as big as saucers, and he sat straight up in his seat. “wait, like… she’s gonna be my mama?”

toji nodded, grinning. “yeah, just like that. you and me — we’re gonna be a team with her.”

megumi stared at him in stunned silence, and then, all at once, he exploded with excitement.

“YES! that’s so awesome!” he yelled, fist-pumping the air. “we’re gonna be a real family, with, like… dinners, and vacations, and… wait, does that mean i can tell my friends i have a mama now?”

toji chuckled. “you sure can, kid.”

“oh man,” megumi squealed, his hands up in the air as he looked around the kitchen as if needing to celebrate immediately. “this is amazing! we need to have a party or something!”

he practically bounced up, reaching for his favorite cereal with such enthusiasm that his elbow knocked a bottle of milk right off the counter, sending it crashing to the floor. they both froze, looking at the mess.

megumi winced. “uh… oops?”

toji just laughed, pulling him into a one-armed hug. “we’ll clean it up together. ‘cause that’s what families do, right?”

megumi beamed up at him, the pure joy in his little face melting every last bit of toji’s tough exterior. “right! and i’ll do it fast, ‘cause i’m excited. i can’t believe this. i’m so lucky, daddy!”

toji ruffled his hair. “nah, kid. i’m the lucky one. and trust me, it’s about to get even better.”

it's barely dawn when your phone buzzes, dragging you out of a warm, blissful sleep. squinting at the screen, you see toji’s name flashing. a sleepy smile forms on your face, but before you can even say hello, a very familiar, very excited young voice explodes into your ear.

“y/n!!! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!!” megumi practically yells, his voice hitting decibels that feel criminally loud this early in the morning.

you jolt, holding the phone a little farther from your ear. “megumi?” you mumble, still half-asleep and trying to process the level of energy he’s throwing at you. “why are you up so early, buddy? did something happen?”

“something HUGE happened! guess what, guess what, guess what!” he shouts, each “guess what” somehow louder than the last.

blinking against the early light creeping into your room, you stifle a yawn. “hmm… did someone find a real-life dragon in our backyard?” you play along, rubbing your eyes.

“even BETTER!” he declares triumphantly. “you’re gonna be my mama!!”

you pause, biting back a laugh, because of course you already know this. but hearing the excitement in his voice, you can’t help but let yourself get a little carried away, too.

“oh, wow! really? that’s incredible, ‘gumi! i had no idea,” you say, matching his enthusiasm with a gasp.

“i know! isn’t it soo cool?! i told daddy that this means we get to have family dinners and stuff, and now i get to tell my friends that i have a mama,” he babbles, his words running together in his excitement.

toji’s voice, faint in the background, mutters, “megs, let her breathe.”

but megumi, undeterred, barrels on. “and guess what else! i’m gonna help pick out the wedding cake. i already told daddy i want one with dragons on it, so we’ll be like, the coolest family ever.”

you laugh, absolutely charmed by his excitement. “well, i think that’s an amazing idea. a dragon cake sounds perfect.”

“right?! and can we have swords, too? i think it should be like one of those fights, where you and dad have to fight, and whoever wins gets the cake.” he’s practically bouncing off the walls at this point, each suggestion wilder than the last.

“swords and dragons? that might be a tall order, but we can see what we can do,” you reply, stifling another laugh.

toji’s voice cuts in, sounding both amused and exasperated. “alright, kiddo, you’re supposed to let her sleep. remember? that was the deal if i let you call her this early.”

there’s a dramatic pause, and then megumi whispers loudly into the phone, “oops.”

you chuckle. “it’s okay, mumi. i’m really glad you called. now i’m just as excited as you are.”

“good!” he cheers, before pausing. “but, uh… you can still sleep if you want. i can call you again in five minutes if that helps?”

“five minutes, huh?” you glance at the clock, pretending to think it over. “you know what, i’ll take that extra sleep. i’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“okay!” he chirps, clearly pleased with himself for being so “understanding” about your need for sleep.

you hear toji laugh softly in the background, and he takes the phone back. “go back to sleep, sweetheart. i’ll make sure megumi doesn’t actually call you in five.”

“i appreciate it,” you murmur, smiling. “good luck keeping him in one place today.”

“thanks. i’m gonna need it,” toji chuckles. “get some rest. we’ll see you soon, future mrs. fushiguro.”

a warmth blooms in your chest, making it even harder to hang up. “can’t wait. love you both.”

as you finally close your eyes again, megumi’s ecstatic little voice echoes in your mind. it’s the kind of wake-up call you could get used to, even if it means sacrificing a few hours of sleep.

toji grumbled as he held up his phone, squinting against the light from the window. it wasn’t every day he voluntarily subjected himself to a facetime call with those two, but after everything that’d happened last night, he supposed he owed them the news firsthand. as the phone rang, he mentally prepared himself for the inevitable chaos that was about to unfold.

the call finally connected, but there was nothing but… dead silence. neither gojo nor suguru had their cameras on, which was weird because gojo’s face was usually plastered in the frame within seconds, whether he was ready or not.

“uh… you two there, or is my phone broken?” toji asked, furrowing his brow, wondering if it was some kind of network issue.

another moment passed before gojo’s voice finally came through, quiet and almost suspicious.

“so, toji. you call us this early, just for what? a chat?”

“what, i’m not allowed to check in?” toji countered, unable to keep a smirk off his face. “and hey, it’s not that early.”

“toji, it’s barely eight!” gojo’s voice was dramatic, and toji could practically feel suguru rolling his eyes in the background.

“yeah, yeah, well… it’s important,” toji finally muttered. he knew it was going to sound weird to them, especially coming from him, but he had to bite the bullet.

“look, i got engaged last night.”

a beat of absolute silence.

toji even pulled the phone away from his face to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. then, suddenly, he heard a choking noise on the other end, and gojo’s voice came back with a trembling, “what did you just say?”

“yeah. i asked her to marry me. it’s real.” toji’s voice was nonchalant, as if he was just talking about his usual dinner plans, but his grip on the phone tightened. he didn’t know what to expect from them. jokes? a snide comment? but… nothing.

dead silence again.

“alright, what the hell? you guys hear me, or what?” toji demanded, brow knitting in confusion. were they that shocked, or was the signal just terrible?

and then, from the other end, he heard a frantic scramble, some muffled curses, and then… nothing. his screen stayed black.

just as he was starting to think the call had dropped, there was a loud knock on the door of his house, followed by the unmistakable sound of fists pounding against the wood.

“toji! open up!” gojo’s voice was shrill with excitement, and suguru’s calm, collected voice was barely audible under gojo’s babbling. “we’re coming in!”

toji groaned, rubbing a hand down his face, but he couldn’t stop the grin creeping up on him. he opened the door, and immediately gojo shoved past him, eyes wide and… were those tears?

“toji! no. you did not just get engaged.” gojo looked between him and the empty house as if expecting some kind of confirmation. he grabbed toji by the shoulders, eyes glistening, voice a little thick with emotion. “you… you’re serious? i swear, if you’re messing with us —”

“satoru,” suguru interrupted, leaning casually in the doorway, looking far more composed but with a smirk tugging at his lips. “give the man some space.”

“no! he’s been holding out on us this entire time! and now he’s engaged?” gojo sniffled dramatically, then pulled back and looked around, eyes narrowing.

“wait. where’s she? she has to confirm this. i don’t believe it otherwise.”

toji rolled his eyes, half-exasperated, half-amused. “she’s not here, genius. she’s at her place. i didn’t drag her along for this circus.”

“circus?! toji, this is a historic moment!” gojo looked as if he was going to cry all over again.

“you, of all people, settling down with someone — i just — i knew you had it in you! i just thought it would take a lot more time. i mean, do you even know what to do now that you’re —” he waggled his fingers, unable to contain his excitement, “ — engaged?”

toji snorted, feeling a weird warmth settle in his chest. “well, obviously. i got this covered. don’t act like you know everything, gojo.”

suguru chuckled from his spot, crossing his arms and giving toji an approving nod. “i’m honestly impressed. never thought i’d see the day.”

“oh, please.” gojo scoffed, reaching up to dab his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “don’t look at me like that. you’re crying too.”

suguru raised an eyebrow, unaffected. “i’m… not crying, satoru.”

gojo shot him a glare, but then turned back to toji, his face softening. “all joking aside, man, i’m really happy for you. i knew you’d find someone who could handle all… this.” he gestured broadly to toji, grinning. “and that she’d actually make you a better person.”

“yeah, yeah. thanks for the pep talk,” toji muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he scratched the back of his neck. “didn’t think i’d be hearing this from you two clowns.”

“hey,” suguru said with a smirk, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “that’s what friends are for, right? to be there when you make stupid decisions… or, in this case, when you make one of the best decisions of your life.”

toji rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny the swell of gratitude in his chest. he’d known these two idiots for years, and hearing them actually cheer him on — well, it was something.

gojo sniffled again, clearly still emotional, then let out a bark of laughter. “so, tell us, what’s the plan now, mr. engaged man?”

“plan?” toji raised an eyebrow. “uh, i dunno, man. probably marry her?”

“don’t be sarcastic, toji!” gojo waved a hand. “i mean the details. are you doing it here? is there gonna be a fancy wedding? can i give a speech?”

toji pinched the bridge of his nose. “i’m pretty sure giving you a mic is gonna be the worst decision of my life.”

“that’s what you said about proposing,” suguru chimed in with a grin.

“touche,” toji muttered, though his smirk betrayed his amusement.

gojo, however, was unrelenting. “so, can i give a speech? come on, toji. i can make it classy. well, sorta. at least i’ll keep it pg — ish.”

“we’ll see, alright?” toji finally conceded, shaking his head as gojo cheered like he’d just won a prize. “but don’t make me regret it.”

“you won’t!” gojo promised, practically vibrating with excitement. “i swear, this is gonna be epic.”

as they continued to tease and joke, the weight of the whole thing started to settle in for toji.

he was actually… engaged.

and having these two idiots with him, sharing the moment in their ridiculous way, made it feel real.

“seriously though,” suguru said softly, giving him a sincere look. “we’re happy for you, man. she’s good for you. and you’re gonna be an even better man with her by your side.”

toji took a deep breath, nodding. “yeah… i think so too.”

they shared a rare, quiet moment, before gojo predictably ruined it with a loud sniff. “okay, enough of the mushy stuff. let’s celebrate! someone find a cake!”

toji let out a laugh, shaking his head. he’d never admit it, but right then, with gojo’s exaggerated tears and suguru’s approving grin, he realized he had everything he needed — and he wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.

after the chaotic call with toji and, mostly, megumi, there was no way you were going back to sleep. megumi’s squealing declaration of, “you’re gonna be my mama!” had left you lying there, wide awake, in a sort of dazed disbelief.

and really, who else would you call at an hour like this but shoko?

you dialed her number, tapping your foot against the floor as it rang, and it didn’t take long for her to pick up.

“it’s eight in the morning, this better be good,” she mumbled, her voice groggy but laced with intrigue.

“oh, trust me, it is,” you said, and just like that, all the excitement came rushing back.

“toji proposed last night.”

there was silence on the other end. just as you started to wonder if she’d fallen asleep, she finally responded with a very eloquent, “wait, what?”

“yeah. proposed. last night. officially engaged,” you replied, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. you were still riding that high, and the fact that shoko, who was usually so cool and unflappable, sounded actually stunned was a bonus.

“no way.” you could hear her sitting up, probably rubbing her eyes in disbelief. “toji proposed? the same toji who spent half his life avoiding commitment like it was a death sentence?”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “yeeeppp, that’s the one.”

“oh my god,” she muttered, and you could practically see her shaking her head. “i knew you two were close, but… this is major. i never thought i’d live to see the day toji fushiguro actually put a ring on someone.”

“honestly, neither did i,” you admitted, smiling. “but here we are.”

“here we are,” she echoed, sounding just as baffled as you felt.

“man, this is going to throw satoru into a complete meltdown. you know he’s going to act like he’s the one getting married. brace yourself.”

you snickered, knowing she was absolutely right. “oh, i already know. i’m guessing he’ll throw himself a one-man wedding just to feel involved.”

shoko let out a bark of laughter, fully awake now. “and suguru? he’ll pretend he doesn’t care, but deep down, he’s probably lowkey emotional. i mean, it’s toji we’re talking about.”

“oh, i’m sure,” you said, grinning. “they’re probably off somewhere right now, grappling with the news, questioning how this could even happen.”

“please tell me you’re doing something to celebrate?” shoko asked, sounding genuinely excited now.

“well, i haven’t had much time to think about it,” you admitted. “toji’s with megumi at their place, and i’ve been mostly lying here, trying to wrap my head around it. but yeah, we’ll have to plan something.”

“good,” she replied, her tone a mix of fondness and exasperation. “you’re really going through with this, huh?”

“guess so,” you said, letting out a soft sigh. “i mean, the man wore me down with sheer persistence and probably some kind of magic spell.”

“hey, if anyone’s capable of luring you into marriage with his questionable charm, it’s toji,” she quipped. “alright, just promise you’ll let me know when i can start making sarcastic toasts about your love life.”

you laughed, feeling a bit of warmth in your chest. “deal. just, uh… don’t go too hard on him?”

“can’t make any promises,” she said, and you could hear her smile through the phone. “but seriously, congrats. i’m happy for you.”

“thanks, shoko,” you murmured, feeling a little teary-eyed again.

“don’t get all mushy on me now,” she grumbled playfully. “anyway, go get some sleep. you’ll need it to survive gojo’s emotional rollercoaster later.”

“noted. thanks for… you know, being there and everything.”

“anytime,” she replied, voice softer. “and hey, if you need help dealing with him, i’ll bring earplugs and champagne. we’ll get through it together.”

you hung up, a smile lingering on your face as you finally felt yourself relaxing, her warmth and dry wit making everything feel real. there were wild days ahead, but with people like shoko — and, admittedly, even satoru and suguru — in your corner, you figured you could handle whatever this wild journey with toji brought your way.

the planning was barely underway, but with gojo involved, it was already spinning wildly out of control.

“i’m telling you, the whole thing’s on me!” gojo announced, practically vibrating with excitement. he looked at you and toji with a glint in his eye that screamed no room for negotiation. “no expenses spared, no corners cut.”

you exchanged a look with toji, and he rolled his eyes. “we’re not celebrities, gojo. we don’t need you to go full kardashian here.”

gojo waved a hand dismissively. “nonsense! it’s your wedding. our wedding,” he corrected, gesturing grandly to include everyone. “i want nothing but the best for our girl and toji — even if he does look like he’s heading to a funeral half the time.”

toji snorted. “you’d look like this too if you had to put up with you on a daily basis.”

gojo gasped dramatically. “how dare you! i’m delightful!”

suguru, who was sitting back watching the chaos with his usual serene expression, piped up, “you know, he’s technically sponsoring it, so he’s not wrong. though i am begging you to leave the smoke machines and laser lights out of it.”

gojo gave suguru a mock-offended look. “oh, come on! think of the ambiance!”

“i’m thinking of it, alright,” suguru said dryly. “and it’s giving me a headache.”

“how about we go traditional?” you suggested, trying to bring some order to the conversation. “nothing too flashy. simple, elegant, you know?”

“but, mama,” megumi piped up, looking up from the sketches he’d been doodling. “we have to have the dragon fountain!”

toji raised an eyebrow. “dragon fountain?”

megumi nodded, eyes wide with excitement. “a chocolate fountain! but, like, huge and with dragon heads spouting chocolate!”

gojo slapped his knee, eyes gleaming. “genius idea, kiddo! a dragon fountain it is! we could even do white, milk, and dark chocolate heads. maybe throw in a caramel one, too!”

you shook your head, laughing. “and who’s going to eat all this chocolate? because i’m not sure megumi’s digestive system can handle that much sugar.”

“we’ll make it work,” shoko chimed in, flipping through a wedding planner book that she clearly swiped off some poor, unsuspecting bride-to-be. “if gojo’s footing the bill, might as well go all out. i’ll take care of managing his ambitions.”

“exactly! shoko gets it,” gojo beamed, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “and don’t worry, i’ll make sure to throw in an open bar. suguru, back me up on this — no wedding’s complete without one.”

“only if we don’t make it a neon glow theme,” suguru deadpanned. “or i’ll skip town on the day.”

gojo smirked. “okay, fine, we’ll tone it down. maybe we can go with a tasteful theme. you know, candles and chandeliers…”

toji eyed him suspiciously. “you better not pull any of those ‘tasteful’ surprises where everyone suddenly has glow sticks halfway through the reception.”

gojo crossed his heart. “scout’s honor. only sophisticated, adult fun.”

you leaned back with a sigh, sharing an exasperated smile with toji. “honestly, i was picturing something small and simple. i mean, it’s our wedding, not some movie premiere.”

“but that’s so boring,” gojo whined, flopping onto the couch with a pout. “it’s the event of the century! my best friend’s wedding!”

“we’re not giving you a starring role in it, satoru,” you replied, but you couldn’t help laughing. “it’s not the same as one of your campaigns.”

“pfft,” he waved it off, clearly ignoring you. “oh, and i’m bringing in a string quartet. suguru, thoughts?”

“a quartet’s fine,” suguru replied. “as long as you’re not personally conducting them.”

toji raised a brow. “wait, how many musicians do we need? i thought it was just a dj.”

“absolutely not!” gojo interjected. “this is a high-class affair, we need a live band for the ambiance. and maybe — just maybe — a marching band as we enter the reception. what do you think?”

“i think you need to sit down,” toji said, chuckling. “keep it up, and you’ll be banned from your own wedding planning.”

“and i’ll be running the whole show,” shoko added, smirking. “trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

“fine, fine,” gojo sighed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “but you can’t deny that i have style.”

you glanced over at toji, trying to suppress your laughter. “so we’re really doing this?”

he shrugged, grinning. “apparently. might as well enjoy the circus. just remember, all i need is you, okay?”

gojo pretended to gag. “gross, i think i just tasted actual romance.”

“you’re just jealous, gojo,” shoko teased. “let the man have his moment.”

suguru smirked, patting gojo’s shoulder. “come on, let’s go look into the dragon fountain, yeah?”

gojo lit up, giving you and toji a thumbs-up. “this is gonna be the best day of your lives!”

you shook your head, feeling a mix of amusement and warmth as you watched them all bicker and plan in their chaotic way.

sure, maybe you didn’t need the dragon fountain or the live band or any of gojo’s grand ideas, but looking at everyone around you, you knew this was exactly the kind of crazy family you’d never trade for anything.

it was a whirlwind few months of planning, but in the end, everything started coming together…even if it took a little extra wrangling to keep gojo’s more eccentric ideas at bay.

first, there was the venue selection.

gojo initially wanted a “renaissance castle, with a giant moat and a drawbridge,” which, he claimed, would make a “stunning entrance.”

shoko quickly vetoed that. “this isn’t a medieval fair, satoru. we’re going for elegance here.”

then came the color scheme.

gojo suggested “electric blue and neon green,” which he swore was “super chic,” but after he received enough horrified stares, he reluctantly gave in.

the final choice?

muted blues and creams, which, as shoko put it, “won’t make the guests feel like they’re trapped in a laser tag arena.”

then there was the music situation.

“how about we have fien by travis scott for when you walk down the aisle?” gojo suggested with a grin, only half-joking.

“you want travis scott at the wedding?” you stared at him, incredulous.

toji looked equally appalled. “how about we play something that doesn’t have bass drops? we’re not clubbing.”

in the end, they settled on something classier — an instrumental piece by a local string quartet, though toji muttered about how the only reason he was going along with it was because it would make you happy. gojo had to be dragged out before he suggested sicko mode as the first dance song.

despite gojo’s quirks, megumi was probably the most eager of the group. every day at school, he proudly informed his teachers and classmates of the “big wedding coming up.”

and his absolute favorite title for you?

“oh, my mama’ll be here soon,” he announced one afternoon, shocking his teacher, who had only ever known him as the kid with a hot, single dad.

“your…mom?” she asked, blinking in confusion.

“yeah, she’s coming today.” he said it so matter-of-factly that by the time you actually arrived, half the class was already convinced you’d been hiding in the shadows for years.

and when you walked into the classroom, every pair of eyes turned toward you, wide and incredulous.

“uh, hi,” you greeted, awkwardly waving as megumi bounded up to you, gripping your hand with a proud grin. “this your class, megs?”

“mhm! this is my mama, everybody.” he announced it loud enough for everyone to hear, looking back at his teacher. “see? if you need anything, just talk to her!”

you exchanged an amused look with toji later that day. “our son,” you chuckled, “may or may not have given his teachers a heart attack.”

“good,” toji grinned, ruffling megumi’s hair. “let ’em wonder.”

the pre-wedding festivities were somehow even wilder.

gojo had gotten it into his head that he should coordinate the bachelor and bachelorette parties, because “who else could bring the flair?” to everyone’s surprise, he actually managed a tasteful, elegant evening — though he did keep his ‘last-minute party favors’ a surprise until the last second.

“here, just a little souvenir.” he handed out tiny, almost suspiciously pristine boxes.

inside? custom bobbleheads of you, toji, and yes — even megumi, wearing a tiny tuxedo.

toji, upon seeing his, just stared blankly. “satoru, why do i look like a discount action figure?”

“it’s a memento, buddy,” gojo laughed. “something you’ll cherish forever.”

“you’ll cherish it in your nightmares,” shoko muttered, chuckling as she pocketed hers.

then, finally, the day of the wedding arrived, a surprisingly classy affair thanks to shoko’s firm guidance and gojo’s slight restraint. and as you walked down the aisle with the string quartet playing softly, you looked out at everyone — megumi’s wide-eyed excitement, shoko’s small smile, suguru’s approving nod…and gojo, wiping a “single sassy tear” away as he mouthed, “this could’ve been fein.”

and as you met toji at the altar, his smile a mix of amusement and affection, you couldn’t help but be grateful for the beautiful chaos that had led you here.

the ceremony had a cozy warmth to it, one that settled in everyone’s chests as you and toji stood before each other, eyes locked, hands intertwined. but all of it nearly paled in comparison to the pride beaming from megumi’s little face. he stood off to the side, clutching the ring pillow with a mix of fierce concentration and excitement. his little hands gripped the pillow as if it were the most sacred artifact on earth.

“okay, megs,” toji whispered to him, giving a little nod. “it’s your moment, champ.”

megumi straightened up, lifting the pillow and marching toward you with all the poise of a seasoned soldier, chin up and shoulders squared. when he reached you, he stopped and gave an exaggerated bow, then held up the pillow with both hands.

“tall, just like i promised,” he whispered, looking up at toji with an earnest pride in his eyes. “i drank milk two times a day for this.”

you stifled a laugh as you took the ring from the pillow, smiling down at him. “all that milk’s paying off, huh?”

“mhm!” he beamed. “i think i’m taller already.” he gave a firm nod, looking satisfied with his growth, then shuffled back to stand with gojo and shoko, still watching the two of you intently.

toji grinned at him and turned back to you, holding your hands as he spoke his vows. his voice was steady, but you could see the faintest flicker of nerves — the soft, vulnerable side he only ever showed you.

“so,” he started, a little sheepishly. “i never thought i’d be the type to stand here, saying vows. but then i met you. first night we met, i figured you were just another person at a bar, and i’d never see you again. but then…you became everything. every single moment i’ve had since then, it’s all been better because you were there.”

you felt your heart clench as he continued, his voice soft but filled with a rare tenderness.

“i love you when you’re writing all those silly stories, when you’re with megumi, when you’re just…being you. and yeah, maybe ‘dancing queen’ playing in my head every time you walk in the room is cheesy, but… i’m a sucker for it.” he shrugged, his smile widening. “you make me a better man, even if i’m just a little rough around the edges.”

you couldn’t help the tear that slipped down your cheek as he finished, a gentle squeeze of his hands grounding you. it was your turn, and you took a shaky breath before starting, your voice full of affection.

“toji, i never thought…i’d be here, either. i spent my life writing about love, imagining it, but never really believing it was something i’d have for myself. and then you showed up.” you laughed softly, remembering the times you’d found yourself scribbling little details about him into your stories. “and now…i can’t imagine a world without you in it.”

toji’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as you continued.

“you taught me to be brave, to open up. you showed me what it means to love someone and be loved in return. you and megumi — you two are my family, and i’m so grateful to be a part of yours.” you paused, swallowing down the emotion in your throat. “and i promise, every day, to be there for you, to love you, and…to keep dancing with you, even when we’re old and gray.”

his grin widened, and he let out a small chuckle. “gray, huh? guess that’s something to look forward to.”

with the vows said, it was time for the rings. toji slipped the ring onto your finger, his hands a little shaky, and you did the same for him, feeling the weight of the moment settle in your chest.

and then, as you leaned in for the kiss, just as your lips met his, the opening notes of dancing queen began to play. you pulled back, eyes widening in disbelief, while toji stifled a laugh.

“oh, come on,” he whispered, trying to hide his amusement. “did you…did you plan this?”

“me?” you shook your head, glancing around as you caught gojo giving you a thumbs-up from the crowd, a wide grin on his face. he’d clearly orchestrated it somehow, probably having the dj on standby.

“you can dance, you can jive…” the music continued, filling the room with a cheerful, infectious energy that made you laugh as you hugged toji tightly.

“guess it’s our song now,” toji murmured, his forehead resting against yours as he held you close.

“always has been,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand.

and as the music played on, megumi sprinted over to you two, tugging on your hands. “dance! we’re supposed to dance now!”

toji scooped him up, holding him between you as the three of you swayed to the song, laughing as megumi did his best eight-year-old version of dancing, wiggling in toji’s arms with unabashed excitement.

“i think i did a good job as ring bearer, don’t you think?” he grinned, looking up at you both with pure pride.

“you did amazing, mumi,” you said, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“best ring bearer ever,” toji agreed, ruffling his hair. “all that milk really paid off.”

and as the night continued, filled with laughter, love, and a whole lot of dancing queen, you felt an overwhelming sense of joy that this was your family, your life, and the beginning of a lifetime of moments just like this one.

as you and toji stand together on the dance floor, the lights dimmed just enough to give it that perfect, romantic glow, everything felt like it was about to hit a new, sentimental level. the music was supposed to be soft, maybe perfect for a couple's dance — something wholesome and family-friendly to fit the moment. but then —

fein by travis scott. blaring.

you froze, eyes widening as the heavy bass dropped like a wrecking ball to your senses. this was not the song you had in mind for your first dance as a married couple.

your gaze shot toward gojo, who looked… guilty but also way too pleased with himself as he fumbled with his phone.

“oh, shit!” gojo muttered, his wide grin faltering as he scrambled to fix his mistake, his fingers slipping all over his phone’s screen. “uh, my bad! wrong song, sorry — just — uh — lemme —”

before he could finish, you heard a loud “FUCK!” from across the room, followed by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. suguru, looking oddly alarmed, had clearly noticed too. you had to hand it to him, though, gojo at least looked mildly embarrassed for the first time that night.

satoru’s hands flew over his phone with the sort of intensity one might reserve for disarming a bomb. “wait, wait, i got this. i’ll fix it — i’m so sorry — one second —”

as if the universe was playing along with your horror, gojo accidentally hit play on fein again, the heavy, thumping beat continuing in the background as you and toji both exchanged a bewildered glance. you could feel the burning heat creeping into your cheeks.

“that’s the one?” you whispered to toji, your voice barely audible over the beat.

toji tried to stifle a laugh, clearly more amused than shocked. “well, it’s something.”

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, your head turning toward megumi, who was looking at you with wide eyes. “what’s his excuse?” you asked with a sarcastic eyebrow raise, pointing at the very loud song still playing.

megumi, standing off to the side with a cocktail of confusion and excitement, crossed his arms and gave you a very serious look. “uncle gojo played this song,” he announced with pride, causing everyone to stop and stare.

“you know, at the bachel-her party.”

the room went silent for a brief, awkward second as the realization hit everyone. a few chuckles broke out, with a mix of surprised snickers and a couple of “well, that explains things.”

you could barely suppress a laugh. you were so not ready for that bombshell.

toji’s face went from amused to fully amused, his lips curling into an undeniable grin. “yup,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear, giving a shrug. “that’s our song, apparently.”

gojo, finally managing to switch the song, looked over with actual concern now. “oh god, oh god, i’m so sorry — i swear, i didn’t mean for fein to be — ugh.” he slapped his hand to his forehead.

“okay, okay, i’m fixing it —”

there was another flurry of frantic finger taps as gojo went into full damage control mode. finally, as the last few beats of fein faded out, gojo hit play on iris by the goo goo dolls, the gentle, familiar melody washing over the room like a sigh of relief.

you and toji exchanged a knowing glance, now suddenly locked in a much calmer atmosphere. the song that toji had actually requested was finally playing, and as he pulled you closer, your heart settled.

“better?” toji asked, pulling you into the rhythm of the song.

“much better,” you whispered with a sigh, your lips brushing against his.

meanwhile, megumi, clearly thrilled by his earlier announcement, grinned ear-to-ear. “this is the song! mama and daddy kissed to this song!”

and at that, you could only chuckle. what a night, you thought to yourself, completely unsure if you’d ever get used to the chaos that surrounded you, but not really minding it one bit.

as the soft notes of iris continue to play, toji pulls you close, his hand resting warm and steady at the small of your back. you sway together, feeling every beat, every strum of the guitar wrapping around the both of you like the sweetest memory.

“so,” toji murmurs, a little smirk tugging at his lips as he looks down at you, “do i still get to be a heartthrob now that we’re hitched?”

you chuckle, rolling your eyes playfully. “only if i still get to be the girl with the cringe smut,” you say, barely holding back a laugh as you remember the early days of your writing.

“you’ve made peace with the fact that your wife has a, uh… let’s just say colorful bibliography?”

toji’s eyes crinkle with amusement. “you kidding? i brag about it. ‘you know my girl? bestseller, faceless author, author of all those spicy scenes.’ you think it’s cringe; i think it’s hot.”

you snort. “you’re impossible. i still remember you giving me the most unimpressed look when you found out what i actually wrote about.”

“hey, i was surprised,” he defends, grinning as he twirls you out and back into his arms. “who knew the girl who pukes on people’s shoes was writing, uh, dragon-king-mating scenes?”

“oh, hush,” you laugh, feeling your cheeks heat. “i told you, it’s a metaphor for forbidden love and courage in the face of adversity.”

“yeah, sure, it’s all about the ‘courage,’” he teases, leaning in close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath on your forehead. “all i’m saying is, those scenes of yours? they’re, uh, kinda what won me over.”

you hide your face in his shoulder, feeling a happy flush spread across your cheeks as you sway together under the soft glow of the lights. “guess it’s too late to be embarrassed, huh?”

he tilts your chin up with a gentle finger, his gaze softer than you’ve ever seen it. “it’s what made you you. wouldn’t change a thing about it.”

the song swells around you, and as the lyrics hit their most tender line, toji leans down, brushing his lips against yours, a sweet, slow kiss that feels like the first all over again. when you part, he grins, shaking his head. “damn… still can’t believe i got lucky enough to make you mine.”

“only took a few months, a few trolls, and a lot of questionable genre choices,” you say, snickering.

“and one too many ‘dancing queen’ sing-alongs,” he adds, laughing softly.

as the song fades, the two of you stand there for a moment longer, gazing at each other, just happy, laughing, and a little teary-eyed.

the night is winding down, and as you and toji make your rounds to say goodbye, a familiar cluster of chaos catches your attention. gojo, shoko, and geto have managed to gather near the dragon-shaped chocolate fountain, each of them clearly feeling the effects of the open bar in different ways.

megumi is standing with them, arms crossed, his small face set in a dead-serious expression that would have been almost intimidating… if he wasn’t standing beside a towering chocolate dragon, looking very much like a tiny mob boss supervising his drunk henchmen.

“ahem.” gojo clears his throat, squinting dramatically up at the chocolate dragon, hand pressed to his heart. “‘and so, the beast gazed upon the fair maiden, his molten eyes devouring her with a hunger so fierce, the very heavens trembled —’”

you choke back a laugh as toji groans under his breath, muttering, “for the love of god, not this.”

“that’s one of your lines, isn’t it?” shoko says, smirking as she precariously holds her cigarette in one hand and a half-empty wine glass in the other. “gojo’s been quoting it all night.”

“that’s from the mating scene!” megumi exclaims, clearly unaware of the implications. “that’s where the dragon’s supposed to eat —”

“aaaannd let’s maybe not finish that line, huh?” toji interrupts quickly, clapping a hand over his son’s mouth.

gojo winks, wagging a finger. “hey, let the kid express himself! it’s culture, toji. classic literature!”

“uh, yeah. classic,” you say, trying not to snort as gojo raises his glass to the dragon fountain like he’s toasting it.

geto, meanwhile, is slumped against the fountain, head lolling to the side. he’s still upright — barely — but he looks like he might be one sip away from face-planting into the chocolate.

“persephone wines, my beloved…” he mutters, raising his empty glass before letting it drop with a sigh. “sweet nectar of the gods.”

shoko snickers, jabbing him in the shoulder. “lightweight.”

“am not,” geto mumbles, eyes half-closed. “i’m… selectively conscious.”

“selectively conscious?” toji repeats, eyebrows raised.

“he means he’s out cold but doesn’t want to admit it,” shoko says, shrugging as she lifts her cigarette to her lips, only to nearly dip it in her wine glass instead.

“don’t mix your drink with your smokes, shoko,” gojo warns, chuckling. “unless you’re going for that extra flavor.”

“yeah, yeah,” she grumbles, carefully balancing the cigarette away from the wine glass. “why does this fountain look like it’s judging me?”

“because it’s a dragon, and dragons don’t approve of your vices,” gojo says, patting her shoulder with exaggerated sympathy. “they are noble, chaste beasts.”

“then why’d it drink all the wine?” shoko deadpans, gesturing to the near-empty fountain where the wine had been topped off earlier.

meanwhile, megumi, still solemn, looks up at toji with wide eyes. “daddy, i don’t think uncle geto’s feeling well.”

“nah, kid, he’s… he’s just really appreciating the art of, uh, selective consciousness,” toji says, ruffling megumi’s hair.

gojo swoops down, putting his hands on megumi’s shoulders. “you’re absolutely right, young megumi. you know, you have a strong sense of observation. very wise of you.”

“thanks,” megumi says, puffing his chest up, as if the compliment has suddenly made him five years older. he looks over at geto.

“uncle geto, are you gonna fall asleep now?”

geto waves a lazy hand in the air. “nah, i’m just… uh… recharging.” he attempts to give a thumbs up, but it’s more of a half-hearted flop.

toji sighs, looking at you with a smirk. “we’ve gotta start taking megumi to different family gatherings.”

you grin back, watching as megumi, with utmost seriousness, turns to shoko. “don’t let your cigarette fall in your wine, auntie shoko. it’ll taste funny.”

shoko salutes him, barely holding in a laugh. “don’t worry, kid. i got it handled.”

just then, gojo raises his glass to the chocolate dragon again. “to the majestic beast, who has blessed us with chocolate and a fountain! long may it reign!”

“it’s a fountain, not a king,” megumi says, frowning. “and it’s chocolate, not magic.”

“ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, my young padawan,” gojo says with mock seriousness, kneeling down to megumi’s height. “tonight, everything is magic.” he waves a hand around as if he’s casting a spell, and megumi’s eyes widen, half-believing him, even as he tries to stay serious.

toji rolls his eyes, laughing. “all right, let’s wrap this up before someone thinks you’re actually casting spells on my kid, gojo.”

as you lead megumi back, he tugs on your hand, whispering, “mama, are they always this… funny?”

“always,” you whisper back, grinning. “but don’t tell them that. we’ll just let them think they’re profound.”

“okay,” megumi whispers, stifling a giggle as he steals one last glance at the chocolate dragon.

the night’s finally winding down, and somehow, all of you have ended up sprawled in the open venue like you’re camping under the stars. shoko’s leaning back in her chair, taking a deep drag of her cigarette, but she keeps glancing at megumi, who’s sitting between you and toji and nodding off in your lap, his little head bobbing up and down.

“you know, i’m not trying to be a bad influence,” shoko mutters, trying to angle her cigarette away. “but it’s hard being an icon.”

toji smirks, watching her struggle. “yeah, we all know you’re a real role model, shoko. a true beacon of health and wellness.”

“hey, i’ll have you know i haven’t let this thing drop once tonight,” she says, demonstrating by carefully holding it at a ridiculous angle. “takes precision.”

meanwhile, geto’s leaning against the chocolate fountain — completely passed out, slumped over like he’s waiting for the chocolate to baptize him. you can already see a smear on his collar where it’s dripped, and it’s only a matter of time before it’s all over him.

“is he just gonna… sleep there?” you ask, stifling a laugh as you glance at geto’s chocolate-streaked suit.

gojo, lying on the grass like he’s sunbathing, starts belting out, “she thought it was the ocean, it’s just the pool —”

“oh god,” toji groans, “don’t tell me you’re singing sicko mode right now, gojo.”

“don’t disrespect a banger, toji,” gojo says, eyes closed, waving his hands around like he’s conducting an invisible orchestra. “this is the music of our generation.”

shoko snorts, blowing smoke out of the corner of her mouth. “what generation is that? ‘trashy late twenties’?”

“more like ‘perpetual adolescence,’” you add, trying not to laugh too loud, lest you wake megumi.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” gojo mumbles, now onto the next verse and fully invested. “i am the culture.”

toji raises his eyebrows, giving you a look. “i don’t remember ‘culture�� looking this drunk.”

“or this dramatic,” you reply, glancing over at geto. “do you think he’ll wake up covered in chocolate?”

“oh, definitely,” toji says, nodding with mock seriousness. “he’ll be sticky for days.”

“wonder what he’ll tell people when they ask about it,” you say, grinning.

“just gotta tell them it’s part of the, uh, life experience,” shoko says, flicking ash off her cigarette. “you know — ‘don’t go to weddings with chocolate fountains.’”

“or uncles with questionable song choices,” toji adds, glancing at gojo.

“excuse me,” gojo slurs, sitting up to squint at you both. “my taste is immaculate.”

megumi stirs, blinking up at you with sleepy eyes. “why’s uncle gojo yelling?”

