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gor3sigil · 3 months ago

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I’m Trans and Insane and I’m doing fine.

[TW Psychosis, transphobia, psychophobia, medication, psych ward]

“Are you sure ?” she asked.

I remember looking back at her in disbelief, because that was certainly a question I never asked her when she came out.

“Why do you ask ?” I say.

“Dude, I’ve seen you go into depersonalization so hard you even thought you were a human soul in a robot vessel and now, you want me to trust you when you say that you, too, are trans ?”

That’s the memory that comes back to me as I fold and put in my bag my psychiatrist’s note attesting that I suffer from gender dysphoria, NOT LINKED to any psychotic symptoms. Here it goes in my folder with my prescription note, an increase - again - of my anti depressants and Xan, and my endocrinologist’s HRT prescription, increased too - finally.

I go to two separate pharmacies to pick up each prescription for two reasons:

There is only one in this godforsaken town that always had testosterone in stock.

I can’t explain to you with words the look you can get when you give back to back, to someone who, despite not being a doctor, works in healthcare, a note for trans HRT and then a note for psychiatric meds.

And I’m lucky, because I’m not taking antipsychotics anymore. Contrarily to what you could think, it doesn’t magically makes the voices and the shadowy people disappear, but it can make a mess of your head pretty bad and my doctor and I both agreed that I didn’t need more damage up here than what I already had. And no, it doesn’t make your delusions vanish magically too: in fact, I was still pretty certain that I was talking to my soul family out here in Argentine telepathically about my mission on Earth, the meds just made it more difficult to understand their voices, but the belief was still solid.

Anyways, I’m back home with the Hoy Grail I fought tooth and nails to get: a letter from the Sacred Council of Mental Sanity also known as Psychiatry that I was, indeed, a bit delulu, but also trans, and that both things didn’t play into each other. My transness wasn’t a delusion, my delusions didn’t have anything to do with being trans.

Or did it ?

Chicken or egg, you know the drill. Did I have my selves fractured before and one of the piece that shattered my brain happened to make me trans or was I just trans with a shitload of traumas in the back that made me insane ?

But don’t worry, at least, trans people when we’re together, we have each other’s back ! Right ?

“Transidentity ISN’T a mental illness !! We don’t DESERVE to be FORCIBLY LOCKED UP and MEDICATED and MADE TO CONFORM FOR OTHER’S SENSE OF SECURITY !!”

Neither do I, RIGHT ?

Or do I ?

Remember what she said, my girlfriend, right at the beginning ?

How I can’t be trusted about myself when sometimes I don’t even have a sense of self anymore or I have too much selves who fight against each other ?

And what do we say to that ?

Get treatment. Get in-patient. Take medication. And for the love of God, shut the fuck up about it, you’re giving us a bad name.

Because being trans and crazy can’t exist. It’s absurd. You have to fix one of these two things. Choose which jacket I’ll wear, and they call it a straitjacket for a reason it seems, so am I queer or am I insane ?

All I know today is there isn’t a universe in which I’m a trans without any mental illnesses, or mentally ill without being trans. And yet, I can’t tell you how many time I got asked “do you think you’d be trans if you never got through [x trauma] ?”. I. Don’t. Know. I’ll never know. And I deserve just as much agency as you get despite being mentally ill. If you don’t believe in that, don’t come yapping about “liberation for all of us”, but “if one of us is crazy they’ll all think I am too and that can’t happen”.

No LGBTQIAA+ person deserves to be told they need to be put away, to be cured, to be allowed out in the open only if they’re deemed “acceptable” by society’s standards. And no mentally ill people deserve to either.

No trans person should be going through years of counseling to have the access to HRT.

And I shouldn’t have had to threaten my own mother’s life to avoid being locked in an adult psych ward at 14.

If you ever think, for one second, that these two things have nothing to do with one another, you are far removed from history.

To hear queer people say “yeah but some mentally ill people are dangerous !” feels like you don’t even know where you come from.

And if I want to say, that me being trans is linked to me being mentally ill, or at least, that both are connected in a way, all hell breaks fucking loose.

So I’ll explain very carefully.

See, when I was young, my mind got shattered into a thousand of pieces I had to try to glue back on. All these pieces of myself broke further more down the line because I couldn’t catch a fucking break. And now, it happens that the final puzzle does not have the same face it had before. It happens that its shape changed over time, for reasons over the control of all of us who tried to build ourselves back. Now there’s a bigger picture, less pieces, a few other shadows, and me. Built from the shatters. With my own needs and afflictions.

And whoever you are, whatever your agenda might be, I will not let anyone take any agency away from me under the false pretext that I can’t know anything for myself. They say that about children, they say that about minorities, about physically disabled people, about the people they want OUT. And my trans siblings, you know that.

I came out for the first time 7 years ago, to my then girlfriend, who was the one asking the question that is the first sentence of this text. I came out a second time 3 years ago. Been on HRT, had top surgery, had psychotic breaks, got my meds changed, switch therapist.

Because I am trans and crazy. And yet, all these choices I made, I made myself. It didn’t have to be that hard to get the basic care I needed. It didn’t need to be. But it WAS. And I’m part of the lucky crowd of people who had access to out-patient treatment, who never have been locked up in ward, who managed to stay alive through meds withdrawals without medical assistance when I had no therapist.

Be very careful of when you start to put conditions on the rights you think you deserve. Be very, very careful about your definition of sanity and of how it warps the way you see people. When you start to say “I have access to that, but there’s people like X or Y who shouldn’t BECAUSE”, pause and ask yourself what led you to think this way. More often than not, you’ll find yourself playing the same mind games as the ones you swore to fight against, and when it gives them the upper hand, they won’t hesitate to come for you after that.

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charliemwrites · 3 months ago

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хозяин

Nobody. You wish it weren’t so apt. But he’s not a person, not anything of Earth.

Content: Dub-Con, Biting, Scratching, Exhibitionism, Possessive Behavior, Toxic Behavior

You must have pissed something off in a past life. Or they’re planning on giving you something really good in the next one. Because this… this is too much. He’s too much.

We are exactly right for you, khozyain.

It’s not just the taste of leather and oil on the back of your tongue each morning. Or the crimson smears on your sheets before bed. You could live with the shit sleep, the centuries of foreign memories, and the occasional hankering for raw meat that thins your appetite to nothing.

“You’re KorTac’s best operative?”

It’s a question you’ve heard a dozen times before – and will likely hear a dozen times more. The criticism is valid. You’re not an imposing figure; nothing impressive about you. Look more like a child in a Halloween costume than anything resembling a soldier. The question never bothers you because the unofficial title is as ill-fitting as the gun strapped to your thigh.

It’s not you they need to worry about bothering.

“We are. Problem, soldat?”

“There’s no problem, Nikto,” you answer in Sebastian Krueger’s place.

No, Krueger is too busy wondering where the big, dark figure behind your shoulder just came from. He could have sworn you stepped out of the transport alone. In broad daylight, no less. (That doesn’t mean there aren’t shadows.)

Nikto grunts, nearly tripping you with how closely he walks, toes of his boots nipping at the heels of yours. A stride twice the length of your own but doggedly following, not leading.

“Thought there was only one ‘a ya,” Declan O’Conor muses.

“Paperwork issue,” you lie, smiling.

Nikto grunts, pressing into your back as you stop in front of your temporary captain. You have to brace against his oppressive weight, feel yourself flush a bit when you don’t quite manage.

“Who’re you, then?” Declan asks, eyes on your shadow.

“Nikto,” comes the gruff reply.

Nobody.

You wish it weren’t so apt.

But he’s not a person, not anything of Earth. You don’t know if he ever was; he never gives you a straight answer when you pluck up the courage (or frustration) to ask. Last time, he told you that if he ever wanted to feel human, he’d just be inside you. (You’d flushed, didn’t know if he meant in your mind, where he often takes up unwanted residence, or… elsewhere. Couldn’t make yourself ask him to clarify, afraid of the answer. Jumped whenever he touched you for a week.)

You don’t know the exact bounds of this pact either. He listens to you only sometimes. When it suits him – or when it least suits you. And you’re not immune to his cruelty either, as the bruises and bitemarks and scratches can attest. Nothing like the romanticized crossroads deals you see in tv shows and movies.

Truthfully, you’re not even sure if he’s a punishment for you or if you’re a reward for him. What’s that line you read online once? Dog heaven is squirrel hell. Did he make a deal with you, or did he make a deal with something else, and you’re just collateral?

You never bother to ask. He’ll just click his forked tongue and tell you that it won’t get rid of him either way. The worst part is that he’ll be right. You’re pretty sure the Christian God as you know Him has nothing to do with any of this.

The mission doesn’t matter, not really. You only listen for objectives. Whoever needs killing, whatever information needs gathering, wherever the hostages are. The rest is all useless extra, so much noise to Nikto, not even listening. He’s too busy bullying his way between your thighs, sinking his teeth into the meat through your cargos.

You’re never sure if he’s visible or the other operatives just avoid looking at him in these moments. Regardless, you flush and kick at him when his jaw locks too hard. It’ll bruise livid and ugly, and he’ll fuck the head of his cock into the aching ring of teeth prints left behind.

He’s insistent when the briefing is over, riled up by the promise of bloodshed. Pushy and growling, nearly snapping through his “mask” as he herds you like a rabid shepherd to your temporary quarters.

He fucks you in the doorway though, using one thick arm to bounce you like a personal fleshlight. The other keeps your jaw forced open so he can spit and lick into your mouth, obscene and filthy.

You push and squirm, but he just laughs that awful, maniacal rattle and grinds your clit into his pelvis. Until you start to mean it when you whimper “no” and “stop.” It always makes him cum so hard that you taste ichor in the back of your throat.

It’s too much to hope that you’ll eat in the mess hall uninterrupted. Nikto’s presence attracts the worst, and Krueger is compelled to pick at the weakness you exude. It’s no question that he’s a bigger, stronger, meaner beast than you. But like a dying soldier left to scream in the field, there’s a muzzle hidden out of sight, awaiting whatever is lured in – for mercy or to feast.

Krueger takes the seat across from you, one of his boots landing heavy and threatening on top of yours. You eat quietly, picking at your mashed potatoes and rubbery chicken. Listen to him jab and jeer.

Nikto is there but he’s not. He’s laughing in your ear at all the true but derisive things Krueger is taunting you with. All the sins he boasts of and the reactions he takes as proof of your inadequacy for the assignment you’ve been brought for. It would hurt more of you didn’t know it was true – and if your nerves weren’t rattling.

There’s a line, always a line. Some fault hidden beneath the surface that you don’t see until the ground splits and swallows up the unfortunate soul above.

This time, it’s a comment about how much more useful you’d be as a cockwarmer.

The plastic fork is an inch from his eye by the time you finish blinking.

“Nikto, stop!”

It snaps in his tight fist – but stops. Krueger hasn’t even processed how close he was to losing half his sight before you’re yanking Nikto back by the straps. He’s growling, snarling, half-crazed over a comment he’s made himself. You abandon your mostly full tray and the table altogether, putting all your weight and strength into dragging him from the cafeteria.

“Calm down, that’s enough!” you shout over the animalistic sounds ripping from his throat.

He turns on you instead. Pins you to the wall just outside, in full view of anyone passing on their way to dinner.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he’s chanting. Ripping through your pants (that’s the second pair this week) and thrusting against the seam of your ass. Already leaking precum from an obsidian tip at the small of your back, the corpse-pale base nestled between your cheeks. If he had the coordination through the frenzy, he’d stuff it into you dry and tight. As it is, it’s all he can do to buck against you, fingers digging divots into the cement wall, dust raining down on your face.

Mine, mine, mine, he chants inside your skull in languages known and unknown. You’re leaking through your underwear, too overwhelmed and bewildered to be anything but turned on. Fear is synonymous with attraction, those two wires soldered together and circuited to your pussy.

Copper fills your nose, warmth drips down your lips. Nikto scents it like a hound, yanks your head back to lap at the blood, groaning into your mouth.

Yours, yours, yours as his cock splutters against your spine, too hot. Tingly, almost caustic. You can barely breathe and he’s hauling you over one big shoulder, scooping your slick to prod at the hole he was just grinding against.

Us as you’re pinned with nowhere to go and no voice to praise or protest. In a room darker than a void. Suspended on an endless continuum of pleasure and pain, phantom claws raking your skin and phantom mouths filling whatever holes his cock isn’t occupying.

Sometimes you wonder if the plural “we” and “us” he tends to use is in reference to you and him, or…

The mission is going to be a success, it always is. You separate from the rest of the KorTac squad, shooing Nikto’s hands out from under your shirt. The claw marks still sting; the sooner you can get out of tac gear, the better.

He cracks his neck as the two of you approach the infil point. It sounds like snapping bone. A crescent moon carves into the night sky, sharp enough to cut yourself on.

“Is it time, khozyain?”

Those cajoling whispers caress your ears again. To let him run rampant, to let him fill your bath with blood. He’d be a scourge on the earth if you let him, a one-man apocalypse. The death of the world for a slip of the tongue.

Your hold on his leash is so tight that it’s imprinted past the skin, down into muscle. But on nights like tonight, for things like this… you let out the lead.

“Stay clear of Point B,” you remind into your com.

“Roger,” all others agree.

If they know what’s good for them, they’ll abide by the plan like holy writ. Not even you can promise their lives if they stray.

Shadow looms behind you, grows with each beat of your heart, spills over your shoulders, threads down your arms. You don’t dare glance at the inhuman head hovering right by yours, the maw parting for vicious, pearlescent teeth and pooling saliva. Hungry. Starving.

“Nikto.”

A rolling, ravenous churr vibrates through your skull. The lowest windows of your target begin to crack.

“Hunt.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #nikto cod #nikto x reader #call of duty nikto #heavy kink

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imgae-insertshockedgasps-16 · 10 months ago

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humans are space orcs

imagine someone with chronic joint pain, whose dream their whole lives has been to go to space and meet the aliens and be a scientist and learn

so they look up the requirements as a kid and go "fuck."

they wouldn't make the cut.

their dreams are dashed. hopes ruined. lifelong dre destroyed.

except....

they've never really said a whole lot about their pain. they don't particularly like doctors, and they think that they've been managing just fine, so they never saw the point.

so maybe... maybe if they just don't say anything, they can make it to space.

they spend all of their time training. doing physical therapy exercises so that their joints aren't so loose, soaking up as much scientific and mathematical knowledge as they can, teaching themselves to push through the worst of it in pursuit of their dream.

and they make it.

they make it to space! it was gruelling, tortuous work, but they made it!

their first mission is an exploratory one, with a diverse crew which only has one other human.

they're thrilled.

they have dozens of alien friends and acquaintances. they spend hours learning and researching alien planets and cultures. it's everything they've ever wanted!

but

it's exhausting.

they're in more pain than they've ever been, more frequently than they ever have.

they keep up their exercises as best they can, but even those are often too much.

they smile when asked if they're alright, tell everyone that "i'm fine! just tired."

but they need a break. they can't imagine going or being sent back to earth, this is their home now, with these people, on this ship. but they don't know how much longer they can take this.

one day, on their day off, a fellow researcher comes and knocks on their door.

"are you here?"

"not today islith."

"but we've been called! there are some exciting new discoveries that need further cataloging and investigation, and carlmoth thought you would enjoy the task!"

"i can't today, islith."

"are you ill?"

"...kind of? but i'll be right as rain tomorrow. it's my day off anyhow."

"nonsense! you should go down to medbay!"

"i'm alright, i promise."

"you get out here right this minute or i'll report you to medbay myself!"

"no!" there's a series of crashes and thumps, and then they open the door.

"oh, you look awful. come on, you really must need medbay, what if you're contagious." islith tries to grab them but they shy away.

"i'm not contagious, i promise."

"how can you possibly know that? what if you picked it up from a sample, or, or, garfon has been sick recently! humans can't survive cerian sicknesses-"

"i didn't catch something from garfon, islith," they sigh and open the door wider. "come in and let me explain."

"alright, but if i think you should go to medbay afterwards then i'm taking you there."

"sure, islith."

islith enters, notices the piles of clothes, rumpled bedsheets, the lights are off and the port window shut.

"what's wrong?"

they sigh again, "my body doesn't work like it's meant to, islith."

islith is wildly alarmed, "and you said there was no need for medbay?!? come with me right now and-"

"no! i can't, islith, you don't understand."

