#to thinking youre about to be shot by your father on the side of a highway while he says 'from one murderer to another i'll see you in hell

[bloodlineslut]

The Law of Obsession (Ch. 2) | Roman Reigns

Pairings: Roman Reigns x black! OC

Warnings: none

Summary: Laila meets a new friend at the cafe who has ties to Roman.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: MM MM MMM. I can only imagine what Roman sounds like over the phone when it's just you and him talking. Like warm butter.

Laila was jolted out of her sleep by the blaring sound of her alarm, blindly feeling around in her bed to turn off the incessant noise that made its way into her dream.

Her dream.

Her eyes shot open, trying to think back and remember all of it, but failing, only remembering bits and pieces.

She was sitting curled up on his lap, all of her weight resting on his firm thigh. His warm hands rubbing up and down her smooth legs that she just shaved and exfoliated.

Laila was the only one paying attention to the action movie they were watching. Engrossed by the film’s plot, she blindly shoved popcorn in her mouth from the large bowl Roman made for them.

Although it seemed like Roman was also watching the movie, his mind was occupied with her beauty and aura.

He couldn’t help but stare at the side of her pretty face, seeing that dimple appear every time she moved her mouth.

She could feel his stare on her and turned to look at him. “Roman! You’re not watching the movie…” She whined, grabbing his hand and playing with his fingers.

“I am babygirl. I promise.” He says, stroking his beard with his other hand.

He genuinely smiles for the first time in a long time, knowing that he was her protector.

Knowing that she was his.

All Laila could remember was that they were curled up in a mansion and watching The Fast & The Furious.

She zoned out in thought, a goofy smile creeping on her face.

“Ugh. Girl stand up, you just met him yesterday.” She tells herself as she sits up in her full size bed, adorned with pink and white sheets, pillowcases, a comforter, and fuzzy blanket.

She was so glad it was Saturday now, but she still wanted to get some homework and a little more studying done.

Going back to the café popped into her mind.

Grabbing her phone from under her pillow, she sees what time it is.

11:24 AM.

Having a little pep in her step today, she decides to actually take time to get ready and maybe pick out a sporty, but cute outfit.

The weather app said it was 73 degrees out so she could pull out the shorts today.

Opening the doors to her color coordinated closet, she goes to the black and white section. She reaches for the hanger that holds a black dri-fit tank top and pulls out black running shorts from her drawers. Then, she decides to do a white sports bra that had the criss-cross straps in the back for a pop of color.

After doing her daily morning routine that consisted of washing her face, doing skincare, and brushing her teeth, now she could start with makeup.

Before she could start though, she remembered her playlist wasn’t on yet.

Doing her makeup was pretty simple, as she liked to keep it pretty natural.

But the new song that began playing made her think of him.

She didn’t even have time to start fantasizing about what kind of boyfriend he would be, as her mom’s phone call pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Hey momma!”

“Hi my baby! How are you? I didn’t hear from you last night…” Her mother’s loving tone sounds through the speaker.

“Oh, yea sorry mom. I was really tired and forgot to call you.” She quickly makes up a lie, hoping it wouldn’t turn into a big thing.

“Okay…I just want to know that you’re safe. Your father is at work but he says he loves you, and we miss you!” Laila could just hear the tender smile in her mother’s voice.

“I miss you and dad too!”

“So, have you made any friends up there? From your classes or anything?” Laila picked up her phone and carried it with her while she walked to the kitchen in her apartment.

Setting the phone down on the counter, she continues the conversation. “Um…no not really. But mom, I’m also the type of person where someone has to talk to me first.” She reaches up to the cabinet, grabbing a glass to put her iced coffee into.

“I know honey. Maybe you could find a club for something that you like? That’s always a good place to start. Or go to a football game!” Her mother throws suggestions out there.

Going to a football game honestly didn’t even cross her mind, until now.

“I would love to go to a game, but I can’t go by myself. That’s lame, momma.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sure you’ll find someone to go with you…” Her mother says, trying to keep her hopes up.

“Yea hopefully…”

“Alright, well honey I have to head to the grocery store to get some things for dinner tonight. Your father and I love you, so much.” She hears her mom blow a kiss through the phone.

“I love ya’ll too. Send me pics of what you make too!”

“Okay my baby. Good bye and be safe.”

“Bye momma.” She hangs up the phone and looks at her counter for a minute.

Before Laila knew it, she finished her glass of coffee and rinsed it out, setting it in the sink. She went to her bedroom to put her black Nike’s on and to grab her backpack and car keys.

Arriving at the café, there were definitely more people there than any other time. She spotted an empty table near the counter and walked to it, sitting down.

Her to-do list had a few things on it, so she told herself that she would finish everything so the rest of her day was free. The first thing was to take a syllabus quiz for her finance class.

Knocking that out in about 15 minutes, she decided to reward herself with a treat.

Since she already had coffee this morning, she was thinking of just eating one of the café’s signature muffins.

Luckily, the line was going down, so she closed her laptop and got in line behind another black girl.

“Hey, you go to UMiami?” The girl in front of her turns around and nicely asks her.

“Yea I do! You go there too?”

“Oh no,” she laughed. “Some of my friends go there, though. I’m Naomi, by the way.” Naomi reaches her hand out to shake Laila’s.

“Hi, I’m Laila!” They smile at each other, shaking hands.

“So Laila, help a girl out. What you get when you come here?”

Laila laughed, happy that she finally met someone that she could potentially be friends with.

Other than Roman.

“Lemme see. Their coffee is really good, but I already had some. But the muffins look good though, so I think I want that.” She points out the 3 different flavors of muffins the café offered.

“Blueberry sugar, chocolate chip,” Naomi gasps. “And strawberry?! I gotta get that one.” She claps her hands together, making Laila laugh.

“You’re so funny!”

“Girl, it be my husband I swear. He’s so silly and I think it rubs off on me.”

“You’re married? Wow, it must be nice…” She half joked as they moved up in the line.

“That’s what they tell you at first. Then they just get on your nerves…” She paused. “No, I love my pookie, though. His name is Jimmy.” Naomi informs her new friend.

As they told each other more things about themselves, they finally got to the counter and placed their orders. Naomi got her strawberry muffin and a lemonade, while Laila just got a blueberry sugar muffin.

She told Naomi that if she didn’t have anywhere to be, she could sit and eat with her at the table.

“Do you have homework and stuff?” Naomi asked as she took a bite of the muffin, moaning slightly at the taste.

“Yea, but thankfully it’s not a lot.”

“What’s your major?”

“Accounting! I graduate next spring.” Laila takes a bite of her muffin, now halfway eaten. She loved the taste of the sugar crystals that were on top.

“Oh you’re good with numbers.” Naomi said the thing that everyone always says when they find out Laila’s major.

“Oh my gosh, that’s what Roman said too.” Laila muttered the last part of that sentence.

“That’s what who said?” The muffin that was on its way to Naomi’s mouth stopped mid air, as she raised an eyebrow.

“This guy I met yesterday. It was actually here too.” Laila explained to Naomi, thinking back to her and Roman’s encounter yesterday.

“What’s his name again?” Naomi wanted to make sure she heard correctly. She could’ve swore Laila said Roman.

“Roman.”

Naomi’s eyes bulged damn near out of her sockets.

Laila furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at her reaction. “Wait, you know him?”

Naomi looked around in disbelief. “Girl, that’s my husband’s cousin! That’s crazy. You met Roman Roman? Like, he’s tall with a man bun and a beard?” Naomi moved her hands, modeling all three descriptions as they came out of her mouth.

“Yes! He’s really nice. I wasn’t expecting that to happen yesterday…” Laila looked away in thought and Naomi was glad because if only this girl knew.

“Jimmy ain’t gon’ believe this.” Naomi was already planning to tell him as soon as she got home. Jimmy always said Roman was gonna die single because he could never keep just one woman.

“Well, did he give you his number? I’m nosey.” Naomi was very well aware of what Roman did under the table for a living, but they all swore to keep it a secret.

“No. He actually gave me his law firm’s business card.” Laila pulls it out of her wallet, showing it to Naomi.

She takes it from her hands. “Yep, that’s him.” She turns the card over, seeing and recognizing Roman’s handwriting.

“Um Laila?” Naomi turns the card around, showing Laila the back. “Did you see this part?”

Laila takes the card back, looking closely at the number, clearly in handwriting and not typed.

“Is this his cell phone number?” Laila asks with wide eyes.

“Mmhmmm.” Naomi sips her lemonade, looking around the café. “Speaking of numbers, we should exchange.”

Laila can’t believe she didn’t see this until now. She must’ve been so engrossed with his presence that she didn’t notice him write it on the card before handing it to her.

Naomi handed her her phone to put in the contact info, then she texted the number so Laila could save it.

Throughout the rest of their conversation, Laila tried to pay attention, but her mind kept running back to Roman.

‘Should I call him first?’

‘Wait, no I don’t wanna seem desperate.’

‘But how is he gonna call me? He doesn’t have my number…’

“Laila you ain’t hear anything I just said.” Naomi catches her red handed.

Her mouth opens then closes in shame. “I’m sorry girly.”

Naomi gives a smug smile. “It’s okay, I know you over there thinking about your man,” Laila’s jaw drops, making Naomi giggle. “I gotta leave anyway. Jimmy talking about some he wants to get food even though he’s supposed to be on a diet.” She rolls her eyes.

“Oh, okay.” Laila chuckles slightly.

Naomi stands up, gathering her things before bending down to give Laila a goodbye hug.

“Text or call me sometime! Maybe we can do double dates in the future?” She winks at Laila and they both laugh.

Laila just shakes her head, seeing Naomi get in her car.

Forcing herself to finish her other 3 assignments in record time, she lets out a deep breath turning in the last one. She gathers all of her things, shoving them in her backpack and throwing away her trash.

Walking outside, she catches herself looking around for a tall man with man bun and beard. She wouldn’t be lying if she wasn’t a little bummed at not running into him again.

But at least she has a girl friend now.

Once in her car, she checks the time.

3:25 PM.

Driving to Cava, she gets her usual bowl before making her way back to her apartment.

A couple of hours later, she was laying in her bed under the comfort of her fuzzy blankets, watching TV. The soft glow of the television illuminated her room, but she wasn’t really paying much attention to it.

Her phone began to buzz on top of her nightstand.

Expecting it to be her mom, she instinctively reaches to pick it up, but was met with an unknown number.

Her brows knitted together in confusion, but the thought that it could be Roman crossed her mind and she hurriedly swiped to answer it.

He was the first one to speak. “Laila.”

Her stomach immediately did that flip thing at the sound of his voice—deep, smooth, but laced with an unreadable, underlying emotion.

Oh, that deep sultry voice made her stomach do that flip thing.

“Yeah? Roman?”

“Hi.” He says with slight hesitation, testing the waters out.

“Hi.” She echoed and smiled, feeling like a school girl that had a crush on a boy in her class.

“So you met Naomi today?”

“Oh, um—yea I did! She told me her husband and you are cousins.” She says, fiddling with the pink bonnet that was on her head.

Roman let out a breathy chuckle. “Yea, Jimmy and his brother Jey. We grew up together.” The fondness of talking about his family was evident in his voice. Everyone always thought that they were triplets wherever they went.

“Aw, ya’ll must be really close?”

“Oh yeah. They get on my nerves, but I love them though.” This makes Laila laugh, warming Roman’s heart at hearing that joyous sound.

“Yea, I can tell. Naomi talks about Jimmy like he worships the ground she walks on.” Laila thinks back to when Naomi was telling her about their wedding day.

There was a moment of silence between the two.

“Yeah. When you have something real with someone, you hold on to it.” His words revered through her ear as she idly played with the design on her blanket.

There was an unspoken meaning behind the words Roman was saying.

“…That’s a good way to put it.” Laila breathed out, her heart racing and thumping in her chest.

Roman could sense that she was nervous. Hell, he was too.

But only a little.

“Well. I know you probably have some things you need to do so…I won’t keep you long.” She could hear the ruffles of papers in the background.

“Are you still at work?”

“I am, but I’m about to drive home.” He smirks even though she can’t see it.

“Oh, okay. Well…I hope you make it home safe.” She says sweetly, really meaning her words.

“I will. Can I call you tomorrow?” He asks her.

Laila quickly nods her head, but she realizes he can’t see that. “Yes! That’s fine.”

Her excitement amused Roman. “Okay. Good night Laila.”

“Good night…” She echoed and the call disconnected.

She leaned back against her bed’s headboard and just stared at the ceiling, finally feeling like she was going to really like it here.

taglist!: @duhitzkay380 @emotionalhottiee @minsingular @potatosackk @vebner37 if you would like to be tagged, just comment!!

[vigilante-3073]

Gentle Hands

Gregory House x Female Reader

Summary: House and Y/N have a four year old daughter and have just welcomed a baby boy. House teaches his daughter about the importance of using her 'gentle hands.'

TW: Mentions of postpartum parenthood, babies, House being House.

S/N: Son's name M/N: Middle name

D/N: Daughter's name

Y/N was laying in her hospital bed with her newborn held close to her chest. The baby slept soundly, wrapped in a blanket with a hat on his tiny head.

It had been a long and difficult labor, but their baby was finally here. S/N House was born at five o'clock in the morning, he was in perfect health with a strong set of lungs.

He was a gorgeous little baby with his father's blue eyes and a head of dark hair. D/N had always looked like her mother, but the newest addition to the family definitely bore more of a resemblance to his father.

House had stayed by her side for the entirety of her labor, although he did manage to take a rather lengthy nap in the earlier hours. Wilson had spent the night at their home to watch D/N when Y/N went into labor.

House slept on the couch in the corner of the room using his coat as a blanket. Y/N glanced at the clock before she pulled out the small toy gun House had given her.

She shot one of the foam darts at her husband and he jumped slightly before looking over at her, "What?" He questioned, sitting up and tossing his coat aside.

"Can you send a message to Wilson and tell him that he can bring D/N when he comes in?" Y/N asked, House nodded.

He pulled his phone from his coat, typing out the message before sending the text. He tossed his phone onto the couch beside him, leaning back into the cushions.

"How is he?" House asked.

"Quiet... He's been been asleep for almost an hour," Y/N said, pushing the blanket away from his small face.

"Good, little guy has been through a lot," House said.

"Oh, he's been through a lot, huh?" Y/N asked with a smile.

"You did the heavy lifting, but he was definitely involved," House stated.

"I guess you're right," She nodded, looking down at their son, "Do you think D/N will get along with him?" Y/N asked.

"No... Siblings fight and they'll spend most of their lives hating each other, but that's just family," House said.

"I hope you're wrong," Y/N said softly.

"We can teach her how to be a good sister to him," House stated, Y/N nodded.

House glanced over when his phone buzzed, reaching over and picking it up. He looked down at the screen, "Wilson is making her breakfast and then they'll come down," House said.

"We're going to have to buy him dinner or something. He's such a sweetheart," Y/N said, House raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, you hitched your wagon to this horse. You can't go switching it up mid-race," House said, Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Whatever you say, Greg," She said.

...

House fell back asleep with his arms crossed, head leaned back against the couch as he snored softly. Y/N smiled when she saw Wilson making his way over with D/N's hand held in his.

Wilson slid open the door, "Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked softly, making his way over to the bed.

"Tired, but good," Y/N smiled.

He looked down at the wrapped bundle in her arms, "Wow, boy or girl?" He asked.

"Boy. His name is S/N M/N House," Y/N said.

"That's a perfect name for him," Wilson smiled.

"Thank you so much for looking after D/N last night," Y/N said.

"Of course. I'm happy to babysit whenever," Wilson assured.

"Mommy," D/N mumbled softly, tugging on Wilson's hand.

"Can you lift her up here for me?" Y/N asked, Wilson nodded.

He bent down and picked up D/N, "Up we go, peanut," He said, placing her on the bed beside her mother.

"Do you want me to wake him up?" Wilson asked, pointing his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of House.

"He gave me something to use for that, actually," Y/N said, pulling out the toy gun.

She shot another foam dart at her husband, he lifted his head, "That's awesome," Wilson laughed.

House wiped a hand over his face before grabbing his cane and making his way over, "Can you take him for a minute, honey?" Y/N asked, he nodded.

House hooked his cane onto the edge of the bed, Y/N passed the baby to him and adjusted the blankets around the baby's face.

Y/N pulled her daughter into her arms, pressing a kiss to the little girl's forehead as she held onto her, "Did you have a good night with your uncle, baby?" Y/N asked.

"He made me pancakes," D/N said softly.

"Pancakes? Really? I hear that he makes the best pancakes ever. Were they yummy?" Y/N asked, D/N nodded.

Wilson smiled as he watched his friend interact with her daughter. They had always been close and it was good that she gave her daughter some extra affection with the new baby.

It wasn't that long ago that House and Y/N welcomed their first child, they were good parents and their children were lucky to have them.

"Wilson, do you want to hold him?" House asked.

"Definitely," Wilson nodded, moving over to his friend.

House passed the baby to Wilson, watching as his friend smiled down at the newborn, "He really is perfect, Y/N. You did an amazing job," Wilson said.

"Thank you, James," Y/N smiled.

"Hey, he got those looks from me. D/N is all Y/N, this one is mine," House said, Y/N shook her head.

"Remember how we told you that there was a baby in mommy's tummy, my girl?" Y/N questioned, D/N nodded.

"Well, mommy had the baby last night. You have a baby brother and his name is S/N," Y/N said.

"S/N," D/N repeated.

"Yeah, do you want to meet him?" Y/N questioned, D/N nodded.

"Come here, kid," House said, holding his arms out to his daughter. She crawled over and allowed him to lift her off the bed, "Go sit on the couch over there, okay?" House instructed, D/N nodded.

She rushed over to the couch and climbed up, waiting patiently as House and Wilson made their way over. House sat down on the couch beside her, "You have to be really gentle with your bother, okay? He is a brand new baby and we have to be very careful with him," House said.

D/N nodded, "Use gentle hands," She repeated.

House nodded, "Exactly," He said. Wilson passed the baby to his friend, House adjusted his hold on the child before holding the wrapped bundle out for his daughter to see.

"You also need to make sure that you keep two hands on him at all times, alright? He can get really hurt if you don't," House said, his daughter nodded.

Wilson placed a pillow on D/N's lap, "Hold your arms like this, peanut," Wilson said, holding his arms in a circle in front of himself.

D/N quickly copied him, resting her arms on the pillow in her lap, "Perfect, stay just like that," House nodded.

He reached over, placing the baby in his daughter's arms. D/N stared down at her brother in awe, holding him carefully in her arms.

Wilson took a step back, making his way over to Y/N, "You made some cute kids," He said.

"Thank you for being here, James," She smiled. Wilson gave her a quick hug before they returned to watching House and D/N look at the baby.

"Hi, baby," D/N said softly, eyes focused on the baby in her arms. S/N shifted with a squeak, opening his mouth and letting out a large yawn.

"He's tired," D/N mumbled, looking up at her father.

House nodded, "He had to travel a long and incredibly narrow way to be here," He said, glancing over at his wife.

"Don't tell her that, House," Y/N scolded.

"What? It's a compliment," House shrugged.

The baby began to fuss in his daughter's arms, "He's probably hungry," Y/N said.

"I can take D/N to my office for a bit," Wilson offered.

"You can take her to mine if you want. The kid loves Cameron," House said, carefully lifting the baby from his daughter's arms. House stood up from the couch, limping over to his wife and passing their son over to her.

"Alright, sounds good. Text me when you're done," Wilson said.

D/N hopped off the couch, "Come on, let's go visit Doctor Cameron," Wilson smiled, holding out his hand.

D/N rushed over to him and grabbed onto his hand, Wilson led her out of the hospital room and slid the door closed behind them.

...

S/N was asleep in his bassinet beside Y/N's hospital bed, comfortably swaddled with a fresh diaper. D/N sat in the bed beside her mother as Y/N read to her from one of her daughter's favorite books. House sat on the couch, eyes focused on the Gameboy in his hands.

Y/N looked up when she heard a soft knock on the glass. Cuddy and Wilson stood outside the room holding a comically large teddy bear and a floral arrangement.

Y/N smiled and wave them in, Cuddy opened the door and made her way into the room with Wilson following closely behind her. Wilson set the stuffed animal on the couch beside House while Cuddy went over to her friend.

Cuddy set the case of flowers on the table beside the bed, "Congratulations," Cuddy smiled, leaning in and giving her friend a gentle hug.

"Are you excited to be a big sister, D/N?" Cuddy asked, the little girl nodded.

"His name is S/N," D/N said.

"Oh, that's a beautiful name," Cuddy said, she turned to look at the baby, "It definitely suits him," Cuddy stated, staring down at the baby fondly.

She turned her attention back to her friend, "How are you feeling? Are you sore? Or tired? Because I can take D/N for a couple days if you need some time to recover," Cuddy offered.

"I feel good. I'm tired, but we'll be fine," Y/N assured.

"Just let me know if you need anything, okay?" Cuddy questioned, Y/N nodded.

"Well, since you're offering," House started, Cuddy held her hand up to stop him.

"Not you, just your wife. I don't need to hear whatever nastiness you had in mind," Cuddy said.

"That's not very nice, Doctor Cuddy," House said, shaking his head and returning to his game.

"You'll get over it," Cuddy said with a smile.

The baby wiggled in the bassinet with a whine, "Can you grab him for me, Lisa?" Y/N asked.

"Of course," Cuddy nodded, picking up the baby from the bassinet. She passed the fussing baby to her friend, Y/N unbuttoned the clasps at the top of her gown.

Y/N draped a blanket over herself as she set the baby up to nurse, cradling her child in her arms.

"He's such a beautiful baby, Y/N. He has really pretty eyes," Cuddy smiled.

Y/N nodded, "I definitely lucked out. I had two beautiful babies, but I definitely think that the baby factory is closed for business," Y/N said, looking over at her daughter.

"You said that after the first one too," House said.

"Okay, maybe we can keep it open for a couple more years... We do make some cute babies," Y/N smiled.

[lipstick-and-libraries]

Between the Lines

PT. 4

𓋜 Pairing: Minho (XO, Kitty) x fem! Reader

𓋜 Series: The Roommate Exchange

𓋜 Summary: When You and Minho are paired for a class project, unexpected moments of honesty and tension arise. Between late-night conversations and shared silences, you discover that some things are harder to hide than you thought.

𓋜 Notes:

Hello my loves!!

I know that I take a while to upload, however, i fully intend to finish this small series and still give you more than just 4 chapters, soo..what would you think about another chapter coming out directly after this as a thank you for everyone who so kindly supports my thoughts that I didnt expect anyone to see.

Anyhow, I hope you guys are fans of slowburn and heartbreak because from now on this rollercoaster will get a little more bumpy, love will do that to you, and especially to You and Minho <3

𓋜 Taglist:

@finnbbl

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@knivesdoingcartwheels

@teaandbacon

@dragonwitchy

@formula1mount

@strayk1ds143

@uhsophiesblog

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@random-human02

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A special thank you to everyone on the taglist, i love you guys ꨄ

Please do let me know if i have forgotten you, i keep the names in my notes app so i shouldnt forget anyone but if it happens anyway i am deeply sorry

If you want to be added to the taglist, just put it in the comments, your reposts or in my asks, even if I havent answered I 100% have seen it and added you <33

Enough talking from my side though, enjoy you study date with Minho

The buzz from the creative showcase announcement still lingered around KISS like an unspoken challenge. Posters were plastered on every wall, reminding students of the looming event hosted by none other than Minho’s father—a showcase designed to highlight the best talents at the school. For most, it was an opportunity. For Minho, it was a reminder of everything he tried to avoid: expectations, vulnerability, and being seen beyond the carefully curated persona he presented to the world.

But none of that mattered right now.

Because Minho was staring at the name list posted outside his literature class, and there it was—bold and undeniable:

Group Project Partners: Minho & (Y/N)

He blinked, hoping his eyes were deceiving him. They weren’t.