“he’s not yelling, sweetheart,” you say, petting his hair as he leans back against you. “he’s just… expressing himself.”

“in a way that makes us all wish we were deaf,” toji adds under his breath.

gojo points a finger, swaying slightly. “hey, the kid gets it. you get it, right, megumi?”

megumi yawns, nodding seriously. “i get it, uncle gojo.”

“see?” gojo says, looking triumphant as he turns back to you all, gesturing like he’s just won an argument. “my number one fan.”

shoko rolls her eyes, snubbing her cigarette out and pulling out another. “well, congrats on your massive fanbase.”

megumi glances at you, then at gojo sprawled out on the grass. “is uncle geto gonna be okay?”

you look over at geto, still fast asleep, chocolate slowly trickling down his sleeve. “yeah, honey, he’s fine. just a little… messy.”

“very messy,” toji agrees, chuckling. “just… don’t touch his suit when he wakes up. he might, uh, have some sticky spots.”

megumi nods sagely, as if absorbing some profound wisdom. “got it, daddy.”

gojo squints up at the sky, suddenly philosophical. “you know, someday, this kid is gonna be sitting here with us, yelling sicko mode with his whole heart.”

toji raises an eyebrow. “oh, over my dead body.”

“and shoko will still be lecturing us about cigarette angles,” you add.

shoko raises her glass. “as long as this fountain keeps flowing, i’m here, people.”

you and toji exchange a glance, each of you feeling a little warmth at the ridiculous, messy sight in front of you: shoko trying not to ash on megumi, gojo doing terrible karaoke on the grass, and geto about to wake up covered in chocolate.

“found family, huh?” you murmur, nudging toji.

“the best kind,” he says, slinging an arm around you and giving you a soft smile. “drunk as they may be.”

the hour finally ticks to a close, and as much as you’re all reluctant to end the night, it’s time to gather your things — and your people. the first challenge: waking up suguru, who, by this point, is practically glued to the chocolate fountain.

“alright, gojo,” toji says, clapping him on the shoulder, “time to work that charm of yours and wake him up.”

gojo, slightly wobbly himself, crouches down beside suguru and starts lightly patting his face. “rise and shine, buddy,” he says, voice soft but persistent. “time to say goodbye to your chocolate fountain dreams.”

suguru stirs, eyes fluttering open, and as he groggily lifts his arm, he finally notices the chocolate smeared from his shoulder to his wrist. his eyes widen in absolute horror.

“wha… why am i covered in —”

“chooccoolate!” gojo singsongs, smirking.

and then, in a flash of inspiration (or tipsy madness), he starts singing, “i get those goosebumps every time —”

suguru visibly cringes, letting out a low groan as he struggles to stand. “i swear, satoru, if you keep singing travis scott, i’m never inviting you to another wedding.”

“but you’re never getting married, suguru,” shoko points out dryly, lighting her cigarette with a sly grin.

toji and you exchange a look as suguru desperately tries to wipe chocolate off his shirt with the tiniest napkin available. meanwhile, gojo’s at his side, still humming “goosebumps,” ignoring every glare suguru shoots his way.

“satoru, i’m going to kill you,” suguru mumbles, half-heartedly, as he inspects the damage.

gojo just shrugs, beaming. “c’mmoonn, sugu boo. who else can say they’ve bathed in chocolate at a wedding?”

suguru gives a low growl, eyeing gojo’s still-grinning face. “considering how close you are to me right now, it might be your last experience.”

“oh, lighten up, chocolate boy,” gojo teases, attempting to wipe some of the chocolate off suguru’s cheek with his sleeve. “besides, what’s a wedding without a little mess?”

megumi, watching this exchange with wide eyes, tugs on your sleeve. “mama, do all weddings end like this?”

you chuckle, ruffling his hair. “only the good ones, sweetheart.”

as you finally start herding everyone out, suguru’s still muttering darkly about chocolate-stained suits and “inappropriate” song choices, while gojo is just barely resisting the urge to belt out the next verse of goosebumps.

“you guys are a mess,” toji says, shaking his head with a smile, his arm around you. “but i guess i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“same here,” you reply, smiling back. “same here.”

all of you pile into the limo, grateful for suguru’s one stroke of foresight, booking this ride while everyone was still sober. as you maneuver your wedding dress inside, megumi insists on climbing onto your lap, declaring with all the authority of an eight-year-old, “mama knows how to hold me right.” he gives toji a pointed look, as if his dad’s lap-sitting skills just aren’t up to par.

“excuse me, kid,” toji grumbles, adjusting his position to give you both more space. “i think i know a thing or two about carrying you. who else makes you pancakes every sunday?”

megumi shrugs, completely unfazed. “pancakes are great, daddy, but mama gives better cuddles.”

you stifle a laugh, giving toji a look of faux pity. “don’t take it personally,” you say with a grin. “he’s right, after all.”

suguru, meanwhile, is eyeing your dress with near-maniacal caution, inching away as if any move might accidentally graze you with chocolate. “i swear,” he mutters, inspecting his own suit for stray smudges, “if this dress ends up looking like a chocolate fountain threw up on it, i’m sending blondie the dry-cleaning bill.”

“hey!” gojo’s leaning halfway out of his seat, one arm slung dramatically around shoko, who looks five seconds away from needing a cigarette fix. “don’t bring me into this! i’m innocent in all things chocolate.”

“satoru, you literally shoved my face into it,” suguru deadpans, “and serenaded me while you did it.”

gojo waves this off, now onto more important matters as he leans in and rambles, “you know, what’s really baffling is political and economical state of the world right now. that’s the real travesty here. and i’m telling you, if they’d just let me —”

shoko groans, pressing her head against the window. “does anyone have a cigarette? please? my kingdom for a cigarette.”

“sorry, shoko,” you say, chuckling. “think of it as part of the wedding cleanse experience.”

as the limo cruises through the city streets, carrying your chaotic found family toward your new home — the fushiguro household, now your household — you lean back, looking around at everyone. suguru, still chocolate-stained but pretending he’s fine; gojo in full-on philosophical mode about everything from global warming to city planning; shoko, pressing her hands together in mock-prayer for a nicotine miracle; and megumi, snug and content in your lap, his eyelids growing heavy as he fights off sleep.

toji catches your eye and reaches over, intertwining his hand with yours, a soft smile gracing his face. “ready to make this house our home?” he murmurs.

you squeeze his hand, taking in the laughter, the exhaustion, and the overwhelming happiness filling the limo. “more than ready,” you say, your heart swelling as you look around at this motley crew you wouldn’t trade for anything.

it’s a mad, loud family, but it’s yours.

as everyone practically spills out of the limo, gojo’s in full swing with the limo driver, pressing a crumpled wad of cash into the poor man’s hand.

“no, no, you don’t get it, dude,” gojo slurs, with a look of utmost sincerity. “this — this is not just money. this is… appreciation. this is the currency of human kindness.” he pats the driver on the shoulder, swaying a bit as he leans closer. “use it wisely… maybe buy yourself a castle. or a yacht. or a little… dog. something that’s life-changing.”

the driver gives an awkward thumbs-up, flashing a quick glance at the rest of you, clearly wondering if he needs to call someone to get gojo home safely.

meanwhile, toji’s already wrangling everyone toward the door, shoko dashing past him the moment the suite door opens. “please tell me you still keep an emergency stash,” she says, practically sprinting toward the mini bar. “for my sanity.”

“yeah, yeah, knock yourself out,” toji mutters, eyeing the chaos that’s just ambled into his home. as he does, megumi somehow finds himself perched on gojo’s shoulder, practically screeching as gojo does a wobbly loop around the living room, giggling, “it’s cuddle time! everyone needs to embrace the love!”

“uncle gojo, put me down!” megumi’s half-exasperated, half-amused as he tries to wriggle free. “i don’t need cuddles, okay?”

gojo gasps as if megumi’s words are a personal affront. “excuse me? everyone needs cuddles! it’s essential for growth! and happiness! don’t deny yourself, little one.”

suguru slumps onto the sofa, still blinking himself awake from his chocolate coma. but unfortunately, his landing spot is also where a chunk of melted chocolate has found its new home.

he sighs in defeat, barely lifting his hand to wave at toji. “i swear i didn’t bring the chocolate here. it… it followed me.”

toji’s had just about enough. “alright, everybody, listen up.” he points at gojo, megumi, and suguru, who all look up like chastened kids caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“before any of you touch anything else in my suite — or each other — go change. now.”

“but i am changed,” gojo protests, arms flailing out as if to display his wrinkled suit as high fashion.

“changed by the power of love. and a little bit of persephone wines, which, by the way —”

“clothes, satoru,” toji says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he ushers everyone down the hall. “as in, ones that aren’t covered in alcohol, chocolate, or other questionable substances.”

megumi looks up at you, tugging on your dress. “do i have to change too? ‘cause i’m fine just like this.”

you smile down at him, patting his messy little head. “just pajamas, okay? then we can all cuddle up on the big bed. sound good?”

“okay, mama!” he says, darting off to grab his pjs, excitement back at full force. “hurry up, everyone! daddy said so!”

as you and toji finally manage to herd everyone toward the bedrooms and out of their various states of disaster, you can’t help but laugh. this, somehow, is the perfect end to your wedding night — a makeshift family piled up in a cozy heap, as unconventional and chaotic as ever, but perfectly yours.

in megumi’s room, you and shoko finally get a chance to breathe, away from the chaos. you pull out one of toji’s oversized shirts and a pair of shorts, feeling instantly cozy as the familiar scent of him settles around you.

meanwhile, shoko slips into a t-shirt of yours and some spare leggings you’d left for nights just like this — megumi’s last-minute “you have to stay!” pleas that always won you over.

as shoko pulls the t-shirt down, smoothing it over her frame, she gives you a little smirk. “well, don’t we look like a couple of sleepover queens?”

“only the best for auntie shoko,” you say, giving her a playful nudge.

shoko rolls her eyes, leaning back against megumi’s wall. “speaking of… i was thinking.” she pauses, letting out a sigh, her fingers absently running through her hair.

“maybe i could… y’know, try and cut down on the smokes. for megumi. last thing i want is him being a passive smoker every time ’m around.”

you smile at her, feeling a swell of warmth at the thought. “oh, shoko. you don’t have to change anything for him — he already adores you just the way you are.”

“yeah, but…” she shrugs, looking down at her hands, uncharacteristically shy. “i wanna be around. y’know? like, really around. and if that means giving up a little bit of my precious nicotine, then…” she huffs, as if the idea is both noble and annoying. “then i’ll do it. for him. but only because he’s the cutest kid i know.”

“you’re really going soft on me here,” you tease, watching her with a grin.

she laughs, nudging your shoulder. “don’t get used to it. i’ll still talk trash about satoru and his ‘save the world’ speeches every chance i get. but…” she pauses, catching your eye with a slight smirk.

“i don’t know, this whole… you and toji thing, it’s made me think a little differently. like, maybe i could be the cool aunt without corrupting the kid entirely.”

you chuckle, nodding. “hey, a little bit of corruption isn’t the worst thing. but i know what you mean. it’s nice, isn’t it? having this… makeshift family?”

“nice? it’s downright ridiculous,” shoko scoffs, but her eyes are soft. “i mean, i spent the last hour watching suguru melt into a chocolate-covered mess and satoru wax poetic to the limo driver, all while toji was trying to keep from strangling the lot of us. and now here we are, pretending to be responsible adults.”

“that’s the beauty of it, though,” you laugh. “none of us really knows what we’re doing, but somehow it just… works.”

shoko smiles at that, a real, genuine smile, her usual sarcasm melting away for just a moment. “well, whatever it is, i’m in. auntie shoko, reporting for duty. megumi’s gonna be spoiled out of his mind, and if anyone tries to mess with him, they’ll have to go through me first.”

you laugh, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze. “he’s lucky to have you.”

“nope,” she says, leaning in and bumping her forehead against yours. “we’re all lucky to have each other.”

there’s a comfortable silence, the two of you just sharing the moment in a quiet way that doesn’t need any more words. a kind of unspoken understanding hangs in the air, one that only comes from years of friendship and late-night heart-to-hearts like this.

and as you both start to head out, you catch her glancing back at megumi’s room with a soft expression, the tiniest hint of a smile lingering on her lips.

down in toji’s room, it was another brand of chaos entirely. gojo was sprawled across the bed, bouncing his leg impatiently as he kept knocking — more like pounding — on the bathroom door.

“yo, ruru! you still smell like a candy shop in there, or are you finally coming out as a functioning human?” gojo called, knocking for what felt like the tenth time.

inside the bathroom, suguru groaned, scrubbing furiously at his arms. “if you knock one more time, satoru, i swear, i will dunk you in a vat of chocolate and make you regret the day you were born.”

gojo cackled, delighted. “you’d have to catch me first, chocolate boy.”

meanwhile, toji was across the room with megumi, helping him into his little pajamas. megumi stood still as his dad tugged his pajama top over his head, looking up with big eyes.

“daddy?” he asked, his voice soft and a little curious.

toji glanced down, smiling. “yeah, kiddo?”

megumi fidgeted with the hem of his pajamas. “does mama get to stay forever now?”

toji’s face softened, and he crouched down to look megumi in the eye, his hand gently ruffling his son’s dark hair. “yeah, bud. she’s with us now. part of our family for good.”

megumi’s eyes lit up, and he tried to stand even taller — he was growing, after all. “so she’ll be here when i wake up every day?”

toji chuckled, nodding. “every day. and every night too, so you don’t have to worry about anything. she’s with us.”

megumi nodded seriously, like he was processing the weight of it all. “i gotta make sure i don’t mess up then.”

toji raised an eyebrow, surprised. “mess up? why do you think you’d mess up?”

“well… i wanna make her happy too,” megumi admitted, glancing down. “like you do.”

toji’s heart melted a little as he hugged his son tightly. “listen, kid. you being you? that’s more than enough to make her happy. trust me.”

megumi looked up, reassured. “okay. i’ll be the best son ever, promise.”

“you already are,” toji said, smiling.

right then, gojo’s voice cut through the father-son moment as he yelled through the bathroom door yet again. “suguurruu! come on, we’re all waiting! we’re a family, we’ve got things to discuss, like who’s picking the next karaoke song, and why it absolutely has to be ‘freak on a leash.’”

suguru yelled back, voice echoing through the bathroom, “for the last time, i’m not doing karaoke, satoru! and if you don’t let me scrub off this chocolate smell in peace, you’re gonna be next!”

toji sighed, shaking his head as he looked down at megumi. “and that,” he said with a smirk, “is the family you’re stuck with now, kid.”

megumi grinned. “good. i think they’re funny.”

“funny’s one word for it.”

the morning after the wedding was supposed to be calm and slow, but the second megumi padded down the hall, any hopes of quiet went straight out the window.

"mama, dad, i gotta go to school!" he said, trying to sound all responsible but still rubbing sleep from his eyes. he even brought his backpack to your room, a whole mini-adult, as if that would magically make everyone get out of bed faster.

toji groaned, wrapping an arm around you to keep you in bed. "can’t he just... skip?" he muttered into his pillow, half-asleep.

before you could answer, an all-too-loud, way-too-enthusiastic voice boomed from the hall.

"time to shine, future valedictorian!" gojo practically sung, bursting through the door in last night’s slightly wrinkled suit, sunglasses on, and his smile at full wattage.

behind him, shoko and geto shuffled in, looking equally disheveled and far too awake for this hour. shoko held up her coffee like it was a badge of honor, and geto just nodded, bleary-eyed, clearly not yet regretting his life choices.

"so," shoko said, pointing to megumi with her coffee mug, "we’re taking the kid to school. it’s what, like, a fifteen-minute trip?"

“yeah,” you mumbled, not even fully awake yet. "are... are you guys seriously doing this?"

megumi's face lit up like christmas. “really? in the limo?” he looked over at his dad with big, excited eyes. "i’ve only ever been dropped off by daddy before, mama.”

toji mumbled something that sounded like, "don't tell your teachers i’m lazy," and rolled back over, pretending to go back to sleep.

"don’t worry," gojo said, waving it off. "cool uncle 1, cool uncle 2, and cool aunty got this."

megumi was practically vibrating with excitement as he tugged shoko’s hand. “can we leave now? pleeeaseeee?"

shoko raised an eyebrow at you and toji. “guess that’s a ‘no’ on you two getting up?”

toji waved them off, still face-planted in his pillow. “take him. we trust you… mostly.”

the limo looked ridiculous in front of the modest little school building.

every teacher on duty stared as gojo stepped out in yesterday’s clothes, still wearing his sunglasses, dramatically opening the door for megumi like he was some hollywood star.

geto leaned out of the window, waving. “our megumi, ladies and gents! future ceo, dragon whisperer, and… what is he into now? legos?”

“legos and iron man,” shoko supplied from the backseat, sipping her coffee and grinning like this was the most fun she’d had in weeks.

megumi hopped out, beaming, as if this was the normal way eight-year-olds arrived at school. "see ya later, cool uncles and aunty!" he called, and waved back at them as he headed up the steps.

one of the teachers, looking absolutely bewildered, approached gojo. "uh, sir? are you megumi’s… guardian?"

gojo held a hand over his heart, like he was moved. "oh, i’m his honorary uncle. the honored one. very honored. super honored. we’re just doing our part as responsible adults, you know?”

shoko snorted from the car. “yeah, responsible adults. let’s not tell his dad about the chocolate fountain incident from last night.”

“or the fact that geto’s gonna have to reupholster his couch,” geto muttered, barely holding back a laugh.

meanwhile, megumi turned back one last time and yelled, “tell mama and daddy i said bye!”

gojo saluted. “will do, young sir! now go conquer the day!”

they all watched him walk in, looking like a pint-sized executive in his little backpack. as soon as the doors closed behind him, shoko sighed. “alright, now who’s up for coffee? because i’m still running on fumes.”

"coffee?" geto asked, deadpan. "we’re gonna need a gallon of it if we’re keeping up with that kid."

as the limo pulled away, gojo turned to them with a grin. “you know, i think we make an excellent drop-off crew.”

“mmhm,” shoko said dryly, shaking her head. “i’m sure the teachers would totally agree.”

as the limo pulled away from the school, gojo, shoko, and geto leaned back in their seats, stretching out like they’d just wrapped up a grueling mission.

“alriiight,” gojo said, kicking his feet up, “where are we headed for breakfast, my esteemed colleagues in chaos?”

“anywhere that’s not serving chicken nuggets or juice boxes,” shoko muttered, eyes barely open behind her sunglasses. “and somewhere with unlimited coffee, because if i have to function at nine in the morning, i need caffeine by the gallon.”

geto chuckled, shaking his head. “how is it that we’re the ones going out for breakfast after crashing their wedding?” he looked at gojo, grinning. “and how are they the ones staying home?”

gojo smirked, crossing his legs. “we’re giving them the gift of peace and quiet. i bet toji’s loving the chance to stay in bed with his lovely wife, all cozy and uninterrupted.”

shoko snorted, leaning over with a conspiratorial grin. “give them fifteen minutes max before they realize we took the limo and left them stranded.”

“oh, toji’s probably still asleep,” geto said, waving her off. “and if not, he’s probably thinking we’re doing him a favor. don’t forget, we’re the ‘cool’ uncles and aunty. we’re just out here, uh…” he paused, raising a brow, “fulfilling our responsibilities.”

gojo cackled. “yeah, we’re absolutely winning the ‘best support system’ award this year.” he held up an imaginary award plaque. “and the winner for best, most responsible friends goes to… the limo crew!”

shoko took a sip of her coffee, laughing. “you’re just mad you didn’t get to be the one carrying y/n in her dress down the aisle yesterday.”

“hey!” gojo gasped, mock-offended. “i was ready, okay? i would’ve been the perfect escort. i even practiced the, you know —“ he mimed holding someone dramatically in his arms. “but no, she insisted on doing it herself.”

geto rolled his eyes, grinning. “it’s her wedding, satoru.”

“yeah, yeah, i know,” gojo said, waving it off. “but it was cute seeing him get all sentimental.” he put on a comically deep voice, imitating toji. “‘come on, baby, we’re gonna go build our life together,’” he said, making exaggerated romantic gestures. “like, okay, toji, way to set the bar high for the rest of us.”

shoko grinned, nudging geto. “hey, suguru, you taking notes? maybe one day you’ll be saying those sappy lines to your wife.”

geto laughed, blushing a bit. “hey, let’s keep the heat on toji, alright? no need to make me the topic of conversation here.”

gojo raised a hand dramatically. “oh, don’t worry, we’ll keep it on toji. like how he’s always acting like mr. tough guy, but the second y/n looks at him with those puppy eyes, he’s suddenly mr. marshmallow.”

“he’s such a marshmallow,” shoko agreed, laughing. “he’ll deny it till the end, but you know he’d do anything for her. i mean, the man threatened a chocolate fountain for her yesterday.”

“let’s not forget he almost punched the caterer over the dessert display,” geto added, grinning. “and that was after he demanded only the best for the ‘mother of his child.’”

gojo clasped his hands together, putting on a dreamy look. “ugh, true love. what an inspiration.”

they all shared a laugh, shaking their heads at the image of toji as the world’s biggest softie for you, his new bride. the limo pulled up to a cute little cafe, and gojo leaned out of the window, calling, “table for the three most responsible adults in town, please!”

as they piled out, geto chuckled. “we are absolutely going to milk this ‘responsible adult’ title all morning.”

“oh, absolutely,” shoko said, walking in. “and i’ll need a bottomless coffee just to keep it going.”

they slid into a booth, ordering way too much coffee and breakfast, ready to dig into a morning full of laughter, snarky jokes, and ridiculous stories.

“to toji and y/n,” gojo toasted, holding up his coffee mug. “may they never know the horrors we’ve saved them from.”

“cheers to that,” shoko said, grinning.

tag: @elysian-chaos @lemonlimecrystal-blog @crunchyholo @cheesecakebroom @inthedarkshadows000 @amayaaaxx @sweetsformysoul @vitoshi @qyuin @mypashionisforfashion @crocodilethesir @starmapz @kyokoyya @lauuriiiz @ciexuvia @blubearxy @coffee-and-geto @lveegsoi @yuminako @cipher-needs-2-sleep

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oceandolores · 2 days ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 21

dbf!joel miller x female reader

"If we died tonight, I'd die yours,"

summary: joel found you

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 21

masterlist!

previous | chapter 20

The cold seeped into your bones, icy and unyielding against the concrete floor, and you could feel every bruise, every cut, every ache in your body.

The pain was an unrelenting, throbbing reminder of everything you’d endured, but that wasn’t the worst part. What tore at you now was the horror of seeing Emma, your best friend, taken from this world in a way you wouldn’t have believed possible had you not witnessed it with your own eyes.

Her life, her laughter, her warmth—gone. Because of you.

A sob caught in your throat as the weight of it crushed you. Emma hadn’t deserved this; she had a whole life stretched out before her, full of hope and love.

She had just started it, a new chapter, a new promise. And now, because she’d tried to save you, it had ended in unimaginable horror. The images wouldn’t leave you, wouldn’t stop replaying in your mind.

Jim—God, he was probably gone too. Gone, because of you.

Desperation clawed at your chest, leaving you empty and hollow. You could feel yourself slipping, hope draining out of you like a slow bleed, and something bitter was taking its place.

A deep, aching question clawed at the edges of your mind, one you’d never dared ask before, but one that refused to stay silent any longer:

Why would God let this happen to you?

You’d loved Him, stayed faithful, tried to be everything you were taught you should be. And yet, here you were, in the darkest pit, left to rot.

Why?

Tears blurred your vision, and somewhere between the sobs and the silence, you felt something break inside you.

You stopped praying, stopped hoping for anything good. The words, the comfort, the promises—all of it felt hollow.

You were empty now, just a shell of everything you once believed.

The door creaked open, and in he came—Negan, his footsteps echoing like the toll of a death knell. He looked at you, pity mingling with something else in his gaze, a twisted satisfaction.

A smirk tugged at his lips, and he shook his head, his voice dripping with mocking sympathy.

“Aw, look at you,” he cooed.

“See, doll, I didn’t want it to come to this. But you had to go and make things difficult. If you’d just listened to me—if you’d been my good girl—none of this would’ve happened.”

The rage bubbled up, scalding and raw. You looked at him, every ounce of hatred burning in your eyes. “What did you do to her?” The words barely made it past the tightness in your throat, but they were laced with venom.

You could feel it, the sickening truth—whatever he’d done, it was something worse than you could imagine.

Negan chuckled, an unholy sound that made your skin crawl. “Don’t you worry about her,” he said, a dark glint in his eye.

“I took real good care of her.” The words lingered, taunting, but before you could say anything more, he pulled a medical kit from his bag, the glint of a syringe catching your eye.

Panic shot through you, and you scrambled backward, heart pounding. “Don’t… don’t touch me!"

Negan’s eyes softened, his tone suddenly too gentle, too calm. “Relax, princess,” he murmured, reaching for your arm. “I just need you to play along for a bit.”

But you jerked back, thrashing against his grip. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Your voice cracked, fueled by the horror churning in your chest, the feeling of his hand on your skin like a brand.

The gentle smile on his face vanished, replaced by a cold, dangerous stare. His grip tightened, bruising, and in one swift motion, he struck you across the face, the impact leaving stars in your vision.

“Listen to me, you stupid little bitch,” he hissed, his voice low and deadly. “I’m done asking nicely. You’re going to be a good girl and do as I say, or you’re going to wish you had.”

You barely registered the sting of the needle as he plunged it into your arm. The world began to blur, darkness creeping in from the edges, and you fought it, clawing for consciousness, desperate not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble.

But the drug took hold fast, dragging you down, down, until the world was nothing but darkness.

***

The address Negan gave led Joel to an unassuming neighborhood, quiet and tucked away, where homes lined the street like silent sentries.

Everything here was normal, almost obscenely so, and the ordinariness of it all set his nerves on edge. How could something so terrible be hiding behind these closed doors?

How could neighbors go about their days, clueless to the horror lurking so close? He took a long, deep breath, steeling himself, fingers grazing over the cold metal of his pistol holstered by his side.

He wasn’t a fool; he knew this was a trap. But nothing—nothing—would stop him from stepping into it if it meant the chance to see you alive again.

Before he entered, Joel slipped his phone from his pocket, sending his location to Tommy, leaving the device outside on a rock by the front gate.

He couldn’t afford distractions; whatever came next would be a fight to the end.

As he made his way up the steps, he felt it in his bones, that tether connecting him to you, stretched thin but unbroken. He knew you were here, somewhere behind these walls, waiting, needing him.

His heart ached at the thought of what you’d endured. It wasn’t right—none of this was right.

Inside, the air was thick with rot and rust, the scent of decay seeping into Joel’s lungs as he moved through the shadowed house.

Every step felt like a descent deeper into hell, each room echoing with the silent horror Negan had constructed within these walls.

The quiet was suffocating, pressing against his senses as he advanced with tense, deliberate steps, the weight of his weapon a cold comfort against his side.

The metallic smell of blood seemed to seep through the walls, thickening the air like rot as Joel moved down the dim corridor, his gaze fixed on the heavy big metal door at the end.

Blood was smeared across its surface, a dark, cruel stain, like the mark of some unholy ritual. He forced himself to breathe through the nausea rising in his throat, steadying himself with a muttered plea.

Please, God, let her be alive.

With a rough, trembling hand, he pushed open the door, entering a space so silent and hollow it felt like stepping into a tomb. The walls were metallic and gray, shimmering faintly under the dim, flickering light.

A hulking freezer stood in the corner, and around it lay instruments of terror—chainsaws, rusted wrenches, and knives coated in dried blood.

This was no ordinary room; it was a pit of nightmares.

He barely took three steps before his gaze froze on the horror ahead—a headless body hung from a butcher’s hook.

With a dress dangling from her shoulders, hair matted against blood-smeared fabric. For a sickening moment, his heart stopped, every nerve screaming as he tried to push down the dread that it was you.

But it wasn’t.

He knew you. The shape of your body, the softness of your shoulders, the line of your arms. Relief coursed through him, but only for a split second.

Desperately, he moved toward the freezer, steeling himself for whatever horror he might find. Inside, jars lined the shelves—heads frozen in twisted, agonized expressions.

Women. Girls to be exact. They don't look older than 20.

His stomach churned violently, but he couldn’t look away. And there, in a fresh jar, he saw Emma’s familiar face, her eyes closed forever in a peaceful, sickening slumber.

His chest tightened as the desperate, icy panic surged within him. He’s taken them all.

As he backed away, his gaze landed on a large object draped in thick canvas, its edges sagging like a dark secret. Swallowing, he approached, slowly pulling back the cover, revealing a small dog cage, lined with soiled fabric and stained in red.

It's you.

He could barely breathe as he took in the sight, disbelief warring with hope. Inside, you lay motionless, your body crumpled and cold, pale in the dim light, bruises shadowing your face and arms.

Every inch of you looked fragile, lifeless. Joel’s heart shattered, the pain so raw it made him stagger.

"No... no," he whispered, stumbling forward. "No.” His voice cracked, shattering the silence.

He dropped to his knees, frantically reaching through the bars, hands trembling as he fumbled with the lock.

It wouldn’t budge, metal biting into his hands as he yanked, pulled, and beat at it in fury until finally, with a final, desperate heave, it gave way.

He pulled your body in his arms, a wave of coldness seeping through his skin as he held you close, brushing a shaking hand against your cheek, as if he could will the warmth back into you.

“Baby…I’m here.” His voice was barely a whisper, as fragile as he’d ever been, a man torn open.

He pressed his ear to your chest, desperate for any sign of life, but your skin was cold, your pulse faint to nonexistent, the quiet threatening to consume him.

"I'm here now… open your eyes, babygirl," he whispered, voice raw and trembling, searching for any flicker, any faint sign of life.

He leaned close, brushing his thumb over your bruised skin, trying to will you back to him. "Doll… please… open your eyes. I'm here."

His own heartbeat thundered in his ears, his body trembling with the weight of the moment, and yet—somewhere, deep in his bones—he felt you.

You couldn’t be gone. Not you. This couldn’t be happening.

Desperation clawed at him as he murmured again, “I’m here… please, please… doll…” The sound of his voice, broken and laced with grief, shattered in the silence.

He clutched you tighter, pressing you to his chest, a hollow ache blooming in the very marrow of him. "Please… don't do this to me, baby…"

"Don't do this to me..."

For the first time in years, Joel prayed.

He’d long forgotten how to ask for mercy, how to whisper words into the void and hope something beyond him might listen.

But here, in this moment, he found himself clinging to the last, fragile remnants of belief, calling out to a God he’d long turned away from, begging—pleading—that you be spared.

His lips moved in a silent prayer, the words barely more than a broken murmur, all his hope wrapped into each fractured plea. Please… don’t take her. Don’t let her go.

His world collapsed into this single, unbearable moment. Everything—the pain, the emptiness, the years he’d spent buried in his own grief—shrank down to this: holding you, willing you to stay.

A part of him whispered that you were gone, that he’d come too late. It sliced through him, the pain cold and merciless, tearing at him from the inside.

But he couldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t. He held you tighter, as if he could pull you back to life with sheer, desperate force.

"Come on, babygirl," he whispered, his voice a soft plea, thick with tears. "You promised me… remember? You promised."

His tears fell onto your skin, mingling with the blood that marred your face, his grief seeping into every inch of you. He bent his head, pressing his lips against your forehead, his tears hot and relentless.

Every memory, every moment with you flashed through his mind, a lifetime of love condensed into seconds. The laughter you’d shared, the softness in your eyes when you’d look at him—all of it now hung in the balance, slipping through his fingers like smoke.

Joel's grip tightened, his arms wrapped around you like he could shield you, even now, from everything dark and vile in this world. "Please, come back to me," he choked out, his voice barely more than a breath, the words pulled from the deepest part of him.

Come back.

His chest ached, his heart beating against a wall of sorrow so thick it was suffocating. And still, he held you, as though love alone could tether your soul back to him, could fill the silence that had swallowed you whole.

Suddenly, the silence between you shattered as you gasped awake, air flooding into your lungs in a desperate, rattling breath.

Joel’s heart jolted with such force he almost pulled back, but instead, he held you tighter, his relief an overwhelming wave crashing over him.

You thrashed weakly in his arms, vision blurred, disoriented and terrified, your voice breaking in panicked cries. "No! No! Don’t touch me!"

"Hey, hey… it’s me. It’s me," he murmured softly, his hands gentle on your shoulders as he tried to calm you.

His voice was thick, a rough whisper, barely holding back the tears of relief as he drew you closer, feeling the steady warmth of your breath against his chest.

"Joel?" He felt you relax, and slowly, as if afraid you’d disappear if he let go, Joel wrapped his arms tighter around you, silently thanking whatever force was left in this world for bringing you back to him.

"Thank you...Thank you God," he whispered to God, to bring you back.

Your blurred vision cleared, and as your gaze fell on his face, the tears came, spilling over in a torrent of relief, of exhaustion, of love.

You clung to him, like a child, letting out every fear, every longing, until the weight of his presence seemed to ground you, to make you feel safe again.

“I thought… I thought I’d never see you again,” you whispered, your voice trembling, breaking.

He pulled you close, pressing his lips to the side of your head, his words soft and steady. "I got you. You’re safe now… I’m here now." His heart clenched as he felt you collapse against him, trusting him to carry the weight of this moment.

The horror of everything he’d witnessed, everything he’d feared, lingered on the edges of his mind, but with you here in his arms, he could finally breathe.

He then kissed you, you kissed him back.

The warmth of Joel's embrace, that kiss—long, desperate, everything unspoken between you poured into it—all of it felt like salvation, like drowning in relief only to be pulled into air and held there, safe.

Your lips pressed together in a fierce, shared need to feel every ache, every moment of fear, longing, and love—the kiss deepening as if it could carry every bit of pain you’d endured and let it dissolve in his arms.

For a moment, it was just the two of you against the horror, the emptiness that had swallowed you whole.

Here, with him, you are finally feel alive again.

But then, the moment split open. A shadow loomed behind him, and a chill ran down your spine, the dread slithering into your heart before you even turned.

You pulled back, eyes wide, breath catching as you saw Negan standing there, his mouth twisted in a cruel, dark smirk.

In his hands was that familiar bat, glinting under the dim light, raised with lethal intent.

"NO, JOEL—" you managed, your voice breaking as terror surged through you, but it was already too late.

The bat crashed down with a sickening, brutal force, and Joel’s body crumpled beneath the blow.

“Joel!” Your scream tore through the silence, raw and desperate. His form lay motionless, blood slowly trickling from the wound on his head, staining his face as his eyes fell shut.

The sight shattered you.

Negan grabbed you, yanking you away with unyielding strength. You kicked, you clawed, but it was no use. “NO! Don’t do anything to him! Please, don’t hurt him, don’t—” But your pleas fell on deaf ears.

He threw you back into the cold, unforgiving cage, the door slamming shut with a merciless clang.

"NEGAN, NO!" You pounded against the bars, fists slamming as you screamed. He only watched, amused, as though your desperation was an orchestra he enjoyed conducting.

Across the room, Negan dragged Joel’s limp body to a chair, binding his hands and legs with thick, rough ropes. He worked meticulously, each knot tight, his gaze never leaving Joel's battered face.

Blood dripped from the wound on Joel’s head, trailing slowly down his neck, and you felt a crushing helplessness as you watched him, your voice cracking as you screamed.

“Joel! Joel, please… wake up…”

You clawed at the bars until your nails split, your hands bloody, but the steel held fast.

The reality of the moment sank into your bones like ice, each second stretching with dread. "NEGAN, PLEASE!" you begged, your voice breaking, but he only turned toward you with a mocking, cold look.

"That’s the last time he’ll get to touch you," Negan sneered, disgust twisting in his voice as he gestured back at the spot where you’d kissed Joel, where you’d clung to him like he was your last hope. “Disgusting.”

***

Joel’s world flickered back to life in fragments, his mind swimming as he fought the waves of blackness pressing against him.

His head throbbed with a searing pain, and his vision blurred as he forced his eyes open, seeing only flashes of movement and shapes at first.

Then, bit by bit, his sight cleared, and he could see you through the haze, slumped against the bars of a cage, tears streaming down your face as you called his name, desperate and broken.

His heart twisted at the sight, fear tearing through him as he tried to reach for you, only to feel the bite of ropes cutting into his wrists and ankles.

He was bound to the chair, unable to move. Panic settled into his chest, sharp and unforgiving. “Doll…” he managed, his voice hoarse and shaky as he struggled against the restraints, the blood from his wound still warm, trickling down his neck.

Negan’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and cruel, like the edge of a blade scraping against bone. "Well, look who’s finally awake,"he jeered, stepping into Joel’s view, his eyes gleaming with a sick, twisted pleasure.

Every word that left Negan’s lips felt like an assault, each syllable laced with venom.

The sight of him, standing there so casually, was enough to stir something inside Joel that was deeper than fury—it was primal, raw, a burning hatred that ignited within him.

Every muscle in his body screamed to break free, to get to you, to tear Negan apart. He pulled at the ropes, feeling them bite into his skin, but they held fast, as immovable as the horror that had unfolded.

"I'm going to kill you," Joel growled, the words thick with rage and the promise of retribution. The air around him seemed to crackle with violence, his every word a threat, his every breath heavy with hatred.

Negan’s laugh was low and cruel, a sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. Without warning, he drove his fist into Joel's stomach, and the sound of it—the sickening thud—echoed in the room, a sharp crack of pain that sent a wave of terror through you.

“No!” you screamed, your heart pounding in your chest, your hands reaching helplessly through the bars, as if you could stop the onslaught with your mere presence.

Negan wiped the blood from his knuckles and smiled. "You think you can save her, huh? Think you can play hero, Miller?" he mocked, his voice dripping with scorn.

"C’mon, you can’t be that stupid. You really think I’d kill her? Please… she’s way too much fun to kill." He sneered, another brutal punch landing on Joel’s face, snapping his head to the side with a sickening crack.

Joel’s eyes were darkened with pain, his mouth now filled with blood, but the fire in him didn’t waver. "I’m gonna fucking kill you," Joel spat, the blood dribbling from his lips, his voice hoarse with fury.