"then explain it to me."

"i've... always been this way, although it's gotten worse as i've gotten older. my body, it just isn't built quite right, there's something wrong with it that makes it not work properly and hurt often."

"you're right, i don't understand. why can't you go to medbay?"

"i'd... be thrown off the ship."

"what?!?"

and so they tell islith a story about a young child whose dream was to touch the stars.

"and now, it's too late. i'd get in huge trouble for lying to the government, especially for so long."

"well- but- but humans are so resilient! you hear all the stories!"

"not every human is the same, islith. some of us are born disabled, and some of us get hurt in accidents, just like any other species."

"well, then, well there must be something we can do?"

they look up in shock, "we?"

"of course we, you ridiculous creature," islith said with a fond sigh. "you didn't think i'd leave you to suffer, would you?"

"but, you could get in so much trouble!"

"that's alright, i don't mind. what else are friends for? and, anyway, we don't have to tell your government, we can tell mine."

"but i'll-"

"we don't have any rules like that. any of us who are disabled can still manage in space just fine with the right support, and i bet you could too."

"i- islith- i don't-"

"don't worry, we'll all back you when it comes down to it. you're out teammate, our family. no one on this ship wants to watch you leave because of something you can't control. now come on, let's talk to glidlep in medical, she'll understand."

and for years, things continued on that way, until eventually it was an open secret that the human with the exosuit was disabled and not technically allowed onboard.

and down the line, when nasa found out and was furious, the entire ship and more stood by their side.

#anyway i need to go cry now #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are deathworlders #disabled #disability #disability in space #chronic pain #chronic illness #chronically ill #joint pain

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f14fun · 5 months ago

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pixelated love (!simmer x mv1) - chapter 2

synopsis: in which the famous three time world champion max verstappen wants to learn how to play the sims 4. except, he doesn't really know how to. so what does he do, search up a youtube tutorial. low-and-behold, y/n's video is the first he watches.

smau ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ prev | next | series index ˚୨୧⋆｡

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yourusername:

yourusername: WATCH LIVE ON TWITCH: i dominate my sub (max verstappen) as we play the sims 4 together - he's streaming too, ig 🙄🙄

(pls subscribe to my patreon and all of the cool cc looks that I put together)

view comments:

maxverstappen1: That is not the picture that we agreed on you to post, Y/N.

yourusername: deal with it max emillian 🙄

maxverstappen1: I look horrible, please delete it.

yourusername: max, i mean it in the best way possible, but you look so babygirl 😍😘🥺

maxverstappen1: This? Means me?

yourusername: SEE?!? the word fits u, totally 😁😁😁

maxverstappen1: ???

user1: LMFAO MAX??!

user2: this is the most unlikely pairing/collab of the year, i'm bewildered

user3: ABSOLUTELY LIVING for this unhinged duo >>>

user4: the way they type is COMPLETELY THE OPPOSITE FROM EACH OTHER

user5: and we are totally living for it??

user6: they match each others freak in the phattest opposite directions its so funny everytime they interact

user7: this is the type of deluluship that i aspire to have one day

yourusername: DWAI! you will reach my level of mental illness and one day have to live in a mental insane aslyum like me! (my bedroom playing sims twenty-four seven)

user7: oh!- 😀 (trembling)

maxverstappen1: It's spelled as asylum*** @/yourusername.

yourusername: 😐😐😐 not funny

user8: ☠️☠️🫵🏾

user9: love to see a set of people constantly being able to humble each other, prime entertainment

user10: guys, the stream is so fucking funnny PLS WATCH IT RN.

user10: like my mom came in to tell me to eat dinner and she heard HOW FUNNY and UNHINGED it was and decided to join me 😭

yourusername: w mother fr ‼️‼️

yourusername: now max, this is a PRIME EXAMPLE of a MILF.

yourusername: watch and learn, okay!

maxverstappen1: I am still very confused...

yourusername: mom i'll learn from >>> mom i'd like to fuck

liked by maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1: Ohhh, I see

user11: the BLATANT gaslighting has me IN TEARS. 💀💀

user11: like this is what she chooses to do the minute she gets noticed by a f1 driver HELPPPP

user12: this is MORE UNHINGED version of everything in the yt video i beg for u guys to join in on the stream i swear, NO REGRETS FRRR

user13: when she started teaching max the words to club classics by charli xcx mid stream 😭😭😭

user14: NOT A REAL EXPERIENCE. LMFAO.

yourusername: what can i say, i just need to educate this man in pop culture 😁

yourusername: i swear he is gen-z guys, just with a tinge of millenial in him (we are working on fixing that!!)

maxverstappen1: Yeah, I wanna dance to me, I wanna dance to A.G, I wanna dance with George @/georgerussel63

georgerussel63: ???

georgerussel63: Eww mate, I will not dance with you Max

georgerussel63: You can't dance well, so no thanks 🙃

yourusername: i already like you george

yourusername: you are very funny

georgerussel63: Why, thank you. May I ask who you are?

yourusername: only the funniest girl on earth ‼️🎀🌍🫨🌋

georgerussel63: I'll give that title to my girlfriend, thank you very much, but you can take a close second

yourusername: i'll take it 😁😁🤣

maxverstappen1: ☹️☹️

user15: it's okay max, you can be babygirl in the corner with me

user16: george russel once again rendering max bitchless, in front of a hot girl nontheless ☹️

yourusername: it's okay, max is my bitch 😈💦😼

user17: girl, i'm astonished everytime you open your mouth

liked by yourusername

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taglist: @hiireadstuff @sinofwriting @mehrmonga @the-untamed-soul @glai1023-blog @loloekie @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @sheastri @llando4norris @gwginnyweasley @carmenita122

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author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 part three will be out sometime within the next week, comment if you want to be added to the taglist! ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

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heechwe · 3 months ago

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enchanted ↦ jww

⋆ pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader ⋆ word count: 6.1k ⋆ genre: fluff. semi-angst ⋆ tags: cinderella-ish retelling, royalty!wonwoo ⋆ synopsis: Life as the housemaid and an inconvenience to your family is not what you wished for, but Wonwoo brings a new, royal perspective that turns your world around.

Scrub, wipe, shine. The chant plays over in your head, a symphony to block out the call of your horrendous stepsister trotting down the staircase. She says your name with a shriek but you pay her no mind. More than likely she has another errand for you to do. One she will take pleasure in you finding uncomfortable, no doubt. The color of the suds and sloshing sounds of the water bring you comfort. You dip your rag in the bucket next to you and plop it on the tile floor. Taking pleasure in the most menial tasks makes life a lot more bearable.

Heejin calls your name again when she makes it to the last step, knowing well enough you can hear her when she’s standing over you. “Are you deaf? We need new clothes from the market!”

You look up to her, a confused but indifferent expression on your face. You don’t bother asking what the clothes are for, but you know she’ll tell you regardless.

“For the ball, you imbecile,” Heejin says.

Minha, the younger of the stepsisters, pipes up behind Heejin, her voice a squeak compared to her older counterpart. “It’s the prince’s coronation.”

You nod and continue scrubbing the tile. If the task at hand isn’t done before your stepmother gets home, she will have your head on one of the pikes lining the kingdom’s outer walls.

“Finish this and then head to the seamstress. The fabric must be on my bed by sundown, or Mother will not be pleased,” Heejin says, a warning interwoven with the smirk on her lips.

Heejin purposefully kicks your bucket of soapy water across the floor on her way to the sitting room. The liquid drenches your apron and face thoroughly. You wish you could sling an insult at her for her entitlement along with her lack of care for anyone’s wellbeing but her own. Minha’s face transforms into a small frown, her eyes expressing sympathy as she follows her sister’s trail.

Since your father took gravely ill five summers ago, you have yet to receive an ounce of kindness from your newfound family. “Family” is barely a word you’d use to describe the relationship between yourself and them, the wolves who invaded your home on the eve of your fourteenth birthday, just a year after your mother’s passing.

Minha is the kindest of them all for her inaction during your stepmother and Heejin’s abuse, but you wish you had a confidant somewhere in the world.

You rifle with the letters you saved from your father and mother, the inscriptions inside of them the last memory you have of them both. Some written to each other, others simply their musings and thoughts you wish you would have discussed with them before they left this earth.

If only someone knew you truly, who cared to hear your words and valued their meaning. Who saw life as a gift rather than a tool used to induce a person’s misery. If dreams could become reality, you would not be alone another day.

Wonwoo mentally checked off the items in his head that the king and company expected to be done for the coronation ball. The town baker was provided with the list of desserts and bread necessary for the feast. The lute and harp players were given an excellent amount of coin for taking part with their instruments. Even the meat and dairy from the kingdom’s best butcher was safely stored in the horse-drawn carriage behind Wonwoo’s own stallion. The final task in need of completion was a trip to the seamstress. In the words of the king, “it’s not every day my boy finds a bride.”

On arrival, Wonwoo was enraptured with color. He absorbed the rolls of fabric and material encased on the shelves, the finest satin and puffiest tulle displayed for ladies and gentlemen to spare no expense on for the upcoming celebrations. He gave the specifications to the shopboy almost an hour ago, but Wonwoo doesn’t mind spending a bit longer outside of the castle walls.

The bell above the door pierces the air with its chime, and Wonwoo looks up to see the most encapsulating view in existence. Would someone disbelieve him if he said that view included a girl with cheeks caked in soot, her hair pulled back underneath a common scarf, and her clothes as drab as a servant girl’s? Probably. But the sunshine on your face and twinkling eyes suggests to him that he should continue looking for as long as he can.

The seamstress and owner of the shop comes from behind the store, a sketching pencil tucked atop her ear and a vibrant smile on her lips as she says your name, the letters together a lovely orchestra. “Here for the usual order?”

“No. Heejin needs something spectacular for the ball. Her words, not mine.” You raise your hands in mock surrender, and the seamstress laughs.

“I’ll see what I can do. Just wait a moment.” In a flash, the seamstress walks back to her private area of the shop, and Wonwoo is left alone again with you, the mysterious but mesmerizing girl. A maid perhaps, given the nature of your visit?

All he knows is that he must talk to you, whether you recognize him or not.

You lightly tap your hands against the wooden counter, waiting for Miss Jae to come back with a fabric to take home. Hopefully one that Heejin loves enough to keep. That way you don’t have to come back on foot a second time today.

“Blue is best.”

You turn with a gasp. The man attached to the voice is adorned in royal clothing, golden cufflinks and buttons matching the royal purple material of his clothes.

“Sorry,” you stutter, hands suddenly clammy.

“Your color.” He slides over to a roll of sky blue satin, placing a patch of it over his arm. “It looks terrible on me, but on you, I believe you would outshine any commoner.” He lets out a breathless chuckle and intakes a deep gulp of air.

It has been so long since another person wanted to engage with you, especially someone as handsome as the person before you. He may be as nervous as you, given his awkward introduction, but you know your conversational skills are worse for what. You aren’t sure how to converse anymore about topics outside of dinner orders and cleaning supplies.

“Thank you, but I won’t be attending the upcoming festivities.” You try to hide the sadness that threatens to break free on your face, but you’re too late. The stranger sees it and responds in kind.

“Everyone is welcome to the coronation,” he assures you.

“I’m afraid ‘everyone’ does not involve me…Your—” You stop short, unsure of his title as you don’t know his name or his face from recent memory.

“Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo.” Wonwoo breaks into a smile. You’re unsure whether you like his laugh or his smile more, but both seem to make your cheeks heat up all the same. He reaches out his hand for you to shake, and you give yours back, curtsying in response.

You tell him your name as well, a blush on full display. “As I said, Wonwoo, I usually stay in. Not in my nature to court or be courted.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sure your company is surely missed.” His hand is still caressing yours, thumb rubbing up and down your palm softly.

A shopboy suddenly comes into view. You both separate quickly, the intimate bubble bursting at the intrusion. The boy stuffs the garments in Wonwoo’s hands and bows swiftly before going back to his duties.

“You must be hard to miss as well, Wonwoo.”

“Well, you could say that.” You both hear a horse neigh outside the shop doors, and Wonwoo barely fights the urge to stay with you. “Until the next time.” He says his goodbye and your name with determination. If only you could assure him there will be a future where you cross paths again, but that hope may be squashed as quickly as it was born. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to hold onto it, though.

“Not terrible,” Heejin says when you come home, running her hand over the material Miss Jae gave to you. “If Mother needs more yards of it, you’ll have to go back immediately before they run out.”

“Of course, sister,” you say. You hate to use that word for someone as vile as Heejin, but Stepmother Jung enforced the rule as strictly as the list of chores you were to complete before the sun set every day. “We must always be a family in the eyes of society,” Stepmother Jung told you once after your father passed. “Even if you will never be a part of this one, you have to play your role.” If only that role extended to social gatherings.

Minha looks over Heejin’s shoulder and smiles. “It’s a beautiful pattern.”

“That’s why it’s for me. Mother will give you one of my old gowns to wear,” Heejin tuts and pats Minha under the chin with her free palm. You know Heejin spares her worst behavior for you, but in your eyes, Heejin doesn’t deserve the title of sister in any form. Just as your stepmother has no business being a mother to anyone.

“You’re dismissed,” Heejin says to you, the hand that was under Minha’s face used to wave you off.

“Sister, if I may.” She grimaces at you, but a curious spark remains in her eyes. You think back to Wonwoo, plucking up every ounce of your confidence. “I was wondering if you may consider letting me attend as well. Stepmother may not let me go of her own volition, but if you told her you approved then maybe-”

“And why would I do that,” Heejin says. She knows exactly what you want, and the only way for her to entertain the idea is if you grovel.

“Because I have never asked anything of you before.”

“As you should.” Your stepmother’s figure and shadow encompass the entirety of Heejin’s bedroom doorway. You immediately lower your head; it’s one of the humiliating rules you have to obey in the wake of becoming the family servant. You hear Heejin snicker, but it’s cut off immediately by Stepmother Jung clearing her throat. “Your purpose in this household is to do what is asked of you without complaint or question, not the other way around. Asking for anything else is an insult to me and my daughters.”

You feel tears prick the back of your throat, but you hold onto your resolve with a steadfast grip. “Stepmother, I am begging you—”

“I do not know what is worse, girls,” Stepmother Jung says, addressing Heejin and Minha, “hearing someone beg for something that will never come true or seeing someone forget their place in this world.”

Your bottom lip quivers without your approval. You can only hope none of the other people in the room are paying attention to your despair. Heartbreakingly, it appears they don’t.

“Now, Heejin, we need to measure you again for your dress. I swear you grow an inch every time you require a fitting, dear girl. Minha, I know exactly which of Heejin’s dresses will look perfect on you.” She motions for you to look her in the eye, and you force the tears to evaporate. “As for you, you have chickens to feed.”

“Seungcheol, I told you already, the conversation is over.”

“That’s Prince Seungcheol to you, kid.” Seungcheol juts Wonwoo in the arm. The practice swords whip through the air as the birds sing throughout the courtyard. “And who’s to say a royal summons would embarrass her? Everyone is to attend the ball. Maid, mare, or otherwise.”

“She seemed certain she was not supposed to be there. I don’t want her to feel forced to do anything.” Wonwoo huffs as he lands a blow on Seungcheol’s hip.

“What good is it to be royalty if I cannot help a dear friend and the future Hand of the King find love?”

Wonwoo and Seungcheol grew up together due to their fathers’ stations, one bearing the crown and the other gaining the responsibility of advising him. Although Wonwoo had no place without Seungcheol’s family, they had become close in their own right. Once Seungcheol ascended his throne, Wonwoo knew he was to be standing beside him with the title his father had worn for most of his life.

With that in mind, it seemed both Wonwoo and Seungcheol were on respective quests to find a bride to continue the long-held, individual legacies they were born into.

“All you have to do is smile and dance with every eligible woman in the next three kingdoms while I hope my mystery girl decides to step out of the shadows, unprompted and entirely by her choice.”

Seungcheol scoffs, sweat on his brow from trying to find an open spot on Wonwoo to exploit. “You place high priority on a stranger’s independence and choice-making.”

Wonwoo blushes. His thoughts go back to the fabrics, the jasmine smell in the air, you walking into his life and halting his day in the best way possible. He wishes he had said more, learnt more about you, held your hand longer before he was whisked away back to his priorities. Now he could only hope you would find your way back to him, whether by fate or of your own free will.