“Wow,” Q’s voice broke through Minho’s silent panic, appearing over his shoulder with an amused grin. “Fate really isn’t subtle, huh?”

Dae chuckled beside him, leaning casually against the wall. “You’ll survive. Maybe.”

Minho shot them both a glare before shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s just a project. No big deal.”

But it was a big deal. Because every time he was around (Y/N), he turned into the version of himself he didn’t recognize—awkward, uncertain, and far too aware of every glance, every word, every silence. She had this way of looking at him, like she could see past the walls he’d built, and it unnerved him more than he cared to admit.

The first meeting was scheduled for the library, an attempt to maintain some semblance of professionalism. Minho arrived early—an unfamiliar habit—but he told himself it was because he wanted to pick the best table. Definitely not because he was nervous.

He chose a spot near the back, where the shelves of books created a semi-private alcove. The table was sturdy, the chairs comfortable, and the lighting just bright enough to work without being harsh. He set his bag down, pulled out his notebook, and tried to focus on the assignment sheet. But his mind kept drifting, replaying every interaction he’d ever had with (Y/N), searching for clues on how to navigate this.

When she finally arrived, balancing her laptop and a stack of books, she gave him a polite nod. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Minho replied, sitting up straighter than necessary. He gestured to the chair across from him. “I figured this spot would be quiet enough.”

“Good call,” she said, sliding into the seat and setting her things down. She opened her laptop, the soft glow of the screen illuminating her face as she pulled up their assignment. “So, any ideas?”

Minho scrambled to focus. “Uh, yeah. Maybe we could… compare themes? Like, how the author explores identity or something.”

(Y/N) glanced at him, her expression neutral. “That’s vague.”

“Well, it’s a start,” he muttered defensively, crossing his arms over his chest.

She sighed softly, but there was no malice in it. “Okay. Let’s break it down.”

They worked in relative silence, punctuated by occasional questions and the awkward brush of hands when they reached for the same notebook. Minho tried to ignore the way his heart raced at the brief contact, the way her proximity made it hard to think straight. He wasn’t used to feeling this off-balance, and it frustrated him.

But the real shift happened two hours in.

Minho leaned back in his chair, frustrated with a section they couldn’t seem to crack. “This is pointless.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, not looking up from her notes. “The project or your attitude?”

He shot her a look, but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes that disarmed him. “Both,” he admitted grudgingly.

She set her pen down and tilted her head, studying him. “Why do you always act like nothing bothers you?”

The question caught him off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve got this… façade,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “Like you’ve got everything figured out. But clearly, you don’t.”

Minho’s jaw tightened. “And you think you’ve got me all figured out?”

She shrugged. “No. But you make it pretty easy to see through the act.”

The words stung more than he expected because they were true. He looked away, his fingers tapping restlessly against the edge of the table. Before he could respond, her phone buzzed. She glanced at it briefly, then stood. “I need a break. Coffee?”

Minho hesitated, then stood too. “Yeah. Sure.”

The café near campus was quiet. They sat by the glass, sipping their drinks, the tension from earlier lingering like static. Minho stirred his coffee absently, watching the steam rise in delicate swirls.

“I didn’t mean to hit a nerve,” (Y/N) said eventually, her voice soft. She stirred her own drink, her gaze fixed on the swirling liquid.

Minho stared at his cup. “I’m just used to people assuming things about me, especially because my parents, well, mostly my father, aren't, well.."

He gets quieter with every word, his expression almost showing the hate he has for himself for even mentioning it, or hatred for his father, it was hard for (Y/N) to tell.

"I don’t usually care, but…”

She knew he wasn't going to continue on with the story about his parents, but (Y/N) let him, knowing that if he wanted to, he will bring it up again when he is ready to tell her.

“But?” she prompted gently, her eyes lifting to meet his.

“But you’re not ‘people,’” he admitted, his voice quieter than he intended.

She blinked, clearly not expecting that. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Well, that’s vague.”

Minho laughed softly, the tension easing slightly. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“You’re not as complicated as you think, Minho,” she added, her gaze steady.

And just like that, the air shifted again.

That night, back in his dorm, Minho couldn’t shake the conversation. He sat at his desk, staring at his phone, his thumb hovering over the anonymous blog app.

Dae was scrolling on his phone, and Q was fiddling with his headphones, oblivious to Minho’s internal turmoil. Without overthinking, Minho typed:

“How do you stop caring about what someone thinks of you when they see through you so easily? Asking for a friend.”

He hit send before he could regret it, then tossed his phone aside, burying his face in his hands.

The next project meeting was different.

They worked in her dorm this time, Kitty buzzing around briefly before leaving with a sly, knowing grin. Minho tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the papers spread across the floor. For whatever reason, (Y/N), decided to dress up. Not that it mattered, in Minho's Eyes, she, for whatever reason, wasnt physically capable of ever looking bad anyway. She always looked… effortless.

“Do you ever write just for yourself?” Minho asked suddenly, surprising even himself.

She glanced up, her brow furrowing slightly. Minho wondered what that look was about, but decided not to question it for now

“Sometimes. Why?”

“Just curious.”

She hesitated, then reached for a notebook tucked under a pile of papers. “I guess writing helps me make sense of things. Even if no one reads it.”

Minho nodded, understanding more than he wanted to admit. “Yeah. I get that.”

After a pause, she added softly, “It’s scary, though. Being honest on paper.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “But it’s scarier being honest out loud.”

Their eyes met, something unspoken passing between them. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them, the weight of their shared vulnerability hanging in the air.

"I..", Minho hesitated, his eyes flicking between hers and the wall behind her.

The Room was dim, light enough to see the papers, but dark enough to hide (Y/N)'s quick glance at the subtle twitch in Minho's jaw.

Which is exactly why her next movement caught him so off-guard.

She lifted her hand, placing it on his cheek and softly caressing his jawline with her thumb.

Minho was used to romantic affection and the touches that came with it, with this many people wanting to get atleast a part of you it was like a handshake at best, at least thats what he would usually think.

But this was...something else entirely.

His eyes went wide, looking at her without even attempting to hide it.

She chuckled, giving him a smile before leaning close to him, his eyes quickly switching from her eyes to her lips, only to repeat the same motion.

To his dissatisfaction, she only wrapped her arms around him tightly, rubbing small circles into his back. He hugged her back just as tight, without thinking about it at all

Minho was uncertain, but they almost felt heart shaped. Whether that was just his imagination, or reality, he didnt dare to ponder about it further.

She let go of him, resorting to only grabbing his hand and giving in three subtle squeezes.

Before either of them could break the moment by saying anything, Kitty burst through the door, dramatically complaining about Yuri, effectively shattering the tension.

But it didn’t matter.

Because the only thing he could think about, was how she didnt move her hand, not even by an inch, and to him, it felt like a promise.

[gingernut1314]

Like Seahorses Do ch. 9

Summary: Silco comes up with a plan to bring Viktor's father back home. A plan that goes wrong.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, young Vander, young Silco, young Sevika, young reader, young Felicia, young Connol, baby Vi, Nadia & Nikolai are Viktor's parents, canon typical violence (lots of fighting in this one), guns/blood, more feelings confessing, reader has water manipulation, smoking, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, Felicia & Connol)

Word Count: 8.9K

Tag List: @miffysoo , @teriyakiitae , @locinne , @equaniimouxx , @cipher-nine

@shi-toshi , @sebastianlover

A/N: ....heyyy....so....it's been a mintue...sorry...life is been a bit crazy and the fandom hopping, I can't help it 😭 buutt have an extra long chapter as my apology!! I hope you all enjoy!

↞ to The Water's Cold Embrace Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

Act 3

“We’ve gone on more dangerous jobs Topside than finding and bringing back poor Nikolai.” Silco huffed from where he stood before the bar at The Last Drop the next night. Connol and Felicia stood on his left side, while you and Sevika stood on the other, all huddled up tight as you tried to come up with a plan to get Nikolai back to the Lanes without paying that damn toll. “We’d be in and out before the sun even rose.” 

“I know we’ve been on more dangerous jobs. I know it’d be quick. But that’s it--we. Not you two alone.” Vander huffed right back at him as he mixed up a drink. Benzo, who was also working behind the bar, reached across Vander to grab a whiskey bottle. 

“I don’t know, Vander. Maybe it’s for the best they go it alone.” Benzo started as he reached with his other hand for three shot glasses. “Better only two get sent to Stillwater than all of us.” Benzo teased, making Silco frown deeply his way.

“How ‘bout you shut your gob and pass me one of those.” You insisted, stretching passed Silco to lean on the bar top, holding a hand of wiggling fingers out for Benzo to do as you said. But Benzo did the exact opposite of handing you a shot and began to laugh his ass off at you.

“Gob? You call that an insult?” You furrowed your brows at him.

“It’s--yes.” You hissed. “Gob like a mouth like--” You glanced towards Felicia for help but she had turned her eyes towards where Vi was rushing about the bar, causing chaos that most didn’t seem to mind. 

Connol was the one who caught your eye, rubbing a hand over his short-cropped hair a few times as he shrugged.

“That's not half bad. You know why, Zozo.” Connol started, a bit of playfulness shining in his eyes you all rarely saw. He was more the stoic type, but Felicia had seemed to soften his rugged edges a bit. 

Benzo made a greatly displeased face at Connol. “Zozo, aw gods that horr--” 

“Cause in the mining world a gob is where we put all the extra waste.” Connol chuckled an airy thing. You cracked a wicked grin, a high laugh on your lips.

“Agreed. Stop spewing such utter waste about the plan and focus.” Silco coldly shot Benzo’s way, the man seeming to have traded his smile for Silco’s frown. 

“Zozo, don’t let them get to you.” Felicia butted in, taking her eyes off Vi for a moment to throw Benzo a kind smile. 

“Gods, Zozo again!” Benzo groaned, passing the shots to the three awaiting customers. Felicia shook her head with a smirk as she looked back towards the rest of you all. 

“No one’s getting thrown into Stillwater though. I think--” The sound of shattering glass, a sharp hey!, and a very angry toddler’s babish, yet strangely mean words cut Felicia off. “Oh! Ah! Sorry! Vi. No, no!” She rushed off towards her now screeching three-year-old, Connol watching the whole scene in amusement. 

“Can we focus?” Sevika hissed, blowing a stream of smoke from her lungs. “I’ll go with them. How about that?” She huffed Vander’s way, who was still looking all too concerned about this small little trip. 

“I guess--”

“No,” Silco cut his brother off, making a spark of that wolfish anger flash through Vander’s eyes. “Sevika is to go speak with her father. Gather him and his men to our cause. We need the muscle.” 

“No fucking way I’m going to speak with that old bastard.” Sevika slammed her fist on the bar top beside where you had been leaning your hands. She bent down to all but grit her teeth in your face. “Just cause you two are back to being joined at the lips doesn’t mean you can go around tellin’ him my personal shit.” She hissed in your face, the remaining smoke from her lungs blowing into your face.

“I told him when you told me years ago. I didn’t know what a secret was then, Vika.” You bit back.

“And that’s supposed to make it any better?” She pulled away with a shake of her head. “Good fucking grief, guppy.” 

“Wait--lips?” Felicia popcorned back in, a fighting and red-faced Vi in her arms. “You two kissed? Again? No fight after? When?” She demanded, passing Vi off to Connol who got a cubby little fist to the jaw.

You thought back to how he’d kissed you last night. How he’d held your jaw so gently. How his lips had fit so perfectly against yours. Too perfectly. How he’d kissed you before saying goodnight and how he’d kissed you after he’d come back from work this morning. How he’d taken your hand and pulled you around the corner to kiss you before you two had joined the group in here.

“Uh--” You stammered, brain buzzing in the memory of them all. “We--the plan. We need to refocus on the plan.” You managed, glancing up at Silco to find that a dusting of pink had spread over his cheeks. Seafoam eyes looked over your face. Eyes that lingered ever so slightly on your lips.

Gods. You almost grabbed him then to give him an even closer view.

“I agr--” Silco could hardly finish his word before Sevika was speaking again.

“Just last night. Heard her telling Nadia all the hot and heavy details.” Sevika smirked making your heart spike sharply in your chest in slight panic. Felicia gave a delighted gasp, eyes glancing between the two of you.

“Tell me, tell me please.” She reached across the way to grab your hand and give it a little tug. 

“Sevika is overexaggerating it.” You grit, shooing Felicia’s hand away. “It wasn’t--well it was hot but I wouldn’t say it was heavy,” Felicia giggled and you couldn’t help but let your fluttering stomach pull one from you too. Silco said your name exasperated. “Oh--sorry.” You gave Silco a little apologetic shrug. “I still don’t think I’m very good at keeping secrets.” 

“It’s not a secret.” Silco huffed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders so that he could pull your back flush against his chest. You wrapped your hand around his wrist as your stomach gave a giddy little flutter. 

Not a secret. 

It was a sentiment that made you feel all warm inside.

“But what we do is none of you nitwits concern.” Silco hissed it around the small huddle of your friends, who all wore various different looks of amusement. “Besides, it’s only been a day.” 

“How long have you two known each other?” Sevika sounded like she’d grown bored of this conversion, but one look at her face showed the mischief still raging in her eyes. 

“Ten years.” You and Silco both responded without so much as a moment of hesitation. It only made Felicia’s smile wider. 

“Ten years of friendship and annoyingly pining over each other. I’d say it’s reason enough to fuck.” Sevika very bluntly said. A bluntness that had your face feeling like you’d shove it into a pot of boiling water and Silco’s grip around you tightened the slightest bit.

“You’re godsdamn lucky Nadia isn’t here to scold you.” You hissed, giving her a shove that didn’t even move a single hair on her head. 

“It’s good to go slow.” Felicia chimed in, dodging another flying fist from her kid. “Otherwise you might end up with a perfect little boxer.” She grabbed Vi’s chubby cheeks and littered it with kisses. Vi complained but held still to receive the affection. 

Your heart hallowed out enough it loosened your hold on that nagging voice in the back of your mind.

You had slept with people you had had zero feelings for outside of an appreciation of their looks. You knew Silco had too so you couldn’t help but think should you have? 

There was no question in your mind about whether or not you wanted to. You did. Oh gods you did but a relationship like this with your good friend and someone you’d liked for such a long time was different. You didn’t know a single thing about being in a serious relationship.

Was this serious?

Was this--

“Again,” Silco began, his thumb rubbing over your exposed collarbone in a way that had you forgetting about that nagging little voice. “It is none of your concern.” He leveled Sevika with a threat-filled glare she gruffed at but lowered her gaze to. 

“Well--all I’ll say is it's about damn time.” Benzo chimed in, a friendly smile on his face. “Better than you two squabbling all the time.” He slid a shot down the way for you, just as you had asked moments ago. 

“Now,” Vander spoke once more, a happy little smile on his lips and a gleeful sparkle in his eyes that had quelled the wolf altogether. “Silco, rework the plan. You two won’t go alone but we do need to get Nikolai.” Silco huffed at this. 

“If we send Sevika, Connol, and Benzo to meet with Sevkia’s father--” Sevika cut Silco off with a growl.

“I said I’m not gonna mee--”

“I don’t wish to make ya go meet with him, Sevika, but we need all the support we can get.” Vander started, beginning to make a fresh drink. “The situation at the border is only going to get worse. We all know that. Would you like me to go instead?” Sevika watched him for a long moment, gray eyes hard and top lip twitching in her anger. 

“No. He won’t speak with you.” She took a long, deep drag of her blunt. “Fuck it. Whatever. Next part of the plan.” 

“We three can go find Nikolai.” Silco gestured to Vander, you, and himself. “Nadia said their friend's home is one street up from the northernmost bridge. We’ll have to cross the river and hope Nikolai stays put.” 

“And how are we gonna get ‘cross the river?” Vander asked, placing a little flower on the top of the drink he had just made before passing it to a girl down the way. He came back over, a few coins in hand. 

Silco looked to you and you to him. 

You were the plan to get across the river. You were going to use your magic to create a small bubble of air for Silco so that you could swim him across under the water. That way no one would see you.

But now, with the added mix of Vander who knew nothing of your powers, would complicate things. You hadn’t really ever planned on telling him of them. Telling any of your friends about them. Magic wasn’t something people tended to think fondly of. 

“We’ll swim across of course.” Vander raised a brow at Silco’s almost too-cocky words. 

“You can’t swim.” Silco shrugged. 

“She’s been teaching me.” Vander continued to watch you both with an “I’m not believing this for two seconds” look. “It’ll be fine. Just go with it.” 

“What about me?” Felicia asked. “I want to be involved too. I can still kick ass with a baby strapped to my chest. She’ll help too.” Silco looked to Vander who both then looked to Felicia. 

“Well, the plan was you would go stay with Nadia.” This only earned Silco a sharp glare. 

“So I’m stuck on babysitting duty?” Felicia snapped. 

“It is your ankle bitter.” This only earned you an equally as sharp glare. 

“It’s not just my ankle bitter.” Felicia shoved her pink-painted pointer finger into Connol’s shoulder, pulling a small ow from his lips. “Why don’t you stay on babysitting duty, huh?” 

“Babe, I would much rather watch Vi then go meet with Sevika’s papa.” Connol readjusted his grip on his kid, who was now trying to throw herself backward out of his arms. 

“Alright then. Change the plan.” Felicia gestured to Silco to do so.

“This is the last time I am involving you all in the creation of any plan. I am the plan maker. I make the plans.” Silco gruffed her way, but Felicia only threw him a wink. “Fine. Connol will stay with Nadia and Vi and Felicia will go with Sevika and Benzo. There. Do we all agree on the plan?” Everyone in the group gave a round of nods and sounds of agreement. 

“I still would like to know how we’re going to get ‘cross the river,” Vander said. You grabbed for the shot Benzo had given you and held it up his way.

“You’ll like it. It’ll be fun.” And you downed the burning liquid in one go.

“All this talk of crossing rivers reminds me of this old song my mom used to sing to me before bed…oh how did it go.” Felicia mused, looking over her daughter's face in thought. A soft, not very in-tune hum sounded from Connol, pulling Felicia’s eyes to him. 

“That one?” Felicia beamed up at him with a nod. “Popular amongst our parents huh?” 

“What else is there to do besides get crafty when Topside locks you completely out?” Felicia muttered, eyes squinting a bit in further thought before her whole face lit up once more on a small gasp. “Oh! Got it!” And she began singing the lyrics to the tune Connol had started. Her voice was beautiful and instantly caught the attention of Vi, who was rightfully transfixed with it. 

A deep, buried part of you knew you’d heard it before. A deep part of you that didn’t even feel like it was supposed to be you, but it was there nonetheless. It remembered you of that tugging, calling you’d followed to save all those kids years ago. 

It was something that scared you. That made you feel--other. Other than human. Other than a living breathing being and more like a cold, watery thing that was called around by the arcane.

You instantly snuggled deeper into Silco’s chest, needing to be reminded that you were in fact, standing there with him. To feel him hold your physical body that was breathing. That was living. 

Silco was glad to hold you closer. Glad to move his hand around to find yours, intertwining his long fingers with yours. 

“Lullabies get you nowhere.” Sevika hissed, stubbing out the small bit of her blunt left in the ashtray before her. “Our parents were cowards.” 

“Good thing we aren’t.” Silco gave your hand a squeeze. 

Your grip on Silco’s hand tightened as you yanked him sharply behind a few stacked crates on the Undercity’s side of the river. It seemed that blocking the bridges off hadn’t been enough, they had needed to send enforcers patrolling the wharf as large spotlights illuminated the surrounding areas in search of any that might be trying to cross.

You two had expected there might be a stray enforcer or two. That you would have to work fast as soon as Vander joined you to get across in case someone spotted you. 

But this many enforcers--it was as if you had kicked a bee hive and sent all their drones on high alert. 

You hadn’t expected this and Silco definitely hadn’t, otherwise it would have been put into his plan. A plan that was currently going way off course. So off course it had made Silco’s caltualting brain freeze, nearly getting him spotted by one of those enforcers had you not dragged him back here. 

You’d known Silco to freeze up like this before. Mainly during jobs you two and Vander did Topside that didn’t go as planned. 

He froze when he was scared too. Vander had told you of his worry about it a while ago. How it’d almost gotten him killed down in the mines during cave-ins. 

You thought it was cute. Gave you something you could do for him. Had let you get close to him before you two caved to your feelings.

“Gods--” Silco gave a frustrated little sound as you slowly peeked around the crates, finding a group of three enforcers had stopped just a little ways away from you. “I--sorry.” You waved the apology off as one of the enforcers started complaining about how she was going to miss the game tonight cause she was stationed here.

“Ugh--I’ll never get over how fucking dull Pilties are.” You murmured, pulling back to a crouch before Silco, who you’d all but thrown against the crates, long legs sprawled to the sides and hair scrunched against the salt-stained wood. “It’s like they’re programmed to all think and talk about the same shit. Oh yes, let's go toss that egg-shaped ball and give each other concussions. Or, or! The spouse is nagged at me to lose some weight again. And blah, blah, blah.” You gave a goofy smile Silco’s way, to which he only continued to stare up at you nearly dumbfounded. 

“I--you know I almost just got us caught right?” Silco pulled himself up a bit from his thrown position. “I froze.” You shrugged.

“And? It would have been fun, huh?” You shuffled closer so that you could lean closer to him. “High stakes. Fast chase. We would have beat them obviously.” The corner of Silco’s lips pulled upward. A small tug that pulled into that easy smile you liked to see him look at you with.

He dug his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and as he pulled it out, the smallest flash of gold caught your eye. 

You thought for a moment he had pulled the flask you had given him out, but what he held was too small and easily concealed within his palm. 

“What do you have?” You asked, shuffling ever closer. “Something shiny.” Silco gave a small exhale of amused air.

“How did you even see that?” You shrugged.

“I like gold. I like shiny. I like shiny gold. I’ve trained my eyes to spot it.” Silco gave another small chuckle.

“You remember the second time you, me, and Vander snuck our way Topside? Back when we were kids?” You nodded, eyeing up his fist to try and spy what he held within it one last time. 

“You convinced Vander that going to the beach was a risk worth taking after the job we pulled.” You mused and you thought of those beaches. How clean they had been. How the waters, even though they were connected to the same grand sea, had sported not a single speck of trash. How the sands had been yellow-white and full of the most gorgeous shells you had ever seen. 

It was found memory for you, being able to see such beautiful waters, but a memory tinted in bitterness towards the people who wished to rule over you all completely. 

Your beaches and waters were nothing like theirs, even when they were so close. Even when they were made from the same lands and waters. Yet yours were full of toxins so potent it left stains on a person if left in them too long. That corrupted one's body--ate away at it. Toxins so strong they had left the sandy beaches a pitch black. 

You loved your waters, but seeing how--natural everything was Topside had left a sour taste in your mouth.

“And you remember that small sand dollar you found and I foolishly broke?” The anger at Piltover simmered in the background of your mind as Silco continued to recount the trip. “Instead of getting upset, you gave me a half. Said it would be a physical showing of our friendship.” 

“I do remember.” You nodded, though your heart sank a small bit. “I--Silco, I lost my half.”

“No, you didn’t.” You blinked at him. Then again. 

“How would you--”

“I might have snuck into your apartment…took it off your bedside table.” You gapped at him. 

“How--Sevkia would have killed you if she had seen you break in.” Silco tossed you a cocky little smirk. 

“You two don’t get off work till seven. I get off at five. I had time. And you really should change the hiding place for your spare key. Very obvious.” You rolled your eyes and gave his shoulder a small shove. 

“You gonna give me my half back?” You held your hand out, palm side up as you gave your fingers a little wiggle. 

Silco opened his hand to reveal what he had been hiding from you. It was the two halves of sand dollar, but small, delicate holes had been made to the tops to fit a gold bail in each. Brown leather had been threaded through that to create a pair of matching necklaces. And to top it all off, small, golden charms had been added as well. Two seahorses. 

“Nikolai put them together for me. Made the charms.” You ran your fingertip gently over the half you knew to be yours. 

“And did Nadia know?” You found Silco’s eyes again, but he shook his head.