Negan tilted his head, studying Joel with a twisted grin. "Tough guy, huh?" he said, mocking the very idea of Joel’s strength. "Well, let’s see how tough you are when you can’t do a damn thing about it."

Joel’s heart was thundering in his chest, the pulse of his veins matching the brutal rhythm of the punches he endured.

But his spirit didn’t falter; it only burned brighter with every insult, with every blow that landed on his battered body.

Negan circled him, like a predator sizing up its prey, leaning in close, his voice thick with venom as he whispered into Joel’s ear. "What were you thinking, huh? That you could just walk in here and stop me?" He chuckled, shaking his head, his voice dripping with mocking pity.

"We were fine without you. Hell, we were thriving without you." His eyes flicked over to you in the cage, a dark glimmer in them. "She was happy, you know. Didn’t need you to be in her head. But here you are, playing the white knight, trying to save the girl you don’t even fucking deserve."

Negan's voice was like poison, dripping from his lips with a slow, deliberate cruelty, each word laced with venom meant to tear Joel down, to twist the knife deeper.

He knew the weight of Joel's guilt, the shadows of his past, and now, he was going to use it against him.

"You think you deserve her?" Negan’s tone was mocking, cruel, his eyes glinting with a sadistic pleasure. "You? You think you can be her hero, Miller? You’ve known her since she was a little girl, right? Since she was three? And now you’re fucking her?" His voice rose with each word, the venom thickening, as if he could make Joel choke on the very idea.

"Disgusting."

Joel’s stomach twisted, bile rising in his throat. He couldn’t respond—not yet. Not when Negan was playing with fire, fanning the flames of his mind, trying to ignite a spark of doubt in his heart.

Joel remained silent, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt, his gaze burning holes into the floor beneath him.

Negan was trying to gaslight him, make him feel like the monster, make him believe the lies about his relationship with you.

Negan leaned in, his breath hot against Joel's ear, like a shadow whispering sweet poison into his soul. "You really think you’re a hero, huh?" He chuckled darkly.

"You think you’re saving her? You’re just like them, Miller. Just like Ben. Just like that goddamn pedophile you killed. And don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it—taking matters into your own hands, playing God, playing judge, jury, and executioner. You’re the same fucking monster they were. You’re just too stupid to see it."

The words sent a cold shiver through Joel’s veins, like ice water splashing against his skin.

The ghosts of his past clawed at him, the blood-stained memories that had been haunting him for years now bubbling up to the surface. He had killed Ben and Jamie. Killed them to protect her.

"You killed them because you want her to be all yours. Not because you want to protect her,"

Joel’s jaw clenched, but his mind started to churn with the doubt Negan planted, each word a tiny crack in the wall Joel had built around himself.

He had been justifying everything, hadn’t he? His actions… the things he did for you. It was all for you, wasn’t it? To protect you.

But Negan was playing with fire, and his words were like gasoline—burning through the edges of Joel’s sanity, forcing him to look at the truth through a new, ugly lens.

“God,” Negan’s voice dropped to a low murmur, almost conversational, “I watched her for a long time. Long before you even fucking noticed her.”

He stepped closer, his breath sour, smelling of something rotten, something foul. “The first time I met her father… I was going to repent. I was going to change. Hell, Naomi told me to visit Reverend Gibson, to clean up my act, to find some peace. I was gonna find salvation. All those other girls—bored me. But then… I saw her."

"She was in that white sundress, innocent, pure. I thought—" He let out a dark laugh, shaking his head. “I thought God wanted me to have her, Miller. Maybe she was my redemption. To have a pure, sweet, innocent soul to redeem my sins."

"But then you showed up. Like a fucking rat you have to showed up for God's sake!"

Joel felt his breath catch, like he was drowning in the weight of Negan’s words, each one pressing down on him, pushing him deeper into a pit of guilt and self-loathing.

Negan’s laughter was sickening. It clawed at Joel’s chest, and the air felt thick, choking. “You… you played the fucking hero, huh? You couldn’t leave well enough alone."

Negan walking circled him, "You thought you could save her from her misery just because her father disciplined her. So what, Joel? Girls need to be fucking taught!"

"I agree with her father on that one. She was a brat! and oh she still is!"

The silence was deafening after those words. They hung in the air like smoke, choking the life out of Joel, filling him with a slow, creeping dread.

His mind spun, the thought of you, so innocent, so pure, now tangled in his web. Negan was poisoning everything, every memory of you, twisting it into something ugly, something perverse.

Negan didn’t stop, his words like chains tightening around Joel’s neck, dragging him deeper into the muck. "You led her to you, Joel. Don’t even try to pretend you didn’t."

"You acted like you could protect her. But you can’t even protect yourself from your own past, can you? You’re so goddamn broken, so messed up. And now you’re just taking advantage of her.

Joel’s heart pounded in his chest, a storm of guilt crashing over him like a tidal wave. Was he—had he really led you here? Was he really just as bad as Negan said?

Negan’s voice dropped to a mocking whisper, dragging the words through Joel's mind like claws on glass. “She was your daughter’s friend, Joel. Ellie’s friend.” He leaned in closer, his breath hot against Joel’s ear.

“Don’t you feel disgusted? You’ve fucked your daughter’s friend. That’s how far you’ve fallen.”

Joel’s head swam, the weight of the words crashing over him, drowning him in a sea of doubt and self-loathing.

His grip tightened on the ropes, his knuckles white, but there was something else now—a spark of something dark, something cold in his chest.

"What do you think Jane would say, huh?" with the mention of his late wife, Joel's body tighten up.

"You think she’d be proud of you, molesting Evelyn’s daughter? Evelyn, Jane’s best friend. You’re disgusting, Joel. All of this? It’s on you."

Negan continued, his voice a low, mocking growl, pushing Joel to the edge. “You’re no better than any of us. Look at you, Miller."

"You took advantage of her. She was just a little girl who needed someone to teach her. And you? You saw an opportunity, didn’t you?”

"You are pathetic," Negan's word hit like a snake's fangs, stung through Joel's heart.

Joel clenched his fists harder, his body trembling with rage, fear, and a deep sense of self-loathing. His throat burned as he fought to keep the tears back, to keep from choking on the agony of his own thoughts. The floodgates were closing, but they were trembling, about to burst.

What has he done?

Joel’s thoughts were a maelstrom now. He couldn’t focus. His mind was torn between the images of you—so sweet, so innocent—and the cruel words that Negan kept throwing at him, one after another.

But then, through the haze of doubt, through the suffocating weight of Negan’s venom, Joel heard your voice.

“No!” You screamed, your voice breaking through the madness, a raw, desperate plea.

“Joel, don’t listen to him!” The words trembled on your lips, an echo of everything you needed to say, everything you wanted Joel to hear.

"Don't listen to him!" you screamed again, your breath ragged, your throat burning from the effort. The sound of Negan’s poison lingered in the air like smoke, heavy and thick, but you couldn’t let it smother the truth.

You needed him to hear you. He needed to hear you.

"Joel, look at me!" you pleaded, your hands gripping the bars of the cage so tightly your fingers turned white.

Every word Negan had said felt like a bullet to your heart, but you couldn’t—you wouldn’t—let Joel fall into the same trap. He was better than this.

He is better than them.

"You’re not like them, Joel. You never were!" The words spilled from your mouth, raw and desperate, desperate to break through the fog that was clouding his mind.

You needed him to see the truth—the truth that was you and him, the life you shared, the love you both fought for in the darkest corners.

"You love me. In your own way, but you love me, Joel! You saved me! You gave me a life I never thought I deserved." Your voice cracked with the weight of everything you were feeling, the deep well of emotion that surged between you both.

"Joel, I love you."

"I love you, Joel. and you love me, you are my savior, you saved me."

"Look at me! Look at me, Joel! Don't let him under your skin, please,"

Negan, on the other side of this fragile moment, stood grinning, eyes glinting with amusement, as if watching a puppet fight its strings.

He saw Joel waver, saw the flicker of doubt and fear, and he thrived on it. His smile was nothing short of wicked, enjoying the chaos he had stirred.

He had set his trap, and now he watched, savoring the confusion that was slowly chipping away at Joel’s resolve.

You could see Joel, fighting against the chaos in his own mind, the weight of Negan’s twisted words pulling at him like a chain.

His eyes flickered, lost, haunted, caught between his past and the present, between the lies and the truth. But then—then—he looked at you.

For a moment, it was like time stopped. The world held its breath, and all that existed was you and him.

His gaze locked on yours, and in that instant, you saw everything—the raw, unspoken love, the pain, the guilt, the shame, but also the fight.

The fight to break free, the fight to protect you, the fight to keep you safe.

"Joel," you whispered, your voice soft but steady now, as if you were trying to calm the storm that raged inside him.

"You are so much better than this. You’re not like them, Joel. You’re not a monster. You are the best father Ellie and Sarah could ever want, Joel. They will be proud of you, she would have. The best man I have ever wanted, you're my protecter, the love of my life, you are my soul, Joel."

But as you cried out to him, Negan’s smile twisted into a sneer, his patience running thin. "Enough with your fucking mouth!" he growled, turning to you with fury, his hands reaching for the cage, yanking the door open with a violence that made you flinch.

"Shut up already."

Before you could react, Negan was on you, his hand slapping across your face with a sickening force, sending your head whipping to the side.

The sound of the slap echoed in the room, louder than your scream. The sting spread like fire across your cheek, your eyes filling with tears that blurred your vision.

For a moment, the world spun—his presence, his cruelty, all of it was too much to bear.

With that, Joel—Joel is awake.

In that instant, the haze lifted from his eyes. The fury, the protectiveness, everything that made Joel Joel came rushing back.

His muscles strained against the ropes, his eyes flashing with an intensity that would have burned holes in the walls if he could.

He was no longer the broken man Negan had manipulated, no longer the victim of his words.

He was the man who had fought for you, the man who had saved you.

"You son of a bitch!" Joel roared, the raw anger in his voice like a clap of thunder. His body surged forward, every instinct screaming to protect you, to break free from his restraints.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" He screamed, his hands were shaking with rage, but that was the only thing that kept him grounded—the unrelenting need to destroy the man who had dared to lay a finger on you.

The rope binding Joel's wrists strained as he twisted, trying to force the knot loose, his mind ablaze with fury. Every word Negan spoke chipped away at his restraint, his heart hammering with hatred.

The sight of you in Negan's hold—his arm around your neck, the gleaming knife pressed to your throat—made Joel’s blood boil.

But he knew he had to keep his wits; one wrong move, and you’d be lost.

Negan grinned, tightening his grip around your neck. His voice was dripping with mockery as he taunted, "What’s the matter, honey? Scared now?" He leaned closer, his sneer twisted with sadistic pleasure.

"Oh, Joel, why’d you have to ruin everything? If it wasn’t for you, she and I—" he paused, savoring each word, "we’d have lived happily ever after."

Joel’s hands shook as he worked against the restraints, his heart pounding. Negan’s twisted words were knives slicing into him, each one crueler than the last.

"She’s delicious, Joel," Negan sneered, his voice sickly sweet as he ran his tongue along his teeth. "The way she tastes... can’t get enough of her." He licked his lips exaggeratedly, taunting Joel, mocking him with every vile syllable.

"You should’ve known," Negan laughed, pressing the blade closer to your skin, just enough to draw a thin trickle of blood.

"Stop it, Negan, please," you whimpered, tears spilling from your eyes, the despair twisting in your voice.

Negan only tightened his hold, his voice low and cruel. "What’s the matter, honey? You were enjoying it too, right?" The words crushed you, and you turned your face away, unable to look at Joel, a sense of shame sinking into your soul.

Joel's fingers scraped against the ropes with renewed desperation, his fury almost blinding.

Negan’s voice slithered through the silence, every word laced with cruelty. "You know," he continued, "I thought of sharing her around with the others. She made me good money, after all. She knows how to entertain… they paid well. Maybe you’d want a turn, too, Joel. She’s… profitable." He laughed, a dark, rasping sound that reverberated in the room, tightening the coil of hatred in Joel’s chest.

"I’m gonna kill you," Joel growled through gritted teeth, his voice a low, venomous promise.

"Ah, ah," Negan teased, pressing the blade harder against your skin, making you wince. "I’m not finished yet."

Negan’s voice softened, a calculated cruelty in every word as he continued. "But I started thinking... she can’t stay young forever. Thought maybe… it’d be a shame not to pass on those… charming qualities of hers."

"And wouldn’t you know it, Joel, she was carrying a piece of me inside her. That's right, My child!"

"She didn’t agree, of course… but a little force never hurt, right?"

Joel’s heart froze at Negan’s taunts, every word tearing open old wounds he’d buried deep.

Each sentence was a twisted knife, slashing at the walls Joel had built to keep the pain, guilt, and memories at bay. Negan’s voice was venomous, slithering around the broken dreams Joel had long since given up on.

He felt the darkness creeping back—the part of him that, years ago, had once loved fiercely, only to lose everything in one brutal instant.

But pregnant? His mind reeled, the word pounding in his skull like a drum. The image of you, scared and vulnerable, carrying his child—his child—pierced through the numbness in his heart.

He could barely breathe, the thought of you enduring such horror while he was oblivious igniting a fury so primal, so fierce, it nearly drowned him.

Rage tangled with a crushing sense of failure. He wanted to rip Negan apart with his bare hands, make him pay for every ounce of pain he’d inflicted.

Negan’s twisted laughter cut through his thoughts. “Yeah, she wanted a family, Joel,” he sneered, lips curling in a malicious grin.

“She had this fucking unrealistic idea, delusional bitch. You. Her. Playing house. Kids. The whole perfect life fantasy. But she knew, didn’t she?” Negan’s gaze pierced Joel, mocking him with each word.

“You were scared of it, scared of screwing it up like you did the last time. I mean, how could she not know? You’ve got ‘haunted’ written all over you. Lost control, didn't you? When you killed your own family,” Negan laughed, as if savoring each jab.

Inside, Joel’s heart twisted. He remembered the night like yesterday. Now he was left with nothing but ashes and guilt that hollowed him out from the inside.

Every part of him was screaming to shut Negan up, to wipe that smug look off his face. But it was true, wasn’t it? Deep down, he was scared—scared of losing again, scared of failing you the way he’d failed before.

But you, you were different. Despite everything, you stayed.

Despite the darkness he carried, the broken parts he tried to hide, you’d somehow found something worth holding onto.

That fierce loyalty of yours was like a light in the pitch-black cave of his heart, something so pure it almost hurt to look at.

You were stupid, he told himself, but the truth was you were braver than he ever could be.

You had this impossible, relentless hope—the dream of a life together, a family, even though he’d told himself it could never be.

You had loved him, flaws and all, even when he couldn’t love himself. And now, the thought of what Negan had done, the way he’d shattered that hope, drove him to the edge.

"But this stupid bitch killed my baby before they could feel their daddy's voice,"

Negan's words echoed in the dim room, each one twisting deeper into Joel's heart. The pain surged through him like wildfire. You'd done the unimaginable for him, sacrificing more than he could comprehend, and now here you were, your hope and loyalty used against you like weapons.

It was more than he could take—Negan was tearing away the last pieces of himself, bit by bit. Joel's fists clenched tight, knuckles white, straining against the binds holding him back, desperate to shut Negan up, to take back what had been lost.

Negan’s voice grew sharper, each taunt slicing like a blade. "You see, Joel? this bitch is loyal and fucking crazy, she killed her own child for you! just to make a new baby for you!"

"She killed her own kid—for you. All that love, all that loyalty, wasted on you."

"But it’s over, you hear me? You and her? Done. I’ll make sure she forgets you. And when I’m finished with you, there’ll be nothing left."

The world narrowed to this single moment. Negan, too consumed with his taunts to notice, didn’t see you move.

In a swift, silent motion, you grabbed a jagged tool from the ground behind him, the weight of it heavy in your hand. You swung it, heart pounding, and plunged it into Negan's chest with everything you had.

Negan gasped, staggering back, his eyes flashing with fury and shock. In an instant, he retaliated, plunging his knife into your side.

The pain ripped through you, a white-hot flash as you felt the blade sink in, stealing the air from your lungs.

"Joel..."

Time slowed, the world narrowing to the throbbing ache and the look on Joel's face—his eyes wide, pure horror carved into every line, as he screamed for you, voice raw and desperate.

"NO!"

Your name fell from his lips, a broken prayer, just as you stumbled back, collapsing onto the cold ground. Negan kicked you aside with brutal force, your body sliding across the floor as you fought to keep your vision steady.

You could barely hear Joel’s cries over the rushing in your ears, his desperate shout, the anguish that filled every word, but you felt his presence as if he were right there, holding you.

The sound of wood splintering filled the room as Joel threw his weight against the chair, shattering the binds that held him. In one furious motion, he was on his feet, lunging at Negan with a force that seemed to shake the air.

They collided in a storm of fists and fury, each punch landing like thunder. Blood smeared the floor, echoing the carnage that seethed within Joel’s heart, his fists fueled by a rage that seemed boundless.

Every blow was a release, a reckoning for the agony and fear Negan had unleashed.

Through your blurred vision, you saw them—Joel, relentless and unyielding, his fists raining down on Negan, every punch charged with a love he’d never put into words, a love you could feel, pulsing through every beat of your wounded heart.

The scene before you felt like a twisted nightmare, each moment a struggle to stay present, to push through the pain as blood seeped from your wounds.

You clutched your side, feeling the warmth slip between your fingers as you pressed down, refusing to give in. You had to stay awake. You had to stay with him.

Joel was still fighting, his fists relentless, fueled by desperation and a love that spoke louder than words. But Negan’s laugh rang out, mocking, dark.

“Tough guy, Miller? Is that all you got?” Negan’s face was bruised, bloodied, but he still smirked through it, as if even this pain was just another game to him.

"Bring it on!" Negan said. Joel didn’t let up, his fists a storm of anger, of love, of every unspoken promise he’d made. He was protecting you with everything he had.

But in a flash, Negan’s hand found his bat, and with a brutal swing, he sent Joel flying backward, his head colliding with the floor.

As Joel’s head slammed against the cold ground, a sickening thud reverberated through the room, a sound that echoed in the hollow of your chest.

But Negan loomed over him now, his eyes alight with a sadistic joy. “My turn,” he sneered, swinging the bat down again and again, each blow ringing out, a sickening thud that filled the room.

"NO!"

Joel tried to stand, tried to fight, but he was slowing, his strength waning. Blood pooled around him, and when he looked up at you, his eyes were glazed, his face pale.

Blood ran from his temple in a dark, winding river, and you could see the light beginning to fade in his eyes, the haze of consciousness slipping further with each ragged breath.

His gaze found yours, as he tried to smile, to offer you one last reassurance. You felt a surge of panic rise in you, raw and consuming, as you screamed, “NO! STOP IT!" you saw Negan bash his bat to Joel over and over again.

But Negan laughed, a deep, sinister sound that filled every corner of the room. “Look at you, Miller,” he sneered, swinging the bat down again, the force of it making Joel’s body jerk, each strike ripping pieces from your soul.

“You really thought you could win?”

Your vision blurred as hot tears slipped down your cheeks. The pain in your side was blinding, your own blood pooling beneath you, but nothing compared to the sight of Joel—your Joel—bruised, broken, and bleeding, his life slipping away with each heartbeat.

“Wake up, Joel,” you whispered, a plea laced with desperation, but your voice cracked as you saw him begin to fade.

"WAKE UP!" you screamed, “Please, Joel. Wake up!” You tried to rise, but agony shot through you, your body weakening under the weight of your injuries.

All you could do was lie there, helpless, watching as the man you loved was torn apart before your eyes.

Negan paused, his cruel smile widening as he noticed Joel’s lips moving, a faint whisper escaping.

“What’s that, tough guy? what did you say? oh my God! tough son of a bitch! look! he tried to speak to you!” He laughed looking at you as Negan point to Joel laying in the ground blood all over him, mocking, stepping back just enough to give Joel room to speak.

Joel’s head lifted, his bloodied face turned to you, his voice broken but determined.

“C-close… your eyes, doll…” His words were barely audible, each syllable a struggle, blood trickling from his mouth as he tried to form the words.

He lifted a hand, reaching out to you, trembling, his fingers stretching to bridge the aching space between you.

You shake your head crying, "No...Joel...", The world closed in around you, the weight of your love for him too heavy, too fierce, to bear the thought of letting go.

Tears blurred your vision, and you choked back a sob, heart shattering as you whispered back, “You can’t… I can’t lose you.”

"J-just, c-close your eyes, you're gonna be okay," he said again, blood now coming out from his mouth again.

Your chest heaved, your vision blurred with tears. No, you thought, this can’t be it.

The man who’d become everything to you—the man who’d fought against his own darkness just to hold onto yours—was fading. You couldn’t lose him. You wouldn’t lose him.

Then, as if by divine intervention, your gaze fell to the floor.

It's your gun. Your bible and your gun you hadn't see in a long time.

The gun and the Bible Frank had given you, lying just within reach beneath the table. A fire rekindled within you.

A fury as deep and fierce as your love for Joel, you need to save him. This man would fight to his last breath for you, and you'd do the same for him.

Then you began to crawl, inch by painful inch, toward the weapon. Negan, too caught up in his victory, hadn’t noticed, his laughter grating on your raw nerves.

“Oh, don’t worry, Joel,” Negan sneered, leaning over him with twisted delight. “I’m gonna take real good care of your girl here. Good night.”

But before he could swing, before he could deliver that final, sickening blow, you rose to your knees, aimed the gun, and pulled the trigger.

BANG.

The sound shattered the silence. Negan froze, the shock evident in his wide, stunned eyes as he stumbled, blood blooming across his chest. You fired again.

You didn’t stop. Y

He looked at you, eyes narrowing, but you held your ground, staring into him with a steady, unyielding gaze.

Again and again and again, you pressed the trigger, feeling your breath hitch with each pull, each impact sinking deeper, as if each shot was tearing away the chains he had wrapped around you.

You are screaming as the fury poured from you, pouring all the agony into each pull of the trigger, trying to emptying every last round into him, watching him fall, watching his face twist in horror as his strength faded.

Finally, the gun clicked, empty, but you weren’t finished. Dropping the weapon, you stepped forward, picking up his bat.

The weight felt righteous in your hands. Standing over him, you paused, staring down into his eyes, watching the realization settle—he knew he’d lost.

Negan’s bloodied mouth twisted into a smile, his laughter hoarse and fading. “Look at you,” he rasped, his voice broken, taunting to the very end. “All grown up now.”

Those were his last words.

You raised it high and swung the bat with everything you had, unleashing everything he’d taken from you, every wound he had caused, every hope he’d tried to crush.

The sound of cracking bone echoing in the room, a raw, primal scream tearing from your throat as you brought it down again and again and the bone shattered beneath you.

The world faded, reduced to the rhythmic, furious release of pain, until nothing was left but silence, his broken body beneath you.

You dropped the bat, chest heaving, the weight of it all crashing down on you.

And then you heard it—Joel’s voice, barely a whisper, calling your name, grounding you, reminding you of who you were beyond the fury.

You turned toward him, your body swaying with the weight of pain and exhaustion. Every step you took felt heavier than the last, as if the ground itself wanted to hold you back, to stop you from reaching him.

But you pushed forward, collapsing beside him, your trembling hands finding his blood-streaked face, brushing against his stubbled cheek with a gentleness that defied the violence you’d just endured.

"Joel… hang on," you whispered, but the words barely escaped your lips, thick with tears.

His head lolled against you, his brown eyes finding yours, and the blood pooled in his hair shimmered like some tragic halo.

You could feel the strength slipping from his body, a slow ebbing tide that pulled him further away with every heartbeat.

"Look at me, doll," he murmured, his voice a threadbare whisper, his hand lifting with a tremor to brush your cheek, his thumb sweeping away the tears that blurred your vision.

"You’re… you’re gonna be okay."

You shook your head, gathering him closer, your blood mingling with his as you pressed his head to your lap, cradling him as though you could shelter him from the world that had dealt you both such cruelty.

"No, we’re gonna be okay," you insisted, your voice breaking under the weight of it, a plea wrapped in promise.

"Don’t leave me… please, Joel. I can’t do this without you."

You could see the struggle in his eyes, the quiet resignation in his bruised face as he tried to smile, each line etched into his skin telling stories of a life spent fighting—and now, his final fight slipping through his grasp.

He lifted a hand, pressing against the wound on your side even as his own blood stained your fingers. Every breath was shallow, every word a strain.

He leaned his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin, his eyes barely focusing but still on you, clinging to this moment, to you.

"I’m sorry, babygirl," he whispered, as if the words themselves could bind you together just a little longer.

“No. Don’t… don’t do this to me, Joel,” you begged, pressing your hand harder to his wound too, as if the pressure alone could stop the flow of time, of everything that was slipping away.

You cupped his face, tears falling onto his skin, mingling with the blood that soaked you both. "We’re gonna be okay. We have to be."

But even as you spoke, darkness edged into your vision too, the room narrowing to the beat of your shared breaths, slow and unsteady.

His fingers held yours, entwined in a desperate grip that softened as his strength faded, his pulse a faint echo in your hand. “I love you,” he whispered.

The words raw and cracked, filling the hollow spaces between you, the ache and loss that could never be spoken. “I’ll always be with you.”

The world blurred, the pain and fear blending into a strange calm as you traced your fingers over his face, memorizing every line, every scar.

"I love you so much, Joel," you whispered, voice barely a breath, pressing your lips to his forehead, grounding yourself in the warmth of him, the man who had become your salvation, your strength.

He looked at you, his gaze softening, his hand falling to rest against your cheek one last time. "I found you,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips as the darkness began to claim him.

In the distance, a sound broke the silence—a wail of sirens, voices muffled and faint, calling yours and Joel's name.

You heard your own name echoed, felt the vibration of the world rushing toward you, but it felt so far away, unreachable.

“Joel?” you whispered, weak and fading, your vision blurring as exhaustion pulled you under. Joel didn’t respond, his head resting still against your lap, his breathing shallow, slipping away from you.

Your name rang out again, closer now, a voice that you knew—a voice that felt like home.

"Tommy," you managed, a faint smile softening your lips as your gaze lifted, catching sight of his familiar face before the darkness claimed you.

“He found us.”

And then, like the soft closing of a book, everything faded into black.

HANG ON PEOPLE, WE STILL GOT ONE MORE FINAL CHAPTER!

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ms-snape · 2 days ago

Note

young!sevrus snape w/ a reader who is a very affectionate person? gives him hugs, peppers his face with kisses, holds his hand, plays with his hair whenever his head is in her lap…

Title: Affection

Warning: none, just pure fluff

Words Count: 1500+

Masterlist

---

The dungeons of Hogwarts were always cold, but tonight, the chill of the stone walls seemed to seep into the bones of the students gathered in the Slytherin common room. It was a typical Friday evening, the flickering flames of the fire casting long shadows across the room as most of the house’s occupants gathered in their usual places. But for once, Severus Snape wasn’t by himself.

He had, against every instinct, allowed himself to settle into a corner of the common room with Y/N, another member of Slytherin. At first, she had been nothing more than an occasional study partner—sharp, clever, and slightly aloof in her own right. But over the course of months, something had changed between them. The terse exchanges had turned into quieter moments, and the shared glances had deepened into something far more meaningful, something that neither of them had been prepared for.

Severus’s head rested in Y/N’s lap, her fingers idly threading through his messy, dark hair as she absently read a book about potion theory. He was still tense under her touch, as he always had been, but tonight there was a subtle difference—a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before.

Y/N had never been shy about her affections. She was a Slytherin, after all. She understood the value of power, of control. But she also knew that there were moments when something more than ambition was required: moments where the heart could soften, where people needed warmth to survive the cold of the world around them. And Severus—Severus was someone who needed warmth. A warmth that, at first, had been too much for him to accept.

At first, she had hesitated. She wasn’t used to being tender with anyone, especially not someone like Severus. He had always been the quiet, brooding Slytherin who sat at the back of the classroom, his black robes swirling as he walked, his gaze sharp and unyielding. He wasn’t like the other boys she had dated. He was different. But there was something in his eyes—something broken and raw—that drew her to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

It had started with small gestures: a nudge of his shoulder in the library, a casual touch on his arm when she helped him with a potion assignment, the accidental brush of her hand against his as they passed in the hallway. Each time, Severus had stiffened, and his eyes had darted around to make sure no one else was watching. He was not the kind of person who let others in, and he certainly wasn’t used to the soft touches she gave him. But she had been patient, slowly making him realize that maybe, just maybe, he deserved tenderness too.

Tonight, however, was a new step in their relationship. As Y/N’s fingers worked through the dark strands of his hair, she could feel his body gradually relaxing beneath her. His breath had slowed, the hard line of his jaw softening, though his eyes were still closed, his face unreadable. She smiled softly to herself, savoring the quiet moment.

"Sev," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "You’re so tense."

He let out a low grunt, a barely audible sound that she had learned to recognize as an attempt to deflect. But this time, he didn’t pull away. Instead, his head tilted slightly, pressing a bit more into her lap.

Y/N’s fingers danced across the back of his neck, smoothing out the tension she found there. She could tell it wasn’t just his body that was tense—there was a quiet war inside of him, one that never seemed to let up. She had learned over time that Severus wasn’t used to kindness, especially not the kind she was offering. He had always expected the worst from people, and she suspected that the idea of someone being affectionate with him, expecting nothing in return, was as foreign to him as sunlight in the dungeons.

"I don’t know how you do it," Severus muttered, his voice muffled against her lap. "How you’re so... patient with me. People like me don’t deserve that."

Y/N stopped, her fingers stilling in his hair as she gazed down at him. Her heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, at the way he saw himself. She bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, just above his dark hair, before looking back at him.

"You do deserve it, Severus," she said softly, her thumb brushing across his cheek, her gaze sincere. "You deserve kindness. You deserve everything."

Severus’s eyes flickered open, a rare crack in his stoic demeanor, and Y/N felt her chest tighten at the rawness she saw in his gaze. For the briefest moment, it almost felt as though he was going to argue, to pull away and retreat behind his familiar armor of sarcasm and bitterness. But instead, his lips parted in a half-hearted sigh, and he allowed himself to relax once again, his hand reaching out and briefly touching hers.

Days turned into weeks, and the relationship between Severus and Y/N deepened, though not without its complications. They were both Slytherins, and in many ways, that made them more alike than different. Ambition, power, and cunning ran through their veins like blood, and neither of them had ever been the type to show vulnerability in front of others. But in the quiet moments, when the rest of the world was out of view, their bond became something entirely different.

They were never overt in public, never flaunting their affection like some of the couples who seemed to crave attention. They were more subtle, quieter. Y/N’s fingers would graze his during class, or she would pass him a quiet smile from across the room. They spoke in private whispers in dark corners of the library or in the shadows of the dungeons, where no one could overhear their conversations.

One afternoon, after a particularly brutal double Potions class with the Gryffindors, Y/N had found Severus sitting alone on a bench near the black lake, his brow furrowed in concentration as he stared out at the rippling water. She had approached him slowly, her footsteps light on the damp grass, and when she sat beside him, he had glanced at her but didn’t say anything.

She tilted her head to the side and studied him for a moment. His posture was stiff, his eyes narrowed, as if he were deep in thought—or perhaps deep in frustration.

"Sev," she said, her voice breaking the silence, "you’re brooding again."

Severus snorted quietly, though his lips twitched in the faintest of smiles. "You’re one to talk," he muttered, though there was no malice in his voice.

She raised an eyebrow at him, the corner of her mouth curling upward. "I’m not the one staring into the abyss of my soul, am I?"

Severus glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but this time, there was no bitterness in his expression—just something soft, something almost amused.

For a brief moment, they sat there in silence, the cool breeze sweeping through the air, ruffling the trees and the edges of their robes. Y/N reached out, gently taking his hand in hers, her thumb tracing the lines of his palm. It was an intimate gesture, but it was something they had done often over the past few weeks.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Severus murmured again, his voice quieter this time. He looked at her, his dark eyes searching hers with a depth that made her heart skip a beat. “How do you make it look so easy? This... this affection. I’ve never had it before.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words, and she leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, just beneath his ear. His skin was warm, and for a moment, she could feel the tension that had once been so ingrained in him begin to dissolve.

“You deserve it, Sev,” she whispered, her voice soft but firm. “All of it. You deserve all the affection I have to give.”

Severus didn’t respond at first. His gaze dropped to their joined hands, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might withdraw, retreat into the shadows as he had done so many times before. But then, slowly, his hand tightened around hers, his fingers brushing across her skin in the most gentle of ways.

"Then… maybe I’ll let you give it to me," he said quietly, his voice almost shy.

It was a small step. But it was the beginning of something new—a slow unraveling of the walls Severus had built around himself, piece by piece, kiss by kiss. And Y/N, for all her cunning and ambition, found herself willing to take it slow. Because for once, she wasn’t after power or success. She just wanted him.

And somehow, somewhere along the way, Severus had started to want her too.

Weeks later, as winter settled over Hogwarts, the two of them had fallen into a familiar rhythm. The touches had become more frequent, the kisses more tender. Even though they were both Slytherins—carefully calculating and often ruthless in their own ways—there was an unspoken understanding between them: in this space, away from the world, they could let their guards down. They didn’t have to be the cold, calculating snakes everyone else expected them to be.

In the quiet moments by the fire or beneath the shadow of the castle walls, when no one else was watching, Severus and Y/N had created their own world. And in that world, there was no need for masks. There was only warmth, affection, and the growing sense that they had found something rare and precious—something that didn’t need to be dissected or justified. It just was.

And that was enough.

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portraitofalinkonfyre · 2 days ago

Text

Burning Love

Chapter 10

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"Can I?"

You nodded, and he pulled the garment down in one smooth motion, baring you to their hungry gazes. Your face warmed when he placed his hands under your knees, spreading your legs wide open. Tongue darting out to wet your lips, you averted your gaze, feeling a bit embarrassed by the situation.

“No need for that,” Vio said, and your thoughts stuttered when he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “Let us make you feel good.”

Hooo boy, if you thought you weren’t going to survive this with your dignity intact earlier, you certainly were now. “Okay– ahh, shit, Red…!“

The crimson-eyed hero grinned, lapping slowly at the skin of your inner left thigh, hands holding your knees tightly to prevent any squirming, though it didn’t stop your hips from shifting over Green’s very obvious hard-on, drawing a garbled hiss from the man. You latched onto the sound in an instant, repeated the motion as Red laved countless licks and kisses to your shuddering flesh, slowly incorporating gentle bites to keep you on your toes.

Vio watched the proceedings with an amused expression, taking one of your hands and pinning it to the bed with his own, while Blue busied himself with the breast closest to him, kneading the sensitive mound with purpose.

It was a lot, being the center of attention like this, but you were determined to pay them back tenfold. No matter how much they tried to twist it, you had made a promise, and it was one you intended to keep.

You were torn from your thoughts when Red shifted, cheek nuzzling your right thigh. His breath fanned over your sex, and you shivered at the sensation. He grinned, and before you knew it, his tongue was dragging up the length of your pussy, stopping only to flick your clit before diving down with gusto. You squeaked, hips jerking, but Green quickly wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you right where they wanted you. Your head fell against his shoulder when he tugged on your hair, tracing your exposed throat with his teeth and tongue. “That’s it,” he cooed, voice rumbling against your skin. “You’re always working so hard.”

“Never relaxing, too,” Blue grunted, giving your nipple a reproachful pinch. You yelped at the sensation, flushing darkly when he chuckled. “’S about time we got you to relax a little, right, medic?”

Well, you would think later when you weren’t currently being licked into oblivion, that’s a kink I didn’t know I had. In the moment, though, you could only manage a sad little whimper, followed by a gasp when Red’s lips sealed around your clit, giving a powerful suck that threatened to steal the very soul from your body.

He gave a pleased hum. The muscles in your thighs flexed at the vibrations, your voice rising when a finger slid against your sticky folds, pushing inside to trace your gummy walls. It was too much and not enough all at once, and you weren't sure whether to lean in or pull away, so you simply did both.

Unfortunately, one of the perks of technically being the same person that that they were all on the same page, as you discovered when four sets of hands held you in place. Vio's was on your wrist, thumb tracing comforting circles over your pulse, and Green's wriggled under the tunic, rubbed over your ribs, thumbing patterns and shapes across your skin, while Red's hand splayed over your lower belly and Blue's gripped the unoccupied side of your waist.

Together and apart, they were strong, but you knew that if you truly wanted, you could push them off just as easily as Red's mouth drew sordid whimpers from your throat. You were fully capable of freeing yourself, but...

You had made a promise, and maybe, just maybe, you were as deserving of relaxation as they seemed to think you were. With that in mind, you allowed yourself to slacken in their grip, settling against Green's chest once more. It was at this moment that Red began to pump his finger in and out of your dripping cunt, quickly adding a second. The stretch burned, but it was the good kind. Your back arched when he began to scissor his fingers, curling them along your clenching walls.

Their eyes were on you, but the time for embarrassment had long since passed. Your torso began to shake when Blue dipped down, sucking a love bite right under the swell of your right breast, and you tangled your free hand in his hair, tugging gently. A garbled noise left the hero's mouth, and you latched onto the sound, pulling on the soft locks experimentally. "G-Good, honey?"

Blue groaned into your skin, and you took it as a sign, practically digging your fingers into his scalp in an attempt to give back a fraction of what they were giving you. He made another sound, and you couldn't help but shudder as the vibrations rattled through your ribcage, sloping down in heady zings to your core.

"Shit," you breathed–mostly because it was spur-of-the-moment and there weren't any words that could fully encompass the pleasure rocking through you--laying your head against Green's shoulder, shuddering when he took the opportunity to nip at your exposed shoulder, where his tunic sagged, revealing smooth skin just begging to be marked. "Please–"

"That's it," Vio purred, gripping your chin and tilting your chin in his direction. "Tell us what you want."

"I..." you paused to moan when Red's tongue slid against the lips of your cunt, stuffed full with his fingers. He caught your eye and winked, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue while maintaining unbroken eye contact. You whined at the display, hardly registering anything past the pleasure you were receiving.