With his thoughts occupied, Seungcheol takes the opportunity to knock Wonwoo in the shoulder. Seungcheol smiles triumphantly, biting his lip. “Finally, for fuck’s sake.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “You won’t beat me again, Choi.”

“Wanna bet?” Seungcheol jokes.

Wonwoo immediately thwacks Seungcheol’s sword out of his hand in response. The tip of Wonwoo’s meets the column of the prince’s throat, and he grins. “You should train more if you want to be half as good as me.”

Dust, sweep, clean. You repeat the list in your head with traces of melancholy in your heart. You weren’t expecting to be allowed to go to the ball without a fight, but Stepmother Jung was right. What was the point in fighting if you had no standing at all to barter with?

Minha calls your name, her appearance in the kitchen is like magic. You must’ve been too lost in your morose thoughts to notice her walk in. Or she seems to know how to sneak around the manor better than you do.

Her arms rest behind her back, concealing something. “I’m sorry,” she says immediately, surprising you.

“I cannot blame you for Heejin or your mother.” A part of you wishes you could be more cruel, but you’re certain you have little to no capacity to be, even to your worst enemy. “You have done nothing to require an apology.”

“I have. You deserve to go to the ball as much as any of us do.” She looks over her shoulder for someone, or a lack thereof. Satisfied, she throws a lump of fabric on the kitchen island. You notice the bandages on Minha’s fingers with a quick glance before focusing on the dress. The turquoise material sparkles in the light of the stained glass windows. “So you will.”

“Minha, I can’t-” You feel the same tears coating the back of your throat again, grateful to her but incapable of accepting the gesture.

“You can. You were right when you said you’ve never asked for anything before. So don’t ask. Take the chance, and the dress, and go to the ball.”

With that, Minha disappears quietly from the room, leaving the decision in the air for you to either seize or surrender.

The main ballroom is filled with swathes of dancing couples alongside gossiping nobility and local townspeople. To a stranger walking in, it was a display of royal decadence, the party lit from within with the sounds of joyous laughter, heavenly harps, and gorgeous decor. To Wonwoo, it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

Seungcheol and his parents sit in their royal chairs, the gleaming gold of the upholstery almost too polished for Wonwoo’s eyes. The young men share knowing glances when someone particularly obnoxious makes an entrance or wishes to greet the royal family. Wonwoo wishes he could joke with his best friend openly about the noble women’s copious frills and curly mops, but now is not the time or place.

Wonwoo’s father leaves the king’s side to pat his son on the back. “You did well with your part in this, Woo. Maybe you’ll be rewarded with finding someone to wed as well. Wouldn’t that be luck smiling on us all,” he says with a loving grin.

“I doubt that someone will show up.” Wonwoo frowns.

“Have faith, my boy.”

Like luck was indeed shining on him, Wonwoo looks up and sees you at the top of the stairs, horns blazing to signify your arrival. Even in a mask, he can tell it’s you from the skipping of his heart. With your hair in a loose bun, tendrils framing your face with precision, you look nothing like the girl he met in the dress shop yet the exact same. He wonders how the color blue had the capacity to take his breath away. It doesn’t help how the dress’s bodice hugs you perfectly, the bottom of the gown a cloud that Wonwoo wishes he could rest his head upon forever.

You fidget with the tops of your gloves that brush the neckline of your dress, the sleeves dropping loosely on your shoulders. Wonwoo wants to rush up the stairs to assure you there is no need to be nervous.You’re the most beautiful woman in this kingdom, tonight and always.

When you reach the bottom, everyone is looking at you, the mysterious stranger that nobody can recall or pinpoint. You hear murmurs as you pass, some predicting you’re a long lost relative of the prince or whispering of you being a foreign beauty. You laugh to yourself at their capacity to chat and how far they are from the truth.

You catch Minha’s eye from her corner of the room, Heejin and your stepmother sneering at you. Minha smiles, a silent cheer in her expression, and you respond with a mirrored grin.

You make it to the center of the room, the pathway cleared for you thanks to the shock and awe of the crowd. To your content, Wonwoo meets you halfway. A hush falls over the spectators when he meets you on the dance-floor, but you don’t care about their perceptions.

Wonwoo says your name and bows. You curtsy in response. Despite feeling out of place for half of your life, it seems instinctual now to be in this room. Not with the strangers surrounding you, but definitely with him. “My prince.”

A look of shock over Wonwoo’s face, and he immediately laughs. “No, I-I— I should have told you before. I’m not—“

You place a hand to your mouth, the realization a flood. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“I didn’t tell you before, so I wouldn’t expect you to—”

“I did say I don’t attend many social gatherings.”

You both share a laugh, the confusion dissipating your embarrassment at your slipup. You notice a well-dressed young man that steals all the glances in the room away from you, the man you now know is the prince himself. He strides over to Minha, her expression a pale sheet. He takes her hand for the next song, which she gleefully accepts.

Wonwoo pulls your attention back to him with the taking of your hand in his. “May I ask you to dance?”

“I would be delighted.”

You sit on one of the many balconies in the royal castle, breathless. Your feet should hurt more than they do with the multitude of waltzes you danced with Wonwoo, but they don’t. You wouldn’t mind if every limb ached, though. With Wonwoo beside you, breathless as well from the night’s excursions, you feel light as air. Free from the obligations you never asked for.

If only you knew Wonwoo felt the same way. He could not remember the last time he smiled this much in one day. Seungcheol was his best friend, his father the biggest influence in his life, and yet both of them reminded him daily of what the future entailed. With you, he didn’t feel anything but ease.

“What if they send a kingsguard looking for us?” Your mouth is upturned in a smile, but you know Wonwoo shouldn’t be gone too long from the events. He was of some royal standing, and he needed to be there, shaking hands and bowing to subjects.

Wonwoo furrows his brows, his smile mirroring yours. “Seungcheol is the one who needs the most protection tonight. And besides, it would take ten of the best men to pull me from this balcony.” He chuckles. “Right now, there’s no other place I’d rather be.”

You nod and sigh happily. Looking over the edge of the marble landing, you agree with him. The town square is visible from your vantage point, the torches and homes, big and small, specks of light celebrating the coronation. “It is a beautiful view.”

“Is it indeed,” Wonwoo says, his eyes pinned to you and the bare skin of your upper chest. Your skin looks lit from within, your entire being a star amongst a sea of darkness. It’s at this moment Wonwoo knows his father was right. Luck has given him the greatest gift and more, and he won’t let you get away again.

You turn your head. His words make your breath hitch, but you try to reserve yourself. You smile in response and take his hands in yours. Your bodies are closer than you initially realized, and the look in his eyes begs you to move further towards him.

All your life, you have lived at the whims of others. As you see it, there’s nothing wrong with taking your power back. Choosing at this moment to throw other parts of your life out of focus. Wonwoo is all you want, so you take your chance.

His mouth softly collides with yours, his lips careful to press too hard onto yours. He presses one hand to your neck, deepening his kiss and igniting a fire inside your heart. Every insult or slight you’ve endured over the years seems to fade away in that instant. You’re grateful, even, if it meant it all led to the moment in front of you, a man who seems to share your feelings confirming so with a kiss you’ve never experienced before.

You break away from him, each others’ lips still centimeters away. Wonwoo inhales a shaky breath, eyes hazy with longing. The desire to kiss him again and hold him closer is strong, but timing proves the night can’t last forever.

Your stepmother’s carriage suddenly comes to the front of the palace, and you feel your stomach fall.

You quickly step back from Wonwoo and take a breath, nerves spiking and your heart telling you to defy your head at this moment. It would be so easy to stay here and not look back, but the fallout would be too incredible to bear. And you wouldn’t wish that on this beautiful man in front of you.

“I must go,” you say, a sob caught in your throat.

“Please don’t leave. It’s only midnight,” Wonwoo insists, squeezing your hand. In the same fashion as the day you first met, he’s rubbing circles into your palm, almost like an incantation. With his words and his touch, maybe he can convince you.

Unfortunately, your choices can’t be that easily swayed when so much is on the line.

“I told you before Wonwoo. My life isn’t filled with parties like this,” you reply, tone wavering, “or people like you.” You take his hand in both of yours and press a kiss to the knuckles. “But I’ll cherish this forever.”

Before the pleading look on his face breaks your resolve, you gather your skirts in your hand and run.

You run down the staircase Wonwoo brought you up only moments before. He calls out your name, but you refuse to look back now, knowing it will break you to look into his eyes and walk away again if need be. You feel yourself fading the further you run away from him and out of his life.

It’s true, you’ll never forget him or the way he’s made you feel. But it’s also true that it is terrible to forget one’s role in the world. How does one witness all the colors of the world and accept going back to living in black and white?

Little did you know the paper you carried in your skirt's pocket had fallen out on the way out of the palace. Wonwoo looks through the forest lining the castle and curses, you disappearing successfully in the darkness.

Before he can walk back into the ballroom, he notices the aged paper on the brick steps of the stairs. He unfurls it and reads the handwritten text. He exhales with relief, feeling in his gut he has found the key to finding you again.

No matter where he has to look, whether it’s beside a babbling brook or the highest castle on the far side of the ocean, he promises himself the next time he sees you he will make sure you stay by his side forever.

You feel the sticks and twigs scrape your arms and legs as you run into the forest, the fabric of your dress in ribbons by the time you make it home. Thankfully, you don’t see the coach or footmen anywhere in the distance.

Once you’re inside, you discard the clothes and makeup into the cellar’s hearth. Each item burns slowly, reminding you with every new cinder of your harsh welcome back to the reality you’re familiar with. The smock you quickly tied around your waist and the soot you smeared across your face to avoid suspicion. The calluses on your palms from the endless, menial work. Your pliable acceptance of cruelty.

It’s all you’ve known, but it feels foreign at the same time. You don’t want to go back to your routine now that you’ve had a taste of what life could be.

Your stepmother and stepsisters waltz into the foyer. Minha looks starry-eyed and love-swept, all of which relate back to her dallying with the prince.

“I can’t believe he danced with me but was looking at you the entire time,” Heejin sneers at Minha, removing her gloves with tense fingers.

You smile to yourself, happy Heejin was knocked down from her high horse and the tides turned in Minha’s favor.

“The good thing is that the prince showed one of you attention, my love.” Your stepmother splays her fur coat out on the loveseat, your cue to immediately scoop it up to carry to the coat closet.

“Tomorrow you need to clean inside the cupboards. I noticed they were a tad dusty,” Heejin says before you can walk out of the room. Your heart was heavy before, but now it’s numbed and frozen to the habitual torture.

"Of course, sister."

Wonwoo rubs his fingers over the page’s text as his father interrogates the young girl in front of them. Seungcheol sits back in his throne beside the king’s chair, curious if this is the girl his best friend whisked away four nights prior.

Wonwoo’s father plucks the writing from Wonwoo’s hand and gives it to the knight. The knight hands it to the girl, her face doe-eyed and timid. “Is this writing familiar to you in any way?”

She looks down to the floor and shakes her head. “No, Lord Hand.”

She didn’t look familiar at all to Wonwoo, just like the last dozen women who came before his father and the prince.

Seungcheol’s idea to find Wonwoo’s mystery girl by interrogating every noble and common girl in the kingdom sounded stupid the second Wonwoo heard it. But with the king’s approval and the hand’s enthusiasm to find his child a bride, the plan was enacted.

Now, in paper and practice, Wonwoo feels more defeated the longer they continue. The only thing that gives him solace is the paper he found, his only connection to you keeping him grounded.

The girl bows for Wonwoo and the royal figures in front of her before being escorted away from the great hall. Wonwoo’s father hands the paper back to his son and sighs.

“I feel we are much closer,” his father says to lighten the mood.

Wonwoo laughs sadly. “It seems you’re the only one who feels that way.”

Seungcheol stands from his chair and pats his friend on the back, his version of a hug. “Closer or further, we’ll do whatever we must,” Seungcheol says to Wonwoo’s father.

Wonwoo’s father exits, a handful of knights marching behind him.

Seungcheol puts a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder. He looks at his best friend with sincerity, a vulnerability he rarely shared with anyone. “You cannot lose hope now.”

Wonwoo nods. “That’s not what I’m afraid of losing. The longer this search continues, the more I feel our chance slipping away.”

Wonwoo traces the familiar pattern of the words with his thumb, the lost paper the one thing holding him steady.

You rifle through the documents you’ve held onto over the years, fear triggering the tremble in your hands. You had brought the dress home from the ball and immediately threw it in the fire. If you had accidentally discarded one of your father’s most precious letters along with the items you burned that night, you’d never forgive yourself.

You hear a horse-drawn carriage outside of the manor and the shrill wail of Heejin calling your name. It stamps down your anxiety enough for you to focus on following the sound.

Walking into the room, you see your stepmother lacing up Heejin’s corset while Heejin is putting a dab of rouge on both cheeks. “The royal carriages are outside!”

You gulp and nod at your sister, unsure what she wants from you.

She exhales with an angry breath and motions for you to go upstairs. “Get my shoes, you idiot!”

Minha stands at the top of the stairs and looks at you sadly. “I could’ve gotten them for you if you just asked, Hee.”

“Like you could do any better,” Heejin remarks. Her voice becomes airy when your stepmother reaches the final inch of tightening on Heejin’s corset. You run up the stairs to quickly follow your orders.

You squeeze Minha’s hand as you pass her to walk towards Heejin’s room. When you find the slippers and place them on your stepsister’s feet, someone knocks on the door forcefully.

Minha and Heejin stand in the center of the room as your stepmother walks up to the front door. You run back down to the cellar.

Typically you would answer the door for company, but you knew your stepmother wouldn’t want the royalty welcomed by the unbecoming help.

Regardless, your heart thumps furiously at the sound of the stranger at the door delivering his greeting. And you can only wonder what will occur because of his presence.

Wonwoo waits in the carriage as the knight addresses the lady of the house. Wonwoo vaguely remembers his name and feels guilty for not keeping it to memory. Mingyu, was it not?

The lady of the house, her mouth a permanent grimace, nods and opens the door wide for the company to come inside. Wonwoo’s father steps out and Wonwoo follows behind him. Seungcheol exits his own carriage as well.

They all enter the manor, and Heejin can’t help her squeal at the prince’s presence in their home. Wonwoo stifles an eye-roll, keeping his mind focused on business.

As soon as Seungcheol locks eyes with Minha, he smiles. “My lady,” Seungcheol says, striding over to her to bend down and kiss her hand. Minha’s cheeks turn a deep scarlet, but she bows accordingly and smiles.

“‘My p-prince,” Minha stutters.

Heejin sneers at her younger sister, but the prince is too enamored with the young woman in front of him to pay any attention to her.

Wonwoo’s father coughs, redirecting everyone’s attention to him. “Madam Jung, our records indicate there are four residents in this manor. So, to be correct, outside of the three of you here now—”

Madam Jung giggles uncomfortably. “Forgive me, Lord Hand, I have not been to the registrar in some time. Those records must be outdated.”

“So, the third child referenced in these documents-”

“Took ill some time ago. Again, an oversight caused by immense grief, I assure you.” The words leave her mouth instinctually. Wonwoo feels the confidence in her words and how false it is. From the conduct of her oldest daughter, he’s not surprised lies and negativity are commonplace in the household.

A rumble from the below startles both the women and Wonwoo’s father. The knights instinctively grab the hilts of their swords, but to no danger, a girl covered in ashes from the hearth saunters into the center of the foyer, tears streaming down her face and fists clenched.

In that second, Wonwoo feels he could cry as well.

He wants to run over to you and kiss the tears from your face, squeeze you tight, and get down on his knee in front of everyone in the room. The weight of the ring box in his pocket reminds him of what he has wanted to do since you left him alone that night. He inhales a deep breath, both elated and terrified at once, wondering what is going through your mind at the sight of him here.

I’ll never let you go again, he thinks with steadfast certainty.

Wonwoo comes back to reality when he realizes you’re stomping towards your stepmother. You have barely noticed anyone else’s presence in the room besides hers, and he’s sure you heard every word of her lies from the cellar. The pain on your face is a mixture of incredulity and anger. The emotions are knotted together in the expression on your dampened face.

“How dare you,” you whisper, lips quivering but voice solid as a stone.