“Nearly killed the man trying to keep it a secret from his wife…but we all know Nadia is worse at keeping secrets than even you.” He teased. 

“I only don’t keep them from you. Never felt right.” Silco’s seafoam eyes filled in that warm softness he only ever showed you. 

“I wanted to give this to you earlier in apology for my behavior but…I was--nervous.” You nodded in agreement knowing you had felt those very same overwhelming nerves too. You ran your fingers from the rough sea dollars to feel over the heel of his palm. “I am glad you broke our silence. It was eating me alive.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t break it sooner. I was nervous too.” Silco gave you a smile that was just as warm as his eyes were. A smile, though not toothy as others might give, was the most breathtaking smile you had ever seen. Would ever see.

“I was thinking you’d wear my half and I’d wear yours.” He started, grabbing up the half that was his. A half that was a bit more jagged and held a long, oval hole in its side. “In way of showing our friendship, yes, but also in promise we’ll be there for each other. You once told me seahorses mate for life…” You nodded as he reached to clasp the necklace around your neck. “Well…I wish that for us. For us to be together. Side by side. For as long as you’ll have me.” 

His words hit you like a brick. Words that filled your chest in such excitement and warmth you didn’t know what to do with it all. A happiness that made your cheeks sting from the wide smile your lips refused to let go of. 

“I’ll have you.” You took your side of the necklace from Silco’s palm, seafoam eyes tracking your every move as you clasped it around his own neck. “I’ll have you for a long, long time. Till we’re old and wrinkled and can’t make it down the stairs.” You pulled a small chuckle from Silco as you let your fingers trace the skin of his collarbone, right where the sand dollar lay. 

“I was miserable when we fought.” You continued, “All I wanted to do was talk with you. Be with you. I don’t see that changing any time soon. You make me happy. I want to be by your side for a long, long time. I hope we can hold on to each other like seahorses do against rough currents.” 

Silco’s fingers brushed over your cheek, holding it so tenderly in his palm as he looked at you like you were some rare gem hidden amongst dull rock and coal. 

“I’ll hold on. Face whatever is to come as long as I have you by my side.” You nodded in utter agreement as he pulled you ever closer. 

“Head on, right?” The pointed tip of Silco’s nose fluttered over yours, an amused huff of air puffing against your skin.

“Yes, head on. Together.” Slightly caped lips pressed sweetly against yours. Lips that moved against yours, turning your mind to pleasant mush in your skull. Lips that swept the whole world away like some storming sea. Lips you thought about so much, it might have become an addiction.

“Boy, am I glad you two are finally together.” You and Silco jumped at the deep voice that sounded hushly in your ears. 

Teeth clanked and noses squished together in both your startled natures, faces whipping around to find the larger form of your friend kneeling there beside you two.

“What in--how long have you been there?” Silco venomously hissed at Vander who kept on watching you with an all-too-happy grin on his lips.

“Just got here.” He sounded not at all bothered by the bite in Silco’s tone. Though you knew Vander was more than used to the sharp way his brother spoke. “Ya know, from the moment Silco rushed to save you from those carp-brained idiots from the docks, I knew he was smitten with you. Could tell you’d been smitten with him long before that.” You couldn’t help the giddy little laugh that spilled from your lips.

“I mean--how couldn’t I have been?” You grabbed Silco’s nose gently between your index and middle finger, giving it a small shake. “Look at him. I was a goner as soon as I laid eyes on him.” Silco huffed grumpily, shooing your hand away as that dusting of pink you loved made another appearance. A dusting that turned into a splash of red when Vander gave a little too loud a laugh for your surroundings. 

You three tensed at the sound of voicing of too-close enforcers. Before any officers could come to snoop around the crates you were heading behind, you three slipped through the long shadows the spotlights cast around and found cover behind a dumpster in a smelly alleyway. 

“Place is with swarming with bucket heads, huh?” Vander voiced as Silco peeked his head around a bag of trash. 

“They’re taking what happened at the bridge more seriously than I originally thought they would,” Silco mumbled, tracking a pair of enforcers that walked past the alley. 

“Who knows what they told their fancy pants council.” You hissed, “Probably tried to cover their asses. Tell them we took the first shot.” 

“Once Nikolai is outta there and safely back down here, then we’ll push them back Topside,” Vander said. That’s when you noticed what he’d been carrying around with him. What he had taken so long to get before meeting you two here. 

His pair of mining gauntlets. 

He was ready to fight. Oh he was more than ready. The wolf had overtaken his gentle eyes. Eye now fully committed and bloodthirsty to the revolution you all had been dreaming about. 

“How are we gettin’ across, sweetheart?” You glanced back to Silco who was already looking back to you. He gave you a small, steadfast nod in reassurance. 

“Okay--promise not to freak out?” You started as you began unscrewing the top of the canteen of water you kept attached to your belt. Vander’s brows furrowed in confusion at your words. 

“Freak out? What would I freak out about?” You sighed dramatically. 

“Just promise.” You insisted, a flicker of amusement pulling at Vander’s features. 

“Okay, okay. I promise.” You watched him for a second longer before grabbing for the water within the canteen with your magic. You pulled a flowing line of water from its metal confines, letting it twirl and twist around in the space between you and Vander. 

And Vander looked--pale. Like he was gonna freak out. 

“Oh--shit.” He muttered. 

“You promised not to freak out.” Your heart hallowed out as he continued to look so utterly shell-shocked. You unconsciously pulled your waters closer, allowing them to snake around your fingers. 

“I’m not.” 

“Are too.” You quickly shot back. 

“Did--Silco knew?” Vander asked, looking towards his brother who had pressed his shoulder against yours.

“Of course I knew.” Silco sounded almost proud of this fact. That he had been the only one to know for so long. 

“He stumbled upon me throwing those carp-brain idiots into the harbor with it. I probably wouldn’t have told him if he hadn’t seen me do it. People and the arcane don’t like to mix.” Vander continued to watch you. Watch the waters you were nervously pressing into a ball between your hands. “Are you--scared? Do you--I wish you would say something.”

“Sorry--I--sorry. It’s just--no. No, I’m not scared.” Vander started, though it did nothing to help ease your fears. “I’m shocked is all. This is--you don’t see this every day.” You nodded in understanding. 

Something like two pieces of a puzzle seemed to click together in his mind. “You--when that pipe burst in the Drop but the water somehow found a way to stay in a nice pool instead of flooding the whole place. That was you?” 

“Yep.” Vander’s face finally broke from that stillness and a cheery smile pulled to his lips. 

“Damn, sweetheart. You saved our asses that night. Wish I could have thanked you.” You shrugged.

“Just wanted to get back to sleep.” Vander gave a chuckle.

“Did you also explode that drink in Benzo’s hand when he wouldn’t lay off the shit?” You gave a mischievous little smirk. 

“Guilty.” Vander shook his head, recognition catching on to another memory.

“You did the same thing to Felicia too, huh? When she--” You quickly shot the water in your command at Vander’s face, keeping him from going on about that night. 

Only the second night Felicia had hung around your group. Another night she and Slico couldn’t seem to stop their endless flirting together. You didn’t think the sip or two left in her cup would ruin anyone’s night completely if it was shot all over her face. 

“Alrighty. We’ve wasted enough time going on and on about memories.” Vander pulled a hand from one of his gauntlets to wipe the water you splashed in his face off. He gave you an all too cheeky look, telling you he knew exactly why you wanted to keep him quiet about it around Silco. 

“Alright, alright. Lay it on me.” He chuckled. 

You and Silco laid the plan out for him carefully before you three were starting for the river once more. 

“And they were roommates.”

“Gods--they were roommates?” A pair of enforcers gossiped from where they stood by a street lamp, guns lowered as they gossiped about whatever Piltie drama they had going on. 

Just as a beam of light from one of the spotlights up on the bridge moved past them, you collected another ball of water from your canteen and sent it hurtling towards some fish crates further away. The wood crashed to the ground, sending the enforcers rushing off to investigate. 

You three were quick to rush for the waters, you sprinting ahead so you would be in the water to catch your friends when they jumped in themselves. 

When your feet hit the edge of the wharf, you pushed your body out and downward in a nice, streamline dive. Air rushed around your skin before being replaced with cold water that flowed around you as you curved your body around and back upward. 

Just as you broke the surface, you heard a shout. A shout that did not belong to either Silco or Vander and definitely belonged to an enforcer. One that had spotted the two men just as they were jumping off the edge. 

One enforcer turned into two that turned into a whole horde rushing about on land, calling at you three. Commanding you to stop. To come back inland. 

Vander was the first to hit the water, his large form and gauntlets making a huge splash that sprayed back up at the enforcers who’d just made it to the edge. 

Silco hit the water, seafoam eyes catching yours and showing you the trust he held in you just before he vanished beneath the surface. 

The sound of guns being cocked and warnings to come back before they would fire rang through your ears. 

A spotlight found you and the sinking boys as guns rose a bit higher. 

You summoned your magic to dance through your veins and over your fingertips. Felt the waters around you flow faster and faster as you smiled wickedly up at the enfocers watching you. 

Water rose on your command, roaring around you as it grew and grew into a wave much larger than any river could have created on its own. Just as you sent it hurtling toward the now screaming and terrified enforcers, you dove into the depths of after your friends. 

You found Vander had grabbed hold of Silco, both trying to swim back to the surface but failing horribly. Even though you had taught Vander to swim, he still wasn’t strong enough to carry a whole other person and support himself in the water.

You sent your magic to flow around them both, holding them in a gentle cradle before beginning to quickly pull them further down and across the river. 

You shot through the water with ease after them, catching up to Silco first. He grabbed hold of your wrist as you created a small air bubble around his head. A bubble that funneled thinly upwards to provide fresh air for him to breathe the whole way. 

Silco gave a deep inhale of air, eyes wide and scanning over your face as he pulled you closer. You allowed it, quickly dipping your face into his bubble to rest your forehead against his. 

“Okay?” You asked as Silco nodded against your skin.

“Yes.” You titled your face so that you could place a small kiss to the tip of his nose.

You pulled away from him then, gliding the sort distance to Vander who was looking a little more panicked than Silco had been. You made quick work of creating his air bubble, Vander giving a sharp curse as he gulped down air. With a sheepish little sorry face and a pair of thumbs up, you swam away, body moving through the water like a human-shaped dolphin. 

Your magic kept Silco and Vander close by as you swam them across the river. Fish drew to you like you were a magnate, which was a typical occurrence when you were within or sailing on a larger body of water like this. They came and tickled at your cheeks as they brushed against you in their way of a hug. 

“Are you a mermaid?” Vander asked from just a little bit behind you. You found him watching you in stunned curiosity, while Silco was watching you in that warmly soft way he often did. A way that made your stomach flutter like a group of minnows had swum within its lining. You created a small air bubble for yourself so that you could respond.

“Ha. No. I wish. I’d get a kick-ass tail if I was.” You grazed your fingers over a gray-scaled fish, it moving closer as if it was some waterbond cat. 

“Then--what are you?” He asked as a look filled his eyes. A looked those kids you had saved years ago had given you too. A look filled with awe. In wonder. In a yearning for something beyond comprehension. 

It was a look that made you feel not human. 

You instantly regretted showing him your magic. Instantly wished to dive deeper into the depth just to get away from that look.

“She’s human, Vander. A born mage.” Silco spoke, coming to your defense and taking that look from Vander’s eyes. 

“Oh--yeah. Of course. Just curious.” You gave him a small smile in understanding. One that turned into that of utter gratefulness as you looked back to Silco. He smiled gently for you, fingers moving within the small current your magic was creating as if he might reach for you. You almost reached for him too, but you kept swimming onward.

The other side of the river came upon you in the passing of a few more minutes. You surfaced, leaving the boys below in case of an ambush. 

It was quiet Topside. Not a single enforcer marching up and down the wharf. No spotlights or gates. The bridge seemed to have been unattended this side of the river. All you found was a sleepy stretch of cobblestone and buildings far nicer than anything the fissures had to offer. 

It made you worry. 

You had made a show of using your power against those enforcers. A mistake in using them so blatantly, but you knew if you hadn’t, those guns would have been fired and they would have hit you or worse--your friends. 

The enforcers should have been on high alert over here in anticipation of your arrival…

Maybe they just believed you drowned in that wave. Maybe they thought it had been a natural occurrence and you’d been swept away in it. That the boys had sunk to the bottom of the river never to see the sky again.

You glanced over your shoulder back towards your stretch of home. 

Spotlights still roamed the land and waters. You could just vaguely make out enforcers rushing about over there, still in a panic over you three slipping past. 

Maybe they just haven’t had time to get over here yet and in that case, you all needed to move fast. 

You pulled the boys to the surface, keeping them cradled in your waters until you had placed their feet on the ground Topside. Using your magic to push you onto land, you were quick to grab for Silco’s hand. He grabbed it back just as you were opening your mouth to tell them of your thoughts when light blinded you. 

The sound of armor clanking and voices shouting filled your ears and you knew instantly you had led your friends into an ambush. You knew just how foolish you had been in thinking they wouldn’t have alerted their people over here. 

“Put your weapons down and your hands in the air. Slowly.” Your eyes adjusted to the light to find you had been surrounded by enforcers, guns aimed straight at you all. 

Silco’s hand was tight in yours. A tightness that became slightly tugging, like we was trying to slowly bring you behind him.

Vander’s gray eyes found yours. Then they found Silcos.

Hard eyes. Determined eyes. Eyes that seemed to be begging for a fight.

“I said--” A blur shot at the head enforcer. Metal slammed into his face so hard, you saw teeth and blood fly. 

Vander had been that blur. Those gauntlets of his looking more wicked than any knife or gun the way he was attacking. Attacking any and all enforcers that he laid eyes on.

A gun booming to life and the heated air of a buttle narrowly missing your face spurred you into action. Silco let go of your hand just as you let go of his, the both of you grabbing for the knives strapped to your sides and hurling yourself into the fray.

Your body twisted and weaved and sliced through an enforcer. 

Then another and another and--

A gun was slammed sideways into your face, pain screaming through your nose as it gave a sickening crunch. Pain that you snarled and bit back against before you were cutting down that enforcer. 

Your fist slammed into another oncoming enforcer's jaw just as a body slammed into yours. 

Skin broke upon impact with the cobblestone. A fist pounded into your temple, momentarily turning your vision blurry as you roared and reached blinding for the body on top of yours. You grabbed a fist full of hair and pulled with all your strength, causing the enforcer to shout.

Another wild fist hit you in the shoulder as you yanked her downwards, rolling so you could jam a knee into her stomach to keep her pinned down. 

You had just raised your fist to attack when a gun was pressed against your throat, yanking you back and off of the enforcer, the tightness enough to sharply cut your air supply off. 

You gagged and gasped, fingers fumbling to try and alleviate the pressure when your eyes caught sight of Vander. 

An enforcers had jumped onto his back. Then another. And another and another until Vander was brought to his knees under the weight of them all. A new wave of enforcers appeared to point their guns at him, shouting commands and threats his way. 

You found Silco a little ways away, sprawled on his back, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead as two enforcers pointed their guns directly at his heart. 

Their fingers tightened on their triggers. 

Their eyes--they were getting ready to fire. 

Seafoam's eyes frantically glanced around the wharf. Eyes that found yours. Eyes that were--remorseful. Apologetic and full of the gentle softness he only ever showed you.

And you knew then he knew there was little to no chance of escape from the guns pointed at him. 

You sucked in as much air as you could around the pressure against your throat and gave a ragged scream into the night air. 

You felt the waters in the river roar in answer. Felt the waters between the cobblestone cracks answer. The water in the pipes and fountains answers. Felt them begin to swirl and rise and rage. 

Your blood boiled. 

Your vision blurred. 

Your ears filled with ringing so loud it drowned out your friends and the enforcers before you. 

Seaform eyes smiled.

Silence washed through your ears--through your being. 

Ba-dum…ba-dum…ba-dum…

A heartbeat rang through your mind. A fastened one. One that was beating heavily against the activity it was doing.

It was a sound your magic cocked its head at in curiosity. A sound that faded out into soft roaring…like a flowing river. 

Water.

It was water you were hearing. Water that called to you to take and command. Water you did just that too. 

The enforcer behind you gave a pained sound. A sound that spurred you to push those strange waters harder. To make them rise and rise until the enforcer was dropping their gun to the ground. 

You found them on the ground, clawing at their throat as they gasped for air. Found their eyes watering and pooling over. Waters that bubbled from their nose and ears and mouth. Waters that ran red.

And you pushed it higher until they slumped over, the light having left their eyes. 

“What the fuck!” An enforcer nearby shouted. “Holy shit! By the gods! You--You’re a frea--” You grabbed hold of the strange waters flowing within his veins. Watched him panic at the relation that he was next. Watched him run and scream in pain and trip over his own feet.

You watched as those waters poured out of him in the same manner as his comrade.

You watched him drown on dry land. 

And you should have found it sickening. The hollowness gnawing at your senses should have told you that. The warning bells that rang through your mind. 

These were not your waters to command.

These waters belonged to those enforcers and those enforcers alone. Just as Nadia’s blood you had struggled to control had been hers.

It was something you were never supposed to have power over. 

It wasn’t a part of you. 

Not like how the waters in the river were a part of you. In the streams and pipes. 

It wasn’t you.

That chilling hollowness pushed your body forward. Had your powers latching onto the two enforcers who had been a hairs width away from ending Silco’s life. You commanded these dark waters once more with little care about whether they were yours or not. Not when these people were trying to kill your family. 

You raised your other hand towards the enforcers holding Vander down as the two began to drown before Silco’s eyes. You commanded their waters and watched them claw and cry and scramble before they joined their comrades. 

Vander was quick to his feet, eyes wide as he gazed upon you. 

Fear. 

That hollowness hardly let you register it though. Not when your magic felt more enforcers rushing your way. Enforcers you stopped in their tracks with a daggered glare their way. 

You felt--powerful. 

More powerful than you’d ever felt.

It felt sinnful but gods it was near addicting. An addiction you wanted to cave into as you set your sights onto the bridge just a few feet away. 

You felt as if you could go up there and end it all. 

Felt as if you were strong enough to march through the streets of Piltover, find their foolish councilmen and just end their terrible reign.

That hallowness laughed in agreement with you. It egged you on. Told you to take that first step. Had your feet moving towards the bridge. Moving past Silco who was still sat, watching you slinetly. 

He called your name quietly as the winds blew through the streets. 

He called your name as the winds rushed around you.

He called your name and The Winds called it too. 

“Stop.” The Winds commanded. 

Your feet kept moving. Your veins boiled and pounded screaming out for more, more, more.

The Winds whipped around you like a tempest. 

Your vision blurred and black dots danced in their corners. 

When had it gotten so hard to breathe? You wondered and yet that dark energy kept pushing and pushing until those dots overtook you.

“You don’t know what you’ve meddled in, little one.” 

Your eyes flew wide at the voice. One you hadn’t heard for years. One you thought abandoned you and everyone in the Lanes.

You stood and you felt your throat tightened. 

You were no longer on the wharf. 

You were no longer in reality. 

Endless sky. 

Endless night. 

Stars twinkled and galaxies bloomed silently before, upbove, and below you. 

And you--you weren’t you--

Your waters whirled over your skin. Was your skin--your body. 

A strangled sound pulled from whatever strange mouth you possessed in the horror of it all. 

You were--you must be dead. That was the only explanation for this all. 

“You have not died.” That voice spoke again. You snapped around to find your guardian and--terror gripped your soul. 

A begin made of gold and white and wind floated before you. One with wings sprouting from its arms and hips. One with bird's feet and clawed hands. One whose face was smooth gold with a halo of that same gold circling over its head to match. 

“You’re--you’re an angel.” You croaked out in horror. The angel shook its featureless head, gliding closer to you.

“I am Janna. As you know…though--also as you don’t.” Her wings gave a ruffle as if saying you’d never seen her this way. 

“Janna--no--I--where are we?” You were beginning to panic. To freak out. 

“Do not be afraid.” She tried to soothe. 

“Fuck--FUCK! Don’t be afraid? What the hell am I supposed to feel?” The being--Janna--gave another ruffle of her wings. 

“Feelings have little to do with this. You have touched powers that do not belong to you.” You’re throat only continued to tighten. It was so tight you thought you might suffocate right then and there. “Those souls were not yours to take.” 

“Souls--you mean those enforcers?” Janna didn’t move. You would have said she was just watching you if she had had any eyes to watch you with. “The ones that had been trying to kill me? Kill Silco and Vander? I was protecting the people I love.” Janna again was silent. Was again unmoving. 

You gave a frustrated growl, whatever fists you had balling. 

You’re fear--oh, it was turning into anger. An anger Janna and Janna alone could only ever bring out in you.

“You know what--screw this. Where the hell have you been? It’s been four years.” Your waters flared around in answer to your rising emotions.

“It’s been…four years?” Janna repeated slowly. “Truly?”

“Fuck!” You hissed. “You are meant to protect us! You. And you can’t even bother to know how long you’ve been gone!” You took a step closer to the floating spirit who looked more like a god in that moment. “Where have you been? Why have you been gone?” 

“I’ve been guiding the heart and mind of an interesting young woman. One whose battle with the Gray aligns with my own. I’ve been overseeing her progress.” You scoffed. Scoffed and couldn’t help the pinch your heart gave. 

Some young woman? Some random girl? Someone who wasn’t you? You were Janna’s ward.

“If you can’t get rid of the Gray, no one can.”

“She will keep it at bay within these���vents as she calls them.” You just watched her in utter--shock. In anger and rage and wrath. Oh you were pissed. 

“Let me out.” Janna’s feathers ruffled. “Let me out of whatever fucked up purgatory you have me in right now,” Janna said your name like a warning. 

“I brought you here because you went beyond your realm’s limits.” 

“I don’t give a shit. Let me out!” Your waters began to swarm around you. Faster and faster they whirl. 

Wind whipped after it. Wind that tried to grab hold of you and keep you in this horrid place. 

“The Arcane is our master. We are not masters of it. You challenge it, it will destroy you.” Janna called around the roar of wind and water. 

Stars began to move. 

Galaxies. 

Everything was swirling wildly around in the tornado the Winds and Waters created. 

“You hurt another creature we are meant to preside over,” Janna continued, “and I will stop you.” 

And there she was. 

The Janna you had known your whole life. The strange, wispy elven being who had raised you. Whose glowing eyes seemed to--no…no you’re mind was play tricks on you but…they looked to be begging you to stop. To forget the dark power you had tipped your toes into. 

It was emotion in her glowing eyes. Emotion she could not and had not ever shown you before. 

“Do not make me go against you.” She all too calmly spoke. 

Light cracked through the starry sky like the shattering of a mirror. Light that spread and spread till it began to engulf you and Janna whole. 

“You will not win.” 

It was dark. Dark and…smelled like a homemade meal. 

The ground beneath you was carpeted. Soft. 

There was something solid next to you. A body. A body that’d slung an arm around your waist to keep you down. You felt your body tense at the realization. That you didn’t know where you were or who was caging you in place. 

You readied yourself for a fight. To get up quickly when a sleep-filled voice you knew in seconds spoke, “You’re awake.” Silco’s voice instantly had you relaxing into his hold. Relaxing and realizing just how much pain you were in. 

The fight on the wharf. You’d been beaten. Bad and your body was definitely feeling it.

“Where are we?” You whispered back. Silco shuffled closer to you, nuzzling his face against your head. 

“We found Nikolai and his friend was kind enough to let us lay low here for the night.” You made a small hum at his words but said nothing further. You couldn’t. Because past the pain roaming through your body, you felt--numb. Strange. Different. 

“Are you in pain?” Silco asked. 

“Yes.” You felt his body ready to get up, but you were quick to grab hold of his arm, keeping him down. “Just--it’s okay…can you just…hold me.” Silco hesitated at your request. “Please?” You breathed. 

Silco gave a small sigh from his nose but settled back against you, his arm now holding you very so gingerly.