Until Green's teeth pricked the side of your neck, right over your pulse point, and his voice rang promptingly through the room. "C'mon, tell us."

You swallowed, gathering your courage. "Please," their eyes were on you now, expressions dark with emotions you knew all too well. "I need..."

Blue's hand traced down to rub gentle circles at the apex of your sex, your thighs seized, and Red pumped his fingers harder, practically jamming them into you at the speed of light. "We know."

Your body began to shake, every nerve burning with sordid sensation, but something was missing. Rather, someone. Four someones. Gaze finding Red, crouched deliciously between your legs with an even more mouthwatering bulge in his pants, you panted: "Red," the hero perked up, as did the others, awaiting your next words. "I need you."

The crimson-eyed man flushed brighter than the sun, expression disbelieving. Saliva coated his mouth and chin, dripping down his neck in shiny rivulets. "Okay, um–"

"For the Goddesses sake," Blue grumbled. You yelped when a pair of hands seized your hips, dragging you into his own lap, face down, ass up. As if on cue, Vio's hands tugged the tunic down, allowing the fabric to pool just under your breasts, successfully exposing your ass and back to their hungry gazes. Green's fingers curled in your hair, lifting your face just enough to slip two digits in your mouth, which came in. handy when Blue's own fingers slipped into your perked entrance, far less gentle than Red's careful intrusion.

"Blue!" You cried, arms trembling as you struggled to hold your weight. Thankfully, Red scooted forward and lifted you by the armpits just as Green pulled his fingers from your mouth, setting your upper body in the crimson-eyed hero's lap, your face directly above... Hylia, when had he taken his pants off?

Something hot and heavy pressed against your thighs, and you realized all of them were naked, save for Green, who was still in the process of ridding himself of his pants.

Your thoughts snapped back to reality when Red's cock twitched, the tip bumping your upper lip. It was warm and wet, a beat of precum burbling at the head, and you realized that this was your chance.

"Don't choke 'em," Blue's voice emanated from somewhere behind you, fingers curling against your walls, but you steeled yourself, opening your mouth and swallowing as much of the hero's cock as you could manage. Red threw his head back, moaning louder than even you before he remembered to slap a hand over his mouth, just as Blue barked: "Hey! Did you not hear me?!"

"Fwuck wuu," you mumbled through a mouthful of dick, hands moving to grip the Red's hips, fingers splaying over his skin, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. His cock throbbed harshly in your mouth, dribbles of salty precum spurting on your tongue, and you swallowed it eagerly, relishing in the garbled moan the action elicited.

"Careful," Vio's hand cupped your chin, guiding it up until Red's dick fell from your mouth, shiny with spit as you took a deep breath, not bothering to wipe the drool running down your chin. "Don't push yourself."

You snorted, shooting back with a slightly shaky "It's cute that you think this is the worst I've been" that turned a whole lot less snarky when Blue's fingers curled, grazing that spongey spot within you with terrifying accuracy. Your body jolted, and Green was right there, stroking comfortingly down the length of your back. "Easy, you're doing great."

"I'm not going to break," you rolled your eyes–they were sweet, but you had a job to do, which is why you took Red in your mouth, gently shaking Vio's hand off your chin. The crimson-eyed hero groaned when you sucked, hollowing your cheeks for the best results, all the while perking your ass in Blue's direction.

"Oh, you minx," Blue's finger left your cunt, replaced sy something far more substantial. You chuckled against Red's dick when Blue gripped your hips tightly, pleased that your attempt had worked. It was about time they got a taste of their own medicine. "Do you have any idea what we're going to do to you?"

There was a loud pop as you drew up, one hand stroking over the head of Red's dick to make up for getting interrupted once again. "Does 'fuck me' cover it or do I need to get more creative?"

Vio snorted, and it was the last thing you heard before Blue practically slammed into you, your muscles stretching deliciously to accommodate him. Your entire body jerked, but you forced yourself to focus, dripping down to allow Red's cock muffle your moans. "I'm gonna have fun with you, medic."

Damn right, you thought, because it was about time! You swallowed around Red's dick when the head nudged the back of your throat, only mildly triggering your gag reflex. A concerned, horny noise left the crimson-eyed hero's mouth, and his hands flew to your scalp, presumably to tug you off, but you gripped his hips tighter, letting out a... well, you weren't exactly proud of the noise that left your mouth, but it certainly worked.

"Fuck," Red threw his head back, fingers gripping the strands of your hair, and you sucked harder, determined to make him cum. It was at this point that Blue finally grew tired of being gentle, setting a rough pace that may or may not have had your ass rippling with every thrust. "Please–"

Well, if that wasn't sweet? You obliged, bobbing your head in time with Blue's thrusts, only pausing to breathe and run your tune on the underside of his dick, relishing in the loud whimpers the action earned you. If it wasn't for your hands on his hips, you were sure he would have harpooned your throat by now, which was as enticing as it was terrifying. You swallowed thickly around him, and Red practically sobbed, fingers digging into your scalp as if he feared you would stop at any given moment. His voice pitched with desperation. "Hylia, ahhh, I'm–"

"Gwo hwed," you muttered through a mouthful of cock, one of your hands trailing down to gently fondle his balls. Red swore impressively as he came, hands leaving your scalp to fist the sheets, hips jerking shakily as cum flooded your mouth. It was thick and somewhat creamy, with a faintly-bitter undertone. You gulped down as much as you could, choking a bit when Blue's cock grazed your sweet spot at the very same moment, causing sticky rivulets to down your chin.

"Oh, fuck, that's hot," Blue snarled, grabbing your hair to jerk your head up, hips never once faltering, while Red scooted back to collapse on the sheets, sitting up on his elbows to watch the proceedings. Your hands scrabbled at the bed below, desperate to grab hold of something, anything, and it was a miracle when Vio appeared, deftly swatting Blue's hand away and guiding your arms around his neck, like he was encouraging you to hang on for dear life.

"That's it," Vio whispered, leaving forward to claim your lips in a heated kiss, hands roaming your clothed sides, tugging the tunic all the way open, freeing your breasts completely. He reached down, fingers finding your clit, and you practically screamed when he began to trace slow, deliberate circles over the sensitive nub. Blue growled, pace stuttering, when you clenched around him. the new position making it easier for him to hammer against that spongey spot within you. "So perfect for us."

You whimpered, head lolling against your right arm when he broke the kiss to lave licks and bites on the side of your neck, whining when Blue's pace grew erratic. "Shit, I-I'm gonna–"

"Cum for us," Vio commanded, and you did, letting out a shout as you squeezed around the blue-eyed hero, who's hips jerked one last time, a garbled hiss leaving his throat. Your body fell slack, every nerve practically thrumming with pleasure, as scalding warmth filled you. Blue's dick slipped from you, and you managed a small cringe from strings cum dripped down from your cunt, undoubtedly soaking the sheets below.

With a sigh, you allowed your hips to lower, plopping down on Blue's lap, who immediately patted your lower back comfortingly. "You okay?"

"Y-Yeah," you croaked, humming when Green's hand snaked under your chin, holding you in place as he pecked your lips softly. Blue moved into your field of vision, red-faced and cross-legged with a hand already stroking himself to full-mast.

"Do you want to keep going?" He asked, and you huffed good-naturedly at the feeling of his dick against your thigh, hard and leaking. It was almost cute that he thought you were done.

"Just kiss me, hero."

And kiss you he did, deftly hoisting you to sit in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs. A shiver raced up your spine when he cupped your cheeks in both hands, You responded by snaking your arms to his back, fingers digging into his flesh, feeling the way each individual muscle moved beneath your touch.

Green's tongue prodded at your bottom lip, and you opened up without hesitation, head tilting down to enhance the angle, welcoming the intrusion. His lips were warm, slightly chapped, and you couldn't have cared less, especially when his cock pulsed heavily against your thigh, nearly enough to make you dizzy with lust. A hand wrapped around your right thigh, lifting it up while another gripped your waist, and you yelped into the kiss, realizing who it was when a hard chest pressed against your back and Vio's voice whispered in your ear. "My turn, medic."

You shivered at the implications, breaking the kiss with Green when another pair of hands tilted your jaw, revealing Red's flushed face, crimson eyes blown wide with lust. He wasted no time in claiming your mouth, swallowing your moans when Vio's fingers delved between your legs, dragging through your folds and smearing the mess over your inner thighs. "You're doing great."

Easy for him to say, you thought, but it was quickly vanquished when the purple-eyed hero lined himself with your entrance, slamming home with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. A strangled groan tore itself from the depths of your throat as his cock stretched you, but it was muffled by Red's clever mouth, tongue halfway down your throat in his eagerness.

"So tight," Vio sighed, slowly rocking his hips. Your body tensed when he pulled out agonizingly slow, only to shove himself back in the very next moment, eliciting a full-body shiver as you felt your thoughts descend into madness. Terrible, pleasured madness that threatened to drive you insane with how tightly it had woven itself through every nerve in your body, set alight by their hands alone. You trembled when Vio found a rhythm, thrusts rendering you positively boneless, clinging to Red and Green for support, which they gave freely in the form of Green moving your arms to his neck and Red wrapping a supportive arm around your waist. Even Blue joined the fray, scooting over to palm the breast closest to him, thumb flicking your pebbled nipple.

After what felt like an eternity, your mouth disconnected from Red's, leaving you panting against his lips. It was too much and not enough, but Hylia, did it feel amazing. "Goddesses," you gasped, and someone chuckled as the tunic was finally pulled from your skin, tossed to the wayside.

"Feels good, hm?" Blue's voice filtered through the other, lewder sounds circulating the room, and you didn't have to look to know he was smirking. Your head turned, preparing to snap at him, but Green caught your mouth with his own, effectively silencing whatever comeback you had planned.

And, if that wasn't enough, a sharp smack landed on your ass at the exact moment, startling you from your reverie. "Shush," Vio ordered, and it was amazing how you could already picture the stern expression he was undoubtedly making. "Let us make you feel good."

They already were, for Hylia's sake! Not that you had a chance to voice that particular thought when Vio's pace increased, his balls slapping against your clit with each thrust whilst the head of his dick grazed your sweet spot over and over again. If it weren't for Green muffling your noises, you were sure your screams could have shattered the nearest windows, which was both impressive and terrifying.

Time seemed to drag on, your mind becoming hazier and hazier as the seconds ticked by. Before you knew it, Green released your lips, dipping down to nibble the shell of your ear while you collapsed into the junction between his neck and shoulder, panting with exertion.

Until Red's hand found your chin once again, tilting your head to face him. "Look at me," he said, and it was such an unexpected request that you did, eyes half-lidded as you soaked in the beads of sweat rolling down his temples and the flushed state of his cheeks. "Keep them open."

You nodded, breath stuttering when Vio's thrusts grew harder, but Red's gaze kept you grounded. It was a bit overwhelming, being the center of attention like this, and a part of you still couldn't believe this was happening, but it was. You felt it in the ways they touched you like you were made of the most delicate of glass, or how their eyes studied every one of your movements with rapt attention. This was love, you were sure, and nothing in Hyrule could keep you from it.

Your orgasm was fast approaching, heralded by a familiar tightening in your belly, and you fought to keep your eyes open, unsure of how long you would be able to keep this up. Thankfully, Vio didn't seem keen on dragging it out longer than it had to be, panting against the skin of your shoulder as he drilled into you, hands coming up to cup both of your breasts. You moaned loudly, trembling in Green's hold as you fought to stay lucid. "G-Goddesses, I can't–"

"You can," Red said, with a stern expression that didn't quite fit his face. His gaze darted down to where you and Vio were joined, and you flushed at the sight of him actively watching you get railed by another version of himself. "Just a bit longer, okay?"

You tried to nod, but the head of Vio's cock brushed a spot within you that had you seeing stars, hissing some garbled rendition of the word 'please', though you doubted any of them would be able to decipher it. Either way, you couldn't do this for much longer, but you were determined to hold out until all of them had cum at least once. It was practically your mission at this point.

Green, as if sensing your end, brought his hand around to move two fingers into your mouth, sliding the digits on the flat of your tongue before bringing them down to swipe over your slippery clit, making you cry out. Your entire body jerked when Vio growled, teeth sinking into the exposed meat of your shoulder as he gave one final thrust. A burst of warmth filled you, and you felt yourself go limp as your climax hit, like all the bones had been removed from your body, whining softly when the purple-eyed hero pulled away, both his and Blue's cum blurting from your entrance. It ran down your thighs in sticky rivulets, undoubtedly staining the floor below.

Vio chuckled softly, and you felt his hands on your ass, kneading the round globes softly. "Look at that," he crooned in a voice that had your core clenching. "You've gotten so messy, someone ought to clean that up."

"'S not gonna be me," you shot back, regaining enough of your strength to lift your head from Green's shoulder just to glare at him from over your shoulder. "It's your mess; clean it."

Something in Vio's expression darkened, and he looked like he was about to do just that, until Green cleared his throat.

"Later," the green-eyed hero said, and you were reminded of just how patient he had been in the form of his cock straining hotly between your thighs. You shivered when he stroked your cheek tenderly, gazing into your eyes with what you could only describe as pure adoration. "Can you go again?"

The question caught you a bit off guard, but you managed to nod, mostly because why the hell not? Your hips shifted to rest fully in his lap, with Vio reluctantly releasing your ass, and you took great pleasure in watching him shudder when your warm entrance pressed against the side of his cock, leaking with past loads.

Green's lips pressed against yours, tongue swiping sweetly at your bottom lip. Your arms tightened around his neck, one hand reaching up the grasp him by the hair, earning a deep groan from the man beneath you. Your gaze flickered to Blue, Red, and Vio, who had all taken up residence around you, cocks in hand as they hastily watched the proceedings. It made you feel like you were on a stage, so why not give them a show to match?

You lifted your hips when Green's hands found your waist, positioning his quivering dick at your drooling entrance, slick from previous activities. The head slid over your folds, bumping your puffy clit, and drawing an overstimulated whimper from you. "Fuck," you said eloquently, watching with half-lidded eyes as Red's cock jerked with each pump, shiny blobs of pre practically leaking from the engorged tip, while Vio had his mouth open, giving himself long, slow strokes, and Blue was biting his lip, almost furiously fisting the head of his dick. The knowledge that they were worked up like this–not to mention that it was for you–was downright delicious, though you knew you weren't in a headspace to properly appreciate it. Maybe next time.

"Easy," Green hissed when you sank down, taking him inch by inch until your hips met with a lewd squelch. You moved to rise, but he held you in place, looking a bit concerned at your undoubtedly out-of-it expression. "Are you sure–?"

"If you don't fuck me, I swear I will ask a favor from Twi–"

You yelped when he immediately lifted your hips, using the momentum to bring them back down in a manner that could only be described as earth-shattering, only to repeat the motion again and again. Even through the haze of exhaustion, it felt impossibly good, and a part of you was glad you had taken it slower earlier, otherwise you may not have survived as far as you did. "That's it," warm breath fanned over your cheek. "Just relax."

And relax you did, though it was a battle unto itself to keep your arms from slipping when he continued to drill into you.

"You're so pretty like this," Vio's voice emanated from somewhere to the left, and it didn't take a genius to hear the smirk in his tone. "Riding Green with your tits out and our cum running down your thighs."

The others voiced their agreement, but you were far too lost in the sauce to consider the full raunchiness of his sentence past 'I could cum from that alone' and 'that's so hot', which was well and good, except that the words only served to heighten the tension in your gut. You felt about as taunt as a bowstring when Blue drew close, still stroking himself with a fervor, followed by the others, surrounding you in a circle of sin.

Only when you heard the blue-eyed hero's groan and felt the tell-tale spray of cum against your quivering side did you realize what the little bastards were up to, though there was nothing you could do but curse under your breath, tone rising in pitch each time Green guided your hips up, allowing gravity to slam them back down.

It was like a dance, one that spiraled into madness as you bounced in Green's lap, while Red and Vio jacked themselves off just inches away, and the knot in your stomach reached a fever pitch when Green buried his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder, nuzzling at the unblemished skin before sinking his teeth into your flesh with enough force to make you yelp, though the pain quickly bled to pleasure when he angled a thrust at your sweet spot, one hand trailing down to rub enticing circles on your clit.

You finally came–arching with a garbled scream into Green's chest as he bucked into you, nearing his own end–when Red groaned loudly, mouth hanging open as his dick pulsed in his fist, sticky ropes of cum painting your hip and lower side, while Vio got more creative and aimed his orgasm to splatter directly on one side of your chest, which was hot as hell until it began to cool, though you were quickly distracted when Green rammed deep inside, filling you to the brim with a drawn-out groan.

Completely drained of any and all strength, you allowed yourself to slump against Green, not worried about falling when his arm wrapped snugly around your waist, keeping you in place as you came down from your high. "Holy..."

"That was amazing," Red was the next to speak, shuffling forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. "You're amazing."

"Thanks," you murmured with an exhausted grin, still reeling from everything that had occurred in the last... you didn't know, but more than a few hours had passed, judging by the fact that the sun seemed to be setting. At least you'd get a day to sleep before being forced to walk again.

"Think you can move?" Blue's grin was downright sinful as he drew close, one hand tipping your chin up. You tried not roll your eyes.

"That's fine," Vio interrupted softly. "We'll take care of you."

Like you haven't been doing that for the last few hours, you thought with a huff, though it quickly morphed into a soft murmur when you were lifted off of Green's cock and laid to rest on the bed, flat on your back as cum dripped from your used entrance. Fortunately, Red practically shot to the nightstand to grab the rags laid atop it, wetting it slightly using the complimentary pitcher of water. You shivered when he ran the cloth over your chest, the fabric passing over your stiff nipples. "Ah--"

"Shh," Vio's hands rubbed comforting circles on your hips as he sat between your legs, making sure you couldn't close your thighs yet. "You're okay, we're just cleaning you."

You made a noise, not trusting your voice to work just yet, and the rag continued in its quest, moving back to swipe tenderly at your sides and belly before dipping down to clean your thighs. You hissed in a breath when it brushed over your cunt, which had really begun to ache in the last minute or so. "Sorry, are you okay?"

"'M fine," you responded, knowing that it was nothing a good health potion couldn't fix. "'S normal."

"We're still sorry," Green joined the conversation, scooting beside your head with a remorseful expression. "You shouldn't have to--"

"Oh, stop it," you waved a hand weakly as Blue made his way over, laying a hand on your knee. "I'm a consenting adult and I would have said something if it wasn't normal, got it?"

"Yes ma'am," Blue chuckled, patting your thigh with a grin. "How do you feel?"

"Fucked," you managed to joke, only for Vio to pinch your belly. "Hey!"

"Be serious," the purple-eyed hero chided, thumb already smoothing over the affected area.

"Fine, fine," you relented, not wanting to incur anyone's wrath. "Tired."

"We'll let you rest," Green leaned forward to plant a smooch on your forehead, while Red's arms maneuvered under your arms, pulling you to rest against some pillows before collapsing directly to the left of you, snuggling into your side without preamble. Vio joined Red, moving higher so that he could maneuver one of your arms over for himself. Blue nuzzled into your unoccupied side, slightly nosing in your ribs, leaving Green to plop directly over you, face buried in your chest with a happy sigh. He wasn't heavy, so you let it slide, staring up at the ceiling with a quiet grin, now fully encased in sleepy heroes, not that you were blaming them, after what had just occurred.

"Love you all," you murmured, and it was the last thing you said before unconsciousness slipped forth, claiming you as its own, though the last thing you saw was none other than Green's head, which lifted so he could smile adoringly at you.

"We love you too."

And Hylia, if that didn't make everything worth it, you didn't know what would.

That's it, folks! I want to take this time to thank you all for supporting me and this story; you have no idea how much your comments/kudos/reblogs have helped me! Because of this, and the fact that I am incredibly horny for Four right now, I've decided to write a little 'extra' for this fic, so stay turned for more sin!

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #the chain x reader #link x reader smut #lu x reader #lu four x reader #loz smut #Burning Love #I was ovulating when I wrote this #fivesome #freak nasty #marathon sex #I'm going to hell for this

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elegantauthor · 3 days ago

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Saving Grace Chapter 17

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Aurora Stark

Summary: She was the Winter Soldier’s wife… wasn’t she?

Warnings: brief suicidal and bulimic ideation

Series Masterlist

As the last five minutes ticked by, Aurora wasn’t sure if she wanted them to pass agonizingly slow or for Zemo’s thirty-minute window to arrive, so she could just get dinner over with. Either way, he was not going to grant her the mercy of eating alone. She promised to make captivity miserable for him, and yet she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that if she pressed her luck, he might actually snap and hurt her.

She knew him to be calculating, perceptive, intelligent, and that was putting it mildly. He was able to destroy the Avengers. To quote Zemo, that was no small feat. She couldn’t make him feel anything, because he was inundated by grief, the walls around his heart too solid to penetrate.

Briefly, she empathized with him. She was no stranger to loss and grief. She’d lost Bucky during the Snap, only to lose her father in sacrificing himself to bring the former back. It was an unfair bargain, and she told her mother so, not once, but twice. Anger burned like a furnace, equivalent to the heat that emanated from Bucky’s body due to the serum, except hers didn’t emit a physical sensation—it had taken hold from within, subduing her powers. Because, what was a demigoddess of beauty to do with anger?

It interlaced her heart like thorns, prickly and tangled. It seeped in, slowly poisoning her, until one day she discovered she’d been cut off completely. From Aphrodite, from the full extent of her powers. She could make anyone do whatever she wanted with one alluring word, except she couldn’t. Not now, not ever again.

At the five-minute mark, Aurora sighed and dragged herself out of the room, downstairs, and into the dining room. Ostentatious. That was the only word to describe it. Granite and marble blended together to form a pattern of stone-like texture across every surface. Artwork adorned the walls, including Da Vinci. Polished utensils engraved with H.Z. decorated the countertops and the large, rectangular table.

Seated at one end, Zemo gestured for her to sit down. Reluctantly, she did—at the opposite end, far away from him. His glower did not go amiss, but Aurora was past caring. He’d kidnapped her, planned to exploit her powers for his benefit; he didn’t deserve her compliance.

Oeznik, Zemo’s kindly old butler, set down a plate in front of her. Roast, fingerling potatoes, and peas. It looked appetizing and smelled tantalizing, causing her empty stomach to revolt against her protest. Gods, she hated this. Without having to glance up, she felt Zemo gloating at her.

“You could starve yourself,” he acquiesced, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin, “but I do not believe you of all people would.”

He was right, of course. While she possessed a lot of pride and stubbornness, given she was raised by Tony, she was equally her mother’s daughter. She wasn’t about to let him win, not when there withstood a chance. She was a demigoddess, for crying out loud.

Stabbing the roast with her fork, she took a bite. The meat melted in her mouth like butter, and she couldn’t resist any longer. Eighteen hours was a long time to go without food and drink. As if he read her mind, Oeznik put a glass containing dark-purple-almost-black liquid in front of her. She picked it up and sniffed, recognizing the familiar scent at once. Elderberry.

Zemo shrugged nonchalantly. “You seemed to enjoy it in Riga.”

As she ate and drank her fill, Aurora couldn’t help but think she was somehow betraying Bucky. Would he want her to put up more of a fight, or would he rather her take care of herself, despite the circumstances?

“I have no intention of giving you back to the Soldat.” Zemo’s words from earlier distorted her thoughts.

There was a third option. She could eat and vomit it all up later, her own secret revenge plot.

Abruptly, Aurora stood from the table and sprinted from the dining room, up the stairs two at a time, flinging open the bathroom door. She knelt in front of the lavatory, exhaling shakily. Her heart pounded in her chest something fierce, as the tears clinging to her eyelashes splashed down her face.

Bucky and Sam were resourceful. The last remnants of the Avengers. Their mission to stop the Flag Smashers took precedence, but she was the Winter Soldier’s wife… wasn’t she?

Yes.

And she had to be strong… for Bucky, who had endured far worse from HYDRA, and survived.

Aurora picked herself up off the floor, knees threatening to give out beneath her slender frame. She clutched the doorknob, pushed herself to walk a little farther, before plopping down on the bed. The mattress dipped, and suddenly, she felt exhausted. She had no choice but to give in. Hunger and thirst quenched, she welcomed the blackness.

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction

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half-dead-ham · 4 hours ago

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Tim Drake's I.E.F Chap 5

[Previous chap][Ao3 chap][Masterlist][next chap]

Mmmmm this is probably gonna be the last chapter I link to Tumblr tonight. It's like, 2am? Yea I deserve some sleep. I'll hopefully get some more out tmrr. But who knows? Certainly not me.

Also. I have never pulled a prank on my sib and this chapter displays that fully.

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Looking over the plans on his laptop, Tim can't help but smile. It may be slightly maniacal, but with the plans he has, he couldn't help it.

Only a day has passed since Jason came to check on Tim, and since then he's been putting together a series of plans for his siblings. We're they good plans? No, not at all.

Tim, with the ready help of his new friend that could go both invisible and intangible had prepared a set of pranks specifically for each family member -minus Bruce and Alfred- in order of who needs it most. A few times while writing in the document he titled 'the shit list' he could hear his friend giggling from over his shoulder, the soft reverb sending chills down his spine that had nothing to do with the familiar cold his friend gave off. It was distracting, but it showed that Tim had gotten a bit closer with Arcturus, even if just a little bit.

"Alright," he nodded, giving the list one last look over before turning to where he could feel the epicentre of the cold.

"I have one last thing that'll make this perfect." Tim turned to rummage in his bedside table, absently noting the lack of strain such a movement had on his wounds. His hand brushed what he was looking for, and he pulled it out to show to Arct, laying the object on the palm of his hand. A compact surveillance camera sat neatly on his palm, perfect for watching the chaos unfold from the safety of his hospital bed in the medbay while his friend enacted righteous vengeance.

Arcturus must have grabbed the camera because it floated off his palm over to the bedside chair, turning every so often for his friend to get a better view of the device.

"Cool isn't it? We use these to keep tabs on some of the regular rogue hideouts, and sometimes infiltrations if we need a wire." Tapping a few things on his keyboard he brought up the camera's feed. A grainy image appeared, jumping and lagging every few seconds. Odd, this was supposed to be a newer model, there shouldn't be any interference with the signal, especially this close to the cam itself.

To his left Arct made a trill that sounded like clinking icicles and a feeling of understanding that wasn't his own washed over Tim. Frowning and looking over he watched his friend bring up the camera to what Tim thought would be about chest level, and just to its left sparked to life a green flame.

No, that wasn't quite right, the green pulsed and warbled, but it stayed mostly circular, not pointed like a candle's flame. The light moved closer to the camera and Tim could just make out the silhouette of his friend's pointed claw before it made contact. Touching the light to the camera seemed to affect it somehow, as he watched the camera absorb the light fully, glowing slightly before that too faded into the device.

Tim wondered just what Arct had done to the device until the laptop in front of him notified him with a ding!

'New power source detected, convert?' He'd never seen that pop-up before. Cautiously glancing back over to the chair, he clicked the 'accept' button and watched as the program closed, then opened back up a second later. The camera feed now had a slight green tint to it, but the glitching and static had stopped. 'Whatever Arct had done to the camera probably counteracted the interference his aura gave off,' Tim figured.

He turned to his friend to give his thanks, but the words died on his lips as he watched the small figure of the camera flicker and disappear. Trying to find them was useless, his friend could obscure the cold feeling he gave off when he wanted, even Tim couldn't find him. Tim turned back to the footage on his laptop only to get jumpscared by a closeup of his own face.

A ghostly giggle echoed in front of him as Tim groaned. Arcturus really did fit perfectly in this family if he was already scaring him like that for no reason.

"Okay, okay, enough playing around. Ready to start a war?" He grinned, sharp and feral. He could only imagine Arct was doing the same as the camera came back into view to bob up and down rapidly.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny first tracks down Stephanie in the library. The blond Danny's come to know as Spoiler is lounging on one of the many couches in the large room with a book in hand and a glass of water on the small table next to her. Too focused on her book, she reaches over to get her drink without looking. She frowns, she knew she put her glass close by, but she can't find it by touch alone.

Frowning, she finally tears her gaze from her book to the end table beside her, only to find her water, sitting innocently where she had left it. Taking and inspecting it reveals nothing out of place with the glass or the table. Stephanie says nothing as she looks out to the rows of bookshelves, then behind her and the couch, trying to find anyone to place blame, but she was alone. Or so she thought.

Turning back, she shrugs to herself and tips the glass to take a sip, only to yelp as a large ice cube slid out of the cup and onto her nose. She jumps back in her seat, startled, at the solid chunk of what used to be her drinking water now sitting in her lap. Hesitantly, she pokes at it, expecting it to seemingly explode. Once, twice, three times all come up with something cold but solid. The fourth time her nail lightly grazes the side and suddenly she's drenched from the waist down in room temperature water.

She rushes to her feet, pants soaked and dripping onto the carpet. Again, she looks around for anyone in the room, even glaring at the high tops of the bookshelves, expecting one of her family members to jump out and tell her she just got pranked. But again, she's alone in the library. Danny lets a breathy chuckle escape him as he watches Stephanie glare accusingly at nothing, then her soiled pants, and finally storming out of the library, book now forgotten. He makes sure the book is left on another couch in case she comes back. Then floats off to find his next target.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian is in his room working on that day's portion of homework when he feels a presence. An all too familiar presence that reminds him of a time before he lived in the manor.

A dangerous presence.

He spins around in his chair, previously concealed dagger now in hand. The room hasn't changed, his weapons are still perched in their displays on his wall, the curtains sway lightly in the mid afternoon breeze. Paranoia runs through him like electricity as he crosses the room to close the window, certain of what he felt. Pit demons could not be seen by normal men, they were monsters spawned by the Lazarus pits to bring chaos and madness for all those trying to use their powers. If there were a pit demon in the manor, they would all be dead before long.

Moving back to his desk in slow movements, Damian tried to pick up on that familiar feeling. The feeling of unchecked desire and death. He found an empty room.

This did not comfort him.

Damian took another dagger out of its hiding place just as he heard the door handle rattle. Tearing the door almost off its hinges he raced after that presence through the house, down corridors and ballrooms, stairways and secret passageways. The presence finally stopped in the main foyer. Damian scanned the entrance room with daggers drawn, trying to sense where the thing had disappeared to.

Just as the tension started to leave his shoulders with the thought of 'needing more sleep, lest he end up like Drake' a snowflake landed on his nose. He looked up just in time to see a mound of snow fall on him in a whump! leaving only his head and neck exposed. With his body restrained, Damian could do nothing as the pit demon's presence glides back up the main staircase and disappears down a corridor, static hissing conveying its glee in its wake.

Damian returns to his room cold and damp, a blanket on his shoulders and mug of warm cardamom milk in his hand. Swinging the door open Damian is outraged to see all his weapons, hidden ones included, painted and arranged on his floor in the forms of several different flowers. He growls and glowers at nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim made sure to save Duke for last, as his powers might give Arct some trouble. Danny doesn't know exactly why a guy like Duke is on 'the shit list' but doesn't question it if it means getting to prank someone.

The meta is currently using the training space in the cave to practice grapples and throws in a simulation.

A cold chill runs up his spine and he blocks a punch. Duke knows no one besides Tim is in the cave, and he shouldn't be up and running around yet, so otherwise Duke is alone. The simulation ends, Duke bent over with hands on his knees as he tries to steady his breathing. Something passes behind him, cold and charged, like a broken power line in the middle of winter. He glanced behind him, breathing having levelled out some, but sees nothing. Looking over his other shoulder provides similar results.

Suspicious, Duke calls out to the empty room.

"Hello?" His voice echoes in the silence of the cavernous room. Something else replies, a cold haunting whisper of a laugh. It has no source that he could see, bouncing off the stone walls and seemingly coming from every direction. The black and white streak from the corner of his vision is the final straw, he needs to nope the heck out of here.

Taking quick strides out of the training room, he only makes it past the threshold when something grabs his ankle. He tries to jerk away but the thing's grip is strong, keeping him bound to that spot on the floor even as he's leaning back with his full weight. It's grip on his ankle loosens ever so slightly after a moment, and Duke hopes he's able to get away with that smidge more wiggle room.

His heart plummets as a sensation radiates out from the grip, cold like spearmint and chilled water. It envelops him, and for a second Duke feels weightless.

Then, the thing pulls.

Duke is pulled through the floor, scream caught in his throat as stone and dirt pass through him and the unseen being. He tries to see what has him, but this darkness doesn't respond as it would normally. His X-ray vision doesn't help either, as it just shows him more earth and the sewers below Gotham.

A sinking feeling slips into the pit of his stomach as he wonders if he'll be left down here, were the thing that has him let go. That thought was jerked away with him as the being dragged him up up up and breaches land. It was all he could do to not cry from relief at seeing the late Gotham sky when gravity reasserted itself and the pressure on his ankle vanished. He dropped face first into the grass.

"Owww…" Duke groans. Laying there seems like the better option as he tries to get his heart rate under control for a different reason than before. Rolling over takes more energy than he'd like, but it's worth it if it means he's not inhaling grass. Cracking one eye open he does not expect to see a shadowy figure leaning over him, it's green eyes peering at him, inspecting him like a specimen. He lays as still as he can, not wanting to breathe as this creature's eyes wash over him like a tiger watching an antelope.

The things eyes travel up to his face, and a cheshire grin manifests itself in the roiling black of its face, stark white in contrast and with too many teeth. 'Ah, I'm going to die' was all Duke could think before the thing lunges. Screwing his eyes shut might have been the last thing he ever does…

A few minutes pass and nothing happens. No pain or cold could be felt anywhere on his body, so he cautiously cracks an eye open. Blue sky overhead, trees and the manor in the distance, but no sight of the black thing that literally dragged him here. Duke sits up slowly, turning his head to try and see the thing.

It's gone.

He could almost think it was a dream if he didn't have to walk all the way back to the manor in his workout gear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The prank war—more of a slaughter really—went on for the next two days. At random hours strange things will go on around the three siblings still in the manor, things disappearing and reappearing in other locations, water turning to ice when they blink and back again, strange noises or cold spots in empty rooms. It all leads up to dinner.

Tim had been given the okay from Alfred to exit medbay and eat solid food. Alfred had marvelled at Tim's speedy recovery—no one heals from a bullet to the lung in a week and a half—but made sure to drill into him that he wouldn't be doing any strenuous work, during the day or night.

Tim was okay with that, he thought as he sat down and watched as the others set the table around him. The three targets were haggard and paranoid, jumping at shadows (in Duke's case literally.) Arcturus was around somewhere close, he had hidden his presence as Tim hobbled up the stairs with Alfred's help, and Tim wondered if he'd be able to get away with anymore pranking today.

With the table set, the three sat across from Tim, stiff and uncomfortable. Tonight's dinner would be soup, mainly because Tim still had to recover, but there was a side of steamed vegetables and buttered bread to be dipped if preferred.

They sat in tense silence, Bruce late again, as always. Smirking, Tim tried to make conversation with his three siblings.

"So, anything interesting happen around here while I was rotting in bed?"

Damian scowled and glanced to his left, towards Bruce's chair. Duke paled by at least two shades, and Stephanie's eye twitched.

"Nothing happened Timmy, we're all just peachy." Steph ground out. Man she was really on her last straw.

Good.

He watched absently as a piece of steamed broccoli dropped into the plate. 'So Arct was hiding under the table' he thought as he tried making more small talk with his siblings.

"Y'know I've been hearing some strange things down in the cave, I'm almost starting to believe it's haunted." He says with a chuckle. Not like he was wrong.

The elbow to the shin both confirms where Arct is and tells him maybe that joke was in bad taste if the ghost doesn't want to be noticed.

Damian's glare told him he didn't miss the minute flinch he gave at that. Neither did Duke apparently, as his brow furrows. Damn detective training. Luckily Steph is still trying to burn a hole through her bowl with her eyes like Superman.

After that they eat in silence. The sound of clinking cutlery and shuffling in seats fills the room. At one point Duke seems to notice Tim's disappearing veggies, despite Tim not eating them. He drops his spoon, and it clatters off the table with a sound that could have been a gunshot in the quiet dining room.

"Ope, sorry,'' he mutters sheepishly as he scoots his chair back enough to bend down and get it.

As he's bent over, Duke looks over to Tim's side of the table. He nearly jumps out of his skin as he watches the thing, just sitting against his brother's legs, pulling a carrot through the table and putting it in its mouth. He must've made a noise or something, because the thing snaps to look at him with those toxic green eyes. A black appendage lifts for it to wave at him, that Cheshire grin curling out of its face with too many teeth.

Duke jumps back, hitting his head on the underside of the table and falling out of his seat. He scrambles out from under the table to see his three siblings staring at him. Pointing a shaking hand at the thing at Tim's feet he croaked, his voice cracking in fear.

"Something-" He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, "-Something's under the table."

Damian shoots to his feet, newly revealed dagger in hand. Stephanie bolts up too, backing away slowly from the table like it might eat her if she moves too quickly.

Yeah, Tim might have just screwed up.

The frosty sensation pressing against his leg vanishes and he could see Duke gaping at him from the floor. Right, Intangibly, Arcturus probably went through the floor and is gonna hide out in the cave for a while until dinner is over. Tim inwardly let out a sigh of relief. Time to cover his ass.

"What's wrong Duke? Saw a spider or something?" Tim grins down at the other boy from his seat.

"What? No! I saw this, this thing! It was this smokey black thing with green eyes and way too many teeth!" Duke is still pointing at his legs under the table, like Arct will just come back for funsies.

Tim absently wondered if that's what Jason saw, looking at Arcturus. He never gave a description of his friend, even though he came back a few days later. Though he did get pranked by them. They got found out pretty quickly and started talking about other ways to mess with the family after that.

"Tt, so you can see the pit demon then, unsurprising." Damian scowled in Tim's direction, was he taking his anger out on Tim like that? Maybe.

"Wait, hold on-" Steph points at Damian. "-You know what this thing is? And you haven't told us?" She accused.

"I had it under control, it did not seem important as it had not yet tried to harm anyone as of yet." Damian retorted.

"Harm anyone? That thing is violent?!"

"Normally, those of its species are, yes."

Their shouting soon devolved into bickering, their feelings of suspicion and paranoia finally being released in the form of a shouting match as Duke remained frozen on the floor staring at Tim from under the table.