“How dare I-” Your stepmother starts, but you raise a hand to her. She blanches. Surely she’s shocked to see this side of you rear its head.

“My whole life, the only act of kindness you’ve shown me is pretending I didn’t exist, in spite of my father’s love for both of us. And now, after everything, to wish me dead…”

You muster what is left of your strength to continue. “I’m unsure what I did to deserve such hatred in this family, but all I’ve ever wanted was to belong. Was that worth me being punished for this long, mother?” The word tastes like venom on your tongue. It prickles the flesh on your arms to call her such a title, but spitting it back at her with vitriol makes a part of your anger subside.

“You w-will not speak to me like that in my own home, you l-little pest,” she stutters. To your satisfaction, her insults have no weight now.

“This house could be eaten by the hearth, for all it’s worth. It’s no home of mine anymore,” you say.

Done with her and your speech, you begin to walk away. You stop short at the audience in front of you, failing to recognize their presence before. You bow to the Hand and Prince Seungcheol, but you freeze instantly when you see Wonwoo barely ten feet away.

A burden lifts from your heart when your eyes meet. Suddenly, the two of you are in each others’ arms, the pain you felt prior a vague memory.

“I knew I would find you,” he whispers, placing a kiss on the top of your head. He cups your cheeks with his hands, some of the soot scraping off onto his fingers.

You smile wide. What could you say to encompass the feeling of seeing him again? No words would do the sensations justice.

Wonwoo continues before you can respond. “Like the stars you look to above.”

Hearing your father’s words on his lips makes your heart swell. Of course he had the letter. It had to be fate. It was meant to be lost and then found by the man you fell in love with so easily.

“Follow your faith home, and you shall find my love,” you finish, biting your lip to hold yourself back from weeping more.

Unable to stop himself, he presses his lips to yours. He steals the smile on your mouth for himself, his mouth turns into a grin through the kiss. Even when you separate, your foreheads remain touching.

You had been led to believe, through years of darkness and cruelty, dreams couldn’t come true. And now, with a full heart, you realize love can make every dream come true if you believe.

#svthub #svt fic #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #jeon wonwoo fic #wonwoo fic #seventeen fic

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luv4berry · 1 year ago

Text

my eyes only.

earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader

SUMMARY: miles belleves that you're for him and for him only, no sharing. not even with your best friend.

GENRE: angst to fluff

WARNINGS: bickering/arguing, suggestive(?), kissing, idk if this counts as toxic miles lowkey right in his anger but at the same time is he fr, jealous miles, y/n is lowkey a walking red flag, cursing, man idk

AUTHORS NOTE: the autism is rlly autisming with this movie </3

“baby you not stupid and i know you aren’t, why you acting like that?”

“miles, leave me alone.”

“nah, cause i already told you ion like him, why you still talking to him? you fuckin’ with him or sum?” he narrows his eyes at you, clasping his hands in between his legs while cocking his head to the side.

“im not having this conversation with you, call me when you done having your lil tantrum or whatever.” you ignore your boyfriend's scowl as you slide to the end of his bed and silently load everything into your coach tote bag, incoherently mumbling to yourself.

“the childish shit im talking about man.” he shakes his head, twin braids following suit. he gets out of his rolling chair, snagging the bag from your hands and holding it above his head where you can’t reach.

visibly annoyed, you roll your eyes at the tantrum he was throwing. before you had even dated him you laid down all possible icks, including your best friend. you told him how your relationship with said best friend was non-negotiable due to the significance he held in your life before miles. before miles, he was the one who you cried to, who you confined in about your family, your feelings, your insecurities. though after getting with miles you weren’t as close with him, he was still your best friend.

“miles give me my shit, don’t piss me off.”

“why? what you hiding? ain’t no way you not messing with him.”

in the stillness of his room, your phone rapidly vibrates inside your bag, miles interest immediately piqued when his fingers curve around the device, the name “dante <3” flashing on the screen.

he laughs to himself, but you knew better than to think it was a laugh of amusement. the manner of his laugh was deeply provoked, a telltale sign that it had an underlying meaning. he sends you a hard look, “so we adding hearts now too? bet.” he says while answering the facetime call.

“y/n?” dante calls out to you, the camera panned toward the ceiling, his ruffled locs in frame.

“nah she busy right now homeboy, what you want?”

“uh okay? can you ask her if she can retwist my hair this sunday?”

“nah.” he blatantly answers.

“huh?”

“dante hang up!” you call out from behind miles, to which he sends you another glare. before dante can respond miles hangs up, turning his whole body to face you. “so wassup?”

“miles give me my phone.”

“your phone? ma this our phone.” you roll your eyes once more and quickly snatch your phone from his grasp, shoving it into the tote bag and slipping your black crocs on. “don’t text my phone either.” you yell on your way out slamming his room door, silently praying that mama rio wasn’t home.

it was getting more and more difficult to manage the pit that sat in your bosom from the fight you had with your boyfriend earlier. you were used to talking to him in your dimly lit room around this time, your hands playing with the loose coils at the back of his head while saying cheesy things to each other, exchanging light pecks and subtle touches.

you groan loudly, tired of sulking to yourself you decide to get up from your bed, do your makeup and take pictures. you sit at your vanity, shuffling your playlist while opening up your makeup bag.

about 20 minutes into your routine, you hear incoherent voices coming from just outside your door. you tip toe towards the door, peaking your head out to see miles, helping your mom set the dinner table while engaging in small talk. “yeah, basketball’s good.” he says, smiling at her with all 32 pearly whites.

“y/n’s upstairs, ill call you guys down when dinners ready.” she smiles, coaxing him towards your room. you quietly shut the door, scrambling towards your vanity table, acting as if you had not witnessed the scene that took place just outside your door mere seconds ago.

you hear him quietly enter and creep up behind you, the mirror capturing his movements. you line your lips, ignoring your lovers presence even when he wraps his arms around your torso and repeatedly kisses your face.

“who you looking all fine for?”

you greet him with nothing but silence, putting your manicured finger over his lips which he attempts to bite.

“oh so it’s like that?”

“yeah, it’s like that, and I didn’t invite you over. go home.” you get up from your position, walking towards the door that he left open, closing it.

“what i told you ‘bout that mouth? you got all sorts of attitude today.” he argues, trailing behind you.

you scoff while crossing your arms, turning around and mean mugging him. you watch as he takes a moment and backs up, giving you a once over. the argument that had him so worked up earlier dissipated into thin air, his focus now on the biker shorts that hugged you a little too tight, and the cropped cami that hung a little too loosely. you watch a ghost of a smile adorn his lips.

“nasty ass.” you snap him out of his thoughts.

he snorts, taking a seat on your bed and pulling you in between his legs. “you still mad at me?” he questions you, raising his brows.

“it’s not gonna magically go away miles, you didn’t even try to apologize, showing up at my house at 8:00 kissing me and shit isn’t gonna fix anything.” it was the truth, and you weren’t backing down from it. you wanted an apology, you weren’t willing to go any further with him till you got said apology, you couldn’t push this to the side.

“y/n, baby, you know i love you but im not fucking with the way you making it look like im wrong for feeling the way i feel.” miles argued.

“because you are wrong! i told you about him before we even got together, you can’t expect me to drop him in 2 seconds just because you asked, he’s my best friend!” you argue back, keeping your voice down cautiously due to your nosy family on the other side of the door.

“no ma, im your best friend, you for my eyes only.”

“if you came here to argue with me you should just go.”

“we don’t sleep mad at eachother, we fixing this right now.” he says, dragging you into a straddling position atop him, his arms momentarily wrapping around your waist. your eyes dart around your room, refusing to make eye contact in fear of folding immediately.

“i just want you to put it this way, you got this fine ass girl, right? but then she got this ugly ass—“

“miles.” you warn him.

“… she got this boy best friend that she always on the phone with, always going out with, and she always wanna see him when you’re right there. she always talking about him, texting him when with you, answering his calls.” for the first time in a while you realize how off that sounds, maybe you had been the wrong one, though your stubborn nature made it hard to admit it.

he begins to speak again, “im not asking you to cut him off, im asking you to minimize how much you talk to him—im a guy and i know how we think. you might think y’all homeboys but he plotting on you, just think of it like that baby.” he finished while rubbing the skin of your thighs in slow tender circles.

“im sorry.” you quietly murmur under your breath into his shoulder. just barely loud enough so he can hear. but no, he had to hear this, you admitting you made a mistake.

he taps your thigh, “speak up, cant hear you.”

“you heard me, don’t be annoying.” you said when you realized his true intent, embarrassed by how you had previously acted.

miles snickered to himself, “ma?”

“yeah?”

“my fault for getting loud with you earlier, i didn’t mean to do all that.” he admitted, kissing your shoulder blade.

you remove your head from the crevice between his neck and shoulder, repeatedly giving him big smooches on the lips in acceptance of his apology which he gladly returns.

the moment is ruined by knocking on the door. you scramble off his lap which ultimately ends with you landing on the floor with a thud. snickers come from your bed, a deadpan expression immediately sweeping over your features.

“hope y’all not in there being nasty.” your mother calls out, “get decent and come downstairs to eat.”

love, berry <3

#miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv miles #atsv x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales

6K notes · View notes

hyewka · 1 year ago

Note

idk if this is allowed but,

threesome with yeonjun and beomgyu

⭑ fetish! | c.yj & c.bg ࿐

⭑ synopsis; when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.

⭑ warnings; inexperienced!reader, sort of soft dom!yj & switch!gyu, cunninglingus, gagging, throat fuck, cum eating, unsafe sex, creampie, basically all of them are drunk to some degree, iffy word choice with consent but its all definitely consensual, doll/baby petname, childhood best friends/college au

⭑ note; i don’t know how to feel about this at all and i feel like i might wake up one day and just randomly despise it with my entire being but here is a threesome fic long overdue on this blog, take it with what you will because this might just be the last time i ever attempt to challenge my skills 😭

⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!

“So what if we didn’t go all the way, I still got to eat her out. Which she loved F.Y.I.”

Yeonjun snorts, downing his drink. “Dude you’re such a loser.”

“Just say you don’t get bitches like I do.”

You don’t mean to, but that’s what breaks your nonchalance, cracking up like that was the funniest thing you’ve heard.

Like clockwork, both of their heads turn to you expectantly, as if remembering that you’re here with them and you know you just messed up. Maybe if you keep looking at your phone they’d know to leave you alone.

This has been a thing since highschool; their dumb Who Gets More Action wars that served almost no purpose but to stroke their young male egos. More times than you could count, you’re for some reason sucked in as the end all be all judge even if there were others present they could go and bother with details of their sex life.

You’re not letting that happen tonight. You will not become Simon Cowell of who fucks more.

“Hey,” Beomgyu starts nudging you with his feet, annoyingly persistent. “Hey hey, get off your phone, what are you laughing at?”

Yeonjun easily swipes your phone from your hands making you throw your head back groaning. God, to hell with him. “Give it back!” you whine. He shrugs, stuffing your phone in his pockets. Asshole.

You glare at him with murder on your mind, but all that gets you is a condescending pout thrown your way.

“Ughhh I’m going to throw up, stop with the flirting.”

You throw your plastic cup at Beomgyu’s face, and he flinches back in the most dramatic sense ever. “Bitch.” you mutter.

Yeonjun ignores Beomgyu’s comment altogether. “Everyone knows I get more bitches than you Beomgyu. That’s why she laughed. Plus, you make up shit all the time.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You lied about Yoo Jimin.” You recall, giving up on getting your phone back.

Yeonjun makes a sound of remembrance, clasping his hands together. “That was actually so funny. Yoo Jimin. You’ve lost your mind.”

Beomgyu shoots you a betrayed look, “No way you believe his propaganda! We literally had sex! Halloween 2021!”

You give him a skeptical look, brows raised. Beomgyu could fool anyone, but he can’t fool Yeonjun, let alone you. Beomgyu and Jimin? Didn’t make sense. Not on Earth at least.

“That’s one person anyway who cares.” he mutters.

“Ryujin.” You name. “She’s lesbian Gyu. Even when she was questioning she would’ve rather killed herself than let a man touch her.”

Yeonjun barks into laughter, leaning into you. “Ryujin of all people is fucking mental man.”

“Two people, still very little.” he counters.

Was that a challenge? If he wanted to play this game, you would be an expert.

“Jihyo, Miyeon—”

“I fucked Miyeon.”

“Yeah but you said she let you fuck her in the ass, which! She revealed never happened.”

He gasps in horror, face dropped, like that had to be the most offensive thing hes heard.

“I literally have proof it happened, holy shit Miyeon’s a pathological liar.” Beomgyu fumbles his phone, eyes laser focused as his thumb swipes in rapid speed. You snicker, he’s such an idiot. You know he’ll turn up empty but hes on a mission so you let him be.

“Can you pass me the beer?” you mutter lazily, feeling the alcohol hit you now, making a grabbing motion to the can far from your reach.

“Sure you want more?” Yeonjun whispers, with a similarly lazy slur to his words.

You were all clearly buzzed out, sprawled on the floor of your living room, your table pushed to the side with multiple beer cans crushed in a mess. It’s your version of heaven— a little sad maybe, but it was the perfect mix of mundane and fun to you.

“Just beer.” You reply.

He nods, grabbing it for you and instinctively twisting the cap open. Hes’ always been like that, an acts of service sort of guy. The small flex of his veins when he does it is something you silently take note of. You’re so far gone with your small crush on him.

You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Thanks. Are you gonna give me back my phone or?”

He pretends to think it over, before clicking his tongue. “Nah, later.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip from your can.

“We don’t get to hangout like this often, missed it y’know? So you can hold off your phone addiction for a bit and stop acting bratty.” he teases.

“Aye aye captain.”

He tuts at you, nudging your shoulder. “I literally cringe internally every time you say that.”

You hum, looking over at Beomgyu. Who is incredibly tense, almost frozen. “Why’d you stop scrolling?”

Maybe Yeonjun saw what you saw, Beomgyu’s face incredibly red, and eyes so weirdly fixed on his phone because he immediately scoots to him, nosy to take a look at his phone screen.

You study Yeonjun’s face. His brows slowly rise. And the only thing he says is “Damn.”

“What?” you ask, curiosity peaked. Nobody answers though, seemingly hypnotised by whatevers on Beomgyus screen.

Yeah, thats enough for your lazy ass to get up and see what they’re looking at.

…To say it’s not what you expect at all is an understatement.

The video playing has no audio, but the visual splayed out in Beomgyu’s hand is all it takes for your thighs to rub instinctively. The phone was obviously placed by the bedside, the view a little tilted, the girl with her face pressed onto the sheets as Beomgyu fucks into her mercilessly unrecognisable, the bed quite literally shaking to match his rhythm. Your face grows hot, and your throat dries, the video looks old because his hair is longer, messier, something that looked like it was from freshman year.

You’re surprised, it’s more than real. He really was going at it.

“I’m fucking her ass here.”

Holy shit. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.

“How would we know it’s Miyeon though?” Yeonjun says, eyes set on the screen.

Beomgyu forwards the video towards the end and lets it play—its the part where he picks up the phone and holds the girls head up by her hair, turning her over, capturing her face fucked out, a mix of spit and cum evidently all over, but more than that, its Miyeon’s face covered in filth.

You bite down on your lips, nervously looking at Beomgyu—who catches your stare. “What?”

You shake your head, dismissing him.

Truth is, this might’ve been the most you’ve seen from Beomgyu in this light. The light that you’ve heard plenty of, but obviously never thought you’d actually…see. Hes always been slutty, especially with him being infamous for his gross PDA on campus, but seeing it—seeing him actually fucking the light out of someone…you gulp down the lump stuck in your throat.

“You’re a freak dude.” Yeonjun says, laughing.

“But not a liar.”

“Nah you’ve yet to prove Jimins, wheres the tape?”

“You just wanna see her getting railed, touch luck bitch.” Beomgyu closes his phone making you realise you were still staring. “Hey, you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Beomgyu shifts his attention to you, making you nervous, shrugging his concern off.

Yeonjun speaks for you instead, a smirk plastered on his face. “She’s a virgin, basically saw something worse than a ghost.”

God, this again!

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun!”

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun.” He mimics annoyingly high pitched and you groan.

“I’m not. I’ve had multiple boyfriends before.”

“Three.” Beomgyu says, “You’ve had three boyfriends.”