You two lay in the dark for a long moment. You listened to his even breaths in your ear. Enjoyed the warmth of it over your skin. Tried to let it take that strange…nothingness ringing in your chest away but…but it was stuck there. Stuck like it was held there with super glue.

Silco whispered your name in question against the shell of your ear. You nodded in answer. 

“Are…are you okay?” 

Janna’s words rang in your mind. Her promises of fighting you and of her sureness in winning. 

You thought of that emotion that had broken over her ever-emotionless face. 

She--she had been scared. Saddened and disappointed all in one.  

And it rattled you more than you had expected. Left you wondering if you should listen. If that taste of power you had felt was worth making her look like that.

If that taste of power was worth this strange numb feeling in your chest. Worth feeling less than human. 

But that power…gods had it felt good. 

Too good. 

“I…don’t know.” You answered honestly, finally moving to turn your face into his chest despite your body barking at you in pain. Silco held you tightly, fingers moving over your back in soothing circles. “Are…” You swallowed sharply against the tightness that seemed to have carried over from that strange world. “Are you scared of me?” The question was hardly even a whisper. A breathy thing. A scared thing. 

You didn’t want him to fear you. Didn’t want him to look at you like those enforcers had. Like Vander had.

“No.” Silco quickly said. So quickly it had almost overpowered your own words. “I would never be scared of you.” 

You laid still in his arms for a long moment. Let his firm, unwavering words settle over you. Let them help carry that numbness away…try to carry it away. “Seahorses… remember.” You nodded once more as he kissed the top of your head.

“Seahorses.”

Previous | Next

[lususnatura]

i just have one more thing to say about him before i go to sleep, and that's this: i've been thinking about making blamore an herbalist that's partially self-taught + also had asked someone to also teach him about it and i think i'm going to do it. because i think it would really fit for his character, since blamore would likely do it as a way to try to find out ways to ease its own pain (particularly his nerve pain) at first. but... all i can imagine now is blamore stumbling across someone's muse in the event that they are friends and them being injured / in pain.

and as a result, it would want to try to help alleviate them of their suffering; so if they had burns and/or cuts, then he'd rub a herbal salve into their skin where it was affected to help treat them. and maybeee he'd give them a bath or something in yarrow if they had a fever because it has been shown to have REALLY good anti-pyretic (anti-fever) abilities. so i basically just imagined it trying to nurse them back to health at least a little bit, and i 😭 i'm putting this on my wishlist on here now because this is just too damn sweet albeit in an angsty way to not do so. but of course, if they were like on death's door or something, then it would definitely just be using some of these herbal cures in the meantime until he could get an medical doctor out there like nico to help them. but it's the thought that counts in the end

[swagging-back-to]

L is fucking heinous and DESERVED TO DIE SOONER!

[hauntingblue]

Pluton lore: it can be used to make islands disappear. But why would crocodile want that

Zoro no learning that a swordsman is worth nothing if he can only attack and can't protect... yeah yeah yeah

Water luffy is so silly but makes so much sense like this is how we got to gear 5... also robin laughing.... this is where she thought she might join... like at least she will laugh with them. Also crocodile gets mad right after so it works to rile him up too!! Magnificent plan luffy

[tonycries]

AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! - G.S.

Synopsis. When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.

Pairing. Rich boy! Gojo Satoru x Sugar baby! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, jealous Satoru, créampie, dirty talk, manhandling, marking, Satoru’s dad is not really present, oral (female receiving), overstim, másturbation (male), thigh riding, cúmplay, Satoru is really really down bad and filthy for you, CEO’s son! Gojo,  pet names, swearing.

Word count. 8.1k

A/N. Will proofread later, lowkey scared to post this, but I just wanted it out of my mind. And in my mind, Satoru’s dad is FINE asl so-

The first time you meet Gojo Satoru is when you’re all dolled up for his father. 

Designer dress just a bit too tight, running on a few too many shots of tequila, wanting to be anywhere but at this stuffy gala. Everything was too bright - too polished.

And it really didn’t help that no matter how many scathing looks or whispers that followed you, you just had to be here - it was in your contract, after all. Because luckily for you, you just so happened to be the infamous little plaything hanging off the arm of the head of Gojo Corporations.

Well, usually. Right now your sugar daddy was too busy entertaining his business partners, leaving you off to the side, praying for something - anything - to save you from this-

“Damn if I’d come to these shitty galas a lot more often if it meant I’d get to see a beauty like you.”

You jolt out of your bored little reverie, eyes immediately snapping up to meet the tall man suddenly in front of you. When did he even get so close? 

You can’t help but drink him in from head to toe, from the overpriced, slightly-disheveled suit to the tiny dimple at the end of his mischievous grin. Strangely familiar white locks fell effortlessly to curtain his eyes. Eyes that were a startling blue - the kind of blue that had your cheeks flaring and knowing exactly who this was. 

Oh.

At your silence, he tilts his head with the air of someone that owns this entire venue and everything in it because, well, he did. Twinkling gaze searing into your skin as it roams appreciatively all over your body, plowing on, “Though, you look like you’re on the verge of an aneurysm around these old coots.”

You sigh, pinching your nose at the curious glances around you. Not even able to find it in yourself to put on that plastic smile anymore, “Oh y’know, just soaking up my popularity with the masses after being stranded here.”

“Oh? Here with anyone?”

“Yeah.” you blurt out, “Your father.”

You watch in amusement as Satoru’s mouth falls into a delicate oh! eyes flickering over his shades between you and the handsome man on the other end of the venue, oblivious and fully enjoying himself in the company of his secretary. A bit too much without you. 

“Y’know…” he starts, shaky and sounding only half the insufferable heir he was before, “I would say that’s a hilarious version of a ‘your mom’ joke but you’re actually serious, aren’t you?”

“Mhm. Though it would make a good punchline, huh?” You huff out a laugh at the way he was suddenly less of a smooth-talking playboy and more of a lost puppy. The gears turning in his head as he processes that oh shit you were the sweet lil’ thing his dad’s been suddenly rushing off to meet straight after work. And the reason why all those old fossils here were clutching their pearls in scandal.

He just didn’t expect you to be this…gorgeous. And for the first time in forever, he’s suddenly so intrigued.

Because ah, you should’ve known better than to think that this little hiccup would deter the infamous Gojo Satoru. No, in fact that million-dollar smirk only makes its way back onto his unfairly pretty face, like he’s about to spill the juiciest gossip of the century.  

“So you’re the latest armcandy my ol’ man has picked up, huh? I hafta say, dear old dad has good taste.” he muses, stepping in close enough that his expensive cologne makes your head spin. “Why don’t you and I ah-” You follow Satoru’s gaze to where he was staring at the way his father was now making a beeline through the crowd. Straight for the two of you. 

“Gotta run before I get my share of the company revoked.” he flashes you a quick smile, fulling intent on saving his father’s delicate ego. But not before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “But jus’ saying,” voice a pretty little purr, “I wouldn’t ever leave you standing here so alone and gorgeous, princess.”

You can only stand there, reeling from the sheer audacity as he darts into the crowd with a wink, not caring if he stepped on a few too many overpriced coattails than necessary. Wondering whether this was some bizarre dream induced by too much tequila and not enough common sense.

“Hi, sweetheart. Investors held me up, you know how it is. Having fun, huh?” A toned arm wraps around your waist as your sugar daddy finally arrives by your side. And as he went on about his latest business branch, only two thoughts ring through your mind - 1. You were seriously reconsidering this arrangement. And 2. This was going to be interesting. 

And oh was it interesting. 

Because Satoru always managed to find you, wherever you were. No matter if it was another droning function or a chance meeting at the sprawling Gojo Estate, Satoru always swooped in whenever his father was too busy for you. Which, fortunately for Satoru, happened to be a lot.  

Hell, he seemed to find you even when you least wanted him to. Like that time he had to drag you away mid-argument with a particularly rude one of his snobby aunts. That was not a fun family reunion. 

All unabashed confidence and pretty smiles where his father was cold, cold calculation. Ready with a smart mouth to bicker with you and bright eyes that seemed to linger on you a bit too long. But you didn’t mind - why would you? Because all things considered, Satoru was a very attractive man. Sure, his father was extremely handsome, too - in a clean-cut, DILF-y way, in fact. But his son was dangerously attractive.

So much so that sometimes when he swept you away from insufferable galas to talk, some strange little part of you wished it was him that you came here with instead. Just for a second. 

“So, what do you see in my father anyway? His company?” Satoru asked you one day. Draping himself over his cool office desk, so comically out of place in the stiff corporate room. Legs kicking in the air as he waits for your response.

You tear your eyes away from the way his biceps were straining so deliciously against his snug button-up to deadpan, “I mean, I am his sugar baby after all, Satoru.”

“But think about it,” he whines, batting those long lashes at you. Fully intent on driving you as dangerously close to a stroke as possible before his father finishes up an important business meeting. One that he missed - whoops. “There’s close to nothing redeemable about the man. His idea of a family bonding activity is a PowerPoint presentation on quarterly earnings.”

“Satoru.”   

“And either way- I’m getting the company in a few years, would ya be my sugar baby then, princess?”

Ah, there it was. 

It’s been a few weeks of knowing Satoru, and those little comments still made your head spin. Second-guessing the nature of this strange little…friendship? You didn’t even know anymore. Because yeah there might’ve been a few, stupid little lingering touches - like a trace on your hips, or your hand firmly in his as he led your (temporary) escape from another lonely gala. But those meant nothing, right?

“Nah, I’d poison you and take over the company instead.”

“Hey!”

Well, whatever, he was just your sugar daddy’s son. His sharp-mouthed, dangerously handsome son that just couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Not that you were complaining, really. Your relationship with his father was not exactly exclusive - you already knew that secretary of his was a bit suspiciously close - but that’s all he’ll ever be. Right?

Or, well, that’s what you stupidly thought. 

It wasn’t until one night late in the Gojo Estate, cursing those ridiculously long hallways, that you get an inkling of exactly how wrong you were. 

“Ugh, fucking rich people.” you mutter under your breath, wandering around trying to find whether the fuck the bathroom was. Because it doesn’t matter how many companies and businesses Gojo senior ran, the man still sucked at directions. You hiss, rubbing the tiny bruise on your neck - and aftercare too, clearly, even though that was in that damn contract. Something about an urgent business call with his secretary. Ugh. 

After three wrong doors, a trip around the in-home planetarium (seriously, who even needed that?), and chugging a full water bottle from the third kitchen in exhaustion, you finally find yourself walking towards what hopefully looked like the bathroom.

Hand reaching for the doorknob to swing it open. Ah, this better be the one or so help you-

Now, Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. And you - hair mussed, and dazed, standing there in nothing but a large button-up, falling just below your panties - looked like a sinfully beautiful lil’ demon here to lure him into hell. And oh how gladly he’d go if it means he got to see this ethereal view more often. 

“Ah! Wha- Sato-” 

You don’t even know if you want to scream or not - torn between taking in the sculpted chest smushed against your face and not wanting to alert security downstairs. Reeling backward you drink in the sight before you and God how you wish you didn’t - it wasn’t too good for your heart. 

Satoru’s hair was tousled, droplets of water glistening on his hair like diamonds. Skin soft and damp and smelling so delicious. Bathroom light bouncing off his rippling muscles, pecs flexing, as his strong arms reach out to steady you as you reel backwards. 

Traitorously, your eyes snake across his sculpted body. Dipping below once. Twice. Cheeks flaring as a pang of disappointment hits you at the damp towel wrapped around that slutty torso. Wondering what’s underneath-

“Y’should take a picture, it lasts longer.” Satoru grins, like the shameless bastard he is. Though he wasn’t in any better state - eyes flickering between you and any sliver of exposed skin his eyes could reach. 

“I should be saying the same to you.” you mutter, caught red-handed, shuffling your feet in embarrassment. 

Satoru lets out a low chuckle as he pulls you closer minutely, presence practically enveloping you. “Oh, me?” he says, voice dropping to a husky murmur. Thumb tracing that little spot on your neck, “S’hard not to when y’look so appetizing.”

And you don’t even try to pull away because fuck this is Satoru and he looks so good - so warm under your fingertips, even when you jolt at the realization of what exactly he was talking about. Your hand coming up to cover that tiny mark left on your skin from not-too-long ago. A shameful little reminder that this was his son. 

You grapple for some - any - sense of normalcy. Warning, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Satoru.”

He leans down impossibly, quirking an eyebrow. Both amusement and something unreadable flashing across his face. “Oh, but it’s got my father somewhere?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“Yes.”

You startle, taken aback by the blunt confession. So direct and something so Satoru. The word hands in the hair’s breadth between you two now, sending your mind reeling. And you can’t help but repeat, “Jealous?”

“Fucking yes.” There it was again. 

But this time, Satoru plows on, voice barely above a whisper but ringing in the thick air. “Jealous he gets to have you all to himself but still doesn’t kiss you like you should be.”

“What do you-”

“Your lipstick.” he interrupts, swiping a thumb over your bottom lip, “Why’s it as perfect as since you came in?” And, indeed, you realize with a jolt that no you really haven’t been kissed the way you wanted - not enough to leave your make-up so sinfully ruined. 

Minty breath fanning your face so dangerously now, and you barely even realize that you’re leaning into it, “If it were up to me, princess, I’d ruin that pretty lil’ lipstick of yours every chance I got.”

A delicious little shiver runs down your spine, head spinning at Satoru and his words and Satoru- And it’s all you can do to get out a shaky, “So why don’t you?”

And then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - like neither of you had the strength nor the will to stop. 

Satoru tasted just like candy, such an intoxicating sweetness that had you gasping as his soft tongue licked at the seam of your lips. Intertwining with yours as he breathes you in desperately. So sloppy. Such a sinful little mix of saliva and teeth and pure need.

His chest is soft under your greedy hands, lips searing against yours, and you could feel his hands wandering across every inch of skin they could find. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again because fuck he knows that he might just not. 

Long fingers dance delicately underneath that shirt to feel- oh fuck, you weren’t even wearing panties. Such a pretty lil’ slut and by God was he a goner. 

Groaning into the kiss, he lets you loop your arms around his neck, hardened nipples rubbing against his abs as you tug on his damp hair. Honestly, fuck that thin shirt, Satoru thinks he might just pass out right here right now.

“S-Satoru.” you whisper against his lips, legs hiking up to grind your bare cunt against the throbbing erection straining against his towel. Already so wet from water or precum, you had absolutely no idea. You couldn’t give less of a fuck in fact, needing to see if Satoru’s cock was as pretty as the rest of him right now. Hands urgently dipping below the hem, starting to tug and-

“Hey, sweetheart. Did you find the bathroom?”

Shit. Fuck. Wonderful - perfect, in fact.

You would’ve thought Satoru burned you with how quickly you pushed him away. Cheeks burning, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Almost slipping on the tile as you try to compose yourself at a safe distance - one that wouldn’t end up with you jumping his bones again. 

But all rational thoughts of that and your sugar daddy - Satoru’s father - almost go out the window once you take in the heavenly sight before you. 

Satoru’s lips swollen, hair disheveled, towel hanging slightly too low off his hips. Giving you such a pretty peak of those tufts of snowy white hair at the bottom. 

“W-we shouldn’t…” you trail off, as the footsteps get louder and louder. Something prickly and uncomfortable pooling in your stomach with each beat. 

Luckily for you, Satoru probably catches on to how you looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now. Voice low and control as he agrees, “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t.” No care in the world for his steadily approaching father as he lazily adjusts his towel, a gesture so nonchalant yet distracting. 

You swallow hard as he moves to walk past you, thinking that if this just so happened to be a dream then by God was it a good one. But of course - when has Satoru ever let you have it easy?

Because he stops abruptly in his tracks, fingers only ghosting the doorknob. Immediately turning back to walk to you with two, big steps, eyes gleaming, dimple flashing. And before you even know what’s happening, his lips are on yours. Featherlight and fleeting. But so so addictive. Nipping at your bottom lip, savoring you on his tongue.

It’s over before you know it, and a pathetic little disappointed whine leaves you as he pulls away. A smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he mutters lowly into yours, “Y’look prettier like this.”

Ah, you weren’t happy to see him leave but how you loved watching him go. Bathroom light so pretty against all the dips and curves of his figure as he walked away. White hair reflecting the warm hue, muscles flexing, hips slightly swaying with such a slutty little confidence that only Satoru could have. 

As you watch him disappear around the door, you almost forget the unwelcome visitor hot on your heels any second now and - wait - what was it that he’d said? “Prettier like this”?

Turning to the mirror and- 

Oh. Shit. 

You better have brought your make-up remover.

God, Satoru’s never ran to his room as fast as this since that time he was caught using his father’s elite golf clubs to play pool with Suguru.

Because as soon as that goddamn door is shut, he’s ripping his towel off. Letting it drop to the floor in a damp pile God-knows-where as he immediately fists his swollen cock.

With a groan, he leans against the shut door.  Eyes scrunching in such sinful ecstasy as he squeezes the base, pulsing and so achingly hard for you. A warning and a reprimand. Shit, how the fuck did he get this hard just from kissing your pretty lil’ lips?

Ah, whatever, right now he doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity to think too hard about it. Smearing the precum beading at his weeping tip, wetting his palm so sloppily. 

Neat little crescents searing into his skin where you’d grabbed him before, only thing on his mind - how would you do it?

Would you ease him into it? Or would you start up a hasty, desperate little pace like he was doing right now? Shallow, quick tugs on his thick cock like you wanted to milk him deliciously. 

Satoru’s hand was cold on his angry, hot cock. And with how many times he’s slipped his into yours, he knew yours would feel better around him. Both hands wrapped around his cock but still not covering all of it. So soft and warm, your nails scraping gently across his throbbing veins. 

“Shit. Hngh-” he breathes out, voice almost-pathetic, “J-jus’ like that, princess.” 

And what would you say? Tell him to shut up and just take it? Would you whisper into his ear as you let him fuck himself into your pretty fists? “So hard n’ big all f’me?” Satoru’s knees buckle at the thought, hand speeding up. “Y’look so pretty like this, y’know.”

Slam! Palm slamming against the poor drawer beside him hard enough to make its legs tremble, desperately trying to keep himself from collapsing. 

But oh his fist doesn’t stop. No, he doubts he ever will - not that strong of a man to keep himself from getting off so filthily to the image of you standing at the doorway of the bathroom. You looked so ethereal - Satoru couldn’t help but imagine how even more sinful you’d look if he was the one done with you. Shit, you wouldn’t even be able to stand if he had his way. 

“F-fuck, princess. M’gonna ruin you, gonna fuck you till you don’t know anything but m’name.”

He grips tighter on the base, thumbing under his slit in a way he knows your devious little hands would do. Fucked-out little grunts leaving his swollen lips each time his fingers meet his flushed tip.

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he mutters hoarsely, letting out a low, broken little call of your name. “More. Need more, princess.” He wanted you so badly that it hurt.

What the fuck did that sleazy old man have that he didn’t? And that little bite? That would be nothing compared to what Satoru would do if he got his hands on you. Yeah, he thinks, body shuddering violently, he’d mark you up till everyone knows you’re his. Leave bites that peak out from your collar, all the way down to your pretty thighs.

“Y’belong with me pretty, could fuck you so much better.” Sweat drips from his brow, splashing onto his erratic fist. Thighs quivering, heart pounding wildly in his chest. 

Satoru would almost be embarrassed by how desperate he was acting if he was in any better state of mind. Head only filled with you, and your hand and you-

And fuck for the sake of his sanity he can’t even begin to imagine how it would feel inside your pretty lil’ cunt. All he can think of is the way you’d keen so prettily, mewling out a little, “Oh s’too big.” 

Would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you milk his cock? Or would he have to ram his dick into you, because shit as much as he loves that  bitchy mouth, it would look so much better gasping and stuttering as he fucks you dumb. 

“Oh yeah.” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Such a good lil’ slut f’me. Taking m’so well.” 

God his hand was so sloppy on his dick that he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore. Just wanting to fuck you and have you do this f’him. 

Ah, your plushy walls would suck him in so nicely. One hand speeds up on his cock, while the other reaches down to cradle his balls. Tugging and pulling at the same jerky rhythm they would smack your ass while he stuffs you full. 

So much better than any other sugar daddy ever could. Oh how Satoru would love to mess up your pretty pussy and your lipstick. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on if he could.

And you’d be able to do nothing but gasp and whimper into his lips, cockdrunk and dazed, “Shit shit shit- Toru m’gonna - Hah- Wanna cum. Please wan’ cum-” Oh how he’d burn down this entire fucking world to hear you call him that. 

“Fuck,” he curses, bucking into his fist, tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, princess.”

“Cum f’me, Toru. Fill me up with y’cum- wanna take all of it.”

And then he’s cumming. 

A ragged, raw moan of your name leaving his lips. Thick, hot ropes of cum that should be painting your pussy white - but, alas, he’s spilling into his fist so shamefully. And amongst the stars behind his eyes he’s sees you - you you you-

You, fucking your cunt deeper onto his cock to take every drop of his cum. You, whispering sweet little praises as his seed gushes down your thigh, telling him that oh he’s doing so well, and he’s the best boyfriend ever and you already want more-

You, at the arm of his father.

Shit, he needs to shower. Again. 

---

Ever since that little incident that night, everything changed. 

At this point, you didn’t even feel that usual little bitterness whenever your sugar daddy canceled for some urgent business. And, well, it made you blush to admit but you found yourself heading over to the Gojo Estate more and more frequently, often just to catch a glimpse of Gojo - or a quick kiss in the stuffy broom closet. Whichever left you more time to run away from looming security and his father. 

But that was exactly the problem. 

Because no matter how thick the tension lingering in the air between you two was, nothing had gone past heated kisses and touches. Either you were brought back to reality with the possibility of being arrested for indecent exposure at those galas, or someone just had to interrupt. Seriously, with how many times Satoru has had to pay off his poor personal assistant, you’ve been wondering whether he actively seeks you two out. 

And it really didn’t help that Satoru always tasted so goddamn delicious. Fingers searing on your skin, cologne heavy in the heady air, it was hard to keep your hands to yourself. 

But, hey, desperate times bring devious measures.

Which is why you were here right now - sinking into the plushiest bed at the Gojo Estate, clad in your delicate light blue lingerie. One that was custom-made in this specific shade of blue. Because while your sugar daddy preferred you in red, you’re sure he wouldn’t mind you using his credit card for other ulterior motives, right? 

You just hoped that Satoru would just so happen to get a peak when you sneak out to use the bathroom later. What would he say? Would he like it? Would his eyes roam over your body, fingers twiddling with the flimsy lace?

But more importantly - would it be enough to make him break? Even if just a little bit?

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You’re startled out of your little whirlwind thoughts by knocking on the door. Steady, and matching your racing heart. Ah, Satoru’s father, you hastily get up to fix your hair.

“Yo, princess, are you naked or can I come in? Or can I come in when you’re naked?”

That wasn’t your sugar daddy. 

Not even thinking of your current outfit anymore, you rush to throw the heavy wooden doors open to see that, yes, it really was Satoru standing at the door. All bright grins and flushed cheeks as he drinks you in. Brows raising as his eyes move down from your face once. Twice. Thrice. 

Success. 

“What’re you doing here, Satoru?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. Trying to hold back the smirk threatening to curl your lips at the way he gulps.

“Uh- My father’s off to some urgent b-business.” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck. “Told me to tell you he’s sorry and wishes you the breas- best.”

Oh. 

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Satoru’s father has canceled on you. But it would be the first time that he’s canceled on you so conveniently enough to leave you alone with his unfairly hot son. Now, you couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste, right?

You lean slightly against the door, body ghosting Satoru’s, teasing him, “Well, when is my dear sugar daddy coming back from his business? Tell him I miss him.”

It’s a joke - and both of you probably know it. But that doesn’t stop Satoru’s brows furrowing ever-so-slightly, suddenly a different man from the flustered one he was just a few seconds ago as he mutters, “I don’t think he’ll be back tonight.”

“Aww, must be some important business.” 