Tim propped his chin on his fist, elbow on the table as the show went on. Honestly this could use some popcorn.

Just as he was getting comfortable Duke squinted at him.

"You knew about that thing, didn't you?" The suspicion was palpable in his voice.

"Knew about what?" He asked innocently.

"The thing! It was up against your legs, you would either have noticed it and tried to get away or you already knew about it!"

Oh, shit. The other two had died down in their shouting match to look at him now. Not good.

Tim tries deflecting, "Duke, I've been tired and sore for a week and a half, you really think I'd be noticing if my legs felt a little chilly?"

The arguing turned into a four-way match. He tried valiantly to deny all accusations thrown at him, but he was up against three other bat-trained detectives, he was bound to let something slip.

"Are you telling us," Damian ground out, "that you just let a dangerous supernatural creature follow you to the manor? Not only are you an imbecile, but you are suicidal as well."

"I didn't let it follow me, I was unconscious. Dick let it follow him." He countered, full face in his hands. This really did not turn out the way he wanted it to.

"And so, what? You just decided 'well they didn't believe me about this, so let's get back at them a little?'" Stephanie had stopped shouting, but the anger was still hot in her voice.

"Basically," he shrugged.

The three across from Tim were about to start berating him, again, when Bruce finally showed up. He looked at the three angry teenagers on one side of the table, then Tim trying to disappear into the chair cushions on the other.

"Did I miss something?" He asked.

His siblings wanted to regale Bruce with his stupidity, but Tim cut them off before they could start.

"They were just telling me how stupid it was of me to try and have coffee with dinner so soon into my recovery." He lied.

Bruce shot a stern look at Tim as he sat down. "And they're right, you're barely out of medbay Tim, coffee won't do you any good right now."

Tim gave a noncommittal hum at that.

The dinner moved quickly after that. Glares were not so subtly shot his way and he no longer felt the same joy he did at the beginning. He decided to cut his losses and retire to his room early.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'This did not go how I thought it would,' Tim thought as he not so gently shut his door and flopped onto his bed. At least he could hole himself up in his room now, so that's a positive.

A cold presence nears his right and gives a small hum, the noise conveyed concern and regret. Arct felt sorry for leaving him? It was his own fault he got himself into that mess. He turned his head from where it was smashed into the mattress to look at where his friend sat, the bed dipping slightly at the invisible weight.

"Not your fault," Tim mumbled through the sheets. "I thought of the pranks, you just did them for me. You still don't trust me enough to even show yourself, and I put you in a dangerous spot for some fun."

He glumly turned his head back into the sheets. He knew his friend didn't trust the bats, he knew Damian knew about pit demons from Jason, yet he still thought using his friend and possibly outing him to his family was a good idea. Stupid, stupid! Tim let out an anguished groan, wallowing and repeating depressing thoughts like a mantra in his head.

All thoughts screeched to a halt when something ran over his scalp. He looked up, expecting not to see anything but instead found a floating white glove carding its fingers soothingly through his hair. Tim felt his eyes flutter as he practically melted into the mattress, his previous thought spiral completely forgotten.

A Trilling chirp sounding of a connecting audio jack moved a question through the air, one simple enough Tim could decipher clearly; better? Leaning into his friend's touch he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Thanks for helping me get out of my head. Sorry I had to tell them some things about you, Dami will probably try and stick around me now to make sure you aren't going to hurt anyone."

The fingers continued their paths through his hair as a trill of understanding filled him. Man, he'd made a great friend.

They continued like that in silence for a while, a floating white glove carding through Tim's hair, and Tim condensing into a puddle on the sheets from the comforting ministrations.

At Tim's yawn, the fingers stopped. Tim groaned at the loss. He looked hazily to his friend, silently urging him to continue. His friend responded with a cold wind rustling branches, the meaning of rest drew another groan from the puddle of teen. Ever so slowly he got up to go to the bathroom and get ready for bed, swaying slightly on his feet occasionally. Arcturus was still there when he got back, with clean pyjamas and a washed face. Tim crawled back into bead and was delighted when the fingers returned to his hair, accompanied by the purr he'd heard on the first night he'd met Arcturus, promising safety and sleep. The petting didn't stop until soft snores could be heard in the dark bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was feeling hungry. His stomach had been roaring since he smelled dinner and it only got worse since stealing the veggies off Tim's plate. Maybe not attending to his human needs for a week and a half wasn't the greatest idea in retrospect, but the need for safety came first. He was currently in a house filled with highly trained and suspicious heroes and hero adjacents, he needed to be more than careful here, or he'd get caught by someone less friendly than Tim and Jason.

Still, he was hungry, and he probably needed a shower. After making sure all the vigilantes' returned from their patrols and tucked themselves safely in their beds, Danny used one of the furthest of the many spare bedroom ensuites (seriously how many rooms does this mansion have?) to scrub all his built up grime away. Not that he sweat or got dirty in ghost form, really, he just phases all the dirt off him, but nothing felt better after a week of stress than a shower.

It was heavenly.

Phasing the water off while in the tub would save the suspicion of a damp towel in an unused bedroom. He got dressed in his most recently washed clothes, thanking his past self for going to the laundromat before all this went down as he stuck his stuff back in the wall.

Danny crept down the winding halls of the manor towards the kitchen, remembering each turn from when he'd explore invisibly while Tim was asleep. Adding a little ghost power aided his steps to be deathly silent.

The kitchen was dark, not that it bothered Danny, as he made a B-line for the fridge. Opening it revealed a treasure trove of ingredients, fruits and veggies, meats and cheese, truly a fridge fit to serve five to twenty people at a time.

He grabbed a carrot and shoved it in his mouth, satisfied he had that to munch on. Danny started cherry picking other snacks, trying to make sure he could get somewhat of a balanced meal out of his pilfering.

The slight rustling of fabric made him stiffen, then a voice behind him had his core sink to his stomach.

"Master Jason, I do believe I have told you to send an advanced notice before you decide to come for a late-night snack," Alfred scolded the large silhouetted form.

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Danny didn't move from his hunched position, unsure of what to do. He couldn't lie to the butler, he knew Jason much better than Danny did and would be able to smell the lie as soon as he turned around. Running wouldn't help either, Alfred had seen him. In human form. He'd tell Bruce as soon as he could. 'A mysterious man had bypassed all the detection alarms and raided the fridge early this morning' would send the bat on a search of the manor, top to bottom.

"Master Jason? Are you alright?"

Ah, he'd stayed quiet too long, shit.

The rustling of cloth came closer and in a panic Danny went invisible. A sharp inhale was the only indication of Alfred's surprise, and turning showed the man searching the room with eyebrows raised. Slowly the butler walked to the fridge, taking graceful, sturdy steps as he glided across the kitchen, expecting an attack. As he grabbed the handle of the open fridge door Danny turned intangible to let the door pass through him.

Alfred jerked his hand back as it went through Danny's chest, feeling as though he'd just stuck it in a bucket of dry ice. He'd tried to find the cold spot again, but by then Danny had already flown through the ceiling to Tim's room, the food in his arms forgotten.

Dropping his snacks to the floor as he made it to the correct bedroom Danny rushed to the sleeping form before him and shook him.

"Tim, Tim wake up!" He whisper-shouted, not caring if he was speaking English instead of ghost speak. "Tim, I need your help!"

Tim rolled over, groggy and half asleep.

"Whazzap?" He slurred before yawning.

"Your butler saw me."

"What?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#danny phantom #danny fenton #tim drake #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #batman #dc x dp #ham writes #chapter fic #chapter 5

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rise-my-angel · 17 hours ago

Text

Heart of the Great Wolf

A Small Bundle's Flash Forward

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (One Sided)

Length: 13.5k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, allusions to postpartum depression, distressed crying infant, fears of child neglect, insecurities and anxiety, modern!au

Notes: Just a little flash forward to hint at the future to come of our little modern au. Previous Chapter Here. Series Masterlist Here

You should’ve been able to handle it. Catelyn said she’d only be gone a few short hours, you needed to be able to handle it. It wasn’t as if this was your second day as a mother, just the second on your own.

Jons leave had run dry, he used up his off time as much as he could but he had a duty. He could no longer put off going back to work, and he was needed at his station at the Wall more then he was needed here, and nothing he could do here would help them there. He was always very hands on, and you didn’t want to ruin that by making him think you couldn’t handle this. Besides, you were still staying in the main Stark house, and Catelyn had taken time off herself for the first two days to help you now since Jon was gone.

But, there was one hangup. Just for part of the afternoon today, she had an appointment she couldn’t miss that would take a few hours. It would be fine. Until it wasn’t. Until you started feeling overwhelmed and very alone and little Eddard picked up on it. And it started to effect him. Slowly that built between you both in the late morning when Catelyn was leaving but you hid it enough to swallow down and say you would be fine. When you saw the car disappear down the road and now there was no one anywhere on the vastness of the Stark property but you, did it kick in.

The crying, the trying to figure out what little Eddard wants only to try everything and none of it worked. You felt that burn in your face in an unpleasant manner and it only grew and grew until you felt yourself starting to shake at the need to let it all out.

But, not even an hour had passed. You had two, likely three to go before Catelyn got back. You were still alone.

Presently you stood in the kitchen, little Eddard in his cozy carrier sitting high up on the smaller table tucked away for more casual, small meals but you were entirely faced away from him. Your palms braced against the counter top near the sink as your eyes were squeezed shut. Shaking where they kept you upright, as did your legs, your lungs begun to burn as you failed to hold it all back.

He just wouldn’t stop crying, and you didn’t understand why. You didn’t know what he needed, what was wrong, and nothing even slightly calmed him down for the past twenty minutes. Before you could stop it, a sob came from your lips as the tears behind your closed eyes fell down your cheeks regardless of what you wanted. For almost a month, Jon had always been with you. Both of you could figure it out together.

Catelyn helped yesterday when she saw you were feeling overwhelmed, but today you were alone with the baby for the first time and it only proved something too scary to have thought about before hand. But now, stood over the sink as tears fell and you no longer felt the ability to hold back each cry that accompanied them, you felt that fear rise up your throat with each sob. You weren’t good at this.

You were a terrible mother. Almost a month and the first time you were left alone you failed him, and now you couldn’t even loath yourself in silence as the constant reminder behind you was that you weren’t good enough to be the mother to Jons child. He deserved better, he deserved someone who didn’t let his son cry and cry because you were too stupid to know what he wanted.

A hand shot up trying to cover your mouth, as if there was even anybody around to hear you. But the strength it took to even hold it up as you shook was too much, dropping it down to the counter once more before moving with it. Your head hanging as you propped up by your elbows, your hands wrapping up and covering your head as if hiding from danger but it was just you failing to hide from the world.

The harder you begun to cry, so did the baby. You could hear him getting more distressed and each rise in volume did your heart hurt. You didn’t know what to do, and your poor baby boy must hate you for it, for not knowing what he needs the way Jon always does. Half turning your body to look at little Eddard, you only felt a new wave of tears fall even if you didn’t have new sobs to accompany. His little arms were free from his swaddle like he had been fussing for minutes to flail them around and you knew that was making it even worse.

A stuttering inhale came before you tried wiping the tears away only for more to fall, and eventually you stopped trying. Pushing up to your feet properly, you walked gently over to him, a smile failing to sit convincingly on your face as you reached a hand down to sit on his front, but it didn’t do anything. Not even your voice helped, as cracked and strained as it sounded like more cries were sitting just beyond the horizon. “I know, I’m sorry.”

Reaching down, he fussed with you the whole time as you tried to swaddle him once more. It took twice as long as it normally did and three times as long then when Jon was here to do it with you. His little face continued to sit scrunched up with cries as you had to stop yourself from being too overwhelmed. The sound almost wasn’t the issue anymore, he was so loud and you felt numb to his volume, it was the crying that did it. The upset, the need for his mother to help him when she wasn’t good enough to do so.

Wrapping him properly again, you picked the carrier itself up and moved back into the main living room where you spent much of your day yesterday as well. Everything sat out for the baby around but the only company you might’ve seen today, had disappeared too. The direwolves were downstairs. The sounds too much and they needed quiet to nap and so they left as well, not that you blamed them.

Sitting it down, you picked him up from the carrier, blanket around him to hide from the cool air even by the coziness of the fireplace nearby. Holding him close, you started trying to rock him, but it didn’t help. He just kept crying, and you couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Each time you thought you were finished, your eyes stung and watered all over again.

Perhaps another half hour passed, your voice strained from crying to murmur soothing words which fell on deaf ears to little Eddard and your heart hurt. You had seen your phone light up multiple times now, and you could only guess it was Jon trying to either message you or maybe call you if he had the chance, but even if you could check, you didn’t want too. You didn’t know how to lie to him and say everything was fine, and if he wanted to hear your voice, it would be impossible to do so without giving away the baby was crying to the point it was making you cry.

He was to be gone until tomorrow afternoon, almost a full fourty eight hours was demanded of him when he returned. Him needing to arrive and go north of the Wall almost right away. It clearly hurt him to leave. Very early yesterday morning he had to head out, waking you up with a guilt. He wanted to let you sleep, but he also didn’t want to just leave you on your own after three weeks of spending every day together raising the baby. You had whispered a sleepy promise you would be fine, wanting him to go with a confidence that it would be alright and you’d send him any updates and photos or videos so he didn’t feel left out.

But he hadn’t gotten anything today beyond your reply to his good morning message. You didn’t want to lie and had no good photos to take that wouldn’t give away how badly you were doing. So instead, you let your phone screen turn black once more. Trying to ignore the blinking blue light reminding you to check your messages as you rocked little Eddard in your arms. Your voice no longer trying to calm him down, you ran out of things to say or things to try and now you both were alone in the house falling apart and it was your fault.

The sounds were so loud that you didn’t hear it. Not the sound of a car in the distance, nor it parking outside or even the front door opening and closing. You heard none of it because all you could hear was your sons cries, it now broaching almost fourty five minutes straight you had failed to do what he needed. Whatever it was.

He called your name, but clearly you didn’t hear him until you sensed someone behind you. Half turning, you thought you’d see Catelyn but instead it was a surprise, if you had the energy to feel that emotion. Robb stood a few feet as if he was about to reach out to you, but caught your gaze and the sight suddenly made sense to him. The baby crying loud and endlessly, and you were clearly crying and had been for a while as your eyes turned red and everything about your face looked like it was going to fall apart.

Turning back, you felt a wave of embarrassment that you had been caught being such a bad mother. You assumed Robb was about to judge you for it, a scold of what you were doing wrong when he didn’t do any of that. Coming close behind you, Robb let his hands run firmly down your upper arms back and forth, his warm voice leaning more to your ear to start easy and calm you down if nothing else, saying your name. “My mother?”

Shaking your head, you barley could get out, “At an appointment.”

You still hadn’t looked at him, but Robb stepped closer. “Looks like you two have been at this for a while now.” A far more audible cry left you, only making the baby more upset in turn. Robb shushing you instantly, turning you to the room properly. Your feet felt like they moved on their own as he moved you towards one of the couches. “Sit down for me, at least.” Kneeling in front of you as you sat cradling the crying baby, Robb looked like he felt a pain at the sight but remained calm much like Catelyn had done for you yesterday. His eyes matched hers and it was clear who Robb inherited such a calm side to him from when it came down to it. “How long has he been like this?” Answering almost an hour at that point, he then asked next how long you had been like this and the answer was rather close.

Pulling the fabric around little Eddards head back a bit, he got a better look at his nephew with a softer look on his face. Reaching down to run a thumb along his cheek before skipping upwards to cup yours, making you look properly at him.

Firmly he found his voice, “I think it’s possible that he’s crying this much because you’re crying.” Trying to stammer out that he was upset before, he only smiled a bit knowingly. “That’s because you were upset too, love.” Your brows furrowed, but Robb kept his calm despite the crying being right at his level. “When we trained the direwolves, it was like they mimicked us. If we trained them well, they listened to us. If we weren’t firm, then they ran amok like Nymeria or Shaggydog.”

That got barley half a laugh out of you, knowing how accurate that seemed to reflect on Arya and Rickon both.

Robb let his hand move from your cheek to the side of your neck a bit more of a steady place to keep your attention on him. “You’ve done everything that he might actually need, yeah?” Waiting for you to nod, he tilted his head. “Alright, then, that only leaves one option. We only can calm him down, by calming you down.”

Your brows furrowed, but he leaned forward more to your space to ensure you heard him as he continued. “Stay here, try to breathe. I’ll get you something to eat, and we’ll go from there.” Robb didn’t move until you nodded, leaning up to press a kiss to the top of your head before running a hand over the top of little Eddards head and walking to the kitchen just out of sight.

A little better you could hear him rummaging around, at least it was another sound in the house but the crying. You felt hollow and painful in your chest still, but not quite as in need to cry as before. You weren’t sure if little Eddard quieted down yet, but maybe you were holding him a bit more confidently and comfortingly, as even through his cries, did he turn his little body more to hide in your front.

Only gone for about ten minutes, but it felt a lifetime waiting for him to come back.

Looking up wide eyed at him, you held the baby a bit tighter not knowing what you were supposed to do here, as if suddenly all senses had left you now that you had the time to think and feel. Sitting the plate on the small coffee table in front of you, Robb sat beside you. Closer then he normally would, but as if he sensed you might have needed something to comfort you, and chose close space to do so.

Holding his arms out, you looked over to him in a question when he nodded down to the baby, still crying. “Can’t eat if you’re holding him, now can you?” Trying to interject, he shook his head, leaning forward as he begun to place his hands around the crying bundle with a more gentle murmur. “Not the first time I’ve ever held a crying baby.”

Nodding, you slowly let him help you transfer the baby in his arms, watching for a moment as he instantly looked down with a furrowed brow. Almost confused for a moment as to how he was so calm, but the crying just didn’t bother him. Just as he had with you, gentle shushes came from him down to the baby, small mutterings to him of nothing trying to ease his tension before meeting your gaze. A pointed expression on his face and you read the intentions right away of what he was telling you.

Carefully picking up the plate you sat it on your lap, gently starting to eat what he had made you. Only getting through a few hard to swallow bites as you felt your head clear once more enough to feel embarrassed. The tears still streaked down your face, how you, your hair, everything of you looked a complete mess, and he always so well put together. Slowly your head dropped, trying to get at least half way through as your eyes only glanced occasionally to the baby still crying, but not quite as loudly.

“Causing your mother enough trouble today, are you?” Glancing back once more, you watched Robb easily talk to little Eddard as if nothing was wrong. “She hasn’t gone through enough? I know, you’re upset that she’s upset.” A smirk sat across his lips as he looked to you with a knowing playful expression, “Both stubborn, you two are.” It barley got even a partial smile out of you for half of a second, but at least it was something.

By the time you finished, you moved to stand only to have Robb stop you. “Robb I can-”

Cutting you off, he nodded for you to put the plate down as he turned more towards you to hand you the baby instead. “You stay here, I’ll do this.” Trying to protest once more, he heard none of it. Leaving you alone in the living room once more with the baby, the tears wanted to start again. He was still upset and crying but maybe, it was a bit better. Not as deafening to listen too, but your eyes remained trapped on his little face feeling heartbroken that you got him to this point.

Once more you didn’t hear Robb return until he was again knelt in front of you, muttering your name. Looking up at him, your face scrunched a bit trying to hold back, but it was obvious in your voice how teetering on the edge you still were. “I don’t know how to handle this.” Asking what, your answer came out a bit short as if he should’ve known already. “How to be a mother.”

“You’re doing just fine if you ask me.”

Looking up at him with something in your eyes, you felt yourself get frustrated. “Robb, look at me. My own sons been crying for gods know how long because I don’t know how to even comfort him. I didn’t even last an hour when your mother left before I screwed everything up.” Asking lowly if you told Jon about feeling like this, you shook your head as you felt your eyes sting more. “I can’t. He’s busy, he won’t be home until tomorrow and if I tell him anything I’ll just be upsetting him.”

Reaching up to cup your cheek again, Robb took more of a low tone with an edge trying to remain somewhat stern. “Love, he’ll want to know your struggling.”

You wouldn’t have said it if you weren’t in such a state, but you did. “I don’t want him to know what a disappointment I am without him.” Robbs face fell into what was clearly something hurt of his own, trying to say you weren’t only to suddenly jerk away from his touch. “He’s been gone for over a day and I can’t even handle that alone.”

Not pushing your boundaries, he didn’t reach out again but he stayed within your sights very clearly. “Well, you were fine yesterday with my mother, and when the rest of us came home. And now I’m here. So you’re not alone.” Wishing you’d look at him, you knew he wanted to be comforting as you continued to try and only watch the still upset baby in your arms. “You’ve been a mother less then a month, it’s alright you’re not perfect.”

Barley shrugging you, kept looking down at the baby who had seemed to lighten up just the slightest more, as if having someone around eased your mind and thus eased his. “I don’t want to disappoint him.” Robb only could ask who, when really he knew the answer. “Jon, Eddard...I don’t know, both of them. I don’t want either of them to think I’m a bad mother.”

“The only one who thinks that is you.” Muttering your name, you finally peeled your eyes back up at him and the bright blue in his own were nothing but serious. “You know if you told Jon what was wrong, he’d want to rush back home that second. He wouldn’t worry about if you were good at it or not, he’d only worry that you two are okay. But, if you don’t want to tell him, then you have me for the rest of it.”

Pushing up onto his feet before Robb once again sat down next to you, letting a hand slide across your shoulders to pull the side of your head to rest against his. “You have work-”

“I told father I’ll be working from home today. My mother told me you weren’t doing so well on your own yesterday, and she has to go back to work soon and I didn’t think you were ready to be left alone this suddenly.” Looking over at him he let the hand on the side of your head drop to sit more by your neck, his thumb running along what of your skin he could find soothingly. You wanted to tell him he didn’t have too, but you had a feeling that Robb would shut down that conversation before it could gain any traction.

Muttering somewhat quietly, you hadn’t yet realized he heard your more quiet tone over what would’ve been harder to hear if the baby was still as loud as before. “You did enough to help me before.”

Robb though, only laughed. “That was when you were pregnant. Now you’re not, and I’m helping you and the baby. Two very different situations.” You only rolled your eyes a little, hearing him chuckle once more. That was when he brought your attention to it. “See? How already he’s calming down?”

Your brows narrowed, looking down to the baby only to realize he indeed had begun to quiet down, and for once a genuine smile with a little laugh came from you. Which in turn, only eased little Eddards upsets more. “Hey, sweet boy.” Running a thumb over his cheek, he made a louder sound that was more of a babble like a word of his own, making you grin more. “Tired ourselves out, I think we both did.” Another small noise as you ran your thumb back and forth over his small cheek as soon there was just quiet in the room.

Robb never moved as you both watched the baby slowly drift. His eyes closing over and over before finally slipping shut properly and soon a deep sleep followed. Your eyes closed long enough for a sigh to leave you, a wave of relief washing through your veins as Robb stood up.

Motioning for you to hand him the baby, he clearly meant to tuck him away in his cradle when you whispered in more of a sudden panic. “What if it wakes him up?” Meaning when you let him go.

But, Robb only have a comforting answer. “Then we sit here until he falls asleep again.”

You were honest with yourself in saying that you watched him in his cradle for almost another twenty minutes. Robb had told you that while he settles, he was going to change out of his work clothes and have a shower and he’d be right back. You nodded, but didn’t move and still hadn’t. Your elbows propped up on your knees as your hands were clasped together in front of your lips trying to watch the baby for every little breath or movement should he wake again, but he slept soundly. By the time you could hear footsteps descending from the upstairs, you too heard the pattering of paws.

Greywind having sensed Robb was back, came up from the basement and spotted you. Always the calm one, the grey wolf approached. Looking at the baby first almost making sure he was alright before coming over to you. Watching closely with his golden eyes before sitting in front of you. His ears drooping a little as if a sign that he wanted you to pet him, which a smile broke out as you happily obliged. Leaning forward more, Greywind took it as a sign to more invade your space but always in a respectful manner he did.

It felt a bit calming. Whenever Jon went north of the Wall, Ghost always went with him and you had felt yourself missing the presence of the goofy direwolf. Greywind was calmer though, not overstaying his welcome in attention, but then climbed up onto the couch. Travelling somewhat behind you so he could lay out in the space on your other side, his face clear to watch both you and the baby.

Only looking up as Robb came downstairs much more casually dressed. A grin on his face came easily too, “Someone finally decided to make their presence known.”

Looking over to the wolf again, you shrugged a shoulder with a calmer voice, but still weak from before. “I think all the crying upset him.” Robb came close, running a hand over his ears and fur for a moment as he commented it was a good thing Nymeria and Shaggydog were normally outside during the middle of the day.

You could agree. Lady and Summer were more well behaved when on their own. Nymeria and Shaggydog were wild and too unruly to be around the baby all alone and were happy to traverse the wolfswood until Arya and Rickon returned home and could wrangle them up more with purpose. But Greywind was fine wherever he was, and laid next to you as Robb was knelt down to pet him. Looking up to you once more, his gaze softened at seeing how still on edge and clearly upset you were. “Have you said anything to Jon yet?”

Shaking your head, he muttered your name as your hands wrung together before crossing over your stomach and looking away. “He’ll know somethings wrong if I say anything.”

“Chances are he knows somethings wrong already.” Asking how he knew, Robb looked at your phone with a slight amusement. “He’s called seven times, and left twenty messages.” You normally would rush over in a panic at ignoring him, or fearing something was wrong, but you just wanted to curl in on yourself more. Robb called your name once, then twice before speaking anyways. “You can’t just make him worry about you two this way.”

Your voice was so meek that it sounded nothing like you. “I don’t know what to say.”

Sighing, he grabbed his phone as he stood up. Pacing further into the room as he easily unlocked it, “I’ll say something.” Standing in an instant, you tried reaching for it, but Robb was simply taller and stronger then you as he held you at bay with one hand and held it behind his back in the other. “I know what to say to put him at ease, love. Your goal is to make him more calm, not less.”

You crossed your arms again as your brows furrowed, but let him type uninterrupted before sitting it down on the table before suddenly moving your own phone further away from you as well. Coming up he ran both hands down your upper arms again with a more warm and calming expression. “When do you need to feed the baby next?”

Thinking about it, you glanced down at his calm slumbering face, almost not recognizing him now that he wasn’t upset and crying. “Whenever he wakes up probably. Maybe an hour or two if he stays asleep?”

Looking back up, Robb nodded in thought. “Good, enough time for you to shower.” Your head jolted back in slight question as he elaborated. “Doesn’t have to be long, but the hot water might make you feel better, then you should probably nap a little more too. I know you didn’t sleep much last night either.” You didn’t bother asking how he knew that, just dropped your head in a nod.

Turning you by your arms, Robb pushed you towards the upstairs before you stopped. Grabbing onto his forearms with a worry, “What if-” Stronger then you, he only made you let go and pushed you once more to the stairs.

A reassurance on his tone, “I can handle if if he needs anything between now and then, go shower, feel slightly better.”

He was right. You felt a little better. The shower in the main bathroom of the Stark’s second floor was magnificent. The room was huge, a luxurious tub where the porcelain was tucked into a bit of the marble flooring carved up to fit it inside, but a separate standing shower with enough room for multiple people. Meaning you were always free to relax a bit. Their shower head was soothing as strange as it felt to say.

But it was one that was wide as it was large, tall in the air, taller then any of you as it poured out like it was recreating rainfall. A smaller one could be turned on to use much more liberally at one’s normal height and move it about, but rarely did you feel compelled to do so when you used this. You kept it on a gentle setting, and not too hot. Just warm and light as if showering in the actual rain outdoors.

You used Jons soap on purpose. Just a small thing to maybe maybe you feel a bit closer to him, and hopefully that little Eddard recognized the scent too and maybe it helped him as well. Everything just fell apart the moment Jon was gone, and as relieved as you were that Robb showed up when he did, you still felt embarrassed that you needed that help at all.

The worry that Jon was out beyond the Wall, talking to the free folk about the baby and you being a mother and whatever kind things you knew he’d say were just untrue if only he could peek behind the curtain. You needed Catelyn to help you yesterday, you couldn’t last an hour without her today before Robb had to come home and fix things. You were useless.

Yes the tears stopped, and you felt more fresh, but you couldn’t say you felt good. Wrapping the towel around you, you walked over to the counter where Robb had clearly sat fresh clothes out for you, hoping that might help as well. The same sort of things, comfortable and twice as large of a sweater as you needed, but something in your worst moments you could hide within its warmth to soothe you alone.

Deciding to properly take the moment, too did you comb out your hair to something appropriate before braiding it loosely, then brushing your teeth. Just enough to feel like a person again, if just in the small details. Stepping out into the second floor hall, you still heard no crying. The faint sound of typing, against the more prominent fireplace, as if Robb had added to it in your absence.

Pausing before you moved to the stairs, you looked over to Jons room. It was his old one, you two had now been staying in. As if peering somewhere you shouldn’t, you pushed the door open only enough to slip through. It was untouched from the morning Jon left. You hadn’t actually slept in here last night, too upset to sleep alone with just the baby in there and not Jon, giving the excuse when Ned came down first in the morning that you simply woke up early and came downstairs. He looked as if he didn’t believe you, but so early in the morning he simply asked what you wanted for breakfast instead, already pulling things out to make you something.

As if all the Stark men lately could tell what a mess you were, they all in their own ways seemed to return right back to coddling you, just like they did when you were still pregnant. Not that you rejected it, no doubt he could tell you were missing Jon and wanted to do something nice for you to cheer you up, just like Robb did the moment he walked in on the disaster.

Coming up to the bed, you still could see sitting out the sweater of his you had worn that morning before getting dressed. Sitting it out neatly, you had meant to put it away but little Eddard had stirred awake and distracted you and you simply hadn’t been in here since. Picking it up gently, you didn’t even think twice.

Almost like a child with a stuffed animal you held it close to your chest. For three weeks since the baby had been born, Jon was with you every single day. Every issue you had, you two tackled it together. He hadn’t left your side since he brought you two home from the hospital, and the first time he leaves it’s for days and he has little chance to communicate.

Not willing to let the tears come back, you lifted his sweater to your face. Still the slightest trace of a scent unique to only Jon hit you, just more of a comfort the similar way the smell of his soap gave you. Putting it back, your hand lingered against the fabric before slipping back out and closing the door behind you. By the time you made your way down the stairs, you could see Robb much more casual.

A mug of coffee sat next to him, his legs up on the coffee table with his laptop in front of him as he typed away. Occasionally reaching out to run a hand either to take a sip, or pet Greywind. In his carrier, little Eddard was still sound asleep, he hadn’t yet moved. Near the other couch, on the side table sat a mug of something dark, not quite as dark as his. Your eyes tried to guess but he had spotted you, and spoiled the game. “It’s fennel.” Meeting his gaze, he nodded to the mug. “The tea, it’s fennel. My mother bought tea’s safe for when you’re breastfeeding.”

Sitting down against the soft edge of the couch, you let your feet sit tucked somewhat under you as you brought the warm liquid to your lips. Not boiling hot, just enough you could stomach it, the sensation soothing on your throat as it went down. Your voice a bit quiet, almost anticipating bad news as you asked it, “Did Jon say anything?”

Robb was calm still as he shook his head in a no. “I told him you needed some extra help while my mother was gone, and you had forgotten to look at your phone.” You took another sip fine with the answer until he added with a sly smirk, “Whether or not he believed me, we’ll both just have to wait and find out.”

Your smile as small and didn’t quite reach your eyes, but it came out soft all the same. You had a feeling he might not have been telling you the truth, knowing you’d worry again if you knew he told Jon how much you were actually struggling. Regardless, your eyes drifting to the baby, still slumbering away and from there it just reminded you already how much he looked like Jon. He had your eye colour, but everything else about little Eddard screamed Jon and it just made your heart feel a bit tighter at hoping he didn’t come home disappointed in you.

The way your muscles begun to relax however, seemed to creep up on you quickly. Muttering with a playful narrow in your eyes, “You put something in this, Stark?”

Robb laughed brightly though, not meaning it but playing along anyways. “You’re stubborn, love. Only way to force you to get some sleep.” Nodding, you finished the tea before settling more down against the couch comfortably, muttering only for a few minutes. Which didn’t last long, as you fell as deeply in need of sleep as little Eddard did. Only somewhat recognizing unconsciously, the feeling of a blanket covering you as a hand ran gently along your hair before leaving you be back to your dreamless nap.

By the time you woke, you hadn’t truly registered what of any of the conversation around you had occurred. Only that your sleeping self picked up in bits and pieces of something that you already forgot once your eyes open. A quiet but stern back and forth with who you hadn’t then realized was Robb and Catelyn.

Warnings of being careful, of Robb saying he knew what he was doing. Of Catelyn scolding him, “There’s a baby now, Robb. Things have changed.”

You hadn’t heard Robbs reply, but it was a firmness of a man who understood where he stood in this room with everyone. “I know that, mother. I’m doing all of this for her because I care, not because I expect anything.”

You hadn’t at all heard her say something along the lines of having many chances with you before now, and did not pick up on what he did, the implication that Catelyn knew his feelings for you, feelings you were unaware of, and that she had clearly thought many times Robb would one day be in Jons place with you, and that son would be his, but here he was playing it anyways.

Robb didn’t let it go on long, not wanting either the baby to wake up and get upset, or it wake you up and give you the wrong idea. But by the time your eyes slipped open, so did the fluttering eyes of little Eddard, whose cradle was facing you, thus he watched you wake up at the same time as he did.

The only indication to anyone else, was the sudden small babbling cry of the baby as he tried to reach out to you, wanting you to hold him. Pushing up on your palms, the blanket slid down to your waist as you smiled at him. “Good afternoon, my sweet boy.” Sparing no time you moved only enough to reach the cradle in your grasp without standing, and pulling the now much calmer baby in your arms as he settled rather quickly into wanting to be close to you. Running a thumb along his cheek, you smiled brightly at how much calmer he looked, and how both of you clearly felt. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.”

Leaning down, you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, only to have Robb speak up from not so far away as he leaned against one of the frames into a different part of the hallway. “I could say the same about you.” A half smile came over you, looking up at him in a doubt before turning back to the baby with your voice still a bit on the sleepy side.

“How long-”

Robb cut you off with the answer he knew you were already asking, “Two hours or so. Seemed like you both needed it.” Only barely glancing up with a small nod, you’d rather he not bring up how you hadn’t even gone to bed if it’s that he was suspecting. “He need feeding?”

You stood up right away, at least some instincts still remained with you. “I have some ready for him in the kitchen.” Pushing off the frame, Robb beckoned you to follow him there, a hand hovering just over your lower back to guide you but without making the contact. Glancing back, you almost ran into him as you started to ask for his carrier when Robb just interjected saying he could do it. Your brow raised in a doubt, more emotion in that jesting motion then you’d had in hours but he insisted. “We’ll see.’

You knew he doubted why you’d doubt him, but it made itself rather clear in not such a long amount of time. It was a fancy machine, more fancy then most. You were insistent that you did not want to feed little Eddard with formula, but Jon knew how inconvenient it might be for you to breastfeed as much as the baby would need. You had thought when he said he’d get a bottle warmer, it would be rudimentary.

Enough to function, as you knew how to warm a bottle in your preteen years of helping your mother raise Shireen. Selyse was sickly after your baby sisters birth, and you at only twelve, ended up taking a lot of her duties for her. Both you and your sister were raised on formula, only as a result of your mothers weak state after both your births, but you were insistent on doing otherwise now. Though, the machine was not the one you grew up with.

When he came home with it, you didn’t ask Jon how much it cost. You stopped trying to at that point. He had gotten many things you’d need for the baby, and you could see an insecurity in how he’d buy them. Trying to overcompensate for things when he was doing just fine, more then fine. But he was worried he’d be a terrible father. So he would buy things more then the baby, or you, needed in hopes it would somehow make up for a lacking he didn’t have.

Many of the other expecting mothers at each of the parenting classes had commented that they had never seen a to be father as invested as Jon. He asked more questions then they did, certainly more then you did. Jon didn’t miss a single one if he didn’t have to. He would help you book them around his shifts, to ensure he never missed a single class. He wanted to know what to do for every step of the way, and yet perhaps you should’ve been the one paying more attention.

Perhaps you were failing now that Jon wasn’t here, because he was carrying all of the weight for you these past weeks. You couldn’t do it on your own, because Jon was the good one, not you.

Before you could fall too deep into the thoughts, did you notice Robb fussing with more buttons then needed as his shoulders tensed. A small smirk came over you as you glanced down to the baby with a raised brow as if he understood your amusement. Though, you failed somewhat to hide that in your ask. “Having some difficulty there?”

Muttering just under his breath enough you heard him, Robb clearly was frustrated. “How could it be so complicated to warm one bottle?” Telling him to let you do it, instead getting him to put everything down on the counter as you transferred the baby into his arms, you swiftly moved without much thought behind your actions. “I’ve never seen one so hard to use.”

You mostly said it passingly, going through the motions. “It’s easy once you get used to it, it’s just fancy is all.” You thought Robb said something, but without quite catching it as you turned it on, the buzzing was enough to convince you that whatever you thought he said, you had misheard from nothing. Not realizing the look Robb had given little Eddard after he had done so, a guilt swiftly being forced off his face before the baby could take too much notice or you turned to see it.

Naturally by the time you did, you asked if he wanted you to take him back yet, but he shook his head. “I’m not even sure I’d be able to get that thing out of there.” Nodding behind you, but you just shook your head with a playful eye roll.

Turning around, you let your palms sit flat against the counter only your eyes drew right to little Eddard’s wide eyes looking up at you, a smile forming on your lips right away. Narrowing yours playfully in a smirk, it only gave a small smile and as much of a giggle as could be towards you from a newborn, your hands pushing up and off to lean down to Robbs front where the baby laid. His small hands freeing themselves from the swaddle, or trying to as you helped him do so.

Making grabbing hands towards your loose strands of hair at the side of your head, you let one hand of your own run along his cheek with a gentle touch of your knuckle. Almost forgetting for a moment someone else was even there when Robb spoke gentle as if to not startle you. “He seems much better.”