“All very long and fruitful relationships, mind you.”

Yeonjun leans back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his back and you know this is a sign that he’s going to be a little bitch about this. “How far have you went?”

“All the way.” you glare back challengily, sipping on your beer.

“Had someone nut in your ass?”

You snap your head to Beomgyu in horror, upper lip quirked. Of course he’d be curious about that. “Damn I’m taking that as a no.”

You force a smile and flip him off rightfully. The little bitch sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and you have half the mind to not smack him.

“Have you done it without a condom?”

You narrow your eyes at that. Yeonjun’s awfully curious, way too curious for someone whos never been curious. Seriuously, he’d be the last person to care for your sex life. Maybe Beomgyu—totally Beomgyu, but not Yeonjun.

“Is this an interrogation?”

Yeonjun shrugs.

“I—okay, I haven’t. I bet you guys haven’t either.” You immediately regret saying that, it’s obvious they’ve done something so trivial. And its even made more obvious when both of them start laughing maniacally.

Your face runs red, resorting to chugging more beer.

Beomgyu rests his head on your lap suddenly and you quirk your brow down at him. “What? Your thighs are comfortable.”

You narrow your eyes at him, skeptical of what exactly he’s trying to pull until Yeonjun’s asking you questions again after calming down from his laughing fit.

“Gotten fingered?”

“Well no shit.”

Beomgyus attention is piqued, “You have?”

“How else am I supposed to…you know..get prepped?” you say, coughing around the word.

Beomgyu snorts, “You just did the most virgin thing ever oh my god.”

“That’s why I don’t believe a single thing coming out of her mouth.”

“I’m not a virgin.” you say for the umpteenth time. When they both exchange silent looks, you clear your throat. “But, I might be a little…inexperienced. That’s it though, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex…like twice.”

Beomgyu shoots up, making you jump in shock. “Twice?!” he shouts. He looks at you like you might’ve just led the saddest life of the entirety of human history.“And three boyfriends? The math isn’t…”

“Well one of them believed pre-marital sex would have us damned so—”

“Oh yeahh, your Christian boy Mark.” Yeonjun marvels. “That guy was a total bitch.”

Yeah, Mark. The guy you thought you’d end up marrying someday, until he decided to cheat with an anal whore as you call it. Cheating on you in broad daylight, in the apartment you shared wasn’t enough, he tried to mansplain the difference between anal virginity and vaginal virginity right after he was caught.

You shudder remembering the scene.

“A little unrelated but I always sort of thought you guys fucked.” Beomgyu starts, breaking the silence. “Like at least once.”

You sigh, he’s never letting this sexual tension bullshit thing go. If anything, Yeonjun probably saw you in the least sexual light possible. Unfortunately. “No. No we haven’t Beomgyu, we keep telling you this.”

“You” He points a finger at you, “Keep telling me this. Not him. That’s suspicious.”

Yeonjun doesn’t say anything even as both you and Beomgyu stare at him— he just mixes his soju and beer together for another shot.

You relent, speaking up. “Yeonjun tell him we haven’t fucked so he can stop insinuating that we’re freaks behind closed doors 24/7.”

Beomgyu snickers at that, still toying with the fabric of your shorts. You think it’s just out of habit.

“Yeah, we haven’t.” Yeonjun finally confirms.

You widen your eyes at Beomgyu to taunt him, getting all up on his face, nonverbally celebrating an I told you so. He just rolls his eyes at you, a dumb smile on his face.

“But I want to.”

…What.

That has both you and Beomgyu frozen, his smile slowly dropping before he turns to face Yeonjun.

Your mind works overtime trying to process whether you heard that right, did it have any hints of a joke, why couldn’t you pick up on it then? Or whether all your life you’ve read it all wrong—is it the drinks speaking or? But drunk words are sober thoughts…right? Is he just-

“Huh?” Beomgyu’s the one to ask for a clarification first.

He only shrugs, proving that none of you heard him wrong. “I wanna fuck her. I mean, you’re hot I’m not being unreasonable.”

You don’t know how to respond without sounding like an even more awkward virgin, so you stay silent, trying to make sense of it in your own head. But when you catch Beomgyu slowly nodding from your peripheral vision like what Yeonjun’s saying makes sense, you painfully nudge him.

He whines, defending himself almost immediately. “What? He’s not wrong, you’re mega hot now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut irritated, “Don’t—god, don’t ever say ‘mega hot’ again.”

Beomgyu mumbles something intelligible, something that sounded like one of his sulky protests that you just ignore as the room falls silent again. Yeonjun seems completely unbothered of the atmosphere, drinking his somaek like this was just another normal day, like he didn’t just air out something that could potentially completely flip your entire dynamic.

The tension is thick, and it suddenly feels way too hot to be here anymore but then Beomgyu speaks up again. “Do you know how to suck a dick?”

You snort, not answering as you keep your eyes on the floor.

But it’s impossible to ignore him when he keeps staring at you, almost too intensely for a question you thought was to break the tension. You look to his face, and there’s no sign of lightheartedness anywhere. He was seriously asking. “So? Do you?”

You decide to humor him, anything to get over this suffocating silence. “Sort of.”

Yeonjun chuckles, “What does ‘sort of’ mean?”

You roll your eyes, frankly irritated that he’s even speaking right now. “Sort of means I can, but I don’t know if I’m …good at it.”

He hums in understanding, nodding. “Wanna test your skills out right now?”

Your eyes bulge out, blinking rapidly as you look at Yeonjun in shock. Did he seriously just…say that? Your face grows even hotter as you stutter around a response.

But before you could even form a proper response, Beomgyu says something first, whining into his hands. “I literally cannot be the only one really fucking turned on right now.”

At his words, your eyes instinctively look down to his pants and god, he wasn’t kidding. You don’t know how you haven’t noticed until now, but the imprint of his dick building a tent in his sweatpants has you looking away like you’ve just seen the most sinful thing ever. You don’t miss the small patch of wetness at the top either. You rub your thighs together again, this time you curse your body for reacting because most of their attention was collectively on you now.

Meaning, they would inevitably notice small details.

And that they did. Yeonjun laughs, but it has laces of mean-spiritedness that has your brain frying at a faster speed. “You aren’t the only one. Our little dolls’ horny as shit too, aren’t you? Look at you rubbing your thighs for just the little bits of friction.” Yeonjun says the last part with a pout, so condescendingly, his eyes heavy lidded with what you’re sure is lust.

That gets Beomgyu’s attention, who was lost in his own dilemma, who’s close enough to touch you, to do something, and that has you more nervous than the time you had to present an unfinished slideshow to the harshest professor in your major.

Your throat is dry again, and you can’t seem to get out a word no matter how hard you try. Beomgyu licks his lips momentarily, staring at you, waiting for something, maybe a cue? You don’t know, but they’re both definitely waiting.

Beomgyu’s impatient, and shameless, if that wasn’t already obvious enough. With a rasp to his voice, he whispers, “God, I really wanna touch you right now.”

And you whisper back, like this was secret gossip you’d exchange between yourselves at recess about who was mean to who, who liked who, except this time you’re all grown up, and he’s asking to…touch you. You look behind Beomgyu, Yeonjun very much invested in what’s happening makes you on the fence. “But it’ll—it’ll get…weird. Like, between us.”

Beomgyu’s quick to counter. “No, no it won’t, I promise. Everything’s going to be the exact same. Just baby, please. Let me take care of you.”

The use of a petname again has you biting down on your lips. You search his eyes, and he looks so…desperate, the sudden switch baffling to you, so different from how you usually see him. Is this how he gets with the girls he fucks? It’s so hot, you’ve never been met with this much enthusiasm.

Your feelings heighten even more when he whispers again at your silence, “Please, I’m dying here.”

You let out a breath you were holding in, nodding, “Okay, it’s—it’s okay. You can. Touch me I mean.”

This is the absolute last thing in the world you’d ever expected, like ever. Beomgyu touching you, ministrating your breasts roughly with his big hands through your top, kneeling between your legs, kissing all over from your jaw to your neck like he hasn’t gotten action in decades. It’s like everywhere, your skin scorches, every inch—and he’s so fiery, so harsh with his squeezes and bites that you’re so unprepared for, so unprepared in fact that your eyes already brim with tears, head becoming light with too much stimulation in too little time as you feel him play with your shorts in attempt to take them off.

Suddenly, Beomgyu’s shoved off you completely, having him fall on his ass with a thud. Your eyes fly open in worry, only to be met with Yeonjun way closer to you than earlier. “Dude, calm down you’re going too fast.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes irritably, “You know you could’ve told me that without fucking throwing me off her, right?”

“Like your ass would listen.” Yeonjun mutters, refocusing his attention to you, “Come on, get up on the couch doll, I’ll show you how its done.”

You’re hesitant. You’re okay with messing around with Beomgyu—you are because he’s the best friend that you have zero romantic feelings for, but Yeonjun? You already have this…tiny crush on him that has been fostering since the dawn of times, a light lit then dimmed for years throughout the time you’ve known him…would this not set it on a full blown out fire? Are you ready to risk getting your rocks off to find out?

Yeonjun calls your name again, snapping you out of your reverie. “If you don’t want to I’m not gonna…”

“No no, um—sorry I was just, like, thinking. Sure.” you choke out, cheeks red.

Fuck it.

You situate yourself on the couch like he instructed, looking at Beomgyu for a second in semi-panic, but that horndogs too far gone to properly communicate with you through telepathy so you’re left a puddle, a little jittery as you nervously pick at the thread of the old couch, preparing yourself for whats to come.

Yeonjun smiles, slotting himself between your legs. “I’m gonna take it slow, ‘kay? Tell me if it becomes too much and I’ll stop.”

You nod, taking a deep breath then out to calm your nerves. You don’t have to help him out with pulling your shorts down, it’s like he’s so experienced that he knows how to get around it without you doing much. Which doesn’t help to make you relax…at all. He’s experienced, and you’re not. That’s a cause of a million worries running through your mind at the moment.

The air that had felt so hot earlier, feels cool now, and you shudder a little. “You’re drenched doll, that’s cute.”

Beomgyu finally sits himself next to you, hand on his crotch, slowly rubbing it out as he stares at what Yeonjun sees, craning his neck to get a good look. And you feel…so exposed, it makes your ears red with a mix of shame and arousal as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You jolt a little when you feel his tongue poking at your entrance through your panties—he’s slow as he licks up your slit, soaking your underwear more and more.

“Any of your boyfriends ever eat you out?” Beomgyu asks, hand squeezing his cock through his sweats, before having the genius idea of replacing his with yours—his warm hands resting on yours, guiding you to press down harder on his boner. As if he’s showing you—making you feel how big he is.

You shake your head to his question, and he airs out a chuckle. God, you really want to slap yourself for finding that so attractive. “Of course. Might as well be a real virgin.”

You want to retort back, you really do, because god forbid Beomgyu have the last word, but it's impossible when Yeonjun hooks his finger to push your underwear to the side because you're a goner, a goner the minute you feel his warm breath on your skin, and even worse when you feel his tongue lapping at your core, the direct contact making you gasp out a moan, jolting you awake, clearing your drunk daze.

"Yeonjun, Yeonjun shit-" you don't mean to tighten your grip on Beomgyu, but you do in response to Yeonjuns stimulation which has him hiss, bucking into your touch.

"Do that again. Harder. Touch me baby, yeah, just like that." He babbles, holding onto your wrist, groaning when you oblige, wrapping your hand on his clothed shaft and squeezing the base.

Yeonjun looks at you through lidded eyes, his hands firmly keeping your legs apart, nose brushing against your clit every so often to tease before he finally decides to flatten his tongue against it, finger prodding at your entrance at the same time, making you inexpectantly arch your back, moaning. "F-fuck Jjun!"

You could feel the smirk, the cockiness radiating off him— it oozes even, it's so evident he likes this dynamic, you so reactionary to each little thing he does.

Beomgyu helps you palm his dick before he finally relents, too horny out of his mind, shoving your hand down his pants, making you feel his hot dick, so sticky and wet, it's lewd. "'Move your hand baby, c'monnn. Good girl." He groans, trying to guide you to a speed he finds fitting.

You start getting the hang of it, your hand jerking off his dick without help even as you're practically dumbed out with Yeonjun's tongue working at your sex, trying to purposefully make you lose your mind.

“Pussy so good doll, so good.” his words muffle against your core and it sends a vibration that has your pace falter.

Suddenly, Yeonjun detaches, making you feel terribly empty, and horrible because you were sure you were close. Before you could complain, your eyes widen at him unbuttoning his jeans, dropping them to the floor to have his cock flinging out of his boxers. He gives it a couple strokes, breathing heavy as he stares at your pussy. Wet with his spit, messy. He groans, biting his lips raw and you’ve just never felt so much as a prey until now. “Gonna fill you up soon, don’t worry doll.”

“Pay attention to me too,” Beomgyu whines, kissing your neck again, the space under your earlobe, his teeth grazing against your skin, just begging to have your attention. “Unfair if it’s only him.” he breathes, kissing and kissing and kissing, until he decides to move up to your lips, taking you up a wind as you jerk his dick off faster.

His whines and mewls melt into the sloppiness of the kiss and god is it the hottest thing ever, shit.

Yeonjun basically breaks the kiss by pushing Beomgyu off of you again, and if you had half the mind to think, you would’ve caught the irritation radiating off Beomgyu at Yeonjuns constant cock blocking.

You can’t think now, not when Yeonjun’s lining his dick up with your hole, feeling his hot tip prodding and your pussy fluttering around nothing to suck him in. “Ready? Relax yourself so it’ll feel good, ‘kay?”

You nod, humming.

“Words princess.”

“I’m—I’m ready Jjunie.”

He gives you a crooked grin, fingertips digging into the plush of your hips.

You try, you really do, you try giving them both an experience but the more Yeonjun pushes himself in you, the slower your hand becomes until you finally let go, breathing heavy at the inexplicable feeling of just…fullness. When he’s flush and snug against your core, completely inside you, he relishes, he stays there, eyes fluttering closed with his face so, so close to yours.

And he whispers to you, words Beomgyu can’t possible hear even if he wishes to, and even words you could’ve missed if you weren’t so in tune with every single sense that you’re feeling right now.

“Wish he wasn’t here when I could finally have you.”

You’re driven over the edge, not even given the time to process, before he’s drilling his dick into you—in then back, slowly before he’s building up to snapping his hips, having you gasp in shock at each thrust. You let the stray tear run down, hell, at this point you’re giving all autonomy of your body to the two boys right now, you’re not in control of anything anymore.

“Tight, so tight and warm,” he groans, getting faster, “Shoulda prepped you more, huh? Fuckin’ tighter than a virgin, can barely move.” He laughs breathy.

You just nod, nod at whatever filthy shit he says, tightening your grip on the couch, squeezing your eyes shut at how the pain just bleeds into the pleasure. You’ve never had it like this with your past boyfriends, it never felt like this.

Suddenly, you feel something hot poking at your cheek which spurs you to open your eyes. Your eyes damn near almost bulge out at Beomgyu’s size, cock insistently trying to move past your lips.

“Want your mouth, please, fuck.”

Can you even take that in your mouth?

He doesn’t wait for your contemplation, that’s not Beomgyu’s thing. He does it anyway, managing to slide his dick in your mouth, not even letting you get used to it like Yeonjun had even when he’s a lot bigger, pushing all the way in. He throws his head back, groaning curses as you gag around his length, breathing restricted.

“God you’re so hot like this, princess. Taking my cock so well,” he growls, moving his hips to fuck your mouth. Your eyes water, burning as the taste of him overpowers your senses— all of that paired with Yeonjun’s rhythm getting rougher and more frantic has you lose yourself in ecstasy you don’t think you can handle.

You think you might just faint.

“Have you always been like this? So good at sucking cock, slutty throat just waiting to be stuffed with dick?” Beomgyu rambles filth, losing himself faster than Yeonjun, looking down at you with so much hunger. You return his gaze, blinking up at him innocently, as if to disagree. You’re not slutty, you aren’t.

But that seems to spur him on a completely different direction, like something snapped inside him, cursing loudly as he ruthlessly starts fucking into your mouth. Your mind clouds, dizziness setting in as you feel Yeonjun attach his lips to your nipple through your flimsy top, sucking harshly, making a mess of your shirt with his spit.