He clenches his jaw aggressively at that, gritting out a clipped little, “You do know that ‘business’ of his is his secretary right?”

“I know. What a shame, right? Guess I’ll just have to go home n’ wait for him then?” you mockingly sigh - God, someone give you an Oscar. Moving to close the door in Satoru’s face, only to be stopped by a large hard smacking into the doorframe - as you knew it would. 

“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you come out looking like that and let you go home without tearing it to shreds.”

And that’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.

The door is slamming shut before you know it, and you’re shoved against it. Satoru’s lips such a sloppy mix of teeth and spit. Hands just everywhere - cradling your cheek, teasing your nipples through your bra, running down to squeeze and grope your ass. He just couldn’t get enough of you. 

Fuck twiddling with the lace, Satoru seemed well and fully intent to rip it off of you. And you’d let him. Just like he was letting you shove his overpriced button-up down his toned shoulders. Soft little rips sounding in the heady air at the urgency but neither of you could give less of a fuck. 

All you could think of is the way Satoru was so pretty and muscled. Drinking in all the dips and curves of pale skin underneath your fingertips. 

“Fuck, princess. Chose this color on purpose, huh?” his fingers dive under the hem of your bra, “Wanted to drive me crazy, mm?”

“Y-yes, Satoru.” you gasp into his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. “Wanted you to look at it. Got it custom-made all f’you.” words muffled as he sucks on your tongue. Satoru was always such a messy kisser, licking at the seam of your lips and intertwining his tongue with yours with no shame or shyness. A delicate trail of drool already starting at the corner of your mouth. 

Ah, it was too much for him. Satoru almost thinks he could cum in his pants right now at your sinful little admission. 

Which is why he pulls away to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, letting out a broken little hum of appreciation into your skin. “Thought so.”

And then your bra’s hitting the floor, tits spilling out into the cold bedroom air. But only for a split-second because Satoru’s immediately groping each and every inch of skin he can find. 

“Look so fucking beautiful like this.” Rolling your swollen nipples between two fingers as he mutters - more to himself than you, “Was gonna let him see you in this slutty lil’ thing, too?” leaning down to tongue lazily little circles on one nipple. Words muffled as he wraps his lips so prettily around your tit - tugging, just grazing with his teeth, “Matching my eyes, huh? Fuckin’ gonna be the death of me shit-”

Satoru was insatiable. Wanting all of you all at the same time. And you follow his line of sight to see him locked on your dripping cunt - soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. Clenching around nothing as his pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight. 

Like a madman, he immediately drops to his knees. But you don’t think he even feels the pain as he bites down on the hem of your wet panties. Looking up at you with dazed eyes - miles away. 

Breath ghosting your quivering cunt, tugging lightly with his teeth, “Next time, I’m gonna be the one buying you these.”

Then he’s pulling - tearing your drenched panties to shreds. Grinning so devilishly around it as he gets his first sight of your pretty pussy.  Oh you were so perfect for him. So mouthwateringly wet. 

“Shit, princess. Can’t believe you were fucking holdin’ out on me.”  he muses in wonder, eyes wide at the way your sloppy pussy was glistening in the dim lighting. 

“You were the one that-”

And usually, Satoru loves hearing you run your mouth, but this time he’s shutting you up by diving face-first into your dripping cunt. Cute little mewls leaving you as he presses so shamefully deep that his nose was against your throbbing clit, rubbing languidly as he licks a thick stripe up your swollen folds. 

And then it was like something snapped. 

Because one taste of you and Satoru’s going wild. Throwing a leg over his shoulder to lick more desperately all all over your cunt, lapping up all the juices that gush out of you. Already so addicted because shit you were so much sweeter than in his dreams. 

“Ah! Hngh- please.” you mewl, as he wraps his glossy lips around your swollen clit. All you get is a feral little grunt, his jaw parted, eyes looking like he’s on cloud nine as starts to suck harshly. Filthy little squelches filling the air as Satoru rolls his tongue across your clit. “Feels, s’good, Satoru.”

But your cute little whines turn into one of disappointment as Satoru pulls away ever-so-slightly. “Call m’Toru.” he slurs.

And he doesn’t waste any more time, tongue swishing in his mouth to spit on you once. Twice. Missing ever so slightly, and splattering on your thigh. You flinch, gasping out a breathless little, “Toru!”

“Oh shit, princess. Yeah- say m’name jus’ like that” he groans, ragged and raw. The last thing out of his mouth before he’s squeezing his soft tongue into your snug cunt. Dipping into your sloppy hole in and out in and out in and-

“He ever made you feel this good?” he moans into your cunt, the vibrations making you fuck yourself deeper into his unrelenting tongue. 

“W-what?”

“He ever made you feel this good? Cum so hard you see stars?”

You gasp out a pathetic little sob, “N-no. Want to- Wan’ you to make me cum, Toru. Make me cum around your tongue.”

And, well, what his girl wants - then she’s going to get. Because Satoru’s lapping at your cunt even more greedily than before. 

Stretching you out, breathing you in, looking up at your cute expression through his long lashes. Already so fucked-out for him. 

Nose rubbing purposefully in small circles on your clit. Fucking you with his tongue the way he wants to with his cock and he didn’t give a fuck if he suffocated in-between your thighs - he fucking loved it. 

“Hngh- shit shit shit yes!” your nails are digging into Satoru’s scalp at this point. The only thing steadying yourself to prevent you from collapsing onto the ground. And you really can’t help but angle his head just right so that his tongue curls against that one spot inside your plushy walls. 

Thankfully, he gets the memo. Because Satoru’s letting out a strangled little grunt at being so used by you as you drag your cunt across his pretty mouth. Body jerking into his as he hits that spot over and over-

“T-Toru- hah!” thighs quivering, Satoru’s grip bruising as he holds you up. “M’m gonna-” Your plushy walls sucking him up, thighs squeezing around his face. 

“Mhm?”

“Cum! M’gonna cum- ah- fuck fuck fuck-”

He groans huskily into your cunt. Throwing his head back ever-so-slightly to let your slick slide down his throat - greedily waiting for more that was to come. “Then show me how you cum, m’girl. Cum all over my tongue.”

And then you are - all over Satoru’s pretty face. And fuck he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier. Holding his head in place as you rock your hips into his waiting mouth, letting him drink you in so greedily. Clamping down on his tongue like you were trying to milk him. 

And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d notice the delirious little heart eyes that Satoru was giving you, your cunt firm on his face and swollen lips letting out such pretty whines of his name. Toru Toru Toru - like a prayer as you fucking use him for your high. 

Ah, he could stay like this forever, he thinks. But no, an empty house and you all wet n’ pretty for him means there’s too much more to do. 

Which is why he’s pulling away, your slick decorating his lips so prettily. Smeared across the bottom half of his face and dripping onto the hardwood floor in a maddening little drip! drip! drip! 

And Satoru knows, with the way you watch him so intensely, mouth parted, eyes glossy. Which is why he runs a thumb along his mouth, pooling your juices on his fingers and popping them into his mouth. One by one. 

Your jaw drops a little in disbelief as Satoru licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste. Oh he was ruining you without even touching you. 

“Not enough, princess.” he chuckles. “C’mon, gimme a kiss.”

And, really, how could you ever say no to that face? Because you’re pulling him to you as soon as Satoru stands to his full height. Capturing his lips in such a sloppy, filthy kiss - forcing you to taste yourself and you half-lucidly wonder whether Satoru loved the taste almost as much as you because it was so him.

Bodies so close that your dripping cunt was seeping into his unfairly tight shirt. Forming a lewd little dark patch when Satoru lifts you effortlessly to guide you to the bed. Tongue still entwining obscenely with yours as he splays you out on the soft mattress for him. Drinking in that adorable lil’ shock on your face as you bounce on the bed, so drunk off of him that you didn’t even realize he was taking you to the bed. 

“Shit, y’look the prettiest like this, princess. S’a wonder m’not fucking passing out right now.” he hisses into your lips.

“Toru-” you whine, and shit the way his cock jumps at the mere sound of your voice makes you think that this will be a little trick you’re using more often. “Wan’ your cock s’bad. Wanna-”

You don’t even have the patience to finish the sentence before you’re fumbling with his belt. Something hefty and overpriced but you can’t possibly think about that right now because fuck you get the first sliver of milky skin. 

Satoru’s thighs were so sculpted and thick. It made your mouth absolutely water to wonder what it would feel like to ride them to insanity.

“Y’wanna ride my thighs? Fuck princess, you really are driving me crazy.” 

Shit had you said that out loud? 

Ah, well, it doesn’t matter because Satoru’s pulling his boxers down - so tight with his swollen cock, a dark patch right where his weeping head was. And you almost pout at losing the opportunity to take them off but oh how you’re distracted by the sinful sight before you. 

Satoru was massive - so long and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Shit, you were going to have to get a lingerie set in this color one of these days. He was achingly hard and throbbing, springing up to smear precum all over his abs. 

And before you can even react, Satoru’s pulling you to him. Manhandling your pretty self so easily to straddle one, large thigh. 

“Oh- hngh, Toru.” you look up at him all doe-eyed and teary as he doesn’t even wait for you to register what’s all happening. Grip bruising on your hips as he rocks your hips so sluttily on his leg. “F-feels s’good. Ah-”

“Yeah? Y’like it? Like getting yourself off like a lil’ slut on my thigh?” he groans into your ear, low and husky with need. 

You nod wildly, sloppy pussy dripping all over his thigh, seeping into his skin as you grind your hips to meet his movements. “Like it s’much- ah-”

“Mhm? Better than anything he could ever do?”

“Yes yes yes, Toru-” you sob, cheeks burning as you realize that you’re humping him like a bitch in heat - but oh judging by the carnal little glint in his eyes, he liked it. Loved it, even. Because Satoru could feel the way your swollen folds spread to grind against him, clit pulsing so maddeningly against his skin. So filthy and messy as you used him to get yourself off. “S’much better- the best-”

He just didn’t expect to feel a soft hand wrapping around his cock. Eyes flying open to see you - all glassy-eyed, and fucking yourself on his thigh - wrap a hand around his cock. Starting to move in shallow, unsteady little motions up and down his throbbing cock to get him off at the same time as you.

“Wan’ you to cum, too, Toru.”

“Oh fuck.” he grunts, letting his hips fuck up into your fist in mindless little motions. “Y’don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

And with that his fingers were digging into the skin of your hips, forcing you to hold on for dear life as he drags your dripping cunt faster and faster across his thick. Movements erratic and frenzied now. 

Of course, you were not one to be out-done. 

Satoru’s precum spilling down your hand, your wrist now aching and wet, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off. But you still tighten your fist around his pulsing cock, desperately flying up and down his length. Pulling in quick, jerky motions to milk him for all he’s worth again and again and-

“You’re so oh- good f’me, princess.” he hums. “Your hngh- hands are so p-pretty wrapped around my cock. So perfect for me.” Bucking his hips wildly to meet your hand now, fucking your fist with no shame. Pulling you harsher on his thigh. “S’such a shame you had to hah fuck- meet my father first. I’d have been so much better.”

“Toru!” you squeal as one hand moves deftly from your hips to draw quick, hasty little circles on your throbbing clit. The friction from his thigh and fingers too much to handle. 

“I’d make you happier.” Your body is shaking now, hands messy and trembling around his swollen cock. “I’d make you laugh more and give you all m’time.” You can’t even look at him at this point, eyes scrunched close in ecstasy as Satoru whispers these maddening little phrases into your open mouth. 

“I’d make you cum harder.”

Oh and then you are - tears in your eyes, body convulsing into his as you cum. And of course he’s smirking smugly as he watches you ride your high out on his thigh, brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten in concentration as he holds off cumming. Not now. Not yet. 

“So, better than him or not?”

But shit was it hard. 

Especially when you raise your pretty, barely-lucid eyes to meet his, whimpering out a soft little, “I don’ know yet, Toru. Gonna hafta stuff me full of your cock if you wanna know.”

And perhaps for the first time since you walked in on him after the shower that night, the great Gojo Satoru is taken aback. Eyes widening in surprise, kiss-bitten lips falling into a soft oh! of disbelief. But not for long - never for long - because a devilish little grin breaks out across his face immediately afterwards. 

“Shit, y’really are perfect f’me, princess.”

With a low growl, Satoru is easily pulling your body - limp and boneless in his hands - to straddle his toned hips. 

You let out a yelp at the feeling of his fat tip just kissing your swollen folds, dragging teasingly along them, collecting the slick beading out of your sloppy cunt. Back and forth-

“Who’s got you feeling this way?”

“You, Toru.”

And then he’s pushing in, swollen cock bullying into your snug pussy. Thumbs drawing steady little circles on your hips - yes to reassure you but also to fight off that feral little part of himself that just wants to stuff your pretty lil’ pussy full until his heavy balls smack your ass. Not even waiting for you to adjust. 

But no. No, it was so much better when you were the one desperately trying to suck up his cock. Gasping and moaning out strangled little whimpers of his name as you sink yourself down on his throbbing dick. Inch by fucking inch. 

“S’too big- Hngh! I-is it even halfway in?” you whimper out, and Satoru could almost laugh humorlessly as he tilts his head to glance downwards and shit- he was barely a quarter in. 

“No.” 

“F-fuck” cute little tears streaking down your face now, thighs trembling, “Toru, I-I don’t think I can-”

“You can. And you will.” Fucking up into you in short, rapid little jabs to squeeze himself deeper into your tight pussy. Shit, it was such a squeeze, you were milking the ever-loving soul out of him. And it only made him impossibly harder inside you, making you whine and grind down - torn between chasing the feeling of being so deliciously full and the sheer pressure. “Shit, love when your pussy’s sucking me up so good.” 

One hand is on your hip, sliding you farther and farther down his cock, the other drawing urgent, quick patterns on your clit. Not even circles anymore because shit Satoru doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity for that. Throbbing veins rubbing so sinfully against that one spot in your dripping cunt, splitting you apart to the same rhythm as the pulsing. 

And as soon as your ass meets his heavy balls - already so wet with precum and slick - Satoru doesn’t even know if he’s on planet Earth anymore. Mind spinning, he doesn’t waste any time at all. 

“Fuck yes.” Satoru hisses, throwing his head back. “Fucking finally.” He pulls his hips back, far enough that his angry, red tip is just kissing your sloppy entrance, surging forward, forward, forward- “Y’don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this, princess. Needed this s’bad, so so bad you don’t understand. Shit.”

And, hey, his girl deserved to be fucked dumb, right?

“Needed this ever since I saw you at that goddamn gala.” he whispers into your lips, ragged and so fucked-out. Each word punctuated by a harsh, heavy thrust. Ones that have you keening and grasping Satoru’s broad back for support. Nails raking down his shoulders as his pace gets faster. More purposeful.

And you can do nothing but take it, barely even able to form any coherent sentences. So prettily sat on Satoru’s lap as he fucks into you, babbling sweet little nonsenses made for your ears only. “Ever since I saw that murderous little glare you threw at those snobby guests.”

His balls smacking against your ass over and over. A quick, steady little tempo that you were losing your mind to. “Ever since you let me take your hand and drag you away to that secret bar to take shots instead of champagne.”

You don’t know whether you’re even crying at this point - all you know is that your cheeks are wet and your voice is broken as your let out a little, “F-fuck, Satoru- but your fa-”

“Fuck that.” he whines, and you could almost laugh at the adorable pout that makes its way onto his face. And at that you can feel him jolt so deliciously, head snapping up to meet yours. “I’m the better one.”

And as if he’s trying to prove it to your cunt, he’s drilling into you faster. Harder. Hips burning now as he fucks you like some animal. Hitting that sweet spot over and over. “I’m the one with the personality and the looks.” Long fingers almost a blur on your clit as he matches his place. Cock hot, and throbbing inside you. 

“I’m the heir, I get the company, too, if that’s what you like.” He’s bouncing you on his cock animalistically now. Hungry gaze taking in the way you’re sucking him up so well. “And I’m funnier one, I’m the one that should be by your side.”

You see stars behind your eyes at both the pleasure and sheer overstimulation as Satoru starts fucking your cunt as best he could without fucking breaking you  - but, honestly, he didn’t give a shit if you cried. He just wanted to stuff you full and have you cum harder than you ever have in your life. 

“Fuck- fuck yes m’gonna cum Toru- hngh.” You pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “M-make ah! Make me cum, fill me up please, Toru.”

You feel him shudder inside you, balls squeezing so painfully. Hips sloppy and absolutely soaked with precum and slick. “Sh-shit, you’re not too good for m’heart. Ngh, f-fuck- I should be the one to make you cum. Over and over until you don’t know what it feels like to not.”

“Toru!” your eyes fly open, “Yes yes yes- it’s you. Only you-”

Oh, like something snapped then Satoru’s surging forward to bite down on the crook of your neck. Hard. You’d almost think he was out to draw blood. And then with a low groan, and one, harsh little thrust, Satoru’s cumming and cumming inside your pretty pussy. And you are too - back arching as you milk his cock through his high. 

Fingers digging into your skin as he holds your hips to his, letting your cunt be filled up so sloppily. Pumping thick, hot ropes of seed that dribbled out of you each time he pumped his hips into yours. Fucking it deeper and deeper inside you. 

And then you’re both collapsing, the exhaustion suddenly hitting the both of you as Satoru moves you both to lay on the mattress. Fuck, Satoru watches in wonder as his cum gushes out of you and forms a wet little pool on the expensive sheets as he starts to pull out. One round might just not be enough. 

Yet not yet - he can feel his eyes drooping, muscles aching as he pulls your sticky body closer to his. And Satoru knows he should get up and wipe you both down. But right now, he’s too drunk off the heat of your body and that angry little bite on your neck. Distracted by the cute lil’ expression on your face, so tired and thoroughly fucked out. Fingers playing with his hair, looking at him with an expression so fond - just like in his dreams. 

Nothing more is said. And all is quiet in your strange little heaven. 

That is, until - “So, princess. Wouldn’t ya wanna be an heiress instead of a sugar baby?”

A/N. How we feeling???

Plagiarism not authorized.

[rieamena]

"mama!"

your seven year old daughter climbed onto your bed, bouncing on the mattress before settling into your warm embrace under the blankets. running a hand through her pink hair, you answered softly, "yes, sweetheart?"

it was almost like your genes didn't put up a fight at all. your child, chikara, was the spitting image of her father, your husband, ryomen sukuna. same hair, same face shape, same facial features, the only thing that seemed to be your contribution was her personality, and even then, sometimes you'll see your husband's characteristic scowl on her little face

"how did you and daddy meet?" "well, it was–"

"what's goin' on in here? conspiring against me?" sukuna's voice filled the room as he leaned against the door frame, a cheeky smirk on his face. you saw your daughter's face brighten up as she jumped down to run to her father, "daddy! daddy! mommy's gonna tell the story of when you first met!" sukuna immediately looked at you, his index finger barely being fully wrapped by his daughter's hand

"she asked me to. guess watching all those romantic dramas with her rubbed off on her." you giggled, earning a scowl from him. "shut it woman. you know i hate them." "yeah..., that's definitely why we watch 90 day fiance every sunday together." "you got a problem with— stop tryna move me brat!"

"but daddyyyyy," she whined, still pushing against sukuna's body, "i don't wanna miss mommy's story!" "we're literally seven feet away from her."

your daughter pouted and stopped trying to get her dad to move. letting go of his finger, and leaving him at the doorway, chikara plopped herself down at your side with wide, eager eyes, "go on, mommy, tell me! i wanna know everything."

you smiled, looking at sukuna, who rolled his eyes but gave a small nod. "alright, sweetheart. it all started one day in the park when i was watching over megumi, and your dad was taking care of his younger brother, yuuji…"

"yuuji?" chikara interrupted, her face lighting up. "uncle yuuji was there too?"

"yep, yuuji was just a little kid back then," you said with a soft laugh. "he was running around, being his usual energetic self, when he tripped and scraped his knee. your dad, being the great caretaker he is—"

"—i was plenty good at it," sukuna muttered

you shot him a look and continued, "—didn't seem too worried. he told yuuji to stop crying."

"i did not say it like that," sukuna cut in, pushing off the doorframe and coming closer to the bed. "i told him to toughen up. gotta learn how to handle a few scrapes."

your daughter giggled, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. "but mommy's a nurse, so she went over to help, right?"

"exactly. i couldn't just sit there watching, so i went over, knelt down, and started cleaning yuuji's knee. and i told your father—" you paused, giving sukuna a mischievous smile, "—that he should care more about his son instead of telling him to stop crying."

your daughter gasped dramatically, eyes wide with anticipation. sukuna groaned, running a hand over his face. "i knew you'd bring that up."

"and what did daddy say?" she asked, leaning in as if she could hardly wait

"he looked at me and said, 'that's not my son, that's my brother,'" you mimicked sukuna’s low, irritated tone. "i was so embarrassed!" sukuna chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "you should've seen your mom’s face. all high and mighty, like she was about to call child protection services on me or something."

you couldn't help but laugh, too. "anyway, i patched yuuji up, and to make up for the misunderstanding, your dad suggested we set up a playdate for yuuji and megumi."

"a playdate?"

"yup," you nodded. "though i think your dad might've had other reasons for giving me his number." sukuna scoffed, folding his arms. "that didn’t happen."

you raised an eyebrow at him. "oh? so your eyes didn’t sparkle when i smiled and told you goodbye?" sukuna groaned again, this time louder. "my eyes did not do that."

chikara giggled harder, clearly enjoying the banter. "i think daddy liked you right away!" you smiled softly. "maybe he did. i mean, why else would he take me to a skate park for our first date?" sukuna rolled his eyes. "you said you wanted to learn how to skate. i was just being nice."

"uh-huh. sure," you teased. "and he was so good at it, zooming around, showing off. i'll admit..., he did look kinda cool! i, on the other hand, spent most of the time falling."

"which is why i had to keep catching you," sukuna added, sliding into the empty space next to you on the bed. "mommy fell? did daddy save you?" chikara asked, her face lighting up at the idea

sukuna ruffled her pink hair. "more like i had to stop her from breaking every bone in her body." you rolled your eyes at him. "i wasn't that bad."

"yes, you were," sukuna said, smirking. "you almost took me down with you half the time." smiling at the memory, you leaned in to kiss your daughter's forehead. "but it was fun. and after that, we went out for ice cream, and your dad actually smiled for real that time."

"daddy smiled? really?"

sukuna shot you a half-hearted glare. "i smile."

"not back then you didn't," you teased, poking his arm. chikara turned to her dad, beaming. "i wanna learn to skate, too, just like you and mommy!" sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around her

"maybe one day, brat. but you’re probably gonna fall as much as your mom did."

"hey!"

gulp... sorry if sukuna is ooc, im tired and im on my period but i really liked this request so...

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@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes @cupcaketeddybehr @tomikixd

@e-dollly

[areislol]

"i'm gonna marry mama when i'm older!"

pairings. argenti, aventurine, blade, boothill, dr. ratio, gallagher, gepard, dan heng/imbibitor lunae, jing yuan, luocha, sampo, welt, jiaoqiu, moze x afab/fem! reader

warnings. fluff, wife! reader, use of "mama", "papa" and "mommy" and "daddy", [c/n] = child's name, sampo being sampo, lots of girl dads

a/n. baby fever hit me. #foreverwithmybabydaddy

wordcount. 4.7k

synopsis. how do they react to their child wanting to marry you, his wife?

playfully teases your child

sampo —

✧ "well, well, seems like i've got a little competitor! but you’ll need more than charm to steal your mom away from me!"

✧😐😐 <- how he actually feels inside

✧ listen, sampo LOVES his little him to DEATH. but for some odd reason hearing his son suddenly burst out saying that he was going to marry you made his face go all sour and ugly.

✧ but he knows that he you would never allow that and that it was all fun and games, still, his smirk grows larger as his son barks back. "nuh uh!! mama loves me more than you, so i will marry mama first! not you!"