Looking up, you tried to move only to find little Eddard grabbed once more at your hair trying to convince you to not leave. Grabbing his hands with yours, you pulled them up enough to press a kiss to each tiny hand before muttering, “Let me get your bottle, silly boy.” One more kiss pressed to his forehead, you managed to move away fast enough that Robb shifted him closer enough he couldn’t reach out again. “He’s good for now at least, suppose that’s all I can ask for.”

Turning around at the sound of the warming finished, you quickly grabbed it. Robb not wasting time to shift the baby in your hands, and only grabbing the bottle long enough so you could hold him properly.

Feeding him was always easy, the baby was peaceful when he was hungry. He took his sweet time that was certain, but only because he fed slowly, not because he was fussy. In the hospital, shortly after he had been born, the nurses had asked if you wanted formula but you had hesitated. Looking up at Jon, and in your exhaustion and uncertainty, he had confidently look to her saying that you both were breastfeeding.

And a hint of pride in Jon if you weren’t mistaken when he said that neither of you needed any help in getting the baby to latch, Jon had gone into being a father knowing nearly everything possible. His lessons paid off, now it was easier, he was right. Being able to feed a bottle whenever was so much more convenient, but at least you weren’t depriving him of what you could give him from yourself just a little longer.

“I can’t thank you enough.” Peeking up from the baby, you rocked little Eddard still slightly, more a sway from side to side as the movement seemed to soothe him into feeding better. Robb muttered your name in question, but you only met his bright blue eyes for a moment before looking back down. “For helping me today. Really, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you today.”

Stepping closer, you felt a large hand warm against your neck in a comforting move. “You would’ve made it, I know you would’ve. You’re a good mother, a few rough days doesn’t change that.” Your eyes drifted only a bit in a doubt when company entered the room.

Catelyn calling your name, you looked up as she had a sympathetic look as she approached you, “I am so sorry,”

Shaking your head, you gave a small smile towards her. “You had things to do, I wasn’t going to stop you from that. Suppose as long as no one died, it turned out fine.”

You could sense her sharing a glance with Robb saying something you were not picking up on between them in agreement, before she looked down with a brighter gaze to the baby. It was odd for her, getting used to him.

The first grandchild in their family, was not hers. He was Ned’s, but he wasn’t her grandchild, not by blood. It no doubt was a suprise that Jon was the first to start a family of his own, but the rest all fell into place easily once they adjusted to the information. Catelyn however, her long standing difficulties with Jon since he was only a boy put a divide in her.

You knew she was not used to being so close with Jons son when she no doubt expected the first to come from Robb, her own child, but at the same time you were close with her since you were a girl. In ways, your time up North she was a pseudo mother figure to you, which is why she wanted to help you in the first place, but help you raise Jons child?

As long as he wasn’t around directly, she had an easier time separating that fact. She could be found interacting with him more, smiling at him more, but far less so then when Jon was around. Many nights in the Stark household, all were expected to eat dinner together at the same time, and things had been off since the baby arrived.

The time meals came around, little Eddard was always more awake and lively by then, never wanting to nap and thus you and Jon always took turns through the evening occupying him so the other could eat. Whenever it was Jons time, glances between he and Catelyn could be found exchanging tenseness and silent seething. Her eyes would flicker downwards to the baby, before back up to Jon and returning to the meal in quiet before addressing her own children instead.

Everyone knew the tension was there, it always had been. But now it was more obvious and stood out when it would occur, as Jon held a baby of his own in his arms. For the time being though, you’d accept her softer side when Jon wasn’t here because at least it was something. Proof she didn’t blame little Eddard for her strife with his father.

It never occurred to you though, that much of the afternoon which followed, while Robb was at your side was Catelyn much more acclimated to playing grandmother. Speaking to the baby with a bemused but stern tone that you heard her hundreds of times give to her own children. Presently you had been rifling through everything in one of the side rooms that had been storing things for the baby, as you realized you had a problem.

Behind you, you could hear Catelyn with little Eddard giving that tone showcasing she was much more amused by the babbling baby then she would’ve given off were Jon present. “I’m glad you think this is so funny.” The baby only babbled again which drew a smile from her as she entertained him. Glancing back with a quiet call of your name, but you didn’t turn back.

Your own frustration begun to rise, turning quick to panic as you heard another voice join. “Mother?” Robb turned into the room, brows furrowing as he looked towards you scrambling around. “What’s going on?” Catelyn must have given him an indicating look as you heard no words behind you, until Robb was a bit closer, calling your name.

Instead of responding, you pushed yourself up from the crouched position you rummaged through a cabinet in and made your way again to higher cupboards you already checked. “Come on..” That time, Robb grabbed you by your upper arm turning you to him. His face taken aback at the return of what looked like a panic, only this time it was not upset following but a guilty anxiety. Asking you specifically what was wrong, you stammered as your head pressed against your forehead before turning to look around the room again. “I thought I had more, but I don’t and now I need them-”

Grabbing you by both arms, Robb all but yanked you to look back at him. Catelyn calling his name as if to prompt him to be a bit more gentle, but sometimes both he and Jon knew that force would bring you back down faster then anything. Looking up at him with wide eyes, he at least remained calm. “Thought you had more of what?” Specifying diapers, Robb only smirked. “Is that all?” Your face dropped, explaining with an unimpressed demeanour that it was important. “Love if that’s all you need, I can go pick up some.”

Looking to the baby, you bit your lip before shaking your head as waves of that anxiety returned. “I can’t- I need them as soon-”

Cutting you off, Robb kept the simplest explication to the simplest solution to keep you on track. “That’s fine, you two come with me.” Your brows furrowed, the information not yet connecting together quiet yet. “You and the baby come with me, we buy them, and I’m fairly certain they have a changing room for things just like that there.” Looking over to Catelyn with a question in your face as if you needed someone else to assure you that the plan made sense and your mind was overthinking things again.

Nodding, she looked almost as amused at your state as Robb did. “If he’s like the rest of this family, a car ride might actually calm the little one down before he gets too upset.” No one acknowledged just how close she can to inferring with an ease how that meant Jon was part of the family in her eyes, if only by proxy through the baby, but right now, you were willing to take it.

“I know, we’ll get you some more and you’ll feel better in no time.”

Pressing a kiss to little Eddards forehead as you descended the front steps, you and him were more wrapped up then normal for the cold. You didn’t often lately even really go outside, so much to care for the baby being needed indoors that the fresh, crisp air of autumn almost felt foreign to you. Filling your lungs as it felt nice to have the slight breeze blow against your skin and through your hair.

You were waiting for Robb as he grabbed his wallet, looking down at the baby and the cool air just giving you another wave. You missed Jon. It felt needy and pathetic to admit, he had been gone a day and a half only but you had depended on him so much these past weeks that being without him felt strange and lonely. You wondered if he missed you two. If Jon was wondering how long it would take before he was finally back, how much the baby would be thrilled to see him.

Or if he was busy, too busy to think about things. Or, if he didn’t think much of it. He had called and texted you according to Robb, but you still hadn’t looked at your phone. It even now sat on the coffee table in the main room, it only served to make you stressed. Everyone sending you messages and notifications still of congratulations for a motherhood you were worried you were terrible at. Or maybe you wondered, if Robb told him you were fine that meant Jon cared before but not now.

He loved his son, and he loved you, but as you stood there looking down to the bright eyes of his own baby, you worried that you might just be overbearing him and work was finally a break for his state of mind. He loved his duty in the Nights Watch, and being taken from that for weeks to handle you must have drove him off the wall.

Seeing Robb appear as he closed the door behind you, he only nodded towards his car. “It’s open you know.”

Only a blank expression was given back for a moment before it registered, and you shook your head in understanding. “Sorry, yes. Just..”

“Lost in thought?” You nodded, before opening the car door with one hand. As you had gotten yourself and the baby dressed warmer, Robb had taken the liberty to put the car seat in the back of his own, with you moving now right away to carefully tuck little Eddard into it. “I know, it isn’t far. I promise.” Triple checking he was strapped in as secure as possible, you leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as you felt his arms reach out to you. Grabbing them with each, holding so lightly you kissed both of them as well before tucking them close to him once more. “I’ll be right up there.” Pointing to the passenger seat, you kissed the top of his head one more time before closing the door.

Circling around, you noticed a look on Robbs face that you hadn’t quite deciphered, you reached for the car door but it was as if Robb snatched the chance first, opening it for you. A playful expression with a smirk as he rose an eyebrow to you. “My brother not show you proper manners?”

Only muttering as you moved passed to climb in, “He does. I’m just as stubborn then too.” Only snarking back as he closed it, that he was sure you were. Turning somewhat you looked back at the baby, a smile bright on you as he lit up seeing you again. A small noise as his hand reached out, did you reach yours out too while it was just too far. “Ten minutes, I promise. I’ll carry you when we get to the store, I promise.”

He was not a fan of carriers for long periods of time. Little Eddard much preferring to be held close to his mother or father, being able to snuggle into your warmth. A very high quality stroller just was sitting in the storage presently. Not being used, not any want to use it. You and Jon were happy to carry him as much as he wanted, he felt better in your arms as you both did with him there right back.

But, too you had hardly left the house since he was born. Stepping outside onto the back porch of the property once or twice, but you hadn’t even so much as gotten beyond the driveway since you had been at the hospital. It almost felt foreign. “Seat belt.” Turning from the baby to Robb with a furrowed brow, he almost looked at you as if you were the child he was speaking to. “Seat belt.”

Rolling your eyes with a lack of true meaning as you hid a smirk, you only muttered under your breath, “I almost forgot how bossy both of you are.” Asking both, you sat back more relaxed against the seat as Robb begun to pull from the driveway and make his way onto the main road out of the property. “Yourself and Jon both nag me if I don’t put my seat belt on the second I sit in the car.”

“Would you always remember if we didn’t?”

A narrow glare was given his way that Robb was pretending not to see as he focused on the road. “I’m not a complete and total loss you know.” Robb said nothing as you almost failed with a grin coming your way to be glossed over with an incredulous look. Glancing back to the baby you lowered your voice to something you knew would amuse him no matter the words. “At least you and I have each others back.”

Little Eddard just babbled in a happy noise, as you smiled more genuinely once more. Sitting back against the sea, your head lulled to the side to look out the window. The scenery moving by was all familiar but it felt a lifetime since you had seen any of it. It was dark when Jon drove you home. It was suggested you stay another night there to be sure you and the baby were alright, but truly you and Jon were itching to be home. You wanted out of the sterile environment and somewhere familiar and warm around family. So he drove you home that night, the rest of the world none the wiser that your and Jons life had changed forever, and the proof was half asleep in his back seat.

Now though, you felt a stranger to the lands. The main town just outside of Winterfell was where the busy stores and shops lived. Much more a smaller town feeling then Kings Landing, but also not the village rural feeling the fishing ports on Dragonstone were. Just a cozy feeling of Northerners, many of whom knew each other.

But now, with your life feeling so different, and a baby of your own you felt like this was your first time here. Each place new and the people unknown, but perhaps they were. Perhaps you were the new and unknown now that your life was not the same.

Autumn had fallen on the North, and the leaves everywhere were a golden sort of colour as the loose ones broke off and blew in the wind, and on all sides of the outside of the town was nothing but lush harvest for miles and miles before any would reach somewhere different with people.

Pulling into the parking lot, you almost felt hesitant to get out. The amount of people was more then you had been around in a month. It was busy and no doubt loud and bright and for a moment you felt your heart pick up. A sound called from the backseat as if little Eddard sensed your distress. Robb parked, but a hand sat across the back of your seat as he called your name.

Eyes closing, you tried to breathe slowly. Forcing your heart rate to slow as you shook your head, needing just a moment. You wouldn’t be long. Go in, get one thing, change the baby and Robb would take you home. It was strange, as if the outside and crowded had become anxious fears in your mind now. Slowly opening the door, nothing of the sight had changed but you knew you had to handle it anyways, not wanting to just stay and wait in the car and force Robb to guess.

A half smile came over you, “Let’s go.” Swiftly getting out of the car before making your way around to where the baby was tucked away. Robb watched closely at your more on edge demeanour, but didn’t bring it up. At least recognizing how little that would help you. Carefully you picked the baby up in your arms as he settled right away against you, you felt a calm come over you once more. Having him there almost seemed to calm you in a way normally Jon would be able too. That at least you had the baby here.

Turning to Robb, he beckoned you to follow with a hand guiding you through the parking lot against your lower back. The store was warmer at the least, the lights bright and the sounds much more loud including the music playing through the speakers. It was only a quick trip to the store, you told yourself. You were fine.

At least Robb didn’t stray too far. Staying right by your side, waking slower for your sake as you weren’t quite as fast as you’d be without the bundle in your arms. Watching you with curious eyes as you looked down to the baby, and moving his clothes and blanket to hide his face from onlookers just a bit more, not wanting him to be overwhelmed by so many people either. A small noise coming from him as if telling you he didn’t like it here as much as you didn’t.

“So, I was thinking.” Robbs voice pulling you a bit back into the present, as you walked through the large aisles for the right one. “My mother’s returning to work tomorrow.” You nodded with a held back grimace he no doubt had caught, the idea of that morning repeating tomorrow until Jon got home, if he got home in the afternoon at all, felt daunting to the point you already dreaded it. But Robb continued, just reminding you of the next worse thing. “And you’ll have plenty more days coming up when Jon won’t be there again.” About to interject asking him to stop, did he come to the point you hadn’t guessed he was to make. “You’ll need a second hand around. To help with the baby and to help take care of you when he’s not there. So I spoke to my father, and we agreed I would stay home the days Jon is on shift. So you have someone always there.”

Looking wide eyed up at him, you stammered a protest right away as he only tilted his head in a gentle amusement at you. “No, Robb I’d never ask you for that. I can’t keep you from getting paid-”

Robb only laughed, a few larger groups you both were about to pass through, he wrapped his arm around your back to pull your other side into him a bit more for safe keeping as he slunk through. “I’ll still be working, I just will be doing it from home.” You hesitated, not wanting him to feel like he needed to go out of his way to baby you, as you, ironically, babied a baby. “Jon doesn’t have the privilege of a job that lets him work from home. He has no choice but to go in, but I do. I can do my office work the days I’m home and help you with the baby when you need, and so that you don’t get so overwhelmed being alone again.”

Biting your lip, you looked down at little Eddard. He had barley taken his eyes off you, trying to move one hand enough so that you could run along the top of his head, you could recall that morning. The poor way his face scrunched and changed to a deeper red as he cried and cried. He was nothing of the sort here. Calm and sweet as he always was. You didn’t want anyone going more out of their way for you then the Starks already had, but you couldn’t deny that doing this without Jon was a lot harder then you realized. And you didn’t want him to leave for shifts and worry you would screw it all up alone while he wasn’t there to fix it all. He deserved better then that.

Nodding gently, Robb ran his hand up and down your upper arm. “Good. The last thing any of us want is to leave you on your own when you need help.” Pausing in his words to look down to you he nodded to a specific aisle, “This the right one?”

Affirming it was, you walked ahead of him as he let you knowing you’d recognize what you needed better then he could. Normally Jon got all this. He was perfectly content with rushing out while you and the baby were still asleep in the morning, getting anything you might need and somehow, Jon always knew exactly what to get, what kind, what brand. As if he had paid attention to everything you or the baby used in case you’d need more in a hurry, and he wanted to know all of those things before having to ask you.

It was probably why you ran out. Jon normally knew when you were running low and would get more before you could even think of bringing it up. He would’ve noticed yesterday that you were low and gone out that morning, just something else he was better at then you in this new world of parenting.

Gesturing to a specific box, “That one.” Robb pointed just to be sure as he then proceeded to grab two just in case. Asking if you needed anything else, you shook your head. “Let’s just get these now, before he starts to get uncomfortable. I don’t want him to get upset in the middle of the store, he’d be inconsolable until we got him home.”

“Lead the way then.” Robb dealt with the cashier, almost laughing at you when you went wide eyed at the check out saying you didn’t even think to bring your wallet. “You really think you’d be paying anyways?” Your mouth stayed parted open as you had no response to that. The cashier, an older woman likely around Catelyns age smiled to herself but didn’t interject. She did however, spot little Eddard with a brighter smile.

The baby though, was far to shy. Making a protesting noise as he wormed his way closer into your arms as if to hide, you leaned down a bit to mutter to him, “It’s alright, sweet boy. She’s only saying hello.” But he refused to look back at her, a tilt of your head as you returned her gaze trying to apologize.

She chuckled to herself, “No worries, lass. Some are just shyer then others. Whats his name?” Answering that it was Eddard, she tried to look at him a bit better with amusement again. As Robb finished paying, he interjected politely asking if there was anywhere to change him, as she nodded. “All the way back down the aisles, the hallway take a left and it’s right on the end.” Looking back to the baby who was still too shy to really look at her, it didn’t take you off guard as it did Robb, what she said in passing. “You be good for your mummy and daddy now, Eddard.”

You moved before Robb, did, himself stuck in place for a second too long before clearing his throat and following you as you made your way to the back. Finding the room with ease, you paused as you stepped into it, looking back about to ask if Robb was just waiting out there, but he caught on and followed you in. You seeing no reason to keep him out. You were just changing the baby, hardly anything to hide from him.

The smaller bag you had wrapped around your front and side was pulled off the second you managed to lay little Eddard out. Everything else you needed you had packed quickly, as you got to work. It wasn’t much of a two person job, but Robb hovered close by just in case. Unbeknownst to you, as Robb quickly pulled his phone out, he opened to his messages and opened the thread with Jon.

His message had been read, but Jon hadn’t responded at all. It just sat there, and Robb wasn’t so sure what it was that made Jon not care to answer it. He had replied to his brothers calls and messages on your phone with his, saying that you were struggling quite a lot on your own and that he was helping to take care of you and the baby while Jon was gone, to update him. And not even a brief notification that Jon had ever even started to type a message, let alone send one back. “He’s easier then my siblings ever were to handle.”

Looking up for a second, you let out an actual laugh. “Who knows, perhaps he’s only well behaved for his parents. Maybe he would be a pain if you changed him.” A smirk came from him as you finished up, pulling the baby back into your arms as little Eddard nearly snuggled into you right away, much more comfortable and calm. Your hand cradling the back of his head as you pressed a kiss to his forehead before muttering against him, “There we go, sweet boy. Much better.” The drive home at least, made you feel a little bit calmer as well.

“I can always make him a new one if it doesn’t fit.”

“You can’t bribe your way into being the favourite.”

“I’m not bribing anyone-”

“You just did,”

Interrupting what felt like the back and forth on either side of you for far too long did Robbs voice ring out as he walked into the room, looking stern just like Ned did but towards his two little sisters. “She’s had a long day, leave her be.” Both Arya and Sansa looked as if they were about to protest before sighing, pushing up from the couch and making their way out of the main living space as he added, “Mother needs help with dinner, go make yourselves useful.”

Sitting on couch next to you, Robb looked down the baby currently asleep in your arms. Your voice muttered quietly, “I was thinking about what you said. Helping me when Jons not here. If you are truly alright with that-” Saying he was, you looked over at him with a sternness to let you finish. His eyes lightening up realizing you weren’t again in any teasing mood. “I don’t expect you to do things for him or me, but it might help just knowing someone else is there in case things get bad again.”

A smile danced across his face, “No one wants to see you struggle with this, me included. We’re all just making sure you are okay.” Your smile was quick and not as bright, but he caught it at least. Thinking for a moment, Robb caught your gaze turn a bit sour. “What is it?”

You were quiet as you asked, but serious in all manners. “You told Jon about this afternoon.” Looking back up at him, when he only said the word what, you tilted your head at him. “Jon, you told him about what happened when you got here this afternoon. I asked you not to.”

“He deserved to know.”

“Know what?” Your voice almost raising as you looked down in worry only to find a still slumbering baby boy. Looking back to Robb, you tried to keep it back to a hissing whisper. “Knowing I couldn’t handle one full day without someone coming to my rescue? That he clearly does all the work and now he knows it?” Robb tried to argue that wasn’t what was going on, but you bit your tongue looking away from him again. “I wanted this to prove I could handle it. Doing this on my own. This was my chance, Jon is gone for over two days and he comes home seeing everything went great and now he knows I can’t even do that without him to help me.”

Feeling Robb slink a hand along your hair as he ran down it soothingly, he leaned down to more your level to keep his quiet tones to you only. “Trust me love, Jon wants nothing more then for you to be happy and confident, but he loves taking care of you two.” His other hand reaching over to gently tap at the baby’s foot, who shifted with a protesting noise in his sleep but didn’t awake. Breaking a smile out onto both of you for it. “He wants you to have faith you’re a good mother, but he doesn’t want to suffer without him. All I’m offering is you take care of the baby, and I help keep you from crying your eyes out in the middle of the day. You’ve still taken care of him all on your own no matter what I’ve done today.”

Sighing deeply, you knew Robb made it difficult to fight with his reason. He was calm and slow in how he explained things to you sometimes in just the right away so the information could sink in properly. Looking back up at him you smiled a bit more earnestly. “Alright. Just for now. I don’t want to take up more of your time then I have already.”

Pulling you a bit closer, Robb pressed a kiss to the side of your head before muttering something with much more mischief. “And next time I know not to tell Jon you were crying...” Looking up you whispered in an audacity that he had told Jon you were crying. “Aye.” Robb only laughed as your head dropped, realizing that Jon was not going to be happy that you were trying to hide the fact that you were that upset without him, but maybe a little confused as to why he’d be unhappy about it.

Some days it still felt like a fog clouded inside your mind and made it hard to decipher exactly what it was anyone thought about you anymore. Sighing deeply, you shook your head as you looked to the baby again. Even in his sleep he looked so much like Jon, the fog told you that at least, you gave him a son that looks just like him, that you did him that much and you hoped for now it would be enough.

Robb pulled you out of your mind once again, “Do you want to join us at the table, or do you want me to bring you a plate after?” You bit your lip and shook your head a gentle no, him reading what you meant perfectly. “I’ll make sure Sansa actually leaves you a lemon cake this time.”

It wasn’t much of a laugh he got out of you, but it was enough for now. Robb got you though the day and hopefully he would at least be there to help you get through a few more. Maybe you weren’t a good mother, or even a good wife, but maybe you could still say you were a good friend. At the least.

Gently as the sounds of talking and food being brought out could be heard in the next room, you reached for your phone finally, shifting little Eddard in your arms as he snuggled close to your stomach as you sat, when you finally opened it. Going right for the camera, you took a photo of him fast asleep cuddled against you. You didn’t send a message with it, unsure as to what you’d say now that you knew he would know you tried hiding this day from him, but you sent him the photo. Hoping that if he were mad or frustrated with you, maybe the sight of little Eddard would ease that just a bit until you could explain yourself to him when he got home.

North of the Wall, Jon opened his phone to see his son. Warmly dressed in the clothes he and you bought him before he was born, cuddled into your front as you held him close. The angle clearly meaning you had taken it on your own, so no one else was there.

It wasn’t you Jon was worried about, well it was. But not that way.

The moment you didn’t send him anything all morning Jon knew something was wrong. Every off chance he got when he and Tormund were making their way somewhere in his ratty old jeep he was far too proud of for how roughed up it was, he would try calling you. Any chance he could get inside to take his gloves off, he’d send you a message asking if you were alright. You didn’t respond.

Until suddenly in the early afternoon did he get one from Robb. Saying you were struggling, not doing well without him and that Robb was helping take care of you and the baby, so not to worry. It was twofold. His heart broke realizing you weren’t replying to him because you weren’t doing well, but that you must have been doing so badly that you were too upset to talk to him. Jon knew what that meant, you were scared he was disappointed in you. When that was the furthest from the truth.

None of his brothers or the free folk had ever seen Jon so depressed. He hated being away from you and the baby. He hated not waking up with you in his arms, or to the sounds of little Eddard crying only feet from the bed because he needed something. Of those late nights when everyone else was asleep, and you both were in the kitchen. You dressed down in a pretty and draping robe that he had bought you and he not even with a shirt on as you’d ready a bottle for the baby. The only light a small, dim one in the kitchen as you three would get over being awake so late and just enjoy your time as a new little family together.

He missed it. He missed taking care of his baby boy, he missed taking care of you. He hated that his duty took him so far from you, and he hated that he loved what he did too much to give it up. It was awful, nothing had made Jon smile in the nearly two days he was out here so far. Nothing.

Until he got that photo of you and the baby. You were alright enough to send him that, and he smiled. Almost a watering in his eyes at the sight, he was so grateful. His son fast asleep against you, and just maybe you were feeling better. He hoped you weren’t scared for when he came back, he’d have to ensure right away he was nothing but relieved to be back with you both. He’d give up everything to only take care of you two if he didn’t need to support you.

But there was the other thing. Robb. He was taking care of you. It should be a good thing. He was his brother, your close friend, and now you were family. He should want to help take care of you and the baby when Jon was away, but it ate at him. That feeling creeping up again and again since the day he called Jon about picking you up from a bar. That Robb cared too much. He cared too much then, he cared too much when Jon got you pregnant, he cared too much while you were pregnant. Now he cared too much with his baby in your arms.

Jon wasn’t sure what feeling ate away at him more. The deep pain he felt knowing you were suffering without him, or the fact that Robb now had the perfect opportunity to take Jons place, and he’d be able to do nothing to stop it.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf

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yushi-ni · 17 hours ago

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⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ mornings at the dorms 🌷🌷 ᯓᡣ𐭩

a typical morning at the wishies dorms with sion as your sleepy bf. !! not proofread !! just fluff, taking care of your bf and his members on their day off. ᯓ★ established relationship, mentioning of 'noona' once or twice. this is just for fun, for entertainment purposes only, so don't take it too seriously!! 💌🌷✨ HOPE YOU ENJOY!!

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ ⊹₊⟡⋆ masterlist 🌷🫧🩵

──୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ──

ʚɞ you and sion have been dating for a while now. as time went by, you had gotten a lot closer with his members as well. being the same age as sion, the others were a bit younger than you. naturally feeling the sisterly instinct to take care of the younger ones, you often find yourself making food, getting them their favorite snacks whenever you visit their dorms, help them out with their house chores, making sure they take good care of their health by giving them vitamins etc etc. you didn't mind, not at all, you cared for the younger ones health just as much as you did for your boyfriend. sion loves the way you treat his members. being the leader and oldest of his group, he naturally takes on the dad role of the team and as you came in the picture; you made the perfect fit as the 'mom' of the group. sion was thankful for all the things you did for him and his team, coming over to their dorms with food to make sure they all eat well after a long day of practicing, dropping off drinks to take along whenever a day full of schedules followed the next day, showing interest in the things each member liked. whether you liked it or not, you always made sure each individual member felt comfortable around you. reminding sion over and over again why he fell in love with you to begin with.

yesterday was a day like many others. your boyfriend and his team had a long day at work, preparing hard for their upcoming japan tour. as the boys all walked in one after the other they quickly freshened themselves up to go to bed as soon as possible. calling it a day soon enough as each one of them was tired and in need of rest. your boyfriend, half asleep and ready to finally close his eyes, sent you a quick goodnight text. telling you he loves you and will update you tomorrow, since he was too tired to give you a small report on his day.

as the next morning arrives, you got up early and well to step out of the house. it's your boyfriends first day off after a couple weeks of overseas schedules and long practice days. before heading to his dorm, you stop by the store to get some things. you make sure to grab some coffee along the way as well sincr you know your boyfriend will definitely need one to start his day. upon arriving you notice the quiet silence that fills up the guys' apartment. the whole dorm still sound asleep, you smile to yourself, glad the boys got some well deserved rest. after all this time, you know your ways around their place. feeling comfortable in their home, you have no issue being the only one awake. setting down the bag of small groceries you did, you put the drinks in the fridge to keep them cold. fidgeting around in their kitchen you start to set up the things you need to make breakfast for you and the others. completely lost in your own thoughts you mindlessly prepare the food, not noticing the youngest boy walking in to the kitchen. only as the youngster stood right infront of you, you acknowledge his presence. "ohhh goodmorning saku. did you sleep well?!!" you said with a grin as you saw the sleepy state he was in. not much coming from him he just silently joined you as you continued on with the rest of the food. as time passed by, more members woke up one by one. the smell of freshly baked french toast started filling up the air as well as yummy pancakes. greeting you as soon as they stepped in the kitchen, each member thanked you for the breakfast you made. the chairs at the table were taken as the boys sat down, ready to eat!! all.. expect for one. "noona, i think sion-hyung needs a human alarm clock to be awakened from his sleep" riku laughs as he takes his first bite.

as the room filled up with the guys slowly getting more energized and awake, the sound of laughter and chatting soon becomes louder and louder. as you smile upon the view infront of you, you decide to make your way to your boyfriends room. the room was quiet with only the little bit of sunshine peeking through the blinds. enough to see the sleeping figure on the bed. as you silently laughed, you walk inside the room. not wanting to wake him up just yet, you open the blinds to let the morning sunshine in completely. as you look over to your bf, who did not move one inch even though the bright lights filled up the whole room now, you cannot help but smile. sitting on the side of his bed you are contemplating whether to wake him up or let him sleep a bit longer. as you reached out to brush away some of the hair that covers his face, you feel your bf leaning in to your touch. "morning.." he says with his eyes closed, voice still hoarse. "goodmorning, i didn't want to wake you up but i made breakfast for you guys" you lean down to give your sleepy bf a quick kiss. as you come back up, you feel two arms holding you in place. "mmh just 5 more minutes please.." you giggled, "ok you can stay in bed 5 more minutes, but make sure to come out soon enough before the others eat all the food!" you said while holding back your laughter to the view of your bf fighting to bright light. "noooo, with you. 5 more minutes with you.." not planning on letting you go just yet, sion pulls you even closer as he pulls you to lay down next to him. not being able to refuse his cute whiny request, you laid down and brushed your hands over his face once more.

"mmh i don't think i am hungry" sion says as he pulls you impossibly closer. "yes you are!!! i made so much yummy food, you have to try!!" you said, playfully offended by your boyfriends statement. "i think yushi will have finished all the food before i can even get to the table" sion groans as he feels you sitting up straight. "cmon!!! get up, you have to eat!!!" you pushed your boyfriends arms away as you laughed at his state. no attempts were made as sion just laughed and rolled onto his back. "no i was joking, they will leave some for me" he pulled his blanket all the way up to his neck before you snatched it off again. giggling to yourself as your boyfriends eyes shut open by the sudden action, you took both his hands and tried pulling him up from his laying position. "nooo baby please, you said 5 more minutes!!" trying to pull you back down by using his weight in his advantage, you stand your ground and yank his arms once more. "cmon sionnn i promise you can stay in bed all day afterwards!!!" you laughed at your bf as he groans by the thought of getting up. "if you get up now, we can watch that one movie you wanted to see later!" there was no need to repeat your words again since your bf almost jumped up immediately after you said that. eating breakfast now to rush back to bed again afterwards to stay in and watch movies with you?? suddenly the man was hungry and could not wait to try out the food you made for him.

laughing at your boyfriends sudden rushed awakening, you get pulled off the bed as well. "pinky promise, no games or play time with the others first" sion says as he stretches his arms before pulling you close in a hug again, leaning down to rest his head on top of yours. "just movies with the two of us?? mmh i will have to consider the pros and cons" you jokingly said laughing at the way you feel your bf squeeze you a little tighter. "promise, otherwise i am not moving" sion says. "ok ok ok i promise. but first breakfast!!! i even got you coffee!!" you replied to which your bf almost immediately let go of you and walked to the door; "hurry baby, i have places to be" he said as he walked through the door. laughing at your bf, you followed him back to the kitchen. once again being welcomed by a full table, this time all seats taken as your bf took his spot on the head of the table.

walking to the fridge to take out the coffee you got for your bf, you make your way to the table and finally sit down as well. sion, thanking you for the coffee, put his hand on your thigh to give it a quick squeeze as he starts eating. looking around at the left overs the younger members left for you to eat, you smile by the thought of them eating well and enjoying your food. taking your first bite yourself, ryo, why was sitting next to you, started excitedly talking about the things he had done the day before. listening to the younger one, you finish eating and put your chopsticks down, satisfied with your full belly and so immersed in your conversation with ryo, you didn't notice the others started cleaning up already. "ohhh you guys, i will clean up. you can go wash you and do your things!!" you said as the youngsters were chaotically trying to clean up their dishes.

as you were putting away the washed dishes, you felt a pair of arms sneaking around your waist. sion rested his head in the crook of your neck, you smiled at your boyfriends actions. "sionnnn i cannot clean like this" you giggled as your bf only snuggled his face even further into your neck. "mmmh it's clean y/n, very clean, has never looked better" he said as he kisses the exposed skin on your neck. laughing at the clingy boy, you put down the last few things and turn around to face your boyfriend. taking a moment to look at his pretty face, you put your arms around his neck, smiling up to your bf. sion, returning the same look on his own face, leans down as he kisses you. one.. two.. three pecks before he pulls back to lean his forehead against yours. "thank you for making us breakfast y/n, you really are the best" he says before locking your lips in another sweet kiss. a bit longer this time, fully taking in the sweet taste of your lips on his. moving your hands from behind his neck to cup his face, you smile into the kiss. feeling your boyfriends hands find their way to either side of your hips, you pull back. sion, following your lips with his, opens his eyes to look at you. once again, wondering what he did to deserve such amazing girlfriend like you.

putting your hands on his shoulders and giving him a little tap, you say; "so!!! ryo said he wanted to show me his new plushies!!! i have places to be!!" you giggled as you quickly escape your boyfriends hold and run out of the kitchen. sion who was frozen on the spot, left in disbelief for a little second, rushed out of the kitchen, running after you as you were laughing when he caught up to you and pulled you in his grip again. "nice try, you are mine the rest of the day!!!" he laughed as he walked you to his room again. "noona. do you want to play on my switch together?" sakuya asked as he walked out of his room looking for you. "your noona is already booked for today, saku, go ask ryo to play" sion said laughing as he opened the door to his bedroom, still holding you as he follows behind you. "i will play with you later saku, ok!!" you yell as your boyfriend was quick to let out a; "no she won't!!!" before he fully closes the door. leaving the maknae standing in the opening of his own bedroom looking over to yushi and riku who were already settled and cozy on the couch, watching the whole scene unfold. "i don't think noona will play with you today" yushi says as the youngest looks at him with visible question marks on his face to which riku laughingly adds; "you will understand when you get your own girlfriend"

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fastcardotmp3 · 10 months ago

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the thing with feathers (series)

Steve Harrington changes after the death of his mother. So too do the benefits of his relationship with Eddie.

i. someone else's favorite song (120k, E) [cover art] [playlist]

[+ podfic by @amanita-fierce @mymariahcarey @n0connections]

“Not sick, not sick,” he slurs, and Eddie wants to see his face, wants to hold it in his hands, wants to look him in the eye when he says, “just sad. Sad. Fuck… fuck, sad.” “Why are you sad, big guy?” Eddie asks. Steve laughs again, but it’s sharper this time, it doesn’t last as long, because as soon as the words slip out of his mouth— “My mom’s dead—” —it walks that treacherous line between the two sounds and morphs straight to a broken sort of sobbing that reaches directly into Eddie’s chest and drags out his heart.

ii. no one else will do (11k, E, prequel) [cover art]

“I mean,” a twist of a smile and a thump of his heart, “you could be that person for me. If you want.” “You’re…” Eddie’s eyebrows lift impossibly high, but he meets Steve gaze-for-gaze, lips parting just enough for Steve to get a peek of pink tongue. “Asking to suck your cock,” Steve confirms bluntly.

#still in my organization era shhh #this one deserved it's own masterlist that's all!!!#dot masterlist #dot fic #sefs #steddie

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eddiemunsonsmum · 2 months ago

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Just saw this comment on a story posted a month ago.

*cries in Eddie Munson Solo Series no one wanted to read, interact with or request for*

No shade to the person that commented this on their own fic if you recognize it. It's not their fault. I'm not mad at them. More crying in the tags.

#and no I didn't tag the solo series like I normally would because it's not about THAT. It's not about trying to get people to read it #It was just really ouchie to see the same concept I wrote 2 years ago get triple the notes in ONE MONTH.#and double the notes of my solo series masterlist in general in one month vs 2 years of my stories sitting there rotting #Then I see people saying they need more solo Eddie and I'm just here like my dudes I begged for requests. BEGGED. But bc I wasn't #/have never been a popular writer people don't want it from ME. It's like omg we want THIS but not like that. Not from you.#Can't help but let it get you down when nothing has changed in 2 years. It's not like I worked my way up and have the interaction now #that every other blog I used to commiserate with back in the day is getting currently. Fandom isn't a competition but it's not fair either #and I really struggle with that a lot of the time #Also yes I will concede I should be happy with the notes on the solo series because they are the highest of all the work on my page but #they're still nothing compared to what some people have just hours after posting a new story.#I saw someone complaining the other day that there are less new stories in the fandom than ever 1. That's simply not true. 2. Even if it wa #can you blame writers for giving up when readers are checking the same popular blogs over again or reading the same 5 tropes the same #2 pairings over and over. The same series? Over and over. Ignoring everything else and then complaining that their faves don't post enough?#That the popular writer with the incredible series (that rightfully deserves interaction) hasn't posted a new dad!eddie or rockstar!eddie #drabble in ages meanwhile there are writes out there pouring their souls into dad!eddie and no one reads it. There is so much rockstar Eddi #smut out there that it could sustain a brand new reader for an entire year before they needed a new fic #Idk man. I'm just feeling so defeated. I write for fun now. But there was a point in time where I desperately tried to build a platform by #offering requests and writing a lot of things I would not otherwise write to try and gain traction on my page and every time I see another #food fucking fic get hundreds of notes I get so sad that I wrote that stupid Melon fic because I had people in my life that told me #they would be excited to read it and for what? One of them still talks to me. The others moved on so fast. Most didn't even reblog it.#Some of them have since written their own food fucking fics that got triple the notes of my OG. Again. No shade to them. I don't own the #concept. It's just disheartening and fucking sad above all else. How hard I tried to get people to LIKE me and my stories. 😂#Just sad hours in general tonight my guys. Going to go and pour the bad feelings into Aftermath and then maybe make a bad life choice and #pour all my savings into an ipad #YES I KNOW first world problems. I know. That's why I try not to talk about it bc it seems so petty considering the state of the world #But you can't help what gets you down #EMMs Journal #EMM's Journal

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gyuuberryy · 2 months ago

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prince charming's mismatch

pairing: prince!heeseung x princess!reader

synopsis: you and prince heeseung have been rivals for as long as you can remember. what began as childhood clashes has grown into a deep-seated animosity over the years. but when your sister runs away on her wedding day, you're forced to take her place and marry heeseung—the last person you ever wanted to call your husband.

now bound in an unwanted marriage, you’re faced with navigating the tension between your unresolved hatred and an unexpected attraction. as palace intrigue and looming threats surround you both, you must confront the truth of your feelings. will the bitterness between you tear you apart, or will it ignite something far more powerful?

genre: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, arranged marriage au

warnings: highly suggestive content!!! kissing, hee and reader are mean at first, insecurities, jealous!hee

note: i've been meaning to write this plot for an year now, im happy with how it turned out! e2l with hee is always soo fun to write. enjoyy

word count: 11.5k

royally yours masterlist | next: jay

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the first time you met prince heeseung, it was at a grand summer garden party hosted by your parents in the palace’s sprawling grounds. you were barely six years old, and he wasn’t much older, yet even then, the air between you crackled with something akin to competition. your governess had dressed you in your finest lace frock, with your hair tied in perfect ribbons, but none of that mattered. you were too busy building a grand sandcastle near the fountain, your little fingers carefully patting the turrets into shape.

that was when heeseung appeared, his shadow falling over your castle like a storm cloud. he crouched beside you without so much as a polite greeting, his royal title apparently excusing his lack of manners. his eyes, sharp for a child, surveyed your handiwork critically.