You garble around Beomgyu’s dick, trying to say something but it only comes out intelligible and like complete nonsense, it’s humiliating.

“God, you’re sucking me in so greedily, want me to fill you up with my cum so bad, huh?”

Yeonjun slaps your ass and you jolt again, snot and mascara running down your face. He starts kneeding your cheeks, snapping into you rougher, and somehow deeper, you fucking lose it. “You want it so bad, right? Say something baby, or I won’t give it to you.”

You nod, mouth still stuffed with Beomgyu’s cock, who he isn’t intent on stopping any time soon.

It’s enough for Yeonjun you guess because before you know it, you feel hot substance shoot up, filling you to the brim with his cum, still pumping it in even as your orgasm washes over you. You’re beyond overstimulated, especially when Beomgyu cums around the same time, his hot load forcing its way down your throat.

He holds your head against his abdomen, groaning the more he defills you. “Fuck if you do that I might just fall for you,” he growls, voice down octaves, fixating his eyes on how your throat gulps down his cum like it’s water at the Sahara. The taste is so strong, you start coughing up some of it out when his dick flops out of your mouth sticky, finally regaining your breath, gasping for air in large amounts, your cunt spilling Yeonjun’s seed onto the couch slowly, dribbling down to the floor to make a mess.

Beomgyu suddenly pushes Yeonjun out of the way to slot himself between your legs, kissing at your pussy.

“Beomgyu, don’t, can’t—stop, too much-” you try reasoning but he doesn’t listen, that brat. He just starts going at it, lapping at the cum spilling, his lips glistening with the wetness, alternating between kissing and licking your cunt. “‘Course you can baby, you can take it.”

You bite down hard on your lips, lightheaded as you look down at the man ravaging your pussy and cleaning you up at the same time.

To hell with that ‘nothing’s going to change’ bullshit promise, something definitely changed tonight and you can’t put your finger around what.

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt x reader #beomgyu hard thoughts #yeonjun hard thoughts #✶ ━━ rana ; answered

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novasjaneway · 3 months ago

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I feel like I need barrels, bushels, pecks and any other units of measure a farm girl like janeway would use to deliver videos, posts, pics, fanart and fanfics of J7 because they are the OTP and I just feel like it needs to be louder!

Edit to add: working on my own j7 writing and so far it's a poem.

#janeway/seven #j/7 #kathryn janeway #seven of nine #star trek voyager #my otp #janeway x seven #when we get to earth ill take you there #bloomington indiana #the captains wife

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 4 months ago

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Platonic Yandere Sea Monster

The ocean is a dangerous entity

Known for her high waves, immeasurable depths, and eternal mysteries

She entices millions into her cold embrace every day

Many of whom are devoured by said mysteries leaving no trace

One of its greatest mysteries is a creature who’s been roaming beneath the surface of the earth for eons

So it truly is a special occasion that Maelstrom breaks this streak for a feast on a private yacht

It’s far too easy how this new (to him) bipedal species gawks and helplessly flails while he sucks the bones out of their soft skin

He doesn’t care for the soft innards that the skin holds

He does like how their screams gurgle and warble as he delights in their crunchy bones

So he makes it his mission to devour or turn into water

And he’s sure that he’s done so with all of the little crunchy snack bags on the ship

Until he’s led into a cramped little closet with a tiny version of the springy boxes he’d found before

On it was a wailing babe—you

Now that he’s recognized

Because for all the different species evolution has brought it a crying infant was a common denominator

And you were crying hard

Whether you were the sibling or offspring of some ill-thinking teen or an overworked employee of the crew the one who was going to care for you was gone

And Maelstorm knew that

On the account that he’s certain he’d still be hearing your incessant crying on the entirely silent yacht, he molds his water-like body into something more like the ‘human skin bags’

Letting his face bulge and bubble with the vague memory of his meal’s screaming faces until you stop crying

“There…there…my pearl.”

It’s been so long since he’s been awake to have a pet

Surely it won’t be too hard

…right?

“Aaaaghh!”

“You’re not hungry, you’re not sleepy, you’ve already gone to the bathroom! WHAT IS IT!?”

He’s never been so stressed out

Stressed out trying to stop your little face from contorting anymore as you empty your little lungs and exhaust your little vocal cords

He eventually decides he does need help and uses one of the less rotted bodies to go on land and learn among these skin bags so that he knows what to do

“Oh poor sir looks like they’re just hungry for some warm hugs.”

“Is that…really all?”

“Why of course! Babies really hinge on your emotions and attention.”

After he takes in the ‘nurse’s’ wisdom he begins to feel something new

Something full of jealousy that has him snatching your swaddled form before giving a light pat that turns her into a puddle on the floor

Maelstorm easily finds another skin-bag with a nice face to take the body of

Leaving with a skip in his step while the ‘skin-bags’ authorities baffled over the only remnant of a missing ‘nurse’

“I see now to avoid this awful feeling I must make sure all my affection is being given to my pearl.”

From there you can be sure that you’re entire life will be filled with Maelstorm learning about the negative emotions he can get as you grow

True there will be many positive feelings

But he learns that to protect those precious new feelings

Barricading you on abandoned ships and attacking all the skin-bags that come to keep it that way

And even when you grow into the adults he’d previously snacked on

He won’t completely leave humans alone

He pulls back on this snacking habit only because he sees more of you in them

But he’s not going to stop eating them

Especially when he finds your attention drifting from him as you crave more socialization

“As far as I’m concerned all we need is each other. Now do I have to eat this entire village or will you go back to our boat?”

#yandere x you #yandere x reader #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere monster #platonic yanderes #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #yandere platonic #yandere sea monster #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere platonic oc Maelstorm #yandere original character #yandere original characters #yandere original character x reader

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ncis-nerd · 5 months ago

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Breaking Point

older!nat x reader

warnings: anxiety, sleeping problems, mentally exhausted, crying, hints of mental illness?, age difference, petnames, spilled water, arguing, wet clothes, burnout?

grey november au

"And I think we have space in our budget to do such a thing" Tony shrugged. You had another meeting and the earth's mightiest heroes could not agree upon how they wanted to spend the extra money they had.

You sighed softly, waiting for something solid so you could go back to note-taking. Natasha's eyes fell on you, after listening to Tony and Steve's back and forth.

"You okay" She mouthed, seeing your eyes drop. You were so tired, your anxiety had been worse lately and you couldn't sleep. Scratch that, you wanted to sleep but you were so busy with other work.

"I think we should take 5 before we have another situation guys.." Natasha side eyed Steve. "Hey! It wasn't my genius idea to use the metal suits" Steve rolled his eyes at Tony. Tony shrugged and said "sure, I could go for some water. Y/n?" His eyes fell on you.

Silence. "Yeah, can you get some for me and y/n too, please?" Natasha spoke up.

It was just you and Natasha in the room when she came over to you. She bent down, to your level to meet your gaze. "Dove?" Natasha spoke softly, the feeling of concern hinted in her voice.

"talia' m so tired.." you whimpered, raising your teary eyes to meet hers. It hurt her to see you in such distress. "Oh detka.." Natasha sighed, wrapping her arms around yours.

"I know you have sleeping problems.. Maybe we can talk to Bruce about that? Get you on sleeping pills?" Natasha spoke carefully, not sure on where you stood about on taking meds.

You nodded; you were open to just about anything because you were reaching to your breaking point. That is if, we weren't there already.

Natasha's fingers found its place in your hair, scratching your scalp softly.

Tony and Steve walked back into the room, both men holding 2 overfilled glasses of water. They walked very slow, attempting to not spill any.

You were sitting next to Natasha when they returned, neither men commented on this. Instead, they took their seats. Tony began to speak "Y/N? Remind me, where did we leave off?" Your eyes glanced at the notes on your computer. "Metal suits? The budget, we were brainstorming on what the spend the money on" You spoke softly, Natasha rested her hand on your thigh as a measure to comfort you and let you know she is here.

"Ah yes, the budget! As I was saying, I need some money for spare parts!" Tony exclaimed. Steve butted in "You already have a bunch of suits, how much more could you possibly need? " Steve huffed. As the two continued to argue, you picked up your cup to take a sip of water. Unfortunately it was filled to the max and you ended up spilling it all over you.

This caught the attention of Steve and Tony, distracting them from their argument. "I-" You stuttered. "And this concludes the end of the meeting. Steve, Tony, lets maybe not spend the whole meeting arguing next time?" Natasha jumped in, dismissing the tow men.

Steve and Tony left the conference room first. Before you could tear up, Natasha took your hand and let you to her room. "I think you need a warm, smoothing bath, babe. You need to relax, I'll run the bath and prep everything. Is that okay, dove?" Natasha spoke softly, her eyes meeting yours. You nodded.

taglist: @ssa-shaylam @madamevirgo @radcherryblossompainter @midastouch013 @dumbasslesbi @krystallevine @ellieromanov @fxckmiup @viosblog112-

part 2?

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ghostlyferrettarot · 7 months ago

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♥︎Pick a picture:💎✨️Everything about your next partner✨️💎

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

💫If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!💫

💎Masterlist💎

💎Pile 1: 10 of Cups, Ace of Wands and Ace of Cups.

Hi pile 1! Your next partner is someone fun and reliable, I sense a lot of air signs energy from them, they know how to be serious but also fun! I see someone taller than you and with curly hair; i keep hearing people laughing so he probably has a really good sense of humor.

You two will bond over similar interest and also humor, i see them making you laugh a lot which is really cute. This person is really focus when it comes to their job/career, and you may meet them in a work/academic environment; they are really smart when it comes to what they do and value their time also. This person is someone non judmental when it comes to others, they are on the more out going side and likes to get along with everyone; i see that they are this way because others may have judged them in the past.

Theres a lot of duality in your person, i feel that they have a balanced femenine and masculine energy, they are in touch with their emotions and wont play around when it comes to a romantic connection. They will be really dedicated towards you, a trully loving energy; they want to be the one to be with you in your good and bad days, theres something about sharing memories and spending time with you that they really value and love, i keep hearing "you are the light of my life".

💎Signs: Air signs, glasses, blue, autum and winter season, winter holidays.

🪩Channeled Song:

💎Pile 2: Knight of Wands, The Emperor and 4 of Swords.

Hi pile 2! I see that this person is someone who is not the relationship type, they are more focused on other aspects of their life, but you will change this for them! They have a fast energy, always setting new goals in their lifes. Because of this, they probably have the romantic aspect of their life quiet down; but when they meet you is like an instant spark for them. They will try to approach you and get to know you, their energy is dominant. Dark hair is really prominent, as well as longish hair and jewerly, i also see tattos on the hands and arms.

I feel like when both of you meet will be like a divine scenario, like it was meant to be, maybe you also resonate to be more focused on other aspects of you life instead of the romantic one. I don't know how to explain but this trully feels like a divine meeting, everything fell into place in order for you to meet, i heard "we almost missed eachother". I also see a rainy scenario so maybe the day you meet is on a rainy day.

Both of you will grow together, it will be a serious connection and you will feel really secure with them, maybe even doing long terms changes with them like moving or adopting a pet. You bring another side of them, the most loving and caring one; i'm hearing that you are their one and only, is like you could get anything out of them with just a look from your pretty eyes (their words pile 2🥹).

I trully see this as a long lasting connection; also this person family/friends will really love the relationship, it feels like you bring out the more fun side of them, you ground them somehow.

💎Signs: Earth signs, dark colors, mid lenght hair, cats, piercings.

🪩Channelled Song:

💎Pile 3: 4 of Wands, Ace of Swords and The Fool.

Hi pile 3! I feel like this will be a ying and yang type of connection. You two may be seem really different but are actually more alike that what others thinks. This will be a very healing relationship, if you have had bad romantic experiences in the past, this person is coming to help you heal and evolve together. I keep hearing "Ill be you safe space", which is really beautiful; you will feel really comfortable with them. I see someone with brownish hair, they may have dimples and a really pretty smile.

This persons energy is a really kind and soft one, they may be the type of person who always seems relax and tries to see the positive side of life; maybe they do charity work or its involved in a career that requieres to connect/be in touch with a lot of people.

I see that you two will travel a lot together and would potentially build a home too; i feel that non of you will rush into the relationship, both will build a solid friendship and then will start developing a romantic connection, trully taking your time to get to know eachother. I am getting a Colin and Penelope from Britgerton type of vibe. I see that both of you will enjoy spending time together around the house, watching movies or cooking, so if you are a home buddy type of person, your person is too! I see cute dates in the park, but specially long conversations and bonding, i feel like you would be eachothers favorite person.

💎Signs: Earth/ Water placements, Green, Spring season, City, Brown hair, green eyes.

🪩Channeled Song:

💎Thanks for reading and tell

me if it resonated💎

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starogeorgina · 7 months ago

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𝐊𝐞𝐩𝐚

Paring: Daemon Targaryen × reader, Harwin Strong x reader, Criston Cole x reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut, child birth

1.03

You blink away unshed tears as you stare up at Ser Harwin; the look on his face was earth-shattering. No traces of anger or bitterness could be detected on his handsome face; the softness in his eyes made you feel nothing but guilt. You should never have believed the rumors, given into your husband's taunting or gone near Criston Cole.

You’re unaware that you’re crying until Harwin wipes them away with the pads of his thumb. “Prince Daemon told me your news; congratulations, princess.” He leans forward and kisses your forehead, and in a quiet voice, he says, “He also told me what he said to you. I wish I’d known sooner.”

Ser Harwin wasn’t a fool; he knew his beloved princess’s outburst of believing the rumors surrounding him and Princess Rhaenyra being true hadn’t come from thin air, but he had no idea Daemon was the one behind it. The Targaryen prince thrived in chaos, but after causing so much damage, the knight was grateful to be away from the keep for some time; otherwise, he might have done something to get himself executed.

“Do you forgive me?”

Harwin sighs, “There’s nothing to forgive. It was a misunderstanding.”

Pouting, you shake your head. “I should never have doubted you... henujagon īlva, valzȳrys.” (Leave us, husband.)

You wait until you hear Daemon leave; he didn’t need to be involved in your conversation, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist if he was within earshot. You take Harwin’s large hand in yours and say, “I love my husband; he’s the other half of me. Targaryens are made to burn together, but I love you too. I don’t know how to explain it; it’s a different kind of love. Since I was a girl, I always knew I’d marry Daemon, regardless of how I felt, but I chose to be with you. You make me feel safe and—”

“What is it you’re trying to tell me?” Harwin wipes away another fallen tear. “I’ve memorized each time you’ve confessed your love to me, which is how I know something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I don’t know whose baby this is. I forgot to drink moon tea after the last time we lay together.”

His blue eyes fill with tears. “Prince Daemon will be the father.”

“I’m sorry.”

Your heart aches a little when Harwin hugs you; he was a good man. A far better person than you, Daemon, or Criston. He wasn’t selfish, violent, or entitled. You only wish you’d never questioned his loyalty to begin with.

“There’s something else I need to tell you.”

—

As the months passed, your body changed, and the gorgeous gowns you had made could no longer hide how large your bump had gotten. Rhaenyra often thought you were carrying more than one baby when your bump first started to swell, but now you were convinced she was right.

Daemon smooths his hand gently over the fabric of your dress, feeling the baby kick beneath. You were comfortable laying on your left side with multiple pillows fluffed around you to keep you in that position. Your husband lay behind you with his face nuzzling into the side of your neck.

“Have you spoken much with Ser Harwin?”

“No,” you say, feeling your lip tremble slightly. “Perhaps it is for the best; the less he is near during my pregnancy, the less people will talk.”

Daemon kisses your cheek. “The baby could look exactly like us, and the Greens would still gossip. I suspect the same will happen with Rhaenyra as soon as she has an heir.”

Your sister and her husband, Ser Laenor, had gone to visit various houses in the realm on behalf of your father, who was too ill to travel the distance himself. Although they had gone on dragonback, a large number of knights, including Ser Harwin, had been sent to protect them. When you confessed your antics with Cole to Ser Harwin, he was mad for a while but insisted he still wanted to be with you; he just needed some time.

“And what if the baby doesn’t look like us?” You knew no matter what, you’d love and protect your child fiercely, but you needed reassurance from Daemon. “I’ve been beyond foolish; I’ve given them the opportunity to make my child’s life miserable before they are even born.”