✧ a loud, audible, dramatic, heartbroken, gasp can be heard from sampo's wide open mouth, letting out a strangled noise. "you!! never!! my wife loves me more than you!" you let out an exasperated sigh, watching as your husband and your son bickered back and fourth on who you loved more.

✧ "c'mon!! tell him that you love me more than him!" "that would break his heart, sampo! absolutely not!" "but... he's breaking my heart..." ah, there goes his little pout and his puppy eyes that always magically work on you.

✧ "come on... please? pretty please? I'M BEGGING YOU I'M LOSING THIS ARGUMENT TO OUR SON!!!"

✧ your eyes flicker between sampo and your son. sampo is begging you, clinging onto the hem of your shirt as his kneels down while your son on the other hand is staring at his father in confusion and.. embarrassment? you stifled your laughter back, the sight of your six-year-old child giving his own dad a stink eye was hilarious.

✧ "are you laughing at me...?" sampo looks up at your face, eyeing your expressions and follows your gaze, turning his head he faces his son who stares right back at him. "oh..."

✧ "daddy why are you always doing weird things?"

aventurine —

✧ aventurine would laugh heartily and say, "oh, planning to take my spot, are you? well, you’ve got some big shoes to fill!" he’d probably challenge his child to a fun, friendly competition to see who can win over their mom’s heart.

✧ he knows that his child actually has no chance in marrying you, but hey, it's worth a shot to see how far they'll actually go.

✧ "babe!! little [c/n] here wants to marry you~" he says, beckoning for you to side beside him, your child's eyes sparkled at the sight of you sitting down beside him, they grip on your leg, hugging it tightly.

✧ "can i really marry you when i'm older?" you cock your head to the side, eyeing aventurine and your child. "what's all this about?" you asked, aventurine simply pulled you in close to him, his arm wrapped around your waist as he hoists his child up and onto his lap. "mmm... nothing really. so, who do you want to marry, me or this little kid here?"

✧ you caressed your child's hair, letting out a hum in thought. "well... [c/n] i'm already married to daddy..." you replied, and gosh do you feel your heart crumble into a million pieces when you see your child pout, their chubby cheeks prominent. b—but..."

✧ "it's alright sweetie, you can still try, but i don't think mommy will ever marry you—" "WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" "WHY ARE YOU—"

✧ in the end you calm your baby down with aventurine who's gripping his shirt over his heart. both you and aventurine settled on letting your child compete with his dad in trying to prove themselves to "marry you one day". once they're put to sleep in their room, aventurine hugs you from behind, his arms snaking around your waist.

✧ "you only want me, right?" he sighed, face nuzzling in your neck. "well of course you're my husband. but don't get their hopes up too high okay? or else they might start crying in your ears again." you laughed. aventurine only let out yet another sigh, leading you away from your child's room.

✧ "child or not i don't want anyone else who wants to be with my wife."

moze —

✧ moze immediately perked his ehad up at the sound of his daughter's voice.. wait.. did he hear her correctly?

✧ though his face remained stoic as ever, the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. he turns to his child, raising an eyebrow with his typical quiet intensity. "you want to marry your mother?" he asks, his voice low but carrying just the right amount of teasing. "you’re going to have to be real smooth if you want to outshine me."

✧ his gaze flicks to you for just a second, a glint of warmth in his otherwise composed demeanour. then, in true moze fashion, he quickly shifted gears, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, as he continued to joke around with his child.

✧ "do you even have a plan? flowers? chocolates? you’re up against some serious competition here," moze adds, his tone dry but playful.

✧ despite his typically reserved nature (but over time you got to really know the true moze and not the 'crow feathered weirdo'), moze had a way of making these rare moments with his family feel special. he ruffles his child’s hair, his smirk widens slightly. "maybe i’ll teach you a thing or two, but you’ll need to practice. being this smooth doesn’t come easy."

✧ moze glances at you again, his silent affection shining through in the way his eyes softened when they landed on you. though he wasn’t one for long speeches or grand gestures, his love for his family was always clear in these moments.

✧ he continues keeping his child entertained with more jokes and a rare display of his dry wit. though he acted cool and composed, these were the moments that he held onto, the ones that made him forget, if only for a while, about the covert world he was usually immersed in.

✧ "seems like i've got competition.. i won't easily be beaten though."

overprotective about you

gepard —

✧ gepard would likely have a soft, almost tender smile when he hears his child say they want to marry you, their mother, his wife. his voice would be gentle, filled with a mixture of pride and love.

✧ "marrying your mother is an honor and a responsibility. you must be ready to protect and care for her, just as i do."

✧ he would explain that love is about more than just affection—it's about commitment, duty, and being there for each other through thick and thin. kneeling down to his child’s level, he places a hand on his child’s shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze as he speaks.

✧ "if you're willing to do all those things then i think mommy wouldn't mind if you proposed to her." and oh does he thank the lord every day for blessing him with his child whose eyes sparkled at his encouraging words. "mhm mhm! i will!" and such chubby cheeks too.. he pinches them affectionately, a tender smile on his face.

✧ even after the conversation ends, he gazes lovingly at you, feeling grateful for the family you've built together.

✧ gepard stands behind you, arms snaked around your waist, his much larger and warm palms resting on your stomach, he hums softly on your head, kneading the soft fabric of your shirt. yeah, he could definitely get used to this life.

✧ "maybe [c/n] wouldn't mind another sibling, hm?"

blade —

✧ blade’s initial reaction would be a mix of surprise and seriousness. (though your daughter probably can't read his expression) you were out shopping and left your child an your husband together in her room, it was trashed with toys, toys and more toys...

✧ blade was subjected to his daughter's antics, but of course he allowed her to do her thing (reluctantly). out of nowhere, she spoke, her words catching him off guard.

✧ "i'm gonna marry mama!" "...no you won't." "i will!" "...."

✧ "......................................................"

✧ blade leans down slightly, his intense gaze locking with his child’s eyes. there’s a seriousness to him, one that contrasts with the lightheartedness of the situation. his voice is calm yet firm

✧ "love is not something to be taken lightly," he begins, his tone gentle but unwavering. he wants his child to understand that while the sentiment is touching, the reality behind such words is far more intricate. "when you say such things, make sure you understand the weight of your words."

✧ weight?? of your words?? what does that even mean???? <- your poor, confused child. blade sighs, what was he thinking? could this little child of his understand his words?

✧ blade watches his child closely, looking for signs of understanding despite knowing that inside the depths of his daughter's eyes, is nothing. just pure bliss and not living naively in the world.

✧ he’s aware that she's still young, that the world of love and marriage is something that shouldn't concern them (blade is never letting his precious daughter marry anyone let alone DATE). yet, he also knows that these early lessons are important. he wishes to prepare her, to ensure she grows up strong and resilient.

✧ blade’s gaze softens just slightly, though his posture remains firm. he’s not one to easily show affection, but there’s a quiet tenderness in the way he holds himself at this moment. his child’s innocent declaration has stirred something within him, something he rarely allows himself to feel. ✧ "alright alright, fine. stop sulking."

✧ "YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!"

boothill —

✧ "you’re serious about that, huh? well, you’ve got to be strong and steady if you want to take care of someone like your mother."

✧ gosh, he's just so elated with the fact that little him gets him!! like, who wouldn't want to marry you? exactly!!! he gets it!!

✧ his rugged exterior momentarily softened by their innocent declaration. his voice would be slightly gruff, but there's an underlying warmth that shows how much he cares.

✧ when his child suddenly declares that they want to marry their mother when they grow up, he doesn’t make a big show of it. instead, he quietly observes the interaction, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing at the corners of his lips. boothill gives his child a small and gentle squeeze on the shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly, acknowledging the sweetness of the moment, but he doesn’t say much.

✧ but deep down, boothill just wants to lunge himself at his child, smothering them in his love, but refrains from doing so, remembering your words. "don't tackle him or anything, he's still small and fragile!!"

✧ ruffling his hair, boothill picks up his son up in his arms, a grin forming on his lips as he feels the all too familiar grubby hands gripping his hat, tilting it to the side, a fit of giggles erupted, apparently the sight of his hat covering the side of his face was hilarious.

✧ "is it really that funny, junior?" he sighed, carefully hoisting him up to make it more comfortable for the both of them. "ah whatever, let's wait for mama to come back from shopping alright?"

✧ at the mention of your name your son's head perks up, stopping his giggles. "mama!" he exclaims, this time fully yanking his hat off. boothill shakes his head at his actions.

✧ he knows that love is complicated, something that can’t be fully understood at a young age. to him, this is a reminder of the purity of a child’s love—something untainted by the complexities of adult life.

the romantic

jing yuan —

✧ "ah, you’ve got good taste, my little one. but remember, love is a journey, one that requires patience and understanding." he’d likely share a romantic story or two, expressing his deep affection for you, his wife.

✧ jing yuan would smile warmly at his girl's declaration. how sweet of her to be wed to you, although he knows it's impossible, he couldn't break his sweet child's heart.

✧ jing yuan would chuckle softly, his hand ruffling his little one's hair as she gazed up at him with bright, innocent eyes. "you've got quite the ambition, my dear."

✧ his golden eyes would soften as he exchanged a warm glance with you, his wife. "i think mommy might like that idea," he’d tease, his deep voice carrying a note of affection.

✧ kneeling down to his child's height, jing yuan leans in closer, his smile widening. "but you know, love isn't just about weddings or promises. it’s about cherishing someone every day, even in the little things."

✧ he’d pull you both into a gentle embrace, his strong arms encircling his family. "besides, your mother already has my heart. but maybe… just maybe, you can help me take care of her, too."

✧ the child would beam, feeling proud and important, while jing yuan would place a soft kiss on your forehead, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "looks like i’ve got some competition," he'd say playfully, causing you both to laugh.

✧ later, as he tucks your little one into bed and he whispers, "you’ll find your own special someone one day, but for now, let’s make sure mommy knows how much we both love her."

imbibitor lunae —

✧ a soft, knowing smile would spread on his face, his ethereal gaze settling on his child with a tender warmth. "ah, to marry your mother… a noble thought indeed. the bond between two souls is sacred, built on trust and mutual respect," he’d say, his voice as serene as a breeze.

✧ he then turns his gaze to you, his eyes reflecting centuries of love. "your mother is a rare treasure indeed, and i’m glad to see you understand this at such a young age." His words are gentle yet profound.

✧ kneeling down gracefully, he’d gently lift his child’s hand, brushing a thumb across their tiny fingers. "but love is not something to be rushed. it’s like the moon in its cycle—waxing, waning, yet always returning to full."

✧ imbibitor lunae would most likely recite a beautiful verse from an ancient text, encapsulating the sacredness of love and family: “like the stars embracing the night sky, so too shall our hearts stay intertwined across the ages.”

✧ with a chuckle, he’d then stroke the child’s cheek softly. "but until you’re older, why not help me look after her? there’s much to learn in the way of love and care."

✧ he’d then pull both you and your child close, his comforting and grounding presence enveloping the moment in peace. "together, we are strong. perhaps one day, you’ll find your own soul to cherish as I do your mother."

argenti —

✧ argenti throws his head back with a booming laugh, his hand ruffling his child’s hair with infectious enthusiasm. "ah, such noble sentiments! you wish to marry your mother? how valiant!" his eyes would gleam with pride, and he’d turn to you with an exaggerated, theatrical gasp. "it seems i’ve been bested by our own child!"

✧ with a dramatic flourish, he’d lift you off your feet, spinning you in a playful circle before setting you down (with you playfully smacking his arm), his voice filled with lightheartedness.

✧ "but alas! your mother has already claimed my heart, dear one."

✧ to celebrate his child’s declaration (yes, have i ever mentioned that argenti is absolutely dramatic??), argenti would likely organize a spontaneous "family adventure." he’d gather some flowers from a nearby meadow or call forth a small spectacle of radiant lights from his sword, creating a miniature show. "we shall offer these as a tribute to the queen of our hearts—your mother!"

✧ he would encourage the child to present the gathered flowers or lights to you, his smile proud as his child participated in the grand romantic gesture. "together, we shall shower her with the love and admiration she so rightfully deserves!"

✧ later, as you all relaxed beneath the stars, argenti would point to the sky, his voice soft yet brimming with passion. "you see those stars, little one? each one shines with the love i have for your mother. and someday, you will understand how to shine just as brightly."

✧ argenti has never been prouder of his little one. "for now, my brave one, let’s continue showering her with love, for the greatest battles are not won with swords but with the heart."

the pragamtist (will break your child's heart)

welt —

✧ welt smiles slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting in that thoughtful, knowing way of his. "that’s very sweet of you," he’d say, his voice calm and reassuring. "but your mother and i are already committed to each other."

✧ uh oh. he can his child's bottom lip quiver.. wait.. no.. he didn't mean it—wait—!!

✧ "WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHY DID YOU TAKE MOMMY AWAAAYY" ah.. there it is.. oh woe is welt. and so as your child wails and fat tears roll down his cheeks your ears perk up, obviously worried for your child who is quite literally screaming his lungs out.

✧ you walk out of your room and into the living room where you see welt trying his best to calm down his son, majority of the time welt does an amazing job in soothing him to sleep and cease his yowling but today? right now? it seems like no matter what welt tried it was to no avail.

✧ "what's going on?" you asked, raising a brow at this odd scene before you. taking a seat beside your son he quickly wastes no time in latching onto you, his chubby arms barely wrapped around your waist, his head squished against your thigh.

✧ you give welt a look. he sighs, staring down at his son who has successfully calmed down. "you see, [c/n] wants to marry you when he's older..." he begins, watching your reaction. "mhm.." you hummed, signalling for him to continue. "and i told him that we were already married."

✧ "... is that so..?" you giggled, looking down at your son who's gripping onto the fabric of your pants. "is that right, [c/n]?" your son slowly lifts his head up, an adorable pout on his lips. he stares at you before pointing at your husband.

✧ "daddy took mommy away!" he yells angrily, if it was possible, there would be steam coming out of your baby's ear.

✧ welt winces at the voice his child uses before speaking up. "you see, love is about understanding and growing with another person. it’s not just about wanting to be with someone—it’s about supporting them, no matter what."

✧ ??? "???? welt you're speaking to him as if he can understand."

✧ "oh, right." welt clears his throat, holding his son's much smaller hands in his own. "son, i understand that you love your mommy very much but..." he glances over at you. "me and mommy are already.. together. and mommy can't marry you because—"

✧ "WHY CAN'T I MARRY MOMMY" yet another session of crying begins. welt is practically dumbfounded.

✧ you click your tongue, lifting your son up into your arms, cradling him and patting his back. "shh, it's okay. daddy knows nothing... you can marry mommy if you want!" you cooed.

✧ "what—"

dr. ratio —

✧ raising an eyebrow at his child’s declaration he closes his book, his attention now fully on his child. " so you want to marry your mother, huh? well, while your intention is admirable, there’s a lot more to it than just saying 'i do.' you see, relationships are like a complex equation—variables, constants, and sometimes, unknown factors."

✧ 😐 dr ratio your child can barely answer do division calm down

✧ 'this is a great opporunity!' he thinks as he starts pacing, hands waving in the air as he speaks. "now, love, that’s the x factor! you can’t quantify it, but it changes everything. you might think it’s simple, but oh no, it’s much like trying to balance a chemical formula—get one thing wrong, and, well, it could blow up in your face!" he’d smile, amused by his own analogy.

✧ turning to you with a smirk, he’d nod. "your mother here—she's like the most elegant solution to the most complicated equation in my life."

✧ he’d then sit down beside his child, crossing his legs and leaning forward as if revealing a secret. "one day, you’ll find your perfect match—your own variable to balance things out. it’s like an ongoing experiment in life. but don't rush it! you’ve got plenty of time to gather data, test hypotheses, and figure out what works best for you."

✧ "and if you ever need help, your dad's here for you." with a grin, he’d ruffle their hair in a show of affection. "for now, though, we’ve got a pretty solid family unit here. no need to add more variables just yet." he hums.

✧ as he continued to ramble, you entered the room, finding your husband somewhat lecturing your child. he turns to you with a softer gaze. "our little one will understand it all someday. love is just like… oh, I don’t know, maybe quantum entanglement. two particles, forever linked no matter the distance."

✧ "what wont they understand?" you asked, wiping your hands off of the towel. "also dinner's ready. eating butter chicken today!" you chirped, walking back out and beginning to set the plates down on the table.

✧ eventually, dr. ratio would lean back, satisfied with his explanation. "do you understand?"

✧ your child nods their head eagerly, a wide and happy smile plastered on their face. "mhm!" but dr. ratio knows better.

✧ even if your child doesn't understand their father, that's fine. dr ratio loves them much more than others... he wouldn't mind giving them extra lessons to fully wrap the logic around their little head.

gallagher —

✧ though slovenly but content, he smiled gently as he listened to his daughter’s declaration. he was dressed in his usual disheveled manner—shirt untucked, sleeves rolled up, and an apron stained with coffee and whiskey splashes.

✧ “marry your mother, huh?” he’d say with a soft chuckle, glancing over at you with warmth. "that’s quite the bold statement, kiddo." his daughter does nothing but gaze up lovingly at her dad, awaiting his advice.

✧ the three of you were seated in his usual haunt, a cozy corner of his bar where he’d brought you along for some family time—though even now, he remained courteous, casually nodding at a few patrons who passed by.

✧ wiping down a glass, gallagher would take a moment to think, his vigilance never fully dropping even in such a relaxed setting. "marriage," he’d begin, wiping his hands on his apron, "it’s not something you just do because it sounds nice."

✧ he’d glance at you with a half-smirk, then return his gaze to his daughter. "you see, love—it’s like making the perfect cocktail. you’ve got to find just the right ingredients, mix ’em carefully, and sometimes let it sit before you know it’s ready. rushing it? well, that’s how you end up with a bitter drink."

✧ there goes gallagher and his cocktail analogy.

✧ he tosses a rag over his shoulder, leaning forward, resting his arms on the table. "someone who fits with you like how your mother and i fit together. but don’t go ordering the drink before you’re ready for it, you know?"

✧ you smiled at your daughter, ruffling her hair. "why do you want to marry me, [c/n]?" your daughter turns to you, eyes sparkling with admiration. "because mama is pretty!"

✧ "🥺🥺 oh baby..." brb you're gonna go bawl your eyes out now.

✧ as you hoist your daughter into your arms and hug her tightly, gushing about how adorable she is and that you're the luckiest mother alive, gallagher finishes drying the glasses and watches the both of you with such a soft gaze that siobhan isn't sure if this is the gallagher that she knows, but everyone has their secrets.

✧ "for now," he says—interrupting your little moment— before sliding another glass your way, "we’ve got each other, and that’s more than enough. we’re a solid team. although I'm not sure if i appreciate you trying to steal my wife from me..."

"what did you just say"

jiaoqiu —

✧ jiaoqiu’s ears twitch the moment he heard his daughter’s innocent declaration, his sharp hearing picking up every word. "what did you just say?" his tone shows a hint of jealousy, his eyes narrowing slightly before he caught himself, realizing who had spoken.

✧ this was his daughter, after all—still innocent, still sweet, and still adorable as ever.

✧ clearing his throat and quickly composing himself, jiaoqiu smiled ever so softly, despite not being able to see, he had become accustomed to pinpointing where exactly a person was.

✧ "that is so sweet of you," he say, his voice now softening with affection. his tail flicks in amusement, but there would be no mistaking the tenderness in his tone. "your mother is truly special, isn’t she?"

✧ he pats his daughter's head, his expression full of warmth as he hears her giggle. "you’ve got good taste, of course. but let me tell you, your mom’s already been swept off her feet by someone else—yours truly."

✧ he pulls his daughter close, jiaoqiu ruffles her hair, his grin never fading. "keep that loving heart of yours, and i promise, one day you’ll find someone just as perfect for you. Someone who may or may not outweigh me in terms of cooking.."

✧ jiaoqiu lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he hears his daughter giggle, shaking her head. "just make sure you bring them to me first. i’ll need to give them the old ‘jiaoqiu test,’ alright?"

✧ "oh and make sure they have good taste in food, otherwise they aren't worth it. haha, just kidding.."

luocha —

✧ his green eyes widened slightly at the innocent declaration, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he processed what his daughter had said. luocha gracefully bent down, just enough to meet his daughter's gaze, his golden hair cascading over his shoulders like threads of light.

✧ the tender amusement in his expression didn’t hide the warmth in his eyes as he replied, “you want to marry your mother?”

✧ he paused for a moment as if savouring the sweetness of the moment, before gently pinching her cheeks. “that’s incredibly sweet of you, and it makes me happy to know how much love you have in your heart.” his voice was soft, as though he were speaking a secret known only to them.

✧ with a slow, deliberate motion, luocha brushed a strand of his daughter's hair back, tucking it neatly behind their ear. “but marriage,” he continued, his tone calm, “is a commitment, a bond built on trust and mutual care.”

✧ he glanced over at you (who is smiling like an absolutely mad woman), his smile deepening. “your mother is someone truly remarkable, isn’t she?” he let the words linger each one carrying its own weight. "i’m glad you see how special she is, just as i do.”

✧ luocha took his child’s small hand in his own, his long fingers curling gently around theirs. "you’ve got so much love to give, and that’s something to cherish. always hold onto that kindness, that love."

✧ standing tall again, his coat swaying behind him like a quiet whisper, luocha’s eyes softened even more as he gently lifted his child into his arms, holding them close. “for now,” he said, his voice tender but filled with certainty, “you’re already surrounded by love. our family is your home."

✧ he turns toward you, carrying your child effortlessly in one arm, his other hand reaching out to you. you gladly take it, the familiar warmth blossoming in your body as you feel his sweet gesture.

✧ luocha clears his throat. "that doesn't mean you can marry a boy, okay? boys are good for nothing.." "luocha!!" you frown, slapping his arm. your husband looks down at you, a sweet and innocent smile on his lips. "hm..? i didn't say anything," he hums before planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

ote: if you would like to be added to the honkai star rail taglist pls just ask me!! dont be shy

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[vrystalius]

GI-HUN / PLAYER 456 YOUR YANDERE.

What will happen if the previous winner of the games falls utterly and sickly inlove with you?

Pairing: Gi-hun x fem!reader (x In-ho)

Warnings: non-con themes, gaslighting, unhealthy obsessions, stalker-ish behaviour, sexual/perverse fantasies, slight somnophilia if you squint, groping, violent fantasies, barely read-proof.

Summary, Gi-hun as your yandere: Falling for you, his yandere profile (with nsfw), his jealousy of In-ho

Words in total: 3.4k

In-ho’s yandere profile over here!

Introduction.

Gi-hun is incredibly careful ever since the horrific death games he witnessed and survived. Paranoia followed him everywhere, the feeling of being utterly useless crept more and more to his head as another year passes by without any useable evidence or clues that brought him even a little closer to the people controlling and allowing these games and the dread that tried to lure him into simply giving up.

As he finally managed to join the games once more in firm belief that his hired team of investigators/hitmen and Jun-ho can track his exact location before his hopes were shattered for one another time as he discovered the missing chip in his tooth.

He spotted you for the first time during the Red Light Green Light game. As Gi-hun yelled instructions on when to move and when to freeze, his eyes found your precious face.

You were horrified, that was obvious. Your eyes were darting around in panic as more and more people were shot and bodies hit the floor, your hands shaking slightly despite your best effort to hold them still after seeing a woman get eliminated for having trembling hands, a strangers blood splattered over your face and tears threatening to run down your soft cheeks.

Gi-hun’s voice faltered for a moment. Glancing around and noticing that most people were over the finish line already, he rushed over to your side as quickly as he can and hooked your arm in his, practically dragging across the large hall to force you to move. Instinctively, you clung onto this stranger as he was guiding as carefully as he can to survival.

He released a deep breath he never knew he was holding as he gently lowered your shaking onto the dirt below. Seeing you cower and bow at his feet and thanking him over and over for saving him stirred something inside of him he hasn’t felt in years.

What exactly it was, Gi-hun doesn’t really know.

“You can get up, it was nothing. I am glad you are safe now.”