“that’s not right,” he declared, reaching out to touch one of your towers. “the walls need to be thicker, or it’ll fall.”

you frowned, already bristling at the unsolicited advice. “it’s my castle. i know what i’m doing.”

he smirked, a small, superior thing that made your blood simmer even at that tender age. without asking, he began "fixing" it, his hands too rough as he demolished what you had so carefully crafted.

“stop!” you cried, shoving him back with all the strength your little body could muster. heeseung stumbled, landing awkwardly on the grass, but instead of being chastened, he merely laughed.

“see?” he said, gesturing at the collapsed sandcastle. “i told you it would fall.”

tears of frustration welled in your eyes as you glared at him. “you ruined it! i didn’t ask for your help!”

heeseung stood, dusting off his fine clothes, a boyish smirk still plastered on his face. “you should thank me. i was doing you a favour.”

from that day forward, any time your families met, it was as if an unspoken rule had been established—whenever you were in the same room, you and heeseung would find something to argue about. it didn’t matter if it was who deserved the biggest slice of cake or who could recite their latin conjugations faster; the two of you were constantly at odds.

as the years passed, your mutual disdain only deepened. by the time you were ten, heeseung had already earned a reputation as the golden boy of his kingdom, a future king who excelled in everything he touched. your own accomplishments were always impressive—your parents had ensured you were well-versed in languages, history, and the fine arts—but whenever heeseung was around, it felt as though all your achievements paled in comparison.

“did you hear?” one of your tutors asked one morning as you sat in the drawing room, diligently practising your embroidery. “prince heeseung has been awarded top marks in his studies again. he’s to receive a commendation from the royal academy.”

you didn’t look up, but your needle paused for the briefest of moments. “how wonderful for him,” you muttered, the words heavy with sarcasm.

that evening, at another royal banquet, you couldn’t help but bring up your own accomplishments, eager for even a crumb of recognition.

“i’ve been practising my archery,” you said proudly to the gathered guests, though your eyes couldn’t help but flick toward heeseung, who lounged nearby, looking as regal and aloof as ever. “i managed to hit the bullseye several times this week.”

heeseung glanced up lazily, catching your eye with that familiar, insufferable smirk. “impressive,” he said in a bored tone, “though archery isn’t quite the same as, say, fencing. that requires real skill.”

your fists clenched under the table, your pride wounded by his casual dismissal. but this was the way it always went. no matter what you did, heeseung always found a way to make it seem insignificant, as though he were the sun and you were merely a star dimmed by his brilliance.

by the time you were both teenagers, the animosity between you had grown more complicated, though no less intense. you found yourselves at the same royal gatherings, balls, and court functions, and each time, it was as if the entire room held its breath, waiting to see what you and heeseung would clash over next.

at one particularly grand ball, you had been feeling proud of your debut. you wore a gown of the finest silk, and you’d received more than a few admiring glances from the eligible noblemen in attendance. you were certain this was your night to shine—until heeseung approached.

“you look well enough,” he said, his voice smooth but with an edge that set your teeth on edge. “though i hope you don’t trip during the quadrille like last time.”

your cheeks flushed, remembering all too well the minor misstep you’d taken at a previous ball. “i won’t,” you snapped, glaring at him. “and even if i did, it’s better than fencing yourself into a corner like you did at the tournament last month.”

his smile faltered for just a second, but that was enough to make you feel victorious.

yet, despite the constant barbs, there was something else simmering beneath the surface now—a tension you refused to name. you hated the way your heart raced whenever heeseung was near, the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of a room. and, though you’d never admit it, you hated even more that part of you missed the old days when your squabbles were simple, childish things.

it all changed the day your sister’s engagement to heeseung was announced. the prince who had been your lifelong nemesis was now to become your sister’s husband, the future king of your kingdom. it was a match made for political alliance, but it felt like a betrayal. you had expected more from him—well, not more kindness, but certainly more rebellion. yet, heeseung accepted the engagement with the same cool composure he did everything else.

for the first time in years, he stopped seeking you out, stopped picking those fights you had come to expect. he no longer bothered with sharp remarks or smug smiles. instead, he kept his distance, as though you were beneath his notice.

you told yourself it didn’t matter. after all, what did you care if heeseung ignored you now? he was going to be your brother-in-law, and that was enough reason to keep things civil. and yet, a strange, hollow feeling settled in your chest whenever you saw him and your sister together. he was colder now, more mature, but somehow more distant than ever.

little did you know, your rivalry with prince heeseung was far from over. if anything, it was only just beginning.

the night your world fell apart, it started with a simple knock on your chamber door. the palace had been abuzz with preparations—florists arranging garlands, tailors hemming gowns, and courtiers whispering about the grand union that would strengthen two kingdoms. you had spent the evening rehearsing your duties as maid of honour, biting back any remnants of bitterness that still clung to your feelings about the match. it didn’t matter that you had spent your entire life despising heeseung; your sister loved him, or at least, she was supposed to.

you were preparing to retire, brushing your hair by the dim glow of candlelight, when your sister slipped into the room, her face pale and eyes wide with fear. you’d never seen her look so frantic. your heart sank before she even said a word.

“i’m not going to marry him,” she whispered, wringing her hands in the folds of her silk nightgown. her voice trembled, but it was steady enough for you to know she wasn’t joking.

your heart lurched. “what are you talking about? the wedding is tomorrow!”

her wide eyes darted to the door as if she feared someone might overhear. she leaned in closer, gripping your wrist with trembling fingers. “i can’t marry heeseung,” she said urgently. “i don’t love him. i’m leaving tonight.”

the words hit you like a physical blow. “you’re what?”

“i’m eloping,” she said, her voice firmer now, as if saying it out loud gave her courage. “with lucien.”

lucien. you barely knew the man, a minor noble from another court, but he had charmed your sister quickly. he was handsome and witty, but far beneath her station. you stared at her, disbelief mixing with fury.

“lucien? are you mad? you can’t just abandon your duty for—”

“for love?” she interrupted, her voice rising in defiance. “yes, i can. i won’t be trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who cares nothing for me.”

you swallowed hard, your mind racing. heeseung, distant and cold as he had been with you, had shown no signs of affection for your sister either, but this was bigger than personal feelings. the marriage was political, a union meant to secure alliances, peace, and power. your sister fleeing would bring nothing but chaos.

“you’ll ruin everything,” you whispered, your voice thick with the weight of the consequences. “our families, the kingdoms—this is bigger than you.”

her eyes softened with a mix of guilt and determination. “i know. but i can’t live my life for duty, not like this.” she stood, gathering a small satchel you hadn’t noticed before, already packed and ready for her escape.

“you won’t stop me, will you?” she asked, her gaze pleading.

you wanted to scream, to shake her out of this madness, but your throat tightened. she was your sister. you loved her. and you knew, deep down, that nothing you said would change her mind.

“i should,” you said, your voice quiet, brittle. “but no. i won’t.”

your sister smiled, a fragile, relieved thing, before pulling you into a tight embrace. the hug felt final, like the end of something neither of you could come back from. when she finally let go, you stood frozen in the middle of her room as she slipped out the window and into the night, her footsteps fading into the shadows.

the palace remained blissfully unaware of the catastrophe until morning, when your mother’s scream shattered the early dawn peace.

the palace was in chaos the next morning. servants rushed through the halls, panic etched on their faces as whispers spread like wildfire—the bride had run away. you stayed in your chambers as long as possible, trying to gather your thoughts, your emotions, trying to prepare for the inevitable fallout.

when the summons came from your father, it felt like a death knell. the walk to the throne room felt endless, each step heavier than the last. the moment you stepped through the grand doors, you saw heeseung standing beside your parents. his face was a mask of icy calm, but his eyes…his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, cold and unforgiving.

he didn’t even glance at you as your father spoke.

“your sister has disgraced this family,” your father’s voice boomed, his tone laced with anger and disappointment. “but the marriage cannot be abandoned. the alliance with heeseung’s kingdom is too important.”

you stood still, your stomach churning as you braced for what was coming.

“therefore,” your father continued, his gaze hard as stone, “you will take her place.”

for a moment, the words didn’t register. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. you? marry heeseung? no, it wasn’t possible. you had spent your entire life in a silent war with him. the idea of marrying the man who had been your nemesis since childhood was unthinkable.

your mother’s voice, soft but firm, broke the silence. “the arrangements have already been made. the wedding will proceed as planned. you will become heeseung’s bride.”

“no.” the word slipped from your lips before you could stop it, your heart racing. “i can’t.”

your father’s eyes narrowed, and your mother’s expression hardened with disappointment. “you will do your duty,” your father said coldly. “this is not up for discussion.”

duty. it always came down to that. your entire life, you had been prepared for moments like this, but not this moment. not like this.

finally, you turned to heeseung, desperate for any sign of protest, for him to say something—anything—that would stop this madness. but he was silent. his face remained expressionless, as though none of this affected him. he looked at you as if you were just a piece of the puzzle, another part of the kingdom’s grand design.

“is that all i am to you?” you asked, your voice shaking. “just a replacement? a stand-in for the bride who ran away?”

for the first time, heeseung’s gaze met yours, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable, buried deep beneath the coldness. but his words cut through you like ice.

“you’re a princess,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “your role is to serve your kingdom. that’s all that matters.”

a bitter laugh escaped your throat. “you’ve hated me for years, heeseung. and now you expect me to just—what? pretend none of that matters?”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. instead, he turned away, his indifference stinging more than any of the insults you had traded over the years.

your father spoke again, his tone final. “the marriage will happen. prepare yourself.”

the grand hall was suffused with the glow of flickering candles and soft sunlight filtering through stained glass windows. the scent of fresh roses—your sister’s favourite, not yours—hung heavily in the air, mocking the gravity of the moment. you stood at the entrance of the hall, your hands clenched so tightly around the bouquet that your knuckles were white. the murmurs of the courtiers echoed around you, a constant hum of speculation and judgement. no matter how well you carried yourself today, the whispers wouldn’t stop.

the switch of the bride was the scandal of the century, and you were at the centre of it.

ahead of you, heeseung stood tall, his face as unreadable as stone. the same detachment was in his eyes, his expression cool and composed as if this marriage was merely another political manoeuvre for him, another step toward the throne. he didn’t look at you with warmth, or even a hint of care. to him, you weren’t his wife—you were the replacement for the woman who had run away.

you walked down the aisle, every step heavier than the last, the reality of your situation crushing you. heeseung’s gaze was steady as you approached, but it wasn’t the gaze of a man looking at his bride. it was a look of cold calculation, a man who had resigned himself to duty.

when you finally reached him, your heart thudding loudly in your chest, you barely registered the priest's words. the vows—sacred, binding—felt hollow, like a cruel twist of fate. how could you stand here, repeating the words meant for your sister? they weren't meant for you. you were never supposed to be the bride.

heeseung took your hand, and the warmth of his skin was a sharp contrast to the chill that ran down your spine. his grip was firm, not gentle, but not cruel either—just dutiful. he spoke his vows with a steady voice, each word sounding rehearsed, as though they meant nothing to him beyond their formality.

and then it was your turn. you hesitated, the weight of the kingdom on your shoulders, your pulse quickening. your voice trembled slightly as you repeated the vows, feeling the eyes of everyone in the hall on you—expecting you to fulfil your role, to be the perfect princess. you could barely choke out the words, but somehow, you managed. and with every word, you felt the invisible chains of your new life tightening around you.

when the priest finally pronounced you husband and wife, heeseung’s lips brushed yours in the briefest of kisses—so cold and devoid of feeling that it felt more like a business transaction than the union of two people. the cheers of the court erupted around you, but in that moment, the applause sounded like the closing of a cage. you were trapped, bound to him, to this life.

as you turned to leave the altar, heeseung offered his arm, the tension between you palpable. his eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, but there was no warmth there. just that cold, resigned look you had grown accustomed to. you were both playing your roles, just as you had been trained to do your whole lives.

but this wasn’t a game. this was your future, and it felt like a noose tightening around your neck.

the wedding feast had been a blur—a cacophony of forced smiles, hollow congratulations, and polite toasts that masked the underlying tension. you had barely spoken a word to heeseung throughout the entire affair. he hadn’t made any attempt to speak to you either, remaining as distant and composed as ever.

now, as you stood alone in the chambers that were to be yours and heeseung’s, the reality of your new life settled heavily on your chest. the palace chambers were far too quiet, the air thick with the tension that had been building between you and heeseung for years. as you stood in the centre of the room, staring at the enormous bed draped in rich fabrics, it felt like the walls were closing in. the room was elegantly decorated—ornate tapestries hung on the walls, and the grand four-poster bed was fit for a queen. but none of it mattered. the splendour felt like a mockery of the situation you found yourself in. tonight, this room was not a sanctuary but a gilded cage.

your breath caught in your throat as the door creaked open. heeseung entered, his presence commanding even in the subdued candlelight. the tension between you was palpable, stretching like a thin, fragile thread that could snap at any moment. his gaze flicked toward you briefly, but he didn’t speak, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

heeseung moved with practised grace, his movements calm and deliberate. he began undoing the buttons on his ceremonial jacket, the fine fabric sliding off his shoulders and landing in a careless heap on the chair by the vanity. you stood frozen, unsure of what to say, what to do. this wasn’t how you had imagined a wedding night would feel—though you had never dreamed this night would be with heeseung, of all people.

his back was to you now, his broad shoulders tense, though he did nothing to betray any emotion. you could feel the distance between you both, even though he was just across the room. heeseung had always been composed, guarded, but tonight, his coldness cut even deeper than usual.

he finally broke the silence, his voice low but steady. “it’s late. you should rest.” there was no affection in his tone, just the same sense of duty that had hung over the entire day. you weren’t his bride by choice, and he wasn’t your husband by desire.

you bit back a bitter laugh. rest? as if you could simply close your eyes and pretend this was normal. pretend that this marriage was something other than a trap. “is that it, then?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended. “we go to bed and pretend everything is fine?”

heeseung turned to face you, his expression as unreadable as ever. he didn’t answer right away, as if weighing his response carefully. “what do you want me to say?” his tone was measured, but there was an edge to it, a hint of frustration that matched your own.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. i wasn’t supposed to marry you.”

something flickered in heeseung’s eyes, though it disappeared as quickly as it came. he regarded you for a moment, his gaze unreadable, before he spoke again. “do you think i wanted this?” his words were quiet but laced with a bitterness that surprised you. “i didn’t ask for this any more than you did.”

you swallowed, feeling a lump rise in your throat. you hadn’t expected this admission from him, hadn’t expected him to show any vulnerability. “then what are we supposed to do?” your voice was softer now, the anger ebbing away, replaced by uncertainty. “how are we supposed to live like this?”

heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, a rare moment of frustration breaking through his calm facade. “we do what’s expected of us,” he said, though there was a heaviness to his words, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “we fulfill our duties. that’s all we can do.”

“duties.” the word tasted bitter on your tongue. it had always come down to that, hadn’t it? duty to the crown, to the kingdom, to your family. and now, duty to heeseung.

the silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable. heeseung turned away, moving toward the window where the heavy drapes framed the view of the darkened palace gardens. his silhouette was stark against the faint glow of moonlight, his posture stiff, almost defensive.

after a long moment, he spoke again, his voice softer this time. “i’ll sleep over there.” he gestured to the chaise near the window, a fine piece of furniture that now seemed woefully out of place in this awkward, tension-filled room. “you can have the bed.”

you blinked, surprised by his offer. it was the last thing you expected from him, but it was a relief nonetheless. “you don’t have to—”

“i’m not doing this for you,” he interrupted, his voice firm, but not unkind. “i just don’t want to make this any more difficult than it already is.”

with that, he moved toward the chaise, gathering a pillow and blanket from the wardrobe. his actions were efficient, almost mechanical, as if he had already resigned himself to this fate. he didn’t look at you as he arranged the blanket over the chaise.

you stood there, feeling a strange mix of emotions—relief, awkwardness, and something else, something heavier that you couldn’t quite place. this was your wedding night, but it was nothing like you had ever imagined. there was no closeness, no warmth—just two people bound together by obligation and circumstance.

finally, you moved toward the bed, the thick carpets muffling your steps. the soft fabric of your gown felt heavy as you climbed beneath the covers, though they provided no comfort. you lay there, staring up at the intricate canopy above, your mind racing. this bed, this room—none of it felt like yours.

heeseung settled on the chaise, his back to you, the distance between you both feeling vast despite the small room. the silence was oppressive, each second dragging on longer than the last. you wondered if he was as uneasy as you were, or if he had already steeled himself to this new reality.

for a long while, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the faint rustling of fabric as you shifted beneath the covers. the weight of the day, of the vows, of your new title, pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.

finally, you couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “heeseung,” you whispered, unsure if you even wanted him to respond.

he didn’t turn, but his voice was low and steady when he answered. “what?”

you hesitated, searching for the right words. “do you think... do you think this will ever get easier?”

there was a long pause before he responded, his voice quiet, almost resigned. “i don’t know.”

and with that, the conversation ended. heeseung remained silent, his back still turned to you, and you knew there was nothing more to say. you turned onto your side, pulling the blankets tighter around you, though they offered little warmth. the room felt too big, too empty, despite his presence.

eventually, exhaustion crept in, dulling the sharp edges of your thoughts. but even as sleep began to claim you, a cold, sinking feeling settled in your chest. this was your life now—bound to a man you barely knew, a man who had been your enemy for years, and yet, somehow, your husband.

and as you drifted off into uneasy sleep, the last thought that crossed your mind was how strange it felt to be lying just feet away from heeseung, yet feeling as though he was a world away.

the morning after the wedding dawned cold and gray, mirroring the lingering tension between you and heeseung. you woke up in the large, empty bed, the space next to you untouched, a stark reminder of the distance that had been established on your wedding night. the air in the room felt thick, suffocating, as if the very walls were pressing in on you, reminding you of your new reality.

as you sat up, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings only worsened the tightness in your chest. this was your new life. not just this bed, but this room, this palace—heeseung’s palace—and you would share it with a man who barely spoke to you, who looked at you with that same cold distance he had always shown.

you dressed quickly, your movements mechanical, trying not to think too much. the maids moved around you silently, well-trained and efficient, but you could feel their eyes on you. it was impossible to escape the fact that everyone knew. the entire kingdom knew the story—the princess who had run away, and her sister forced to take her place. the whispers would never stop.

when you finally made your way downstairs to the grand dining room, heeseung was already seated at the long table, a plate of food in front of him. he didn’t look up when you entered, simply continued cutting into his meal with precise, practised movements. you hesitated for a moment, then took your seat across from him.

the silence was unbearable.

you picked at your food, barely tasting it, glancing at heeseung from time to time. his expression was as unreadable as ever, his attention focused on the papers beside his plate—likely matters of the kingdom that required his attention. he was already immersed in his duties, the weight of his impending kingship pressing down on him just as heavily as your new role as his wife weighed on you.

finally, you couldn’t stand it any longer. “do you plan to ignore me for the rest of our lives?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

heeseung didn’t look up immediately, taking his time to finish his bite and set down his utensils with deliberate care. when he finally met your gaze, his expression was cool, detached. “i’m not ignoring you.”

you scoffed, unable to hide your frustration. “you’ve barely spoken to me since the wedding.”

he raised an eyebrow, his tone as calm as ever. “what would you like me to say?”

the question took you off guard. you hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. you opened your mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to respond. what did you want him to say? that he regretted everything as much as you did? that he hated this arrangement, too? or perhaps you wanted him to acknowledge the years of bitterness between you, to admit that this marriage was a farce.

instead, you said, “we’re married now, heeseung. we have to live together. we can’t keep pretending the other doesn’t exist.”

his jaw tightened ever so slightly, but his voice remained calm. “i’m aware of that.”

you waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. the silence stretched on once again, thicker than before, suffocating in its awkwardness. you pushed your plate away, no longer interested in eating. “fine,” you muttered under your breath, standing abruptly. “i suppose i’ll just get used to it, then.”

you turned to leave, but his voice stopped you. “you don’t have to like this any more than i do, but we have responsibilities now.”

you paused, your back to him, your hands clenched at your sides. “responsibilities,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. it seemed like that was all your life had ever been reduced to—duty, obligation, and responsibilities.

without another word, you left the dining room, the heavy doors closing behind you with a soft thud. you could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on you even more as you walked through the halls of the palace, each step echoing in the vast emptiness. you weren’t just trapped in this marriage—you were trapped in this life.

days passed, and though you and heeseung were forced to share the same space, your interactions remained minimal, stilted. in the mornings, you would find him already at the breakfast table, poring over documents and barely acknowledging your presence. he would spend his days attending council meetings and handling matters of state, leaving you to navigate the palace on your own, feeling more like a guest in your own home than its mistress.

at night, he would retire to the chambers late, often when you were already lying in bed, pretending to sleep. he would quietly take his place on the chaise near the window, far enough away to avoid any awkwardness, but close enough that his presence was a constant reminder of the divide between you.

it was during these nights that the loneliness settled in most heavily. the silence of the room, broken only by the occasional rustling of fabric or the soft crackle of the fireplace, was suffocating. you had grown accustomed to sleeping alone, but now, knowing heeseung was just a few feet away, the distance between you felt almost unbearable. there was an unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to bridge the gap.

one evening, after yet another day of awkward meals and tense silences, you found yourself in the library, one of the few places in the palace where you felt at peace. the vast room was filled with shelves upon shelves of books, their spines worn and familiar. you had always loved to read, finding solace in the stories and histories of others when your own life felt too overwhelming.

you were seated by the window, the late afternoon sun casting a soft glow over the pages of your book, when the door creaked open. you looked up, surprised to see heeseung standing in the doorway. he paused for a moment, as if uncertain whether to enter or leave, his eyes scanning the room before they settled on you.

“may i join you?” he asked, his voice unusually soft.

you blinked, caught off guard by his request. this was the first time he had sought you out since the wedding, and the suddenness of it left you momentarily speechless. you nodded, unsure of what else to do. “of course.”

heeseung crossed the room, moving with his usual grace, and took a seat in the armchair opposite you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet of the library enveloping you both. he seemed content to sit in silence, his gaze wandering to the bookshelves that lined the walls.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. “this is... one of the quieter rooms.”

you raised an eyebrow, a small, incredulous smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “it’s a library, heeseung. of course it’s quiet.”

to your surprise, he chuckled softly, though it was a dry, humourless sound. “fair enough.”

silence fell again, but this time it wasn’t as suffocating. there was something almost... peaceful about it, the weight of your shared presence not as unbearable as it had been before. you watched him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how tired he looked. the weight of his responsibilities was evident in the slight furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders sagged ever so slightly.

after a while, you set your book down on your lap, deciding to break the silence. “it must be difficult,” you said quietly. “taking on so much.”

heeseung didn’t answer right away, his gaze still focused on the shelves, but eventually, he nodded. “it is.”

you hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, softer this time. “you don’t have to carry it all alone, you know.”

he turned to look at you then, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something softer than the cold indifference you had grown accustomed to.

“and what would you suggest?” he asked, his voice quiet but not unkind.

“i don’t know,” you admitted. “but we’re in this together, whether we like it or not.”

heeseung’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, and then he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. it wasn’t much, but it was the first step—however small—toward something more than just forced cohabitation.

the shift in your relationship came faster than you expected. it started with a challenge—a reckless, unspoken dare that neither of you could resist.

it had been a clear, crisp day, the first after several weeks of rain. you were restless, tired of the palace walls and the constant burden of your new role. you had gone to the stables, hoping to take one of the horses out for a ride, needing to feel the wind in your hair and the ground beneath you. but when you arrived, heeseung was already there, adjusting the reins of his own horse.

you paused in the doorway, surprised to see him. “you ride?”

he glanced up, one eyebrow raised. “you sound surprised.”

“i am,” you admitted. “i’ve never seen you ride before.”

he chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

the challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and you couldn’t resist rising to it. “care to prove it?” you asked, moving toward your own horse.

heeseung’s smirk widened. “what do you have in mind?”

you mounted your horse swiftly, the thrill of the challenge already coursing through your veins. “a race.”

heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “you think you can beat me?”

“i know i can,” you shot back, turning your horse toward the open field beyond the stables.

without another word, you spurred your horse into motion, not waiting for his response. behind you, you heard heeseung’s laughter, low and rich, before the sound of hooves thundering against the ground told you he had accepted the challenge.

you raced through the fields, the wind whipping through your hair, the thrill of the chase making your heart race. heeseung was right behind you, and you could feel the tension building, the competitive edge between you sparking like fire. it was like being children again, challenging each other at every turn, pushing each other to the limit.

but this time, it was different. the stakes were higher, the tension thicker, and the way heeseung looked at you when he finally caught up to you sent a shiver down your spine.

when he finally pulled his horse beside yours, you were both breathless, your faces flushed with adrenaline. you glanced over at him, and the look in his eyes—intense, dark, heated—made your pulse quicken.

“not bad,” he said, his voice low, rough around the edges.

you smirked, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “you almost kept up.”

heeseung leaned in just slightly, his gaze locking with yours. “almost?” he murmured, his voice sending a jolt through you.

you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. the space between you was too close, the air charged with something you weren’t quite ready to name. his eyes lingered on your lips for just a moment too long, and you could feel the heat of his presence, the tension that had always existed between you now manifesting in a way that was far more dangerous.

before either of you could say anything, heeseung pulled back, his smirk returning as if nothing had happened. “we’ll call it a draw,” he said, though there was a teasing edge to his voice.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, shaking your head with a laugh. “you wish.”

but as you rode back to the palace, the tension between you remained, simmering beneath the surface. it was no longer the resentment of old enemies, but something far more complex, far more dangerous. and for the first time, you found yourself wondering what would happen if that tension ever boiled over.

later that night, the air was thick with the remnants of the day’s energy. you couldn’t sleep, your mind still racing from the ride and the way heeseung had looked at you—how close he had come, how your heart had nearly betrayed you in that moment of suspended anticipation.

you wandered the halls of the palace aimlessly, your footsteps soft against the marble floors. the palace at night was a different place, quiet and still, the shadows long and heavy. it felt like a place where secrets lingered in every corner, where the walls whispered of things that could never be said aloud.

as you passed by the study, you noticed the faint glow of light beneath the door. curiosity piqued, you pushed the door open just enough to peek inside. heeseung was there, seated at the desk, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. he was reading, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips slightly parted as he focused on the page in front of him.

you hesitated, but before you could turn away, he looked up, catching sight of you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. then, without breaking eye contact, heeseung set the book aside.

“couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low, intimate in the quiet of the room.

you shook your head, stepping into the room. “no. you?”

heeseung’s gaze flicked over you, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your skin heat under his scrutiny. “i’ve been thinking,” he said, his tone soft but laced with that same dangerous tension that had been building all day.

“about what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you moved closer, drawn to him in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

heeseung’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. “about you,” he said quietly. “about us.”

the weight of his words settled in the space between you, thick and intoxicating. about you. about us. it echoed in your mind, stirring something deep within you that you had tried to ignore for far too long. you weren’t sure if it was the late hour, the dim candlelight, or the fact that you had been dancing around each other for weeks now, but something inside you snapped.

your breath hitched as you looked at him, his eyes dark and full of something you couldn’t quite name. but it was there—undeniable, pulsing in the space between you. and now that it had been spoken into existence, you couldn’t unsee it.

“what about us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. it wasn’t just curiosity anymore. it was a challenge.

heeseung’s gaze flicked to your lips, and the tension in the room intensified, coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like the air itself might shatter from the pressure. he stood slowly, his movements deliberate, and took a step toward you, closing the already-small distance between you.

“there’s always been something between us,” he said, his voice low, rough. his eyes never left yours, burning with intensity. “even when we hated each other.”

your heart was pounding now, so loud you were sure he could hear it. you wanted to deny it, to tell him that he was wrong, that it had always been pure hatred. but that would’ve been a lie. you knew it as well as he did—whatever had always been there between you, it had never been simple.

“and what is it now?” you asked, forcing yourself to meet his gaze even though every instinct told you to look away. to run.

heeseung took another step closer, his hand reaching up slowly, as though giving you the chance to pull away. but you didn’t. you couldn’t. his fingers brushed against your cheek, the touch so light it sent a shiver down your spine. his hand lingered there, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

“maybe we’ve been fighting the wrong battle,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender. the warmth of his breath ghosted over your skin, and you felt your pulse quicken.

your throat tightened. every word he said felt like a dangerous line, one that you were teetering on the edge of crossing. the tension between you had always been a fire—burning too hot, too fast. and now, it felt like it was about to consume you both.

heeseung’s thumb brushed over your bottom lip, and your breath caught in your throat. his touch was tentative, as though he wasn’t quite sure if this was real or if you would pull away at any moment.

but you didn’t.

instead, you took a step closer, closing the gap completely. the air between you was charged, thick with unspoken desire and the weight of all the years you had spent fighting against each other. your body was betraying you, leaning into him, drawn by a force you had denied for too long.

heeseung’s eyes darkened as he leaned in, his lips barely an inch from yours, the heat between you almost unbearable now. you could feel the tension in every muscle, the way his hand trembled slightly as it cupped your cheek, the way your own body was responding without your permission.

then, in a breathless moment that felt like it stretched on forever, he closed the distance.

his lips pressed against yours—soft at first, testing, as though he wasn’t sure you would let him. but the moment your lips met his, something ignited between you. the kiss deepened, filled with all the pent-up frustration and longing that had been building for so long. it was a clash of emotions—anger, desire, need—all colliding in that single moment.

you responded instantly, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more. the kiss was rough, almost desperate, as though you were both trying to make up for years of missed chances in that single moment.

his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you gasped against his lips at the feeling of his body pressed so close to yours. the intensity of it was overwhelming, but you didn’t want it to stop. you didn’t want to think. you just wanted to feel.

but then, as quickly as it started, heeseung pulled back, his breathing ragged, his forehead resting against yours. his hands still gripped your waist, holding you in place as though he couldn’t quite let go yet.

“this isn’t... what i expected,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. his breath was warm against your skin, and his eyes searched yours, as though he was looking for an answer in your gaze.

you swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. “what did you expect?” you asked softly, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

heeseung’s grip on your waist tightened for a moment, his eyes darkening once again. “i didn’t expect you to feel this way.” his voice was low, almost a growl, filled with the same intensity that had been building between you all night.

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. you had no idea what to say, no idea how to explain the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside you. all you knew was that everything had changed in that kiss.

“i don’t know what i feel,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible in the heavy silence of the room.

heeseung’s lips twitched into a small, almost sad smile. “neither do i.” he stepped back, finally breaking the physical contact between you, and you immediately missed the warmth of his body against yours.

“but whatever this is... it’s dangerous,” he continued, his eyes locked on yours, as though warning you. “we’ve always been enemies. we don’t know how to be anything else.”

you felt a lump form in your throat at his words, because deep down, you knew he was right. but that didn’t stop the ache in your chest, the desire for something more—for the possibility of what could be.

“i don’t want to be your enemy anymore,” you said softly, the confession surprising even you.

heeseung’s eyes widened slightly at your words, his expression unreadable. for a moment, you thought he might say something—might admit that he didn’t want to be your enemy either. but then, he shook his head, the walls between you coming back up, brick by brick.

“this doesn’t change anything,” he said quietly, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

and with that, he turned and left the room, leaving you standing there in the soft glow of candlelight, your heart pounding and your mind reeling from the kiss that had shifted the entire balance between you.

as the door closed softly behind him, you exhaled a shaky breath, your fingers brushing your lips where his had been moments before.

everything had changed.

the royal court was buzzing with tension, and for once, the tension wasn’t between you and heeseung. the kingdom was on edge, not from war or rebellion, but from something far more insidious—political manoeuvring. rival noble houses were plotting against heeseung’s rule, questioning his right to ascend to the throne, especially after the sudden marriage to you. the whispers had grown louder over the past few weeks, the courtiers’ gazes sharper, waiting for the first misstep.

you had known court life would be full of power plays and alliances, but this was different. it was personal. every snide comment, every hushed conversation behind closed doors, felt like an attack on your marriage, on your family’s legacy. and worst of all, it felt like an attack on you.

one afternoon, as you made your way through the palace corridors, you overheard a group of nobles—close to your family—voicing their displeasure over your sudden marriage to heeseung. it was the same old song—how your sister should have been the bride, how you were never meant for this role, how heeseung marrying you was a strategic disaster.

you felt your blood run cold, but you kept walking, your head held high. you had grown used to these remarks, but today, they stung deeper. not because they questioned your worth, but because they reflected the deep-seated insecurity you had always carried.

that night, you found yourself alone in the study, staring out the window at the darkening sky. the weight of the court’s judgement, the impossible standards, the constant comparisons to your sister—they were suffocating. and then there was heeseung, whose coldness had thawed just enough to show you glimpses of something deeper, something real. but he was still heeseung—your husband, your childhood rival, and now the man who held your future in his hands.

the door creaked open behind you, and you didn’t need to turn to know it was him. you had grown attuned to his presence, the way the air shifted whenever he entered a room.

“what’s wrong?” his voice was quieter than usual, but still carrying that edge of command. he always knew when something was off, as if he could sense the turmoil swirling inside you.

you didn’t answer immediately, your gaze fixed on the stars outside. “they’re saying we’re not suited for each other,” you murmured, finally turning to face him. “that i’m not fit to be queen. that you made a mistake.”

heeseung’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in that familiar way, but this time, it wasn’t directed at you.

“let them talk,” he said flatly. “they’re just waiting for us to fail.”

“and what if they’re right?” the words slipped out before you could stop them, the fear and doubt bubbling to the surface. “i was never meant to marry you. this isn’t the life i was prepared for.”

heeseung stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. then, to your surprise, he closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“i didn’t choose you because you were an easy choice,” he said, his voice low but intense. “i chose you because you’re stronger than you realise.”

you blinked, taken aback by the conviction in his words. heeseung wasn’t one to offer praise lightly, and hearing it now, in this moment, felt more intimate than anything he had ever said to you before.

“there are plenty of people who want to see us fail,” he continued, his grip tightening slightly. “but they don’t matter. what matters is that we don’t give them the satisfaction. we fight together.”

the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you saw beyond the cold exterior he had always shown you. there was something deeper there, something raw and unspoken. a partnership.

but the closeness also brought something else—a heat that had always been there between you, simmering beneath the surface. his hands lingered on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing the bare skin just above your collarbone, and suddenly the room felt smaller, the air thicker.

“you think i’m strong?” you asked, your voice quieter now, tinged with something more vulnerable. something real.

heeseung’s gaze flicked down to your lips, just for a moment, before returning to your eyes. his voice was rough when he spoke, low and filled with an unspoken promise. “i’ve always known.”

the charged air between you was impossible to ignore now. his fingers slid from your shoulders to your arms, the touch sending a jolt of warmth through you. it wasn’t just the weight of responsibility pressing down on you—it was him, his closeness, the undeniable pull you had both been dancing around for weeks.

you could feel the tension in every inch of your body, your heart racing as heeseung’s hands rested on your waist, pulling you closer, but still leaving just enough space for doubt. he hesitated, as if waiting for you to push him away, to remind him of the enmity that had defined your relationship for so long.

but you didn’t. instead, you leaned into him, your hands tentatively reaching up to rest on his chest. the fabric of his shirt was soft under your fingers, but beneath it, you could feel the steady beat of his heart, as rapid as your own.

“maybe i’ve been wrong about you,” you whispered, your breath hitching as the tension between you reached a breaking point.

heeseung’s eyes darkened at your words, his lips hovering just inches from yours. “maybe you have,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. but there was something softer there too, something almost tender.

before you could talk yourself out of it, you closed the distance between you and kissed him.

the kiss was like nothing you had ever experienced—fierce, desperate, and full of the years of unresolved tension between you. it was as if all the walls you had built around yourselves were crumbling in an instant, leaving nothing but the raw, undeniable attraction that had always simmered beneath the surface.

heeseung responded instantly, his hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

it was overwhelming, the intensity of the moment, the way your bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, the way every touch sent a shockwave of desire coursing through you. you had spent so long fighting him, fighting this, and now, as his hands slid up your back, holding you close, you wondered why you had ever resisted.

when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. heeseung’s grip on your waist didn’t loosen, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat as wild as your own.