“I will cut out the tongues of anyone who dares question the legitimacy of our child. Any baby you have will be an extension of you; it would be impossible for me not to love them.” He rubs his hand along your stomach again. “This is my son or daughter growing inside you. Nothing anyone says will change that.”

—

“Princess, it’s time to push again.”

“I can’t! I can’t!” You sob, clutching onto the bed sheets tightly. The pain was overwhelming; you were convinced this is what dying felt like.

“Push!”

The midwives help guide you through the last few pushes until your daughter finally enters the room. She is placed on your chest, and you sob with happiness, “She’s perfect—oh fuck.”

Your daughter is quickly carried away to be cleaned up as the midwife pushes your legs open again. “Time to do this second time, princess.”

—

Daemon hums while gently rocking your daughter Daella to sleep, while your son Gaemon suckles at your breast. They were only a few hours old, but it already felt like you'd spent a lifetime loving them.

“Perhaps when you are feeling up to it, we can pick dragon eggs for the baby’s.”

You smile and say, “That would be nice.”

With Syrax having laid another clutch of dragon eggs, you were on your way to the dragon pit to pick one while being accompanied by your husband and sworn protector, but before you could leave the courtyard, your waters broke. Ser Harwin immediately picked you up and carried you back to your chambers, while Daemon sent for the maester and midwives.

“There, there,” Daemon says before gently placing your daughter into the crib next to your bed.

You smile down at her. Daella shares your pale complexion; her silver hair and the shade of her purple eyes were an exact match for yours. Gaemon got almost all his features from you, like his sister; his skin was pale and his hair silver, except his eyes were a dark brown.

“I think he’s had his feed,” you say when Gaemon stops feeding and his eyelids slowly start to close.

Daemon takes him from your arms so you can readjust your nightgown. He kisses the baby on the forehead. “They really are perfect.”

—

Sitting underneath the weirwood tree, you smile as Daella attempts to walk along one of the thick roots sticking out of the ground, with your loyal knight Ser Harwin right behind her, ready to catch her the second she slips. Gaemon lays back, his head resting against your legs, as you read a story about dragons out loud. Both eggs had hatched in the cradle, and your children were now getting to the age where they understood how powerful and magical dragons are.

“Careful, princess,” Harwin says softly. “Slow down before you fall.”

Daella grins up at the knight before jumping onto a different root. It wouldn’t be long before curiosity got the better of her, and she attempted to climb the tree.

When screeching comes from the distance, Gaemon points to the sky and says, “Mama, look! It’s kepa!”

You look up and see the Blood Wyrm flying in the direction of the dragonpit. Daemon always made a point of returning from dragon riding before supper time so he could dine with his family. When you lower your gaze from the sky, you are met with the cold gaze of Ser Criston Cole. You often notice the knight observing your son and daughter from a distance, but he makes no attempt to interact with them.

Although Cole would never admit it, you had a feeling he would risk his life for them just as Daemon and Harwin would.

—

Harwin takes one of the pebbled nipples into his mouth while you lean over him, your hands pressing against his chest. Daemon kisses the back of your neck, occasionally nipping at your sensitive skin with his teeth as he thrusts into you from behind. Over time, the three of you had come to an agreement that when the time came and you wished to have another baby, you and Harwin couldn’t fuck as you normally would, eliminating any chances of him getting you pregnant since you wouldn’t be drinking moon tea. But you still wanted to be intimate with Harwin, and your ever-devoted husband came up with an idea.

Daemon’s voice is cocky as he says, “So, Ser Harwin, how do you feel about our princess taking what she wants from us at the same time?”

Harwin grins. “Do you think you could take both of us?”

“Yes, I want you both.”

“Greedy girl!” Daemon smacks your ass.

Your heart races with anticipation at the thought of having both of them inside you at the same time. You're used to making love to them both, but this would feel different—more intimate, more primal. Harwin and Daemon had mutual respect for one another, but they mainly bonded over how much they loved your little family.

Your husband chuckles softly, his warm breath caressing your ear. “You’ll get what you desire, my love. I’ve bet you’ve thought about this plenty of times before, haven’t you?”

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you nod.

A princess desperate to feel her husband and lover fill her up at the same time.

Daemon slowly withdraws his shaft from your cunny, leaving you aching for more. He sits down on the bed beside Harwin, but before you have the chance to move over to his lap, the knight hooks his hands under your thighs and pulls you up until you are hovering over his face. Not wasting time, Harwin starts flicking at your sensitive clit with his tongue.

Daemon smirks as he listens to your whine. He had already ‘prepared’ both your holes before Harwin joined you in the bedchamber. After coming apart on Harwin’s lips, Daemon gently pulls the small cock-shaped object from your anus, then pulls you onto his lap so you are facing him, and slides his cock into your cunny again.

He leans back and pulls you down with him, gripping your shoulders and spreading them while Harwin readjusts himself behind you. The thought of having them both causes your clit to throb, “Please.”

Harwin guides his thick cock to where you’re aching for him. With a gentle nudge, he pushes past your resistance and enters your tight hole. You gasp as he fills you completely. The sensation of having them both inside you is foreign and exhilarating. Harwin begins to rock his hips gently, slowly pulling them out before pushing them back in again, while Daemon thrusts upwards at a harsher pace.

“How does it feel? Daemon asks, pinching your nipple between his fingers. “Good as you imagined?”

“So, so good.”

Your mind becomes hazy with pleasure when one of them starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. You come apart, squeezing both of them tightly. Harwin shoots his seed inside you, then Daemon follows shortly after, coating your cunny in his seed, which he will hopefully take.

The knight slowly pulls out, then brushes your sweaty hair out of your face and kisses you deeply. Daemon smirks, “Take your time catching your breath, my good knight, as we will be here all night.”

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goldenempyrean · 2 months ago

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I'm Better With You

〚 Notes - First Addison fic so I'm just testing the waters here, Ill likely write for her in the future so feel free to send requests for her :)〛

〚 Pairing - Addison Montgomery x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - You find Addison sitting in the rain after a rough surgery. You take it upon yourself to make sure she's cared for 〛

〚 Wordcount - 6,040 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“What on earth are doing standing out here in the rain like that?” The sound of your shocked voice made Addison jump out of her thoughts from the bench she had been sitting on. A bench was completely unsheltered for the pouring Seattle rain. “You’re completely and utterly soaked! You’ve gotta get back inside and dry off.”

Addison blinked up at you through the mist of rain dripping from her soaked red hair, a distant look in her eyes. "I needed some air.” She mumbled weakly, her eyes not quite meeting your own.

You shook your head softly, taking off your coat and pulled it over her shoulders, “There’s getting air and then there’s sitting in a downpour. You’ll catch your death out here.” Your hand reached down to hers and gently tugged, letting her know it was time to get up, “Come back inside.”

Addison seemed to hesitate for a short second as your hand tugged gently at hers, her body shivering as the cold rain continued to soak through her clothes. For a moment, it seemed like she might refuse, but then her shoulders slumped, and she finally let herself be pulled to her feet.

“I wasn’t thinking properly.” She murmured, voice low as the two of you stood in the doorway, the heat from inside the building seeped out and she already felt a little warmer. “I just.. I needed to get out of there.” 

You couldn’t stop your face switching from one of concern to sympathy. You’d heard from an intern that she’d been in the OR for the last few hours and if her demeanour was anything to go by, it hadn’t gone well, “It’s okay, just breathe. You’re okay but next time you need to get some fresh air, maybe try a beneath a shelter?”

You reached up to reposition your coat which had slipped off her shoulders a little, “Or were you purposely going for the ‘recently drowned’ look?” The joke made her smile a little, a small smile but a smile nonetheless and you took the chance to kiss her cheek before taking her back inside.

Once inside, Addison finally realised how cold she actually was. Shivers ran over her arms as goosebumps rippled over her skin. She pulled your coat on tighter as she mumbled, “Thanks for bringing me in.”

“You don’t have to thank me Addie,” You smiled and ran your hand through her soaked hair, “Do you have anymore things you need to do today? I finish in an hour then we can both head home and cosy up?” You offered, knowing what Addison needed after days like this was a hot bath, some good food and cuddles.

Her eyes flicked up to meet yours for a brief second before she nodded, though she didn’t say anything right away. She looked drained, her usual composed expression cracked around the edges. She sighed and let her shoulders slump before finally speaking, “Home sounds good, I’m done for today.” 

“I thought so, I’ll be out by 7 at the very latest. I’ll meet you back home?” 

You watched with a small, sympathetic frown as you watch Addison shuffle towards her office. She looked exhausted, you knew how taxing a long surgery could be but you know how crushing it was to spend hours in the OR only for it to end badly. Addison especially was one to feel the loss personally, she’d never show it to anyone. 

Addison always held herself to impossibly high standards, and when something went wrong, she shouldered the blame alone. She’d put on a brave face and comfort others while simultaneously desperately trying to hold herself together just long enough until she was finally alone. Then she’d let it all out - feeling guilty for what went wrong, running the situation again and again in her head in an attempt to see if she could’ve done something more. 

The rest of your shift seemed to drag, as if time itself was crawling forward with no regard for how desperately you wanted to get home. Final rounds felt like they took more time, the corridors seemed longer somehow and the hands of the clock refused to move. You knew it was all in your head but that didn’t make it any better. 

Eventually though, the seconds ticked by and it was finally time for you to leave. No time was wasted as you gathered your stuff and headed out the doors. You’d decided it would be worth changing out of your scrubs before you left but you had forgotten to get your coat back off Addie and only had a thin jacket to keep your warm. It was still raining, a little heavier and you jogged beneath the dark clouds to your car. Luckily you didn’t get too wet, just enough to dampen your clothes and hair.

Thankfully the drive home wasn’t too long. The rhythmic pattering on rain on the metal roof provided a nice background as you drove through the streets. There was a little traffic, nothing terrible and you were soon pulling into your driveway.

As you parked up, the rain fell down in relentless sheets, you dreaded stepping out into it but the knowledge you’d be welcomed to the feeling of warmth and your wife was amazing. A sudden bright flash caught your attentive followed by a loud, angry clap of thunder, “Oh great.” You found yourself mumbling and made a mental note to bring the bins in. Last time there’d been a storm you had to go on a 15-minute search to try and find your wheelie bins which had been blown away.

“No point delaying the inevitable.” You said to yourself, and swung the car door open. Instantly you were battered with rain and grimaced as you ran to grab the bins from the end of the drive and dragged them up to be sheltered beside your porch. The relief that washed over you as you felt the pouring rain ease off as you stepped beneath the roof was amazing. You were definitely going to need a shower later but first...

“Hey I’m home.” Your voice called out into the house as you stepped inside, you shook off the rain and left your wet shoes at the door. You shrugged out of your wet jacket, letting it hang on the hook near the door, and called out again, "Addie?"

The house was still quiet, the subtle hum of the heating was the only thing keeping it from silence. You hummed softly to yourself as you headed further inside. You glanced up towards the living room and felt your shoulders relax as flickering lights reflecting from inside. The soft glow of an orange lamp made you feel a little better as you rounded the corner and looked around. You could recognise those red curls anywhere. Addison was currently curled up on the sofa and it wasn’t until you got closer that you realised, she still had your coat draped over her. Her hair was still damp but not as soaked as earlier and you could see that she was staring blankly at the television, though it didn’t seem like she was actually watching anything.

“Hey, you,” You murmured softly as you knelt down to be at her level, running your hand gently through her hair. She was a little colder than you would’ve liked and now that you looked closely, her skin was still dappled with goosebumps.

Addison blinked slowly as if emerging from a fog, her red-rimmed eyes finally meeting yours. Her lips curved into a small, weak smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "You're home," she said, her voice hoarse, as though she’d been on the verge of tears or had already shed them when she thought no one would see.

You smiled softly and came to sit beside her, warmth pooling in your stomach when she sat up and leant her body against you, the coat falling to the floor as she moved, “Yes, I’m home and you, my love, are freezing.” You mumbled as she involuntarily shivered, “What do you say to having a nice warm bath? I’ll run it all nice for you, I’ll even let you use my bubble bath.”

She leaned into your further before taking a deep breath and exhaling with a small sigh, “A bath sounds nice.” She sniffled quietly after a moment, nodding as you helped her to sit up again.

“Come on then darling.” Your hand extended to take her own as you gently pulled her to her feet. She shuffled close beneath you as you nudged her in the direction of the bathroom, you heard her yawn widely and excused herself quietly as she followed you which made a small smile tug at the corners of your lips. She was always adorable when she was tired.

Once inside the bathroom, you turned on the faucet, letting the water run until it was the perfect temperature. You added a generous amount of your favourite bubble bath (it smelled of strawberries) watching as the cloudy-like suds began to bubble up. Addison had been sitting in your bedroom as you got everything ready. As you put a fluffy, dark grey towel onto the heated rack, you heard the sound of small footsteps behind you. Looking in the mirror, you could see Addison hovering at the doorframe, a pair of your plaid pyjamas' in her hands.

You chuckled quietly and turned around to meet her eyes, “You stealing from me now, is that what this is?” You smiled and expected her to give a small chuckle in return but what you didn’t expect was for her face to crumble up, her bottom lip quivering as tears began to spill from her eyes. Small tears turned to sobs within moments and your eyes were wide with guilt as she broke.

“Baby- no- I'm so sorry-” Your apology began spilling from your lips as you rushed to comfort her, pulling her into a hug as she sobbed into your hold, “I didn’t mean to upset you love, I’m so sorry.” You rambled as you tried to console her, unsure if it was actually you that pushed her over the edge of the events from the day finally breaking her down.

“I’m sorry,” Addison choked out between sobs, her fingers clutching your shirt as if you might disappear if she let go. “I didn’t mean to... I didn’t... I just—”

“Shh, it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.” You rocked her gently, holding her tighter. “You’ve been through a lot today. You don’t have to hold it together all the time, Addie.”

She continued to cry, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to get the words out. “I... I tried so hard... hours... we were so close... but—” She didn’t need to finish the sentence. You knew what she meant.

The two of you held each other on the floor of your bathroom for almost half an hour, no words were spoken apart from the occasional shushing along with occasional hiccups and Addison tried to catch her breath. Once she’d seemed to be a little more stable you spoke up.

“Addie, listen to me,” You spoke gently, pulling back just enough to tilt her chin up so she was looking at you. Her eyes were swollen, red from crying, and her bottom lip trembled. “You gave it everything. There’s nothing more you could’ve done. You’re human. Sometimes... sometimes we lose people, and it’s not fair, but that doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

She looked at you, her expression broken, and for a moment, you thought she might argue, but instead, she let out another shaky breath and buried her face in your chest again. You could feel her body gradually relaxing in your arms, the storm of emotions slowly subsiding, but the exhaustion was evident. She’d already been tired to begin with and this had taken away any reserves of energy she had.

"Let’s get you in the bath, okay?" You suggested gently after a few minutes, rubbing her back as her sobs turned to quiet sniffles.

She nodded, wiping her eyes as she cleared her throat, “You too?” Her voice was quiet but hopeful as she looked at you and then towards the water. It was clear what she wanted and you couldn’t hold back a small smile as you agreed.

“Of course my love, let me just grab a towel.”

When you returned, Addison let you get in first. The warm water felt amazing on every part of your body. You hadn’t really registered how tired you were yourself until then, too busy focusing on your wife and how she was. The bubbles made the room smell amazing and you breathed deeply as Addison slowly climbed in. Her body relaxed against yours, her head falling back to rest on your chest as your arms came to wrap around her. You couldn’t resist planting a small kiss to her red hair as she thanked you for getting everything ready for her.

After washing her hair and body, the minutes flowed by, you felt her relaxing more and more. Her previously tense shoulders dropped as she allowed the water to surround her, the burdens of the day slowly melting away as she let her eyes occasionally flutter closed. It wasn’t until she closed them and didn’t open them for several minutes that you decided it would be probably best to get out. The water had started to cool anyway and was better to get out now rather than risk her becoming cold again.

“You think its time to get out now, hm?” You nudged her gently to stir her awake from whatever day-dream she’d been in, “We’ll get you into those pj’s and I’ll make us some dinner, yeah?”

“Dinner sounds good.”

After helping Addison out of the bath, you wrapped her in the soft, fluffy towel, making sure to dry her off gently. Her skin was warm now, a marked improvement from earlier, though you could still see the weariness in her eyes. She took the pyjamas from earlier and held them out to you, offering them back. You took them from her hands and smiled at her, silently handing them back to her with a gentle nudge. She slipped them on and looked completely and utterly adorable.