Yandere profile (SFW part).

- Overcompensating Generosity -

Gi-hun shares every single meal be gets with you. If you ever refuse or kindly decline his offer so he can have more for himself, he will come up with lies about allergies or feeling sick so that you can have even more. He worries that you might be malnourished or don’t have enough energy to live through and survive the next round of games.

He quietly stalks you from the side and makes sure you eat and drink everything up. If you ever complain about being full and sharing a little with Dae-ho or Jun-hee, Gi-hun will gently scold you for not eating properly, almost like a father would in a way.

His hand would ruffle your hair slightly in frustration. The kimbab he gave you was intended to be eaten by you, not… Dae-ho. No matter how much you grew fond of him. But your kindess and compassion to share does put a small smile to his face, even if it frustrates him.

“You shouldn’t be careless. Think about yourself first. Stop sharing your food with others.”

He completely contradicts his own actions by scolding you for offering Jung-hee or Dae-ho some of your share by giving you his own food.

Gi-hun doesn’t only share food but his clothes as well. If yours ever get bloody or if he catches you shiver just once, expect his jacket to immediately be wrapped around your shoulders or offered to you to wear it instead of your bloody one. He did consider giving you his t-shirt and going without one more than once after seeing your face scrunch up in disgust at the sight of someone’s blood on your shirt.

He wants and will do everything in his power to keep that frown of your face. Your smile lights up the whole bunkbed-hall and gives one more reason to keep going. It may sound depressing, but you gave him a reason to live and fight for survival. Even if you don’t know about it yet. He planned on leaving the rest of the money he had for his child and ending his life after the games. What other reason does he have to live for anyway?

Now he has. You are his reason to live. Gi-hun can provide for you, care for you, love , protect and worship you with every cell in his body, if you let him or not, he will find a way to fulfil his new purpose in life and Gi-hun will make you enjoy it.

- Persistent attention -

He is watching you every minute, every hour, every day and all day. Gi-hun insists on taking watch during the night and shooing Jung-bae off just so he can have a moment to himself to watch your adorable sleeping face. He takes mental notes on your sleepy expression, your soft pout, squished cheek as you lay on your side, your hair perfectly falling into place and how your chest was perfectly squished by the mattress or just lift up and down when laying on your back, synchronised with your breathing.

His fingers briefly brushed over your forehead to push some loose strands from your eyes so he can admire you further, a soft smile resting on his face. Watching you and knowing that you are safe brings makes his heart race a little slower when around you. One less thing to worry about.

For some reason, Gi-hun knows more about you than you do yourself. He can predict when you need to use the bathroom by watching what and when you drink. He knows your sleeping schedule and your favourite position to lay in. He knows what food you prefer despite barely mentioning it. He knows what to say to make you smile, his favourite expression on you, and how to comfort you when you are scared. Gi-hun also constantly “helps” you in a way that includes physical touch.

He might close your zipper up, his fingers briefly brushing over your chest, or tucking you into your bunkbed as if you were a child needing constant care.

Even if it may seem sweet from time to time, it does feel incredibly overbearing and annoying when Gi-hun goes ahead and “helps” you with eating food as if you’re not capable doing so yourself (embarrassing you in front of the others during the process) or offering you to go to the bathroom with you for protection, waiting outside with the guard while you did your business.

Somehow, even the stationed guard felt creeped out by him.

⁎⁺˳ — A mini scenario starts here. —

You were afraid to fall asleep at night despite Gi-hun assuring you that he will keep watch at all times. Your eyes were tired and heavy but your mind just couldn’t relax, couldn’t rest. No matter how hard you tried your own body forced you awake, believing that you are in immediate danger.

Paranoia kept swirling inside your mind as your eyes floated around the room. Did that shadow in the corner just move? Or was your exhaustion finally catching up with you?

“Hey.” Gi-hun’s voice ripped you out of trance like state as you flinched violently in surprise. His heavy hand carefully brushed over your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you as it rubbed back and forth slowly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The soft red light of the X marking on the floor illuminated his face to the point where you could read his soft expression. Worry was etched into his face. “Can’t sleep?” His voice was mich quieter now, trying to provide a little more comfort. His hand slowly made its way down to your waist as it began rubbing gentle circles there. You slowly nodded your head as you shifted your position to carefully shake his hand off.

You rolled over onto your back and Gi-hun smiled slightly. His fingers brushed some hair strands out of your face, briefly brushing over your soft cheek to savour your warmth a little more.

“Let me…” Without asking, Gi-hun suddenly gently scooted you aside to make space for himself as he crawled into your bunk bed, wrapping his arms around your smaller body. His hand began running through your hair, untying knots and feeling their softness. You uncomfortably shifted under him. “I-I can sleep on my own—“ “It’s okay, I’ll stay here.”

His voice left little space for arguments, just as much as his arms did. They were tightly wrapped around your back and waist, pressing you so firmly against his body that you could swear he was trying to absorb you. His nose brushed over the top of your head briefly, nuzzling into your hair.

“Close your eyes, I’ll keep you safe.”

⁎⁺˳ — End of the mini scenario here. —

If you ever try to tell him about how uncomfortable it makes you when he keeps on treating you like you’re incapable of being independent and thinking/acting on your own. Gi-hun first on denies being so overbearing with you and insists that it’s all you’re exaggerating, mistaking his simple kindness for whatever you’re talking about.

“Why are you so unreasonable? I’m trying to help you stay alive in these games. Don’t you want to survive and go back home? Let me take care of this, of you. You’ll die without me.”

- Idealisation -

Gi-hun put you on a pedestal the moment you came into his life. To him, you embody perfection, kindness, beauty, patience… Everything good in the world. Whoever dares to taint your image just the slightest earns themselves a night visit by Gi-hun himself to force their eyes away from you (and everything else) forever.

He’ll downplay or outright ignore all your “bad” or “negative” traits, fully believing that you could never do or feel wrong. Even your tears, your anger, your fear makes him feel absolute euphoria since you blessed him with the opportunity to witness your emotions on full display.

He sees you as his saviour and the one who will cure all of his illnesses, mental and physical. You fill the void in the man’s heart and he believes, no, knows, that you will bring Gi-hun everything he ever longer for; happiness, stability, protection, hope, absolute love and eternal devotion.

He fantasises every hour about having a perfect future with you together; a rural house somewhere quiet and peaceful, a child or maybe children (wether you want them or not), worshipping the ground you walk on everyday and come home with a new bouquet of flowers whenever he returns from grocery shopping. A fulfilling family life.

If you ever voice something that would go against his fantasies and imagination, for example that you don’t even want to marry him, Gi-hun will become visibly depressed and deflated, going as far as stopping to eat until you comfort him and shower him in attention, encouraging his fantasies once more.

- NSFW -

Gi-hun cannot control his own body anymore to the point of constantly finding his hard on pressing against the damn pants of the track suit uniform. Concealing it is hard so he either uses your pillow to cover it up and letting it rest on his lap until it finally calms and goes down or he sneaks off to the bathrooms, basically pleading with the guard to let him use the men’s room in the middle of the night.

During masturbation, you are again the only thing on his mind. He teases himself my cupping himself by the base harshly, makes himself whimper broken parts or your name by brushing his thumb over his leaving tip and drown himself in the fantasy that you are right there, with him, your hand on his cock and furiously jerking him off while the lewd Schlick Schlick Schlick sounds echo through the bathroom.

He also likes using your belongings and things to pleasure himself. Your pillow, for example. Gi-hun secretly swapped it out with yours while you weren’t looking and now has it pressed between his thighs tightly during the night when everyone is asleep, pathetically grinding onto it, thinking about where exactly he went wrong again and again as thought of your soft lips leaving burning kisses all over his body, your soft voice whispering encouragements and praises into his ear before switching around and calling him your obedient slut as you edge him over and over.

Gi-bun bites down onto the thin blanket to muffle his pathetic whines as he coats the inside of his boxers with sprays of his warm cum, his head falling back and his eyes tightly shut, not ready to leave his fantasy just yet and open his eyes to find himself back in the damn death games. He cuddles onto the thin of his blanket as if it were you lying right beside him, comforting him after such a rough and unforgiving session of imaginary praise, edging and your soft coos.

He does get more and more perverted and rather desperate at times when his fantasies aren’t enough anymore. Gi-hun lets his hand “accidentally” brush over your backside before profusely apologising over for his honest mistake. You forgive him and wave it off of course. Your forgiveness and the way you wave it off so quickly pushes Gi-hun to go further, do more, *feel* more. His hand frequently brushed over your backside, his palms gently pat on top your chest after zipping your jacket close, his fingers briefly brushing over your soft thighs while you slept, lingering close to your core but never daring to outright touch it. Yet.

When it comes to thought of sex with, Gi-hun gets all shy when even thinking about doing it with you. He isn’t the youngest and his stamina is not the best either. It was a long, long time since he felt anyone else be wrapped around his cock than his own fist working up and down so what if he forgets what to do? What if you’ll be disappointed? What if you become disgusted by him and leave him forever? He doesn’t want to think of that so he finds himself content with just finishing inside his boxers, hand and all over your pillow.

Gi-hun gets incredibly ashamed of himself after cumming to the fantasy of you being there with him, encouraging him. He beats himself up over being so utterly in love with you, such a perfect, young woman. You would never love a middle aged man like him, he is sure of it. He knows he has to somehow make you love him, at least just a little. Make you learn to love him, accept his care, teach you how to pleasure him properly, keep you all to himself and shut you away from the world, all the perverts and men that ogle you when you simply exist.

The world is too cruel, too corrupted, too perverted for a naive thing like you.

- NSFW ends here -

Gihun’s jealousy.

The moment In-ho joined his little alliance group he immediately felt inferior to him. He is intelligent, charismatic, dependable, kind. Everything Gi-hun barely ever is. It’s no wonder you got so attached to someone like him, the way your eyes sparkle when In-ho begins to talk or explain something, how fascinated you looked after he put Thanos in his place by demonstrating his strength, how you complimented his kindness after he gave his milk carton to Jun-hee. It makes him feel sick and incredibly angry at his friend for seemingly no reason other than existing near you.

Gi-hun slouches in his seat and fiddles with his fingers as he watches you have some small-talk with In-ho during breakfast. He’ll compare himself to In-ho in every way he possibly can, from his appearance to behaviour and actions.

Gi-hun watches him closely and tries to study his gestures and the way he presents himself, subconsciously mimicking everything his does in hopes to appeal to you even more.

He’ll start over analysing every single, every small interaction between you, imagining and spiralling himself into dark thoughts. He somehow fully convinced himself that by you clinging onto In-ho during the six-legged game means that you are in love with him and will end up marrying him after the games (despite the fact that you held onto your life on Dae-ho and In-ho’s shoulders, scared you’ll trip. But Gi-hun is just focused on your touch with In-ho).

Gi-hun becomes much more irrational as he keeps switching back and forth between showering you in love and affection and accusing you with trying to sleep with In-ho. One moment he is happily sharing his meal with you, admiring your hamster-like cheeks as you chewed on the food he shared with you before passively-aggressively interrogating you about why you even looked at the other man.

“You and In-ho seem to get along really well. What’s going on between you two? Are you trying to seduce him?”

It rarely happens but Gi-hun does explode out of rage sometimes, mostly when you two are alone and after letting his chronic jealousy get suppressed. He’ll scream and yell, vividly gesturing around, accusing you of everything you can be possibly accused of; having sex with him, wanting sex from him, loving him, thinking about marriage, you thinking In-ho is soo much better than him, you seducing the man… Gi-hun would’ve gone on and on, yelling and screaming at your trembling form as you were totally confused on why he was so angry if not for a guard that stepped in and dragged him back into the halls of bunkbeds with the other players.

In-ho. In-ho. In-ho. Whenever you say In-ho’s name, Gi-hun could throw his guts out or snap his own neck. He both wants to die and murder someone whenever his name slips through your soft lips. It makes him want to break your jaw so you could never utter his name again or bash your head in to the point of not being able to think about anything but himself, Gi-hun, your caring and generous future husband you don’t know about yet.

⁎⁺˳ — A mini scenario starts here. —

“You seem awfully tense. Is everything alright, Gi-hun?” In-ho’s voice sounded sincere. He scooted a little closer to his friend and leaned forward to rest his arms on his thighs, a concerned look on his face.

Gi-hun didn’t bother to spare him a glance and kept his eyes glued to the ground below him as he kept clenching and unclenching his fist. “I’m fine. Just worried about the games and all.” He lied through his teeth and turned his face away from him, earning a hum from the man beside him. In-ho placed a warm hand on his shoulder and gave it a small pat.

“If you are worrying about your darling, don’t worry. She is too smart and fast, she’s a real fighter. We’ll keep her safe together though, won’t we?”That statement shook Gi-hun to the core. We? Who exactly is we? He turned his head to finally look into his eyes, trying to see if he was trying to joke or being serious right now. He’d thought about letting In-ho purposefully die in the next game if it means to finally end this friendship or whatever it was between you and In-ho, but he always felt ashamed to think of someone like that right after. But not right now.

Right now, staring at that man’s face, Gi-hun wished he could wrap his hands around his neck and shut him up forever. Cut off all the air and watch as the life leaves his eyes, personally making sure that he will never talk, look or even breathe your way. How dare he. How dare he touch you, how dare he make smile, how dare he make you happy, how dare he do the life-long-job Gi-hun assigned to himself and only himself.

Gi-hun’s thoughts spiralled further. Surely In-ho fantasises about you too. About how the fat of your ass jiggles ever so slightly when you walk, how your chest stretches against the fabric of your jacket, how beautiful you’d look covered in his cum, how it would feel to take and taint you as his and only his.

And yet, he forced his violent thoughts away and let out a small sigh. Gi-hun nodded and turned to look away from In-ho again, not able to bear to have bim in his sight without fantasising about bashing his skull into the bed frame until his brain was mush and never able to conjure another thought again.

“Sure. Let’s keep her safe.”

⁎⁺˳ — End of the mini scenario here. —

💠

Author’s note.

Oh wow, I wasn’t nervous about posting like this since the first time I ever posted. To be fair this is kind of my first time posting about something else than Demon Slayer, soo… Also, Dae-ho is my baby, my precious. I need to hold him and tell him that everything will be okay and that it’s okay to feel scared. 🥺 Poor baby is so traumatised. Anyways, rant about Dae-ho over.

Make sure to EAT, DRINK and SLEEP enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[rafesfawn]

🪽🧺 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋

𝜗ৎ⋆｡˚ when rafe sees a precious little doll on the side of the road with a broke-down car, how can he resist out of the kindness of his heart offering her a ride? just a ride home, that's all...

or how trailerpark!angel!reader and rafe met!

warnings: use of the nickname pet & little one, reader! is eighteen-nineteen! bit of perv!rafe, barely proofread!

a/n: first time writing a rafe fic/blurb! im so excited, also this is based on this ask and thank you so much for sending something I really appreciated it and I hope u like it mwah! I would say you two meet in like early season 2 (right before the cross storyline) also for the format slight ib to others on here esp @rafesangelita (sorry for the tag!)

this was based off of this ask! which tysm i literally love requests and rafe and trailerpark!angel!reader is my new obsession <3

a small, meaningless kick was made to the tire while you huffed and groaned, putting two hands over your frustrated features as all you wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

“piece of shit,” you mumbled under your breath, kicking the tire once more, but immediately a whimper fell from your lips. the pain shot from your toe up to your spine. making you sniffle and tip-toe in pain. in your denim ruffle skirt, white socks, and pink converse, you sat down on the asphalt, on the side of the road, leaning against the side of your broken-down car.

she wasn’t the best car, but she surely got you around most of the time. most of the time. it was a little volkswagen beetle, light pink in color, covered in so many stickers some wondered if it was passing inspection. it wasn't.

sitting with your head against the car for what felt like hours (it was maybe ten minutes), but spending even that on the side of a main road in kildare island was torture. especially with the beating sun late august provided.

rafe was speeding down the road on the way to play golf and get drunk with topper and kelce. “ah shit, i don’t know, man.” he said into his phone, holding it up with one hand; his voice gruff and confident, topper on the other line. “you really think i won’t kick your ass today huh?” a smirk grew on his already smug expression.

letting out a short chuckle at toppers response, nothing anybody ever said meant more than a laugh to him. or that's what it used to be like anyway, his act wasn't together if anything, it was worse than it'd ever been. his father condemning him to disingenuous "discipline" to forget about the possible death of his golden daughter.

"the fuck?" he mutters into the mic, his voice laced with confusion. as he sees up ahead on the road, a pink car broken down, with the most precious thing sitting against it. a pout on the angels soft lips and the most defeated look in her eye. aw, you just fell right into my lap, didn't you? little angel.

your eyes glued on the pavement, your entertainment of watching a little ladybug try to make it to safety in the distance, was shortly interrupted.

a nice black truck coming into view it came to such a short stop it almost took your breath away, the breaks slightly screeching at the haste. a tire replaced the spot the ladybug once was.

you stood brushing the dirt and gravel off the backsides of your pale thighs, left bare by the short fabric of your skirt.

the man stepped out of the truck. he was tall, and the sleeves of his polo looked like they were about to burst at the seams, not able to contain the biceps beneath. his features strong and statue-like, his deep sea eyes hidden behind the curtain bangs that hung over his forehead. a grin that seemed too genuine, too good to be true.

you removed your heart-shaped sunglasses, placing them on top of your head to see him more clearly. your possible savior, but he was anything but.

he stepped a bit closer, seeing the state of her already pretty beaten car, "having some car trouble?" rafe asked as if he wasn't stating the obvious.

you pretended he wasn't either as you nodded, the frown only slight now but still on your lips as your eyes remained looking up into his.

"aw.. poor thing we can't have that, what happened?" his voice, a mockery of sympathy. as he inspected the piece of shit car she loved so much. his care coming from a place of ownership, of burning ache or want.

still, in slight shock, you hadn't answered him, following behind him as he reopened the hood like he owned the car. not even realizing you'd been rude and not replied till he spoke again. "little one, i can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong." a heady mix of gentle and firm that made your mouth go dry and your head dizzy.

"oh- it's been on her last limb for like ever, i guess she finally called it quits... right on my way home." you said with a little sad laugh that rafe wanted to bottle the sound of and listen to on repeat. "and I really need to get home," you added fiddling with your fingers in front of you.

a sweet girl all out of options, rafe was so glad he was here to provide her with his help. "tell you what, I'll take you home and come back and fix this thing up for you, huh?" he offered, there goes his saturday plans he presumed. it'd be worth it. he told himself he'd make it worth it, with those shy eyes and the expression you carried like a lost puppy. you'd owe him he'd make sure to get something in return.

just like he figured, you shook your head. never wanting to accept such a grand favor. "I can't ask you to do that, I mean, I don't even know your name." nerves, curiosity, and a glint of something else tinged in your voice, so many wonders in that head as soon as his truck came to a stop for you. why? the only question running through your mind.

"It's rafe, can I help you out now?" his genuine grin turned almost smug at his own remark, brushing that bangs out his face, the effort pointless as they immediately fell back again.

you paused. picking at the already chipped white nail polish on your sore fingertips, a larger-rougher hand covered your own, stopping your movements with that firm gentleness he carried around her. you looked up at him, he was so much closer. the scent of some cologne that probably could pay your rent, and a tinge of smokey wood filled your senses.

"pet?" he questioned with an expecting tilt of his head, calling you that like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your body and mouth responding before giving another second for your brain or anxiety to think it over, you nodded. "can you please give me a ride home?" you hesitantly asked, it felt weird. getting help, and even asking for it felt foreign, he offered it so graciously like it was nothing.

looking down upon her, his grin turned genuine once again, his eyes seemed almost proud it was a soothing balm to her nervous heart. a rosy hue to her cheeks as his palm covered the side of her neck, making a few pats to the flesh before leading her to his truck.

you'd owe him. something he was sure you were ready for.

[nikovraskol]

crack baby ; prologue

wc ; 1572 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; death, neglect, brief mention of drugs, curse words

prologue, one, tbc..

Your death was completely preventable.

As you lay on the concrete floor of the cold alleyway, you can’t help but feel a sense of peace. Yeah, sure, you were shot 5 times and you’re currently bleeding out in some piss-smelling drug-ridden pavement. At least you’ve died in a somewhat honorable way, people will have a tell to tale, whether it’s good or bad, you’ll be remembered for a while.

Or maybe that’s wishful thinking, maybe the lack of blood is making you delirious. There’s no way you’ll be remembered as anything but the child that haunts the manor, that stalks around, staring at the residents of the Wayne manor with hopeful eyes. A child who doesn’t belong, who’s body isn’t able to fill in the cracks in the family, a child who wasn’t able to give anything, to devout anything.

A child of 21, but a child nonetheless. 

The way you got caught up in the shooting was so unbelievably stupid, you were too nice to refuse taking on an extra shift from your co-worker, working overtime for free because you didn’t know how to say no. You got caught up in a fight between goons on your way home. For a brief moment, that small child you had buried foolishly believed your father would swoop down and protect you.

Then you were shot, again and again and again.

You don’t want to die, you decide at the last minute. You want to go back in time, to tell your poor 16-year-old self that yearning for the love of a family who doesn’t have love to give is foolish. A foolish child dying a foolish death.

And then, your eyes shut for the last time, you can almost hear your mother’s low humming, the smell of the dingy, old apartment you used to live in with her, you can taste the cold food she worked to provide (you can feel her hands on your neck, can hear her apologies ringing over and over as she cries).

It’s peaceful, almost nice.

Until you wake up – and your first thought is; what the fuck?

Your hand instinctively moves to your lower abdomen where you were shot – you were shot! You remember the burning pain shooting through you, so why on earth are you unharmed and.. in your bedroom?

It’s strange, why are your old posters up? Trinkets you distinctly remember throwing out, clothes you don’t wear thrown about – and that’s when it happens.

Your eyes catch a reflection in the mirror, your reflection. Your reflection that isn’t yours, why is

your hair shorter? Why are you so small– why are you.. Sixteen?

“What the fuck?” You hiss, jumping out of bed – wobbling as you whip your head around, taking in every nook and cranny of the small room. “What the fuck?!” 

You jump towards the mirror, leaning in as you slap, pinch and stretch your face, awed by the youthful appearance, you had forgotten how cute you looked. No, that seems like the wrong word, you looked sixteen. Just an average sixteen year old, healthy and alive (somehow).

A few moments ago you were lying in a pool of your blood in a run-down alley, an unloved 21 year old – now you’re sixteen again, and you have a chance to change the inevitable! If you ignore the pit of dread in your stomach. Sixteen had been the worst year of your life, full of anger and hormones and teenage drama. Sixteen had been the year you struggled the most.

On the bright side, at least you had a trial run..?

“Young Master (Name)” A british, familiar voice calls out and you tense, whipping your head around to see Alfred. It had almost slipped your mind, Alfred is alive. He’s standing before you, as straight and proper as always, smiling at you as if nothing had changed. As if you hadn’t sobbed at his funeral, as if you hadn’t cursed your family for dragging him into their mess, as if you hadn’t spent countless nights at his grave, as if–

“Are you.. alright?” He asks, taking in the flabbergasted expression on your face – to which you straighten up, nodding with a shaken exhale as you ignore the churning of your stomach. You felt nauseous, everything felt too real in an uncomfortable way. A very uncomfortable way – the mix of emotions threatening to consume you.

“You didn’t come down for breakfast, I was beginning to grow worried.” He explains, taking in the way you nod blankly once more, his brows furrowing. “Is– everything alright”

“Y– yes, I’m just not hungry, I’ll– have something later.” You can’t keep your voice from trembling, you’re five seconds away from breaking down and sobbing before him, but you don’t want to worry him. You need to figure out a game plan, you’ve no time for stupid pleasantries like food, plus even if you tried to eat you’d probably throw up then break down sobbing.