“we can’t keep pretending,” you whispered, your voice shaky, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

heeseung’s eyes met yours, the vulnerability and uncertainty in his gaze mirroring your own. “no, we can’t,” he agreed, his voice rough with emotion.

for a moment, the world hung in the balance. you had crossed a line, and there was no going back. everything between you had shifted, and the question now wasn’t whether you would move forward—it was how.

heeseung’s thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his touch so tender it nearly broke you. “we’re in this together,” he said softly, the weight of his words heavy with meaning.

this time, there was no need to say anything more. you both understood what had changed between you, even if neither of you was ready to fully admit it. and though the path ahead was uncertain, you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t facing it alone anymore.

weeks passed, and with each passing day, things between you and heeseung slowly shifted. the cold, sharp walls that had once kept you apart were crumbling, revealing a warmth and understanding that neither of you had anticipated. where there had once been biting words and icy glares, there was now laughter, quiet conversations, and small gestures of affection.

the palace felt different. it was lighter now, with the growing sense of partnership between you and heeseung. your bickering had been replaced with genuine care, and though the wounds of the past hadn't fully healed, you were both learning to forgive. but it wasn’t just the emotional connection that was shifting—there was something deeper brewing beneath the surface. unspoken feelings, simmering tension.

it wasn’t until a grand banquet in honour of a visiting prince from a neighbouring kingdom that these feelings came to a head. you stood at the centre of the ballroom, dressed in a gown that glimmered under the candlelight. it hugged your figure perfectly, catching the attention of more than just heeseung. the prince—prince seojun—had been particularly charming throughout the evening, his eyes lingering on you a little too long, his compliments a little too bold.

“you are by far the most captivating presence in this room, your highness,” seojun murmured, his voice low as he leaned in slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “if i had known such beauty awaited me here, i would have visited sooner.”

you laughed politely, glancing over your shoulder, searching for heeseung in the crowd. he was across the room, deep in conversation with some nobles, but even from the distance, you could feel his gaze on you, sharp and intense.

seojun continued, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he leaned closer. “perhaps we could steal a moment away from the crowd? i would love to know more about the woman behind such an enchanting smile.”

before you could respond, a sudden shift in the air caught your attention. heeseung appeared at your side, his posture tense, his expression a mix of barely contained irritation and something else—something more possessive.

“princess,” heeseung’s voice was smooth, but there was a dangerous edge to it. his hand slid around your waist, pulling you firmly against his side. the claim was unmistakable. “i believe your dance card is full for the evening.”

seojun’s smirk faltered slightly as he glanced between the two of you, sensing the tension. heeseung’s eyes never left the prince, cold and unyielding.

“of course,” seojun replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. “i wouldn’t dream of overstepping. after all,” his gaze flickered to you, then back to heeseung, “she’s your wife.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, charged with unspoken meaning. seojun bowed slightly, a smirk still playing on his lips, before taking his leave. but even as he walked away, you could feel the lingering weight of his gaze.

you turned to heeseung, about to make a light-hearted remark about the interaction, but the look on his face stopped you. his eyes were dark, his jaw clenched, and his grip on your waist was firm—almost possessive.

“did he touch you?” heeseung asked, his voice low and tight.

you raised an eyebrow, surprised by his tone. “barely,” you replied, trying to play it off with a soft laugh. “why? are you jealous?”

his eyes flickered with something dangerous as he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “you’re my wife. i don’t like other men thinking they can take what’s mine.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words. the possessiveness in his tone, the way his body pressed protectively against yours—it was unlike anything you had ever experienced with heeseung. you had always seen him as cold, distant, but this... this was different. there was fire in his eyes, and you could feel it burning between you, a tension that neither of you had acknowledged until now.

“and what if i enjoy a little attention now and then?” you teased, testing the boundaries, wanting to see how far he would go.

heeseung’s eyes darkened even more, and in one swift motion, he pulled you even closer, his hand cupping the back of your neck as he leaned in, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. “i don’t care how many men look at you, but remember this—” his voice dropped, sending shivers down your spine, “you belong to me and i belong to you.”

a thrill ran through you at his words, and for a moment, you were speechless, your mind spinning from the intensity of his claim. the ballroom, the crowd, even prince seojun—all of it faded away as heeseung’s gaze held you captive. you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the possessiveness in his touch, and for the first time, you realised that this wasn’t just some marriage of convenience anymore.

heeseung cared—more than he was willing to admit.

your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to read the emotions flickering behind them. “and what about you, heeseung?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “do you want me to be yours?”

his eyes softened for just a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before he leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. “you already are,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “and i’m not letting you forget it.”

the banquet had left the air between you and heeseung charged with an intensity that neither of you could ignore. his possessiveness, the fierce look in his eyes when he claimed you as his wife in front of prince seojun, had stirred something inside you—something that had been simmering for far too long.

as the last of the guests departed and the palace quieted down for the night, the tension remained, lingering like an unspoken promise. heeseung walked beside you in silence as you both made your way through the dimly lit corridors toward your chambers. though no words passed between you, the air was thick with anticipation, the unspoken pull between you stronger than ever.

when you reached your shared chambers, heeseung opened the door for you, his gaze never leaving you as you stepped inside. you could feel his eyes on you, burning with a need that matched your own. the soft glow of the candlelight cast long shadows across the room, but all you could focus on was the man standing behind you, his presence overwhelming.

you moved toward the vanity, fingers trembling slightly as you began to remove your jewellery. you were acutely aware of heeseung standing behind you, the weight of his gaze almost tangible as he watched your every movement. his silence spoke volumes, filled with desire and unspoken emotions that neither of you had fully confronted until now.

the tension was unbearable. finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, you glanced at him through the reflection in the mirror, your voice soft but steady. “you’ve been quiet,” you murmured, meeting his intense gaze. “what’s on your mind?”

he didn’t answer immediately. instead, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush against the bare skin of your shoulder. the touch was light, tentative, but it sent a shiver down your spine. his fingers lingered, tracing the delicate curve of your shoulder before he leaned in, his breath warm against your neck.

“i didn’t like how he looked at you,” heeseung finally admitted, his voice low and rough with suppressed emotion. his eyes met yours in the mirror, dark with jealousy and something more—something deeper. “or the way he made you laugh.”

your heart raced at the possessiveness in his tone. you turned to face him, taking in the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes blazed with something primal. his emotions were raw, laid bare before you in a way that heeseung had never allowed himself to show before.

“it was harmless,” you replied, stepping closer to him, your voice softening. “but i can’t say i minded the way you stepped in.”

his gaze darkened, his hand moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. you could feel the heat of his body seeping into yours, the hard lines of his frame pressing against your softness. his eyes locked onto yours, filled with unspoken desire, but also with something more—something tender.

“i’m not the kind of man who likes to share,” he said, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. “especially not when it comes to you.”

your breath hitched at his words, your pulse quickening as the fire between you flared even hotter. you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you at his possessive tone, the way his hands gripped you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“and what are you going to do about it?” you whispered, your voice daring, testing the boundaries as your lips brushed his, teasingly close but not quite touching.

heeseung’s response was immediate. his lips crashed against yours, fierce and hungry, as if he had been holding back for far too long. the kiss was searing, filled with all the emotions you had both kept hidden. his hands roamed over your body, possessive yet tender, as though he was staking his claim but also worshipping every inch of you.

you responded just as fiercely, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel every part of him against you. the tension between you, the unspoken desire, it all poured out in that kiss, in the way his body pressed against yours with a need that matched your own.

heeseung’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you toward the bed. the air between you was electric, charged with desire and the intensity of emotions that neither of you had allowed to surface until now. he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze dark and filled with a hunger that made your heart race.

for a moment, he paused, his fingers brushing over your cheek with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of what had just passed between you. his eyes softened, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability behind them—the raw emotion that he had been hiding behind his cold exterior for so long.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky but laced with care, as if he was giving you one last chance to pull away, to stop this before it went too far.

you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with the overwhelming emotions coursing through you. heeseung, the man you had once considered your rival, your enemy, was now looking at you with a tenderness that took your breath away. you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumb brushing softly over his cheek.

“i’m sure,” you whispered, pulling him down into another kiss, softer this time, but no less filled with the emotions swirling between you.

what followed was slow, deliberate, and filled with a tenderness that you had never expected from heeseung. his hands moved over your body with care, as though he was savouring every touch, every breath. the fierceness from earlier softened into something more intimate, more meaningful, as he explored you with reverence, his lips following the path of his hands.

your name fell from his lips like a prayer, whispered against your skin in the quiet moments between kisses. heeseung’s touch was both possessive and gentle, as though he was claiming you but also offering himself to you in return. the intensity of the moment was overwhelming, but it was the tenderness in his gaze, the softness of his touch, that made your heart ache with something deeper than mere desire.

and as the night stretched on, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, you realised that this wasn’t just about passion—it was about the connection you had been fighting against for so long. the rivalry, the bickering, the walls you had both built between you—it all crumbled away, leaving only the raw truth of what you felt for one another.

when it was over, you lay beside each other, your breathing heavy, your bodies tangled in the sheets. the room was quiet now, the only sound was the soft rustle of the fabric and the faint crackle of the dying fire in the hearth.

heeseung turned to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. his eyes, once so cold and guarded, were warm now, filled with an emotion that made your heart skip a beat. he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. it was comforting, grounding you in the quiet aftermath of everything that had just passed between you. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, soothing and gentle, as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

neither of you spoke, but words weren’t necessary. the silence was filled with a sense of peace, of contentment that neither of you had known before. heeseung’s touch was soft now, filled with care as he held you close, his body warm and protective against yours.

and in that quiet, intimate moment, you realised something: this was more than just passion, more than just desire. it was something real, something lasting.

heeseung’s hand continued to trace gentle patterns on your back, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered softly, “are you alright?”

you smiled against his chest, your heart swelling with warmth at the tenderness in his voice. “more than alright,” you murmured, snuggling closer to him.

heeseung let out a soft sigh, his arms tightening around you as if he never wanted to let go. and as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the weight of the past finally lifted, leaving only the warmth of the present and the promise of a future you were both ready to embrace.

the next morning, you woke to find heeseung already up, standing by the window of your shared chambers, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the early morning light. he looked deep in thought, his expression pensive as he gazed out over the kingdom.

quietly, you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he stiffened for a moment at the contact but quickly relaxed, his hands covering yours as he let out a soft sigh.

“you’re up early,” you murmured, resting your cheek against his back.

“i couldn’t sleep,” he replied, his voice thoughtful. “i was thinking about everything that’s changed.”

you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “a lot has changed, hasn’t it?”

heeseung turned in your arms, his expression soft as he looked down at you. “i never thought this would work,” he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “but i’m glad i was wrong.”

you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with warmth. the man standing before you was the same heeseung you had known all your life, but now, you saw him for who he truly was—not your enemy, not your rival, but your partner. your husband.

“i’m glad too,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips.

and in that moment, you knew that this was your new beginning. the past, with all its bitterness and tension, was behind you. what lay ahead was a future you hadn’t expected but one you were ready to embrace—together.

as heeseung pulled you into a gentle kiss, the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the window, you knew that this was the start of something beautiful. your marriage, once forged out of obligation and resentment, had grown into something real, something lasting.

and as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realised that sometimes, the best love stories were the ones you never saw coming.

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @punchbug9-blog @firstclassjaylee @capri-cuntz @addictedtohobi @jaysfavoritegirl

#౨ৎ 𝓐dy writes🪄#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fics #enhypen x reader #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung fics #heeseung oneshots #kpop fics #enhypen royal au

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5sospenguinqueen · 1 month ago

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Forgetful Flirtation - Toto Wolff x Wife! Reader

Summary: A heavy celebration leads to a husband forgetting his wife. And a team who won't let him forget it.

Warnings: Fluff. Swearing. Slight age gap.

Requested: Yes by anon.

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

mercedesamgf1 just posted

liked by kimi.antonelli, valterribottas and others

mercedesamgf1 LEWIS HAMILTON WINS THE BRITISH GRAND PRIX 🇬🇧

13,331 comments

totowolff you did us proud. you deserved this, lewis. enjoy

landonorris congrats mate

yn_wolff oh, lewis, what an amazing drive. well deserved. i’m so happy for you

→ mercedesamgf1 we can confirm that she cried

→ lewishamilton 🫶🏾

pierregasly congrats champ!

roscoelovescoco well’s done’s dad’s

→ yn_wolff it was the luck of roscoe in the garage. maybe we should have him every weekend

→ mercedesamgf1 we agree

georgerussell63 you deserve it, mate 🍾 i’ll buy you a round later

→ user1 are they going out together later?

→ user2 wouldn’t surprise me if the whole team celebrated this win

yn_wolff just posted

liked by iamrebeccad, carmenmmundt and others

yn_wolff team dinner to celebrate hubby’s, and especially lewis’, success

3,644 comments

totowolff meine schöne frau

→ yn_wolff i love you

francisca.cgomes oh okay so we’re dressing hot tonight?

→ yn_wolff i know you’re complimenting me but don’t make it sound like we didn’t compare outfits for tonight. you even know what kind of underwear i’m wearing!

→ francisca.cgomes i enjoyed those pictures

→ pierregasly pardon?

→ user3 yn is such a girl’s girl

user4 that hand placement though 🤤

→ user5 she’s really not good for toto’s reputation

→ user6 she’s making it look like he’s groping her

→ user7 can you blame him? look at her. she’s hot liked by yn_wolff

user8 um, anyone else find it really unprofessional that she’s publicly admitting to sending images of her underwear to people?

→ francisca.cgomes one person, and i’m her friend?

→ user8 it just reflects badly on her husband who has an image to maintain

→ totowolff no, it doesn’t. she is her own person

user9 unlike you crying bitches, i love that toto is married to someone slightly younger so that we get this content

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Weaving through the throng of bodies, you scowled as you dodged another couple gyrating against each other near the entrance to the VIP section. Your glass was empty and your shoes kept sticking to the floor, tacky from a cocktail of spilled drinks. Scanning the crowd, you scowled as you made your way over to the bar. How was it possible to lose a 6’5 billionaire in a crowd of shorter drivers?

Gesturing wildly to a crowd of people, the man of the day caught your eye and you hurried over to him.

“Lewis, have you seen Toto anywhere? I can’t find him.” You nibbled anxiously at your bottom lip.

“Last I saw, he was with Bono asking the DJ to play 80s music,” laughed Lewis, recalling the image of his team principal and engineer swaying together, a feather boa draped across the pair of them.

You thanked him before turning and continuing on your crusade. All around you, familiar faces were wrapped around their partner’s (or women they had just met), dancing to the music or whispering in their ears. Alcohol had been flowing freely for the past three hours and the majority of the people in the club were more than inebriated. The hours had passed and you were ready for a warm shower and for your husband to tuck you into bed. Yet, he had decided to elude you.

Toto’s dress shirt hung loosely off your frame, having been draped around you earlier whilst you stood outside for some fresh air. You had simply rubbed a hand down your arm, trying to dispel the goosebumps that appeared, and there he was, bundling you up. That had been an hour ago and you hadn’t seen him since. Inhaling deeply, his scent surrounded you. The only comfort you had as you began to wonder whether he’d left you here in his drunken state.

Lando was up on the platform flapping his arms in a dramatic manner and messing around with the decks, directing you to where you thought you’d spotted a tall figure shrouded in the shadows.

“Yn!” Bono greeted, beaming at you through the pink feathers enveloping his face.

“Having a good night, Bono?” You asked, smiling at the sight of him. “Toto, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Well, hello there,” your husband drawled, peering down at you with a heated gaze. “Come here often?”

“What?” You laughed, leaning closer to hear him over the music. Surely you had misheard.

“I would’ve remembered seeing a woman as beautiful as you before.”

Beside you, Bono was shaking with silent laughter, gesturing wildly at someone in the distance. Probably summoning more people to bear witness to the peculiarity happening before you. Sidling up to him, you wrapped a hand around his bicep under the guise of stabilising yourself. You felt the muscle under your hand flex.

“Careful, Mr Wolff. If you keep being nice to me, I might have to take you home.”

His arms wrapped around your lower back, pulling you close against him. A heart stopping smile filled his face. “I don’t think I’d object to that. I would, however, like your name first.”

“Is he being serious?” Somebody whispered behind you, earning a wave of raucous laughter from the Mercedes team that had gathered.

“You smell nice.” Toto continued, nose nuzzling into the ticklish spot under your ear. You arched against his touch. He may not remember your marriage certificate but he clearly knew where best to tease you.

Running your fingers down his arm, you grabbed his left hand, tracing circles across the back of it. His wedding ring - part of a matching set - glistened in the strobe lighting. Fiddling with his fingers, you raised your hand up to your face, pulling it into his periphery. You twisted the band around his finger, letting it catch the light and his eye.

“I’m sorry but I don’t date married men.”

You dropped your husband’s hand, sliding out from his hold. Turning away from him, you snaked through the crowd and away from him. Dazed, Toto looked at his left hand in bewilderment. He slid the band off his finger, looking at the date engraved inside. Opposite him, his team continued to cackle at his misfortune. He was in so much trouble tomorrow.

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_wolff added to her story

liked by mercedesamgf1, francisca.cgomes and others

georgerussell63 replied to slide 2 at least he remembers you there → yn_wolff you keep teasing him about that and you might seriously find yourself without a seat next season → georgerussell63 don’t say that. i know you’d protect me → yn_wolff don’t push your luck → i’ll see you for dinner on thursday though? → georgerussell63 wouldn’t miss it

francisca.cgomes replied to slide 3 how are you awake enough to do all that? → i feel like i’ve died. pierre keeps bringing me cups of tea but i can’t even lift my head to drink them → yn_wolff tbf, kiks, you drank far more than i did 😂 → plus toto has been doing everything for me despite looking like death himself → i think he feels bad for forgetting i was his wife → francisca.cgomes at least you know even drunk you’re the only woman he wants?

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mercedesamgf1 just posted

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and others

mercedesamgf1 the silver arrows know how to party

4,463 comments

georgerussell63 yeah and our team principal knows how to forget his wife

→ totowolff george, would you like to stay with mercedes next season?

→ yn_wolff don’t threaten your drivers online, dear

→ georgerussell63 i’m only speaking the truth

→ user10 george, you don’t look like you were in any state to remember things either

yn_wolff can somebody blow that photo up and print it off for me. i think i need it in my bedroom

→ user11 you get to go home with the real thing, leave the photo for us

→ yn_wolff i almost didn’t

→ totowolff not you as well, liebling

→ user12 what does this mean?

lewishamilton hell of a party

pierregasly maybe don’t let your team principal join next time

alex_albon happy wife happy life probably isn’t working for toto right now

maxverstappen1 i think we should get toto drunk before race weekends, maybe he’ll forget his strategies

→ user13 what does this mean? let us innnnn

totowolff i’ll be speaking to all your team principals tomorrow about your behaviour

→ charles_leclerc yes, dad

→ landonorris oh, no. now we’ve done it

→ georgerussell63 who do you talk to about mine?

yn_wolff you forgot your wife, mein herz, i don’t think your scary boss act is going to work today

→ user14 he did what?!

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

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covetyou · 1 month ago

Text

you all the way down

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: vaguely dub-con (power imbalance, reader was paying a debt), masturbation, oral sex (f and m receiving), face sitting, spanking, cum swallowing, no use of y/n. word count: 4.3k summary: You have a rare moment of privacy, a chance to luxuriate in bringing yourself closer and closer to a peak you've been teasing yourself with for hours.... Until a knock at your door snatches it all away.

A/N: I hit a follower milestone this week - thank you all so much for your follows, comments, reblogs, friendship, sneaky trips into my DMs and asks, and for loving the same silly, absurd, and horny things I do.

see you next week 💛

title from I, Carrion (Icarian) by hozier.

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You didn't often do it like this. You didn't often have the time. Or the privacy.

It was a rare luxury to have the apartment to yourself, and so, for the best part of an hour - maybe more - you'd been slowly and steadily teasing yourself. With no plans and no work, you could take your time, turn the slow drag of your hands all over your body into steady smooth movements that dipped between your legs. Fingers that pinched nipples, scratched at your belly, dragged themselves over your thighs found themselves nestled between your legs dipping down and teasing. Down, and up, and around, and back down again. Sweeping through wet folds and swiping over your clit in gloriously slow strokes. You were making your own skin prickle, your own breath catch in your throat, and it was divine.

How long you teased yourself and made yourself smile and sigh in the confines of your own room, you didn't know exactly. It didn't matter. Your dad was at work and you weren't. You were here, alone, finally pushing one slicked up finger inside yourself and making yourself gasp.

Fuck, did you deserve this. You deserved the soft and the slow way you teased yourself, brought yourself close to the edge and then eased off. You deserved the way you made yourself moan, catching yourself with a laugh when you heard yourself through the blood in your ears.

You deserved to come, right here, nestled in all your soft things, thinking glorious thoughts about hands and bodies surrounding yours, overwhelming you until you came, shuddering, in their grasp.

You deserved to come begging and urging yourself on to the emptiness of your room, your own filthy mouth finding flight and soaring, working with the fingers in your cunt and on your clit to bring yourself to an edge you'd let yourself teeter on, almost making yourself cry as you held back, held off, and kept that fierce explosion at bay.

Until a knock at your door snatched it all away.

Your body registers it before your brain does. The fuse you'd ignited sputters out, your fingers still working over your clit that has suddenly gone shy and numb and unfeeling, making you twitch uncomfortably. Then, your door rattles with a heavy handed knock again, and you sit up with a start.

Fuck this asshole.

Tumbling from tangled sheets, you frantically reach for something to cover you. As you hop through your apartment, one leg in your pants, the other out, another knock hammers at the door.

"Okay! I'm coming!" Only you weren't, because that was ruined now, thanks to this heavy handed asshole and their impeccable timing.

Wiping damp fingers on your pants, you huff out a frustrated breath and try to pin a fake smile onto your face before opening the door. It swings inward, just as the start of another impatient knock begins, and in with it comes a man you should be surprised to see.

Joel Miller breezes past you - barely having to push his way in as you stare at him in stunned silence - to stand in your living room, looking curiously around at the small space.

"Nice place," he says, with a look on his face that says differently. You know it's far from a nice place. There wasn't a single apartment in this building that was a nice place. If this were normal times, the whole block would have been condemned years ago, but here you were, stuck at the end of the world in a shitty apartment that was the only place you had to call home.

As you close the door, you take a quick glance down at what you'd thrown on. The pajama pants have seen better days - everything had seen better days - and the shirt you'd grabbed has more holes in the seams than you care to even check for. It was in your pile of things to fix that you hadn't quite got around to yet and now here it was, hanging off your body like you were wearing lace, not flannel.

"What're you here for?" you ask, trying to hide the holes in your with a not-so-subtle movement of your arms.

"Like to check in on my clients from time to time," he says, finally looking you over and noticing your arms tucked tightly over your chest. "Am I disturbin' somethin'?"

Yes. "No."

"You ain't workin'?"

No shit. "Day off."

"Alright," he says, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "What's got your panties in a bunch?"

You aren't wearing any panties. "Nothing."

He's crossing the small space to stand right in front of you, and you know from the second his nostrils flair that he knows. He probably knew from the moment he came in, probably somehow even from the other side of the door. You weren't exactly being quiet, or discreet, and if there's one thing you knew it was that Joel Miller knew you just about better than anybody else.

"Bullshit, sweetheart."

If you weren't already so turned on at your own hand, you know you'd be rapidly getting wetter. Just the smell of him in your home is sending your mind, and your pussy, into overdrive. He's never stepped foot in here before, and you know you shouldn't like it. A man like Joel, a man who has clients to come check on, isn't someone you should be happy to have snooping about in your apartment and your business.

But one look at that cocky smirk on his face, and you know you'd be very happy to have him snooping around your business. In fact, by the way your pussy pulses at the sight of him, you think you'd be happy to have him very deep in your business right here pressed up against your front door.

Instead, in a last ditch effort to retain your dignity, you push the frustration back into your voice and step around him, throwing your hands into the air.

"You just come here, pound at the door, and then bust right in here the second I open it! I was - I'm busy, Joel."

"Busy?" Joel scoffs. You can see the thought as it comes to him, sly smile twitching the corners of his mouth as he fakes disinterest. "Then go right on ahead and get back to what you were doin', don't mind me."

You stare him down, heart pounding in your throat. The distance between you is still small. You could be on him in an instant. You think you could use the element of surprise and tackle him to the ground. His coat would come off easy enough, but beneath that who knows what he's wearing. Probably layers. Fucking Boston. Still, you didn't exactly need all of them off, you only needed access to one thing, and when your eyes flick down to the bulge in his jeans you resolutely set your shoulders and turn around.

"Fine."

A button falls from loose threads as your hands fly down the front of your shirt. In no time at all you're flinging it over your shoulder, hitting Joel square in the face where he stands in your bedroom doorway, watching.

He catches it in one hand, fingering one of the holes. "This what you call, busy?"

The pajama pants you'd tied about your waist drop to your feet and in no time at all you're naked again, climbing onto your bed, the pillows and sheets you were nested in welcoming you back in - still warm. "Like you didn't know, asshole."

"I ain't got a sixth fuckin' sense, sweetheart."

You glare at him from across the room and he shrugs, leaning casually on the doorframe as he watches you lie back. If you didn't know better, you'd think he didn't know where to look. One moment he's looking at the scowl on your face, and the next he's looking down at your breasts, the curve of your ass, taking a peek between your legs as you shuffle down your bed. It's all going so fast, you think for once you may just have the upperhand. Joel Miller, you think, is flustered.

He watches you as you stroke down your body, quicker than the slow, teasing pace you'd set with yourself earlier. Your thighs fall open as your hands reach your hips, and your fingers reach down to spread yourself as he watches on.

"This what you were doin'?"

"Yes, now can you shut up."

You shut your eyes and get back to where you left off. You're still wet and slick, your fingers slipping easily back into the grip of your pussy. If you just try to block him out, standing in the doorway staring between your spread legs, you can get right back where you left off. You can find that edge again, even through the oversensitivity. You know you can, and this time, you're going to throw yourself screaming over it.

Curling your fingers, you reach down and twist your torso until you can reach that delicious spot you found earlier. Then, your other hand begins working back over your clit, spit slicked and swiping eagerly over the sensitive nub. Picking up the pace, you try to ignore the twitches in your legs and the way your thighs already want to clamp shut on your own hands.

You ignore it, that is, until Joel chimes in from the doorway.

"You're gonna rub the fuckin' thing clean off if you keep goin' at it like that."

Hitting the bed in frustration, you growl and sit up again, staring wild eyed at him. "If you're such a fucking expert, then why don't you get over here and help me. I am naked, Joel, and my cunt is right here."

Your mouth snaps shut the moment you gesture down to your spread legs. You snap them shut too. By the way he's silently peeling off his coat, you're certain you've fucked up, though you can't say you're too mad about it. With any luck, he'll fuck you to within an inch of your life in a way so satisfying your ruined orgasm will be all but forgotten.

With his coat discarded, he pulls off a sweater and unbuttons his shirt - flannel and significantly less holey than the one you've just thrown at him. Then, he grabs a pillow you'd discarded earlier and sits at the edge of your bed.

"C'mere," he beckons as he lays back, folding the pillow and shoving it behind his head.

You don't move. You're frozen in place as he shifts and gets himself comfortable. You don't know what this is, what he's planning, but you're certain it's something he's never done before. And it's going to happen right here, in your bedroom, the very place you'd spent night after night dreaming of the many wonderful ways he would fuck you.

"You want my help, or not?" he says in frustration, looking over to you where you're rooted in place. You nod stupidly, and follow the beckon of his fingers until you're kneeling by his side.

His rough hands find your thigh and push you until you're sat up on your knees. Then, he's dragging one of your legs over his clothed chest until you're straddling him, trying to keep the wet mess between your legs from soaking through his shirt.

"Up here," he says. "Want that pussy, and I ain't kneeling for it."

And suddenly it all clicks into place and you are mortified. For everything he'd done to you, for how much you knew he loved to look, you'd never once done something like this to him. You felt awkward even riding him, until his flithy words of encouragement and the drag of his cock inside you knocked every thought out of your brain.

Now, he was wanting you to sit on his face, somehow not suffocating him in the process. So, you laugh, shaking as you hold your weight above his chest.

"Look like I'm jokin' to you?" he says in a tone so stern and serious your eyes force their way down to where his face sits perilously close to the apex of your legs.

Which, of course, is a fucking mistake. He's licking his lips and looking up at you - all over every inch of you - eating you alive with his stare.

He pushes and pulls you then, dragging you up his chest until your knees are settled either side of his face. You can feel the gust of his breath against your thighs just before he hauls you forward a little more until his half face is completely covered by your cunt, only his eyes and the bridge of his nose visible now.

"Fuckin' christ. You're a mess down here. You been goin' at it for a while, huh?" he says, and you can feel every word blow against you even as you hover as far as you can above his face.

"Uh-huh," you say, a kiss sucked to your thigh striking stealing all thought from your mind.

"Get real close?" he says, with another kiss, hands kneading at your thighs and ass as they wrap around you and try to tug you closer.

You nod, hoping he can see you as your eyes slip closed with the feeling of him right here, between your legs, in your room.

"Hm. That's a damn shame, sweetheart. Bet you're achin' for it somethin' fierce right now, ain't you?" he asks from between your legs. You look down and you know in that moment the fucked look on your face says more than you ever could when he hums, spreading your thighs apart with his strong fingers.

"Better sit your ass down then," he mumbles into your thigh, pulling you down. "That's it, bring it here. Ain't strainin' my fuckin' neck for it, give it to me."

So you do. You settle down slowly onto his face, listening as he guides you down until you feel the first broad swipe of his tongue up through your folds.

"What'd I say," he says, swallowing the taste of you. "A fuckin' mess."

He kisses around your clit, nudging it with the curved tip of his nose when he finally licks up into you again. And then, he's pulling your flush to his face and feasting.

The noise that leaves you is stupid. Somewhere between a gasp and a moan and a question all at once. His nose is pressed against you, his laughter fanning out across your mound as you try not to squirm and wiggle against him, fearful of crushing his head beneath your weight, or at the very least suffocating him.

His face burrows deeper, his hands holding you firm, squeezing and scraping calloused fingertips against your delicate skin. The scruff on his cheeks feels rough against the places you were so soft with earlier, and you don't care in the slightest.

It works, you think.

Where the soft feel of your own hands felt too much - too familiar - to the parts of you that were now too sensitive to them, the rough, all consuming movements of Joel's mouth on your swollen pussy feels like a welcome relief as he laps at your hole, slick and dripping from your thwarted solo session.

His hands move from anchoring you to his face, locked around your thighs, to pressing against your ass, gripping the globes of them in each of his broad hands.

And then, as if it wasn't all so much already, he begins to stroke up and down your seam, pulling you apart, dipping into your dripping cunt and teasing over your exposed asshole as he laps and suckles away at your clit.

Still, as good as it all is, you can't let go. You can't get back to that place you'd climbed so close to. You feel exposed, sat upright with the frigid October air of your bedroom encasing you. Self-conscious too - all chins and bad angles and slouchy shoulders. And, most of all, you were terrified you were going to hurt him. One wrong twitch or snap shut of your legs and his air supply would be gone, or his neck snapped, and you'd have a dead man in your bed and -

A sharp slap connects with your ass cheek, Joel's strong hands pulling you upwards from his face, cheeks glistening and lips swollen red.

"Lean forward," he says, with a nip to your thigh.

As you go to move, walking forward on your knees, a hand grips your waist, and another slap hits your thigh, rippling your skin where it frames his face.

"Said lean, not fuckin' move off. You're gonna sit right here 'til you come, but you ain't comin' any time soon if you don't fuckin' lean and relax."

A strong hand pushes at your lower back then, making you hinge forward until your elbows collide with the bed. Your ass is in the air, legs spread just wide enough that your bare cunt is tantalizingly close to Joel's mouth, and now you get it. You shift on your knees, soothing the small ache that had built up, and look down at the brown-grey hair between your legs that's sucking hickies into your thighs.

"That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs as he marks you, delivering swift, gentle smacks to your ass as you groan, planting your cheek firmly against your bed.

You drag a blanket toward you, covering yourself a little and tucking your face into the softness of it. Joel's smacks turn to scrapes of his blunt nails over the backs of your thighs and then, when your brain finally switches off and you fall into that mindless, soft place that has you feeling heavy and floaty all at once, you press your hips forward and drag your bare pussy across Joel's waiting tongue.

Joel's groan of approval blends into your own wanton moans. What was a soft drag of his tongue on your clit quickly turns to the sensitive nub being sucked into his eager mouth, your hips winding and grinding now you can finally relax.

"Fingers. Please. Need your fingers."

It doesn't even sound like you. It's breathier and more pathetic than you think you've ever sounded, but you can't bring yourself to care when suddenly Joel is releasing your clit to slurp on two of his own fingers, before plunging them deep into your empty pussy.

"Yes, yes, yes, like that. Fuck. Joel."

Each orbit of his tongue on your clit sends a new throb directly through your core, clenching down on the digits curling into you, and you're right back to teetering on that edge. You figure you could let yourself fall over it now. It'd be more like collpasing over it in an exhausted heap, but you know it'd be a satisfaction you wouldn't otherwise have got today.

Or you could wait. You could hold yourself back and use his face to tease yourself, to bring yourself back from the brink once, twice, before you take the final running jump right over it.

Your hands have made up your mind for you when you card trembling fingers through his hair and pull him back, forcing his head down into the pillow he'd propped under it not long ago, and stopping your orgasm in its tracks.

One.

Then, when he's licking broad stripes up and down your glistening folds, something takes hold of you and you begin to fuck yourself against his fingers, swiping your pussy against the flat of his tongue as you rock gently back and forth. His tongue, then his nose, grind against your clit with each rock of your hips, and soon your shaking legs can't move yourself any more.

Two.

Whatever running jump you'd hoped for isn't in your hands now. It's not in your control from the moment Joel tucks a third finger into your pussy, so slick and dripping you're certain you'd have no issue taking more if he decided to give them to you. Instead, you're being carried by him, limp and panting in his arms as he throws you mercilessly over the edge, and you let him.

You come with a cry, fists balling in sheets. Your hips rock and cant against his face, twitching uncontrollably as you pulse and gush around his fingers. His tongue is relentless on your clit, circling over and over until you're begging a jumbled garble of words, too weak to lift yourself off of him.

Then, in a last ditch effort, you throw yourself forward, still coming as you finally release yourself off of his face.

It takes your brain a second to reconnect with your body. Even after the aftershocks have subsided, you're still panting and groaning. Or he is. Maybe both of you are.

Both of you are.

Still quivering, you turn to him. His eyes catch yours before you can take in the state of him. They're darker than you've ever seen them, his blown pupils turning his irises almost black. Then, you see the glistening wet on his chin, his plush lips turned plumper, red and swollen from kissing and sucking at you. And, even lower still, you see the movement of his arm, his bicep rocking in a steady movement, his forearm flexing with each jerk of his fist, his cock weeping in his hand.

"Get down here," he growls.

You scramble to turn, limbs clumsy, and flop down against his side, knees tucked awkwardly under you. His free hand grips your ass, kneading and spreading you so he can look at the mess he made of you, while he guides his cock to your mouth with the other.

"C'mon now, ain't gonna take much. That's it. Fuck."

He groans when you swallow him down, almost gagging when you take him too deep too quickly. Your fist curls around the base of him, taking up the space you can't quite reach, and you bob your head, swirling your tongue, unable to keep your moans quiet as you taste him.

No sooner have you started, and he's twitching beneath you, the muscles in his groin flexing to hold back, to hold on.

"Want you to swallow it all," he pants. "Don't want - fuck - you to miss a single drop."

His fingers push back into your tender hole then - the inviting warmth of it obviously too much to resist when it's swaying there right in front of him, and you welcome him back in with a sigh.

"Such a fuckin' mess."

You moan in agreement, sucking his cock deeper into your mouth. You can't see him. You don't need to. You know he's close by the way his balls draw tight and his moans get so desperate, his fingers stilling their slow exploration inside you.

And then, he's spurting into the back of your throat - you bet he has his eyes closed - and you swallow over and over, the salty burst of him barely registering on your tasetbuds as you eagerly swallow everything he has to give.

"Get it all. That's it. Swallow it. Fuck, sweetheart."

You suck and lick until his fingers pull out of you and grip your thigh, too sensitive for you to carry on your gentle licks against his head.

With one last gentle suck, you release him with a pop and flop beside him, smiling dozily to yourself as your hands play against your belly.

Joel lays with you for a moment too, his cock going limp against his belly before he tucks it away and sits up.

"Y'always like this after you fuck yourself?" he asks, and you nod, watching the way he stretches his neck and shoulders. You think you are, anyway. Mostly, you fall straight asleep. It's only on these rare occasions you get to fuck yourself with your fingers and take your time that you ended up smiling and satisfied at a job well done.

"Get up here," he says again a moment later, tugging gently at your limp arm. He could manhandle you - he's done it before, he's plenty strong enough - but he doesn't. Instead he waits patiently until you're on your knees in front of him, almost matching his height where he stands and you kneel.

"What'd'ya say?" he asks, pinching your chin. "Tha..."

"Thank you, Joel," you say, with a roll of your eyes. "But, technically, it's your fault I even needed your help in the first place."

With a quick slap to your ass, he pushes your chin away with his thumb, before dragging your face right back to his. "Alright smartass. C'mere."

Then, he kisses you. Full on the mouth, kisses you.

And, when you slip your tongue against his bottom lip, tasting yourself on the fullness of it, he doesn't object. He meets you in the middle instead, tasting himself on your tongue as you taste yourself on his.

"Always go so fuckin' dopey for kisses," he says with a laugh against your mouth, and you moan an agreement as your head falls back. You're exhausted, right down to the bones, and now the mornings events are catching up with you.

"I do. You don't mind tasting your cum."

Honest too, apparently, and Joel shakes his head.

"S'mine, and I fuckin' put it there. Nice knowin' you taste of me, sweetheart. If it ain't one hole, it oughta be another."

He shrugs his jacket on, and pulls his shoes onto his feet, before he sees himself out. He pats you gently on the ass as he leaves, closing your bedroom door behind himself. You listen out for the front door, and when it slams, you let the fuzzy feeling take hold - your eyes catching sight of his flannel shirt on your dresser right before you're dragged under.

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