Once she was dressed, you handed her a brush, offering to untangle the wet knots in her hair. Addison nodded silently and turned, her back to you as she sat on the bed while you carefully worked through the red strands. The rhythmic strokes of the brush seemed to calm her. You took your time, letting her find peace in the simple, repetitive motion.

“What are you in the mood to eat baby?” Setting the brush aside, you leaned down to kiss the top of her forehead.

She hummed quietly, thinking for a moment, “Pasta?” The redhead asked hopefully after a moment, “The one you make with that really good sauce.”

You knew exactly which she meant. “Pasta it is then. Are you going to just relax in here for a bit or come back and sit in the living room?”

She sniffled, and cleared her throat as she followed you into the kitchen, instead of heading to the living room like you’d presumed she would, instead she followed you into the kitchen. She shuffled herself onto one of the small stools tucked into the island and watched you curiously as you began to take out ingredients for your pasta sauce.

“Live cooking show?” You questioned with a smile, filling a pan of water and setting it to boil. You’d cooked the recipe hundreds of times. First you salted the pasta water and added a generous helping of fusilli. It was the best pasta for the recipe, not to mention your favourite.

Addison continued to watch as you cooked, shuffling occasionally as she trying to get a better view of what you were doing. Addie wasn’t a bad cook herself, though she tended to lean more towards making sweet treats and cakes rather than hearty meals. Still, it was a passion you both shared and it wasn’t unusual to see the two of you cooking together. It was something which brought you closer and you cherished the time together.

It was why you’d been able to slowly notice Addie becoming less and less engaged as time grew on. Her eyes were occasionally dropping closed and her posture seemed to slump. “Nearly done love.” You commented as she crossed her arms and fought back a shiver, “You getting cold again?” You sighed softly as you turned the simmering sauce down to a low heat.

She shrugged, “A little.”

You hummed and set the spoon you’d being using to periodically stir before you chuckled, "If I come back to my kitchen burning down, you’re taking the blame.” Before quickly heading to the bedroom, grabbing your fluffy blue robe which had been hanging on the door and jogged back to her.

“Here, darling,” You smiled, handing it out to her which she gratefully pulled it around her shoulders, sinking into the warm fabric. It was a good robe, heavy and comforting and she continued to wear it as you finished plating up your pasta.

It was delicious and hit the spot Addison twirled a forkful of fusilli, taking small bites in silence. She still looked worn, her eyes tired, but she stilled managed to eat the majority of it before she smiled gratefully and pushed her plate forward.

“Thank you love.” She murmured as you took her plate and put it in the sink. Addison was a firm believer in “I cook, you clean” but you weren’t having any of it, insisting it was completely fine and you would take care of all the mess. You’d already done the majority of it, making an effort to clean up as you went along, all there was left was the dishes.

There was no time wasted as you quickly cleaned up. Wiping down the surfaces and putting away the freshly washed dishes. Addison remained seated; her eyes heavy with exhaustion but following your every motion with a quiet appreciation. Every now and then, she sipped from her glass of water, her body curled up inside your fluffy robe.

When you finally finished, you turned to her with a warm smile, walking over to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "All done, love. Now, I think it’s time we head to bed."

She didn’t object and the pair of you headed back to the bedroom, crawling under the soft sheets and getting snuggled without each other's arms. Her body pressed against yours. It didn’t take long for her breathing to even out as she got comfortable within your hold, her red hair was still a little damp but you didn’t have the heart to wake her up just for the sake of drying it properly.

Eventually you couldn’t avoid the pull of sleep for much longer, you let your mind wander off as you drifted into a soft, much welcomed sleep.

*^*^*

If only the two of you could’ve stayed asleep forever, curled up in a peaceful trance. Unfortunately your morning alarm had other ideas and blared off into the silent room, shaking the pair of you out of your slumber.

You groaned quietly as you rolled over, whacking you hand at the loud, beeping phone on your nightstand in an attempt to quell its yelling. It didn’t work, instead you just ended up slapping your hand on the wooden table. You groaned again. Sitting up properly this time, you turned off the alarm and swung your legs over the side of the bed.

Padding into the bathroom, you splashed some water on your face, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you thought back to the night before. Noticing the unusual silence from your wife, you leaned back to look into the room, shaking your head fondly when she saw she was still curled up beneath the sheets. Her red hair poking out from within.

There was no harm in letting her sleep in a little longer. You always liked to set your alarms 15 minutes earlier than necessary to give yourself some extra leeway in the mornings. However, even after you’d brushed your teeth, tied back your hair and done some light makeup, there was still no sign of Addison getting herself up.

You sighed softly and finished up in the bathroom before coming back and kneeling at the side of the bed. She had her head buried in a pillow. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the sight for a moment. With a gentle touch, you reached to stray red curls from her forehead before gently shaking her shoulder. "Addie, time to wake up," You murmured quietly as she stirred.

She let out a quiet groan, burying her face deeper into the pillow. "Five more minutes..." she mumbled, you were expecting her usual slightly thicker morning voice, maybe even her grumpy voice. However instead what you heard was congested and thick. A sick Addie voice.

"Addie," You repeated, your brows furrowing a little as you heard her voice, "Oh , you don’t sound great, baby. You okay?”

She sniffled and nodded, “I’m fine.”

“You dont sound-”

“I said I’m fine Y/N.”

Her stubbornness was nothing new, especially when it came to work. Addison had always been driven—almost to a fault. It was one of the things you loved about her, but right now, it was frustrating. She shifted under the covers, sitting up slowly, wincing as she did. You could see the exhaustion weighing on her, dark circles under her eyes. Honestly you shouldn’t had been so surprised she woke up like this. She’d been thoroughly soaked yesterday, completely sending her body temperature out of whack. She’d never reacted well to changes like that and her defences were down, of course she’d been an easy victim for the first bug to come her way.

She was moving slower than usual, clearly feeling the effects of whatever was working its way through her body. You didn't even need to press a hand to her forehead to know she was running a slight fever; the pale tint to her cheeks, the slight sheen of sweat on her skin, and the way she kept sniffling were all clear signs.

“Addie, love, you can just get back in bed sweetheart.” You murmured, following behind as she headed into the bathroom, “I’ll tell work that you’re out of commission for today. They’ll understand.”

She gave you a pointed look and closed the bathroom door. Well. Clearly getting back into bed was out of the question. There wasn’t much you could do right now apart from getting yourself ready, you’d try again once she was finished in the bathroom.

Getting dressed; you had been pulling on your shirt when you heard her sneeze three times in moderately quick succession. You couldn’t help but shake your head sympathetically. Usually, Addie would change into her scrubs at work like you did so you set out a relatively cosy outfit for her to wear, setting the folded clothes on the end of the bed.

You were just gathering up your things when Addison emerged from the bathroom looking just as pale as before, with a slight flush to her cheeks that matched the pallor of her hair. She’d wrapped her hair into a messy bun, though some strands had already fallen loose, and her eyes were puffy from congestion.

She eyed the clothes you’d set out for her, biting the bottom her lip before picking them up and beginning to change. Addison could feel your eyes watching her as she changed, not in the flirty way she’d prefer but in the worried, concerned way she’d rather ignore.

The silent tension got the better of her however and the redhead shot you a look, part stubbornness, part exhaustion. “I’ll be fine, Y/N,” She mumbled through her hoarse voice. She sniffled damply, rubbing at her nose as she grabbed her work bag. “I can’t just stay home. I’ve got back-to-back surgeries and I’m meant to be on call tonight.”

“Someone can always cover you.” You murmured in return but you knew it would hardly convince her. There was no point trying to change her mind, it would only end with her getting frustrated and that was the last thing you wanted.

She’d turned away your offer of breakfast but you’d manage to talk her into at least taking a smoothie with her. By the time you’d poured it into her cup it was time to set off so pushing aside your reluctance, you offered to drive her there. The idea of letting a very likely feverish Addie behind the wheel of a 2-tonne vehicle wasn’t overly appealing.

The storm hadn’t relented much overnight, the sky was dark and overcast, rain drizzling down as you drove to work. You occasionally stole quick glances at your wife in the passenger seat, she was slumped in her seat a little and staring out the window. You were 99% sure she was leaning her forehead against it. The sound of Addison shuffling in her seat caught your attention, your eyes cast over in time to watch as she rubbed at her nose, her expression shifting whatever itch she was trying to stave off failed and moments later she was stifling a sneeze against the back of her hand.

“Bless you, Bless you,” You repeated when she repeated the action a few seconds later, only this time she didn’t stifle and let out a small satisfied sound afterwards, “There’s tissues in my bag if you need them.”

But she simply shook her head and sniffled quietly before letting her head return to its prior position against the cool glass, “I’m fine, thank you.”

You gave her a sideways glance, but didn't push the issue. When you finally pulled up to the hospital, Addison shifted, unbuckling her seatbelt slowly. You could see the way she winced as she moved, a grimace crossing her face as she grabbed her bag. You wanted to tell her one more time to reconsider—maybe just take the morning off, at least—but before you could speak, she leaned over and kissed your cheek, her lips warm against your skin.

“I’ll see you later love,” She whispered, her voice already sounding strained, you couldn’t imagine what a day of talking would do to it.

You nodded, biting back your protests. “Please take it easy, Addie. And if you need me, call, okay?”

She shut the car door and headed inside – luckily she’d brought a coat this time. When the door closed, you took a moment to gather yourself and let out a deep sigh. Of course you loved Addison, she was just too stubborn for her own good sometimes. She knew it herself and while she made improvements from the past, it was still something she had to work on.

Grabbing your bag, you headed inside, jogging beneath the room and relishing in the warmth of the hospital as you stepped through the entrance. Changing into your scrubs only took a few minutes and you were finally ready to start your day. It wasn’t exactly easy to focus on your work when you knew for a fact your wife was somewhere in that same hospital feeling miserable and ill but you had to push the thought to the back of your mind as you began doing rounds.

Every so often you’d try and grab one of the interns she usually had following her round but they seemed to be avoiding you today, always running from one place to the next, looking more stressed out than usual.

The day hadn’t been too eventful. Originally you weren’t meant to have surgery today but after someone came in with emergency appendicitis, you found yourself in the OR for a few hours - having to correct a clumsy interns mistake. By the time you’d finished, it was already past your shared lunch hour which meant you weren’t able to meet your wife as you usually did, an act (which even though you knew you shouldn’t) made you feel a little guilty.

You’d had no word from the redhead since she started and it had worried you a little. The first place you checked was her office but you only saw her bag sitting on the desk with no sign she’d been here much today. There was no sign on her in the OR for the afternoon so when Karev had passed you in the corridor, you pulled him aside, “Have you seen Addison lately? I checked the board and she’s not in surgery.”

He shifted a little uncomfortably and crossed his arms, causing you to change your stance and raise an eyebrow, “Alex, I already know she’s ill. I just want to check on her.” Your voice was soft, revealing a little vulnerability. Luckily this seemed to have worked as he sighed and pointed down the corridor.

“Last time I saw she was coughing and spluttering over a water fountain.” He shook his head disapprovingly, “I’m presuming you couldn’t convince her to stay home?”

You matched his gesture, “You know what she’s like.” He agreed and you thanked him for the information before heading in the general direction he pointed you in, of course she was not still by the fountain. You’d just been about to page her when your ears pricked up as you heard the sound of a rough muffled cough. Turning around you made a confused face as you saw there was no-one else in the corridor. Humming, you looked towards the linen closet a few feet away.

Supposing there was nothing to lose, you walked over and pushed the door open, light flooding into the dark room. You didn’t see anything at first but squinting, you could make out the vague shape of someone of the back of the closet. Switching on the small light, your heart dropped to your knees as you saw those recognisable red curls. Addison was slumped on the floor, her fever-flushed face resting against the rack of sheets.

“Oh sweetheart,” You murmured in the smallest voice as you closed the door, locking it before kneeling at her side. Raising a hand to her forehead, you brushed away damp strands of hair. Beads of sweat were lining her brow and you sighed as you recognised the undeniable heat of a high fever radiating from her skin.

It was hard to believe she had been trying to power through her shift like this. Brushing her hair back again, you gently squeezed her shoulder. "Addie, hey sweetie," You murmured softly, trying not to startle her, “Wake up for me beautiful girl.”

She stirred sluggishly, blinking up at you with glassy eyes. "Mhh?” She mumbled something you couldn’t quite work out and sniffled thickly, hardly having time to wake up before she ducked into her arm with a damp sneeze. It sounded harsh and obviously hurt from the way she winced afterwards.

After murmuring a bless you and handing her a tissue from the packet you’d slipped into your pocket, you asked, “What are you doing napping in a linen closet baby?” You knew that she could have easily slipped into an on-call room and slept there so it wasn’t hard to work out that her linen-closet nap wasn’t intentional.

Addison accepted the tissue and rubbed it beneath her red tinged nose, sniffling as she tried to sit up a little, her head still spinning as she blinked against the overhead light. “I just... got dizzy. I needed to sit down for a moment.” It was clear she was out of it, her answer sounding more like a question as she spoke and a few moments later, you were rubbing her back in worriedly as she racked forward with a horrible, harsh cough.

“You sound terrible baby.”

She shook her head weakly, clearly trying to muster some strength but failing miserably. "It’s not that bad. She tried to insist. her voice cracking before she broke into another round of painful-sounding coughs. You winced just hearing it.

“That’s new,” You murmured, concern and worry seeping into your words, “How long have you been coughing like that sweetheart?”

She seemed to think for a moment and sniffled thickly, coughing again before mumbling “Just a few hours.” Your wife cleared her throat with an agitated sound and let her head fall back against the rack making you bite your lip with worry.

Without another word, you quickly stood up and grabbed the small digital thermometer from your coat pocket. It wasn’t something you normally carried, but with flu season hitting hard, it had become a necessity around the hospital. Kneeling back beside her, you pressed it against her temple.

Addison closed her eyes, too exhausted to protest. After a few moments, the thermometer beeped, and your stomach dropped as you read the number.

“Poor girl, you’re nowhere near well enough to be here. Come on, we’re going home.” Your tone held no room for arguments and well, Addie didn’t really have the energy to be stubborn anymore. She felt too terrible and all she really wanted to do now was to go home and crawl back into bed where she should’ve stayed to begin with.

Finally, Addison nodded and you wrapped your arm around her waist as you helped her up off the floor. She stumbled and swayed a little so you kept your hold tight as you got her out of the closet, “You still dizzy?” She nodded and walked slowly, the both of you taking your time as you headed down the corridor. Stopping off at her office, you grabbed her bags and coat, wrapping it around her before quickly jogging to your office to grab your things. Changing could wait. All that was important now was getting her home

You pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to the chief explaining the situation, knowing he’d be sympathic. You slipped your phone back into your pocket, your focus fully returning to Addison. Her breathing was shallow, and every step seemed like an effort, but she leaned into you, grateful for your support. Her body trembled slightly, whether from the fever or exhaustion, you couldn’t be sure. What mattered most now was getting her home, out of the fluorescent hospital lights and away from the sterile walls that she'd been pushing herself to work within for far too long.

Before long, you were helping Addison back into your car, putting your bags on the backseat before closing the passenger seat down. She was coughing when you slipped into the passenger seat and you instantly reached across to rub her back. She cleared her throat and looked over at you.

“Thanks for taking care of me.” Her voice sounded so hoarse but you knew exactly what she was saying regardless, “I know I should’ve come home sooner. I’m sorry.”

You smiled, shushing her softly, “You don’t need to apologise, we’re going home now that’s all that matters. We’ll have you feeling better soon, okay?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too sweetheart.”

As the pair of you drove home, you could see Addison begin to drop off as her head periodically bobbed forwards, her eyes beginning to close on their own accord.

It wasn’t long before she had fully given into her exhaustion. You couldn’t help but feel relieved now that Addison was finally safely nestled in your passenger seat, her exhausted body leaning fully against the door as she slept against the window, her mouth open a little as small, stuffy snores rose from her. She’d definitely be out of work for the next few days, likely the week so you made a mental note to call at the pharmacy on your way home. It wouldn’t be long before you got her home, ready to tuck her up into bed and dote on her every need.

Yes, you’d taken care of her last night and you were more than happy to do it all again.

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