“Alright, Young Master. But please, eat something before noon.” Alfred sighs, clearly worried by your peculiar behaviour, his eyes lingering for a moment too long before he leaves your room, shutting the door behind him with a resounding click. Oh fuck, how are you supposed to interact with anyone in this family if a two minute interaction is enough to have you trembling? Whatever, it matters not! You fumble around with your face for another moment before letting out a long sigh, your head already aching from the bewilderment of the situation. You shuffle over to your bed, plopping down with another huff. You had no idea what to do, no plan to go forward, but you had to figure something out. 

You couldn’t stay in the Manor, you couldn’t deal with the dismissive eyes, the fake words of reassurance. You couldn’t stand curling up in your room, listening to the distant sounds of laughter as everyone celebrated without you. You couldn’t stand being that child again.

“I need to leave.” You say with more firmness than you had intended, your eyes set on the mirror before you. Of a sixteen-year-old (Name), staring back at you with pitiful eyes, you’ll get them out, you’ll give them a future – you’ll give yourself a future.

“Okay. Now, where do I begin?” You mumble, staring up at your ceiling before reaching for your phone. Time to go house hunting at sixteen. Yipee.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Alfred was picking up your plate with a thoughtful expression, breakfast had always been your favourite time of day because it always gave you a chance to see your family. No matter how you felt, or how busy you were. How peculiar.

It’s unusual for you to so blatantly skip it, there’s also that whole thing with your demeanour. Something in you had shifted, and he didn’t like it – it felt as though you were slipping away, as though you had resigned, as though you had stepped back, content in living as a shadow lurking in the dark corners of the Manor.

That simply won’t do. 

He won’t give up on that smiling child, looking up at him with their front tooth missing, dirt staining their clothes as they ramble on about how they found a top secret hide-out, how they can’t wait to tell your big brothers their adventures. 

Well, he’s sure with a few clever strings pulled he can finally put you on centre stage, with the lights shining on you. He just needs to remember to reserve a front row seat, for himself, of course.

“What the fuck?” You grumble, repeating that sentence for the nth time as you angrily type on your phone – why is every apartment in this city and the city over so bummy? It’s either too expensive or overridden with rats or overtaken by gangs.

You never moved houses in your past (?) life, staying in the Wayne Manor was easy once you accepted the inevitability of chasing after a fruitless relationship. Plus, the housing in Gotham and Bludhaven has always been..

Well, it could be better!

“(Name).” Your heart jumps out of your chest as an strangely familiar voice calls out for you, dark, low, paternal. Who on earth?

Your heart sinks as your eyes shift to the figure at your door. Batman, Bruce Wayne, your father, is in your room? What the fuck? This had never happened in your life, certainly not at sixteen. You can recall every single time you’ve ever seen your family, so why? Your hand curls around your phone as you gape up at your father. This isn’t supposed to happen. The one thing grounding you through this crazy, disconnecting experience was the comfort that you were familiar with your future, that you had a grasp on what events are bound to go down.

You’ve been awake for about twenty minutes – how’s it already changed?! Inside you, a deep part of your soul shifts, the air in the room suddenly being sucked in by his overwhelming presence, his eyes – cold and calculating, sizing you up as if you were a specimen, as though you were a pretty piece of silver at an auction and not his flesh and blood, your breathing become uneven as you try to grasp at your memory, anything that might've slipped your mind regarding interactions with your father.

You draw a blank, this has never happened. It's not supposed to happen – what the fuck?!

“Let’s go for a walk.”

yall i feel like this sucks i havent written in like two years im so rusty omg im so embarresed ill die bye

[peachessndreamss]

Weirwood Tree

Summery : While in labour with their second child, Cregan and his wife take s short walk to the Weirwood tree to help get things moving.

Characters : Cregan Stark x f!wife reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings : Pregnancy and childbirth (nothing explicit)

Word count : 3k

A/N : Turns out you never shake being a Stark girl, Ily Cregan so much.

“I’m sorry t’say it, my lady, but your labours have slowed up,” the midwife said softly as she drew the sheets back over Lady Starks bent knees before dipping her hands in a bowl of water. 

“Slowed up?” Lady Stark repeated incredulously, dropping her head back on the feather pillow, “but it's been hours already,” she added, tears burning her eyes. 

The second child of Lord Cregan stark and his lady wife was in no rush to make their way into the world. Despite the frequency and strength of her earlier pains once the midwife and maester had been sent for, everything seemed to have come to an uncomfortable halt.  

The midwife had brought her ancient grandmother along with her, known through Winterfell and the winter town as Auld Joan, she had been a midwife in her own time and had delivered Cregan's father and uncle. She was mostly blind and deaf now but still attended births but spent most of the time sitting as close to a heat source as possible and dispensing wisdom if necessary. She was currently sitting in a chair next to the roaring fire, her ancient hands clasped on her lap, knuckles bulging out of shape and fingers curled like claws. 

“I know it's been a while,” the midwife said soothingly, placing a warm hand on Lady Stark's knee, “but sometimes it's just like this,”. 

“The last one wasn't like this,” Lady Stark grumbled, her mood darkening as she tried to shift around into a more comfortable position. 

“You mustn't compare one with another,” the midwife soothed before touching a cold cloth to the lady's forehead. 

“A walk will geyit moving ,” the old woman wheezed from her seat by the fire, “no’ this lying about,”. 

The maester, who had been mostly disinterested in proceedings up until this point shot the old woman a dark look, he was standing in the far corner of the room, a leather case of vicious metal tools clutched jealously to his chest. His grey robes matched his grey and sickly looking skin. He wasn't particularly interested in births or deaths or the everyday ailments of life and resented being summoned to the birthing room of any woman. 

“This position is agreed upon as being the correct way for labouring mothers,” he said coldly in a clipped southern accent. 

“Agreed by men who know nothing about it,” the crone grumbled. 

“What does she mean?” Lady Stark asked the midwife who was now gently feeling the swell of the lady's belly. 

“Baby's not quite in righ’ place, that's why things have slowed,” she explained as she pressed on the left side of the belly, Lady Stark winced, “but grandmother thinks a little walk might get things moving again,”. 

The midwife glanced over at her grandmother who had closed her eyes and was now looking peaceful in the flickering light of the fire, she looked back at her lady and dabbed the cloth over her cheeks before putting it back beside the bowl of cold water. 

“What do you think?”Lady Stark asked. 

She shrugged, making a point not to look towards the maester before replying. 

“It helped me with mine, and it wouldn't do you any harm,”. 

The maester opened his mouth to disagree and lady stark held up her hand to silence him. 

“Just walking through the keep, out into the godswood for the fresh air should do it,” the midwife continued. 

The lady nodded and lifted herself up onto her elbows, she addressed the maester, privately enjoying ordering the sour faced man about. 

“Lord Cregan is outside the door, fetch him in,” she said. 

Cregan Stark had paced the halls outside of his wife's rooms since he'd been asked to leave them several hours before. While he wasn't accustomed to being removed from parts of his own castle he respected that father's, even lords, were not expected to be present at the births of their children,so he was surprised to hear the door opening when he was fairly certain nothing much had happened yet. 

“My Lord?” The voice of the maester echoed off the walls as the lord strode into view, “your wife would like to see you,”. 

He nodded, his face stern as he stepped past the man and into the warm, dark room. 

“Seven Hells,” he murmured as he pulled at the collar of his shirt, instantly feeling the heat of the room rolling over him like a wave, sweat breaking out on his forehead and upper lip. 

As he looked around the room he was surprised to see the midwife helping his wife into her fur boots, a long, heavy cloak already covering her shoulders. 

“Going somewhere?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

She turned her flushed face to him and smiled. 

“Yes, we're going for a walk,”. 

Cregan’s brows rose but he nodded without further comment, knowing better than to ask questions.  He watched nervously as the midwife helped his wife to her feet, ready to spring forward at any moment if it looked like Lady Stark might lose her balance. 

Once he was happy she was safely on her feet, Cregan stepped towards them, offering his arm to his wife, who took a small step and linked her arm through his. 

“Twice around the godswood’ll do it,” Auld Joan spoke from the chair, she opened one ancient eye that could just be seen through the folds of skin that made up her face. 

“Or as far as you need’t,” the midwife added, her eyes flicking towards the maester. 

From the darkest corner of the room the maester muttered under his breath “foolishness” but no one else could hear him or pay him a moment's more attention. 

As the Lord and Lady of Winterfell stepped out of the stifling room and into the cooler corridor of the keep they both gave a sigh of relief. As they walked they instinctively drew closer to one another. Finding comfort and strength in each other's presence. 

“This is an unexpected pleasure,” Cregan said as they stepped through the door of the keep and into the much colder air of the inner bailey. The ground was a mess of mud, straw, snow and grey brown slush that cracked and crunched under their boots. 

“Yes,” she agreed, her hand tightening on his arm as her foot slipped a little on a patch of hidden ice, “Auld Joan felt this would be the best way to get things moving again,”. 

Cregan nodded, “She's seen a fair few babes born in her time, she knows what she's talking about,” he paused and took a deep breath of cold air, “I think she might have even delivered my grandfather,”. 

“Surely not!” She exclaimed, looking up at her husband's handsome profile, “that would make her more than a hundred years old,”. 

“I've heard of stranger things in these parts,” Cregan said with a shrug. 

They walked quietly together, moving slowly and carefully through the slush.

“Not as easy as last time then?” He asked as they made their way past the archery butts where the young men of the household were practising and past the stables with their snorting horses and young boys shovelling straw. 

“No, this one seems to have an obstinate Stark streak in them already,” she replied with a soft laugh that sounded like music to Cregan's ears. 

“I seem to recall your own family are known for their stubbornness so I won't be taking all the responsibility for that,”. 

“Pigheadedness, I believe my father called it,” she replied with a laugh, Cregan gave his own snort of laughter. 

“Your father certainly has a way with words,” he agreed. Recalling a few choice phrases her father had used for him during their courtship. 

As the pair crossed into the godswood the sounds of the keep and the town beyond the walls seemed to fade away and they became the only two people in the world. The ground was covered in a dusting of snow which had frozen overnight and now crunched under foot. From the dark canopy of the trees small birds sang between themselves and bounced from branch to branch, leaves rusting and falling to the ground in their wake. 

“Aly is worried we won't have enough time for her when the baby arrives,” Lady Stark said as they passed under the first dark boughs, “she kept asking me if we were going to send her away when I was putting her to bed last night,”. 

“She's a sensitive soul,” Cregan replied with a soft laugh, his mind wandering to the little girl who was at that moment playing in the same nursery he played in as a child, waiting for his own younger sibling to be born. 

“I dread the day we do need to send her away,” she lamented, drawing her body even closer to his in the cold air. Her free hand resting low on the swell of her belly. 

“We've many years before that day, my love,” he soothed, “and perhaps many more babes to fill our home,”. 

Lady Stark laughed softly, feeling the dull ache of her labours growing in strength as they followed the well known path through the trees.

“You are insatiable, always wanting more,” she said softly and Cregan laughed. 

They had been married 6 years and now were as comfortable with one another as any married couple could expect to be. Having been friends before they’re union had made things easier but the months after Cregan’s return from war had tested them to their limits. The time spent apart had been long and difficult for the both of them, when Cregan had left he was already old beyond his years but on his return he was darker and colder than the longest winter night. He’d forgotten laughter, softness and gentleness and his first few months back in Winterfell had been fraught as the two learned to live with one another again and find their way back to the happiness they’d briefly shared before the dragons tore the realm apart. 

The followed a well trodden path through the woods, her arm wrapped tightly through his and his hand resting over hers, warm and solid. As they walked, Cregan listened to her breathing, noticing every change to her breath and hitch in her voice. He was ready to take her in his arms at any moment to rush her back to the midwife if was necessary. 

They turned a corner in the path and were now on course to the weirwood tree, its ancient face seemed to watch their approach and its blood red leaves reflected in the black water at its roots. 

Suddenly Lady Stark stopped, her free hand going to her belly with a sharp intake of breath, she groaned, her teeth biting into her top lip as a strong contraction wracked her body. Cregan tightened his hold on her, fear gripping at his heart and twisting his stomach. 

After a few seconds of pain her face relaxed and her eyes opened, her cheeks were flushed with colour and despite the cold there was sweat at her hair line. 

“I think this might be working,” she said with a small smile, “or perhaps the baby can feel the tree,” she added, glancing toward the weirwood. 

“A good Stark then,” Cregan replied, forcing a lightness in his voice he didn’t feel. 

She stepped toward the tree and he followed her closely, never letting her more than an arm's reach from him. Once close enough she placed her hands on the tree, feeling the rough bark rasp against her skin. 

“Do you think the old kings of the north were born under this tree?” she asked, turning her face up as a shaft of wintery sunlight broke through the dense leaf cover, “snow and leaves for their midwife?”.

Cregan raised his eyebrow in thought for a moment before replying. 

“They were certainly conceived under it,” he smiled.   

“Yes, I remember the stories,” she agreed, turning to look at her husband and seeing the playful glimmer in his eyes. 

During the long months of the war she’d found comfort in the thousands of books in the Winterfell library, starting with the histories of the North going all the way back to the first men and how those ancient kings of the North did everything important in their lives in sight of a weirwood tree, they were born, married, made oaths and died as close to the trees as they possibly could. The histories had included stories of rituals the ancient peoples had contrived to conceive their children under the boughs of the weirwood trees, they believed these children would have the gifts of prophecy or live impossibly long lives because the powers of the tree flowed through them. 

“Perhaps, when you’re healed, we should try it ourselves,” Cregan teased. 

“When this one is delivered I’ll let you know if you’ll be welcome in my bed again,” she replied with a sly smile, before adding “my lord,”. 

Cregan gave a bark-like laugh, stepping closer to her and slipping his arm over her lower back and around her waist. She turned to face him, moving her hands from the ancient and cold bark of the tree to the living warmth of his shoulders, she studied his features before taking a deep breath and letting her forehead press against his. Another contraction wracked her body, she groaned and gripped tightly at the fur and wool of his cloak, taking strength from his body into her own. 

“I think we need to go back,” she said softly, their foreheads still pressed together. 

“I think so,” he agreed without hesitation.

Keeping his arm wrapped around her waist the two of them turned, she leaned heavily on Cregan as they completed the loop around the godswood and headed back through the castle courtyard. The space now almost completely empty as most of the household had been summoned for the midday meal. 

The progress was slow but they soon made it back to Lady Stark’s chambers, the room was cooler now, the windows had been thrown open but the coverings drawn across them to keep the room dark. The two women were sitting by the fire, talking quietly while the maester was still standing in the corner of the room, glaring. 

The midwife jumped to her feet and took Lady Stark’s arm, allowing her to slip from Cregan’s hold and move toward the bed. 

“How are you feeling my lady?” the midwife asked softly. 

“It helped, the pains are coming much more quickly now,” the lady replied. 

“Baby will be here soon,” the midwife agreed, “perhaps before the noon meal is over,”

Lady Stark glanced over her shoulder at her husband pausing by the door. His broad shoulders blocked out almost all of the hallway behind him.

“I want you to stay,” she said softly as she was helped back onto the bed. 

He smiled but shook his head. 

“This is not my place” he said softly, as he felt a burning sensation at the back of his throat and in his eyes as he fought the sudden overwhelm of emotions. 

“Thank you, my lord,” the old crone said from her seat, “we’ll take care of them,”.

Cregan nodded, knowing well enough when he was being asked to leave, he gave his wife a final look before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind himself and resuming his pacing. He wondered if his own father had paced nervously or if he had taken to the woods to hunt until the deed was over with and the child was cleaned and neatly wrapped in a blanket. He couldn’t imagine being any further than the castle gate while Lady Stark laboured. 

As the midwife predicted the midday meal hadn’t finished before there was the high pitched, squalling cry of a newborn that caused Cregan to stop in his tracks and lean heavily against the wall of the hallway, his hand clutching at his heart that was beating fast enough to burst. 

The door to the chambers opened and the midwife stepped out, a smile on her face as she saw her lord in a moment of unguarded emotion. 

 “A son, my lord, hale and hearty and with plenty to say for himself,” she said, the sounds of the crying child still coming clearly from the room behind her. 

“God's be praised,” Cregan said, his voice cracking with emotion. 

“Come meet him,”. 

Cregan felt his knees turn to water when he stepped into Lady Stark's rooms, the sight of his beloved wife cradling a squalling newborn was a joy that pierced his heart like an arrow. 

“Your son, my lord” she said with a tired smile, turning the bundle just enough for Cregan to be able to see the child's face. 

He stooped and took the child, cradling him close to his chest, for a few seconds the child stopped wailing, his blue eyes opening wide and taking in his first sight of his father. The two of them looked at each other for a few seconds, Cregan's own eyes filling with tears. One hot tear was about to track down Cregan's face when the baby in his arms screwed his eyes shut, opened his mouth and started to howl, his cries even more desperate than before. 

Lady Stark laughed from her seat on the bed, holding her arms out to take the child back. 

“Give him back, you're upsetting our son,” she said, grinning at Cregan who jealously clung onto the child, rocking him gently and trying to sooth the screaming babe. 

“Sorry my boy,” Cregan said softly, “but you'll just have to get used to me,”.

[suhtorus]

crybaby. gojo satoru

fluff‐parents au. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ non sorcerers au, slice of life, mom!reader, unnamed eight-month-old baby girl, mentions of needles and vaccines

little sunshines au

two pairs of blue eyes stare at each other (one of them is already brimming with unshed tears).

"satoru, you can't be serious."

"she has no idea!"

your eight-month-old grins at her dad, blissfully unaware of what's happening while he dreads what's about to come.

the nurse side-eyes him but says nothing besides instructing him on how to hold her hands so they won't get in the way and accidentally hurt her.

"oh god." he whispers, staring up at the ceiling and forcing himself to ignore the baby's babbles. "i can't watch this."

funny, you think. because all these years, he seemed just fine with holding your boys as they got their shots. even going as far as encouraging them with promises of gifts and ice cream after braving through the pain.

but now, god forbid someone—or rather, something, like a vaccine—hurt his princess.

you snicker behind your hand at his worried face while he bounces his leg in anxiousness, murmuring to himself as he stares at the ceiling.

and that must've been the last straw.

"sir, don't ever get your eyes off of your child."

satoru quickly turns his head towards the nurse, eyes wide as if he just got caught committing a crime, but he's met with their blank stare.

"you have to make sure i administer the vaccine correctly." the nurse continues, lecturing your husband—respectfully, of course.

his jaw opens, but nothing comes out, closing it again when he realizes his mistake. his eyes move down to watch your baby, still smiley and babbling nonsense.

a small smile grows on his lips as he carefully maneuvers her little hands in his, and a similar one appears on your face as you watch the interaction.

"I got you." he murmurs while briefly making eye contact with the needle going in her tiny arm. he grimaces, and the baby tenses up after a second, her eyes never leaving satoru's. "you're so brave, my little mochi. papa is so proud of you."

he coos and keeps whispering sweet things as the baby starts to cry, her face red and eyes screwed shut. satoru's tearing up too, but he doesn't seem to realize or simply doesn't care because he continues on comforting your daughter.

once the nurse has placed a little bandaid on the baby's arm, they hand out a lollipop to satoru.

"let's go home, my two babies." you kiss your daughter's cheek, before smiling at your husband.

and once you return to the comfort of your home, you spend the afternoon watching over them, father and daughter deeply asleep and with matching blotched faces.

[enzstr]

a morning behind the explosions

pairing: timeskip bakugo x reader (married with kids au)

notes: this was waaayy back in my old drafts so enjoy reading :P

The early morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. The soft murmur of your children’s voices could be heard from the kitchen, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter. You smiled, knowing that the morning chaos had already begun—your two kids were always up bright and early, full of energy, ready to face the day.

You rolled over in bed, only to find that Bakugo’s side of the bed was already empty. You sighed with a smile, knowing exactly where he was.

As you stepped into the living room, you were greeted by the sight of Bakugo, his red eyes narrowed in concentration, wearing a faded “Kiss the Cook” apron over his usual black compression shirt. He was standing at the stove, one hand gripping a spatula while the other tried to balance a skillet full of eggs.

"Good morning," you said, leaning against the doorway with a teasing smile. "How’s the kitchen going today?"

Bakugo grunted, not turning to face you. “Don’t laugh. I’m making breakfast, alright? The kids wanted pancakes.”

You watched him flip an egg with surprising precision for someone who usually preferred to blow things up rather than cook. Despite his fiery personality, Bakugo had become a surprisingly competent cook over the years—especially after the birth of your first child. He didn’t want to admit it, but you knew he loved taking care of his family, even in the little things.

“Do they always expect you to cook?” you asked, stepping into the kitchen and moving to the counter to grab a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, well, they love my pancakes,” Bakugo said with a huff, his back still to you. “And if I let you cook, they’ll be crying ‘cause you’re too slow.”

You chuckled, watching as your youngest, a rambunctious four-year-old boy, scampered over to the kitchen table. His bright blond hair—so similar to his father's—was a mess, sticking up in all directions.

"Daddy! Can I have the biggest pancake?" he asked, his wide, eager eyes shining up at Bakugo.

"Quit being so damn greedy," Bakugo grumbled, but his voice had softened. He slid a plate of pancakes onto the table for your son. "Eat this first, then we’ll talk about the ‘biggest’ pancake."

Your heart swelled as you watched Bakugo gently serve his son, his gruff demeanor melting just a little when it came to his kids. It was a side of him that you had fallen in love with—the fierce hero, the protective husband, the devoted father.

As your son dug into his food, your daughter, who was just a year older, strolled into the room with her hair tied up in a messy bun. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, still half-asleep, but already demanding attention.

“Mom, can you make my pancakes in the shape of a heart today?” she asked, her voice still sleep-ridden but sweet as can be.

You smiled at her, walking over to give her a quick hug before turning to your husband. “I think she’s requesting a little extra love this morning,” you teased.

Bakugo rolled his eyes but was already pulling out a second skillet to make heart-shaped pancakes. He didn’t say anything, but his subtle smirk told you that he didn’t mind.

“Are you still planning to take them to the park later?” you asked, stirring your coffee.

“Yeah,” Bakugo replied as he flipped another pancake. “I said I’d take ‘em, so I will.” He turned to look at you, his fiery red eyes softening. “You can stay here and rest. You’ve been working all week. I got this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going to sit on the couch while you do all the work.”

“Tch, I don’t need you hovering over me,” he muttered, but his voice was softer than usual. “It’s not a big deal.”

You gave him a knowing smile, watching as he poured batter into the pan, a small frown on his face as he tried to make sure the pancakes were perfectly shaped. “You’re getting good at this.”

Bakugo shot you a glare, but there was no heat in it. “You don’t need to act so surprised. I’m not some idiot who can’t learn stuff.”

You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m not surprised. I love seeing this side of you, you know?”

He tensed for a moment, but then relaxed into your embrace. “Shut up,” he muttered, though the faintest blush crept across his cheeks.

Your son, now finished with his pancakes, climbed into Bakugo’s lap. "Daddy, can you play with me later?"

Bakugo gave a small sigh, but the smile that tugged at his lips was soft. “Yeah, I’ll play with you after I finish here.”

You watched them, your heart full as you saw the fatherly bond between them. Despite the explosive nature of his quirks and his harsh exterior, Bakugo was, without a doubt, the most dedicated father. And it was in these small, quiet moments that you saw just how much he cherished being a family man.

You grabbed the plates and began setting the table, glancing over at him. "You know, Katsuki, I’m really proud of you."

He scoffed, but there was no hiding the genuine warmth in his eyes. “Tch, don’t get all sappy. I’m just doing what needs to be done.”

You smiled, kissing his cheek quickly before returning to your task. “Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t mean I’m not proud of you.”

As the morning unfolded, you all sat down together at the table, sharing breakfast and laughs. The chaos of family life, while loud and often overwhelming, was something you had come to cherish. You didn’t need grand gestures from Bakugo—his love for you and the kids was shown in the small moments, in his quiet care and dedication to making sure everything was right.

And in that moment, surrounded by the noise and joy of your family, you knew that no matter how intense the world got, you had your own little piece of peace right here.